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the-art-of-ancunin · 3 months

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I'll Be Good [One-Shot]

Summary: As the newest addition to the Vampire Ascendent's twisted little family, you've already proven yourself to be the most vexatious, obstinate, and thankless child he's had the pleasure of breaking. Though he hasn't succeeded quite yet, Astarion is determined to make you bend to his will, to mold you into something useful...though he realizes that perhaps his original intentions may have been a bit off the mark when you manage to pierce through his carefully built walls and awaken something in him that he assumed had perished long ago.

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Female Reader

Content Warning(s): SMUT, dirty talk, Daddy kink, Creampie, P-in-V, unprotected sex, some overstimulation, etc.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Also, again... I did not proofread this, no beta-reader, so it might be shit. Let's find out together.

Word Count: 4.9K

The moon hung like a pale specter against the blackened sky, casting a cold, silvery glow over the Crimson Palace as you approached its looming gates. The air was thick with the scent of decay and spices, mingling with the bitter tang of your own despair. Your steps were soundless against the well-worn cobblestones, betraying no hint of your return. Your mind churned with revulsion; you had ventured into Baldur's Gate under the gloom of night, not exactly as a predator but as bait, tasked to ensnare an innocent for your Master’s insatiable appetite.

"Six months," you whispered to yourself, the words a ghostly mist in the chill air. "Six months of this cursed existence." At first, Master Astarion had been lenient, allowing you time to adapt to the thirst that now clawed at your insides, to the newfound strength that coiled in your muscles like a dormant serpent. But his patience had waned and his expectations had risen like the tide.

"Useful" – the word twisted in your gut, a cruel mockery of servitude. You could scrub the castle from top to bottom until your hands bled anew, yet it would never be enough. Fetching trinkets, scrubbing stone, and worse…much worse. This was to be your life, and it all boiled down to control - to Astarion's iron grip on the reins of power, forcing you and everyone else to dance to his whims. You were no stranger to playing the pawn, your life prior stood as testament to the manipulation suffered by those who claimed authority over you. But at least back then, you figured, death would have been the end of it.

"There you are," a voice slithered from the shadows. You immediately stiffened, your undead heart a frozen shard in your chest. Astarion sat, reclined in a beautifully crafted chair situated near the front door - the dim light glinting off his gilded chalice, the crimson liquid within a stark reminder of your grim existence.

"Master," you acknowledged, the title a leaden weight on your tongue.

"Out and about, playing the part of the dutiful daughter?" His smirk cut through the darkness, a blade honed by centuries of cunning. "Yet, you return to me empty-handed. Again."

Your resolve flickered as you met his gaze, those vermillion eyes a tempest of enigmatic desires. "The night was...unkind to me, I admit. My apologies," you lied smoothly, your voice a practiced melody of regret.

"Unkind," he echoed mockingly. "For as pretty as you are, my sweet, it's quite astonishing how you've proven to be such a lousy whore. We all must earn our keep in this family, Y/N. You know this." His tone held the chill of an unspoken threat.

"Of course, Master," you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil that raged within you. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms, a small act of defiance against his suffocating rule.

"Words are but wind, my dear," He continued, rising gracefully to stand before you. "Actions are what bind us – or condemn us."

You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, as tangible as the stone walls that encased them. Every instinct screamed to flee, to rail against the chains that bound you to his side, but survival was a lesson hard-learned. Composure was your shield, obedience your sword.

"I'd be more than happy to clean this palace top to bottom every day until the sky falls down," you replied, each word measured and deliberate. "I've told you this a hundred times or more. I'll gladly earn my keep, but I am not going to whore myself just to keep your snack cupboard stocked. I'm not that type of girl and not even you can take that from me. I won't let you."

You let out a strangled yelp as your Master’s iron grip encircled your throat, the cold touch of his fingers a stark contrast to the fire that had been kindling between you moments before. Your feet dangled helplessly above the marble floor, your back collided harshly against the unforgiving stone wall behind you. His eyes, dark as you had ever seen them, burned into yours with an intensity that could sear flesh.

"Displeased, are we?" he sneered, the venom in his voice dripping like acid. "The world outside these walls is a cruel one, darling. You know that...but if you'd rather go waltzing back into your father's open arms...well, that can be arranged. That drunkard who treated you like filth? My...I'm sure he'd be quite surprised to see you."

Your blood pounded in your ears, each thrum a drumroll of panic and resignation. You could feel the oppressive weight of Astarion's power crushing your spirit, but the thought of returning to your father's brutality was a fate worse than any torment your master could devise. In a choked whisper borne of fear and desperation, you managed to utter, "No, no, no - Please..."

"Good," He growled. "So we have an understanding, then?"

Your nod was almost imperceptible, your gaze not leaving his. The silence stretched taut between you until you added softly, with a trace of disdain you couldn't suppress, "Yes, Daddy ."

His vermillion eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within their depths. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Shit.

"Nothing, Master. I just said yes." Your words were barely audible, a mere breath carried on the stagnant air of the corridor.

"No. Say it again. As you did before," he commanded, something primal awakening inside him.

You hesitated. His grip tightened.

"Yes, Daddy." The words slipped from your lips, strained and hesitant. You couldn't decipher the look that painted his beautiful yet terrifying face—a mosaic of power, anger, and something else you dared not name.

He released his hold, allowing you to slide down the wall, your legs quivering as they struggled to support your weight. He didn't step away, though; instead, he caged you within the prison of his arms, his presence enveloping you. His hand, no longer a vise on your neck, traced a path up your trembling form, coming to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he whispered, his thumb brushing across your lower lip with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his earlier actions.

You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. There was no escaping the raw desire that swirled in those fathomless pools. The tension crackled between you, electric and overwhelming.

"Are you afraid, little one?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr that resonated in the hollows of your chest.

"Of you? Don't flatter yourself," Your reply came out steadier than you felt, the rebellious spark within you flickering to life despite the danger.

Your Master chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. "You should be. There are so very many things that I could do to you, sweet girl."

His breath brushed against your skin, igniting a shiver that danced along your spine.

"Perhaps it's time we renegotiate the terms of this little arrangement of ours, yes?" He purred, his grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a cruel mockery of affection. You swallowed hard, your throat dry with fear and anticipation.

"What do you mean?" you squeaked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I rule over this palace, this city, and over my... beloved children, with an iron first - it's true," he spoke lowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "But an unreasonable man, I am not. You want to refuse to work - to help provide for yourself and your family? For me, the man who gifted you with life eternal and stole you away from the misery of your previous existence? Who took you in from the slums to live in luxury inside of his palace? Well...so be it, darling. You don't want to whore yourself out on the streets? Fine . Allow me to show you what's to be expected of you now - think of this as a chance to prove your worth, hm? If you do well, you'll never have to set foot in the city ever again ."

You hesitated for a moment too long, the uncertainty in your eyes betraying you. Astarion's hand left your chin, replacing it with a firm grip around your upper arm, leading you down the shadowy corridor.

"Come now," he said, his tone gruff but laced with promise. "Let us test your... endurance , shall we?"

The darkness enveloped you as you journeyed deeper into the palace, each step echoing ominously in the dank corridors. With every passing moment, you felt more and more like you were spiraling into an abyss you could never escape.

Astarion stopped abruptly, pulling you to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. Your stomach dropped.

The Kennels.

The knob turned with a groan, and the door swung open to reveal a small, windowless room, the air inside heavy with the scent of ancient blood and endless anguish.

You took a deep breath, your undead heart twisting violently in your chest. This was where all the "expendable" assets of the household were kept, the lowest of the low - and you knew it.

"Inside," He commanded coldly.

"No!" You cried as you tried to pull away from his grip, "Please, no! I'll be good - Please! Please, I swear it!" But his hold on you only tightened, his fingertips digging into your arm.

"You're going to learn, my dear," He murmured, his voice low and hungry, "You're going to learn to submit to me, one way or another."

With a harsh shove, you stumbled forward into the room. Air rushed out of your lungs as you hit the cold, unyielding stone beneath you, the room's darkness swallowing you whole. Astarion stood over you, his pale silhouette framed by the doorway.

"Careful now, pet," He cooed, clicking his tongue in faux concern. His voice was a melody that belied the danger it carried. "Are you hurt?"

Your palms stung with abrasions as you shuffled backward, your gaze locked onto the elf who towered above you. You hastily examined yourself, feeling the sting of fresh scrapes on your knees, the evidence of your flesh's betrayal: small droplets of blood blossoming against your skin. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice steadier than you felt, propped up on trembling elbows, the fabric of your dress offering scant protection from the chill of the room.

"Fine," he repeated, a predator's grin carving into his features as his eyes flicked to the wounds on your knees before raking over your form. There was something unsettlingly tender about the way he observed you, as if you were both prey and masterpiece all at once.

Astarion's movements were fluid as he began to unbuckle his belt. The leather slid through the loops with an ominous whisper, and the air grew thick with tension. A strange glint, like the edge of a knife, flashed in his eyes, capturing your every fleeting emotion: surprise morphing into disgust, then a shameful twinge of longing that betrayed your better judgment.

"Do you have any idea how long it has been since I've sought... relief, Y/N?" His voice was silk and steel.

"Hours, I presume?" Your voice dripped with malice, belying the flutter of your pulse at the sight of the discarded belt.

A chuckle escaped him, low and resonant, as he methodically worked the buttons of his shirt. "Decades," he corrected, the word punctuated by the soft pop of fabric yielding to his deft fingers.

"Decades seem but moments for someone with eternity at their disposal," you shot back, wearing your defiance as a thin veil.

He shrugged off the shirt, revealing his chest sculpted from moonlight and marble, his smirk cutting through the darkness. "I have not known another's touch since I was but a spawn myself," he confessed, his voice a hush of raw truth that slithered through the shadows. "A time before your father's seed even thought to take root."

Your laughter rang hollow in the confined space. "And am I to believe you've satiated yourself with nothing but your own hand? A creature as comely as yourself?" You challenged, pushing down the unnerving awareness of his proximity.

"Indeed." His affirmation was simple, yet it held the weight of ages within it. "Desire was a luxury stripped from me, a complication I was content to live without." A pause, and then he stepped closer. "Until a vexatious little brat invaded my sanctuary and ignited a problem I presumed to have been long extinguished."

Your mind whirred, caught between disbelief and the dawning realization of what this meant. Your body reacted more honestly than you cared to admit, a thrum of anticipation weaving through your veins despite the gravity of the situation. You cursed yourself inwardly, your instincts betraying you again—how could you desire this monster, this bastard, this tyrant?

His movements were fluid, a whisper of fabric against skin as he untied the laces that held his trousers. His deliberate hands betrayed no urgency, yet each motion was laden with intent. With a deft flick of his wrist, the garment fell away, followed by the muted sound of his underclothes as they joined the heap of discarded attire.

Your gaze traced the lines of his body, a study in contrasts—his pallid skin almost luminous against the room's shadows. Your breath left you as you noted the prominent veins low on his torso, like pale blue rivulets frozen in time, leading to the cradle of his arousal. Your Master stood unabashed, his bare body exposed to your gaze. His manhood, thick and rigid between his legs, continued to swell as he wrapped his long fingers around it. With each stroke of his hand, his cock throbbed and pulsed in response, the movements hypnotic and undeniably human. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he continued to pleasure himself in front of you. A flush crept up your neck at the sight of him, his nakedness and self-pleasure stirring something inside you. With each pull of his hand, more of his flushed head was revealed, his foreskin sliding back and forth like a dance of concealment and revelation that quickened your pulse.

"Undress," he ordered, his voice a velvet demand that left no room for argument. Clearing his throat, he held your gaze, the crimson of his eyes smoldering with a lifetime's worth of longing, suddenly exhumed from the depths of his being.

"Or do you need assistance?" There was a taunt woven into his words, a challenge that roused both defiance and curiosity within you.

"I'm not a child," you spat back, even as your fingers moved to the fastenings of your dress, a traitorous mix of fear and desire propelling your actions. Each button popped open, an audible punctuation to the silence that stretched between you, thick with anticipation.

As fabric parted to unveil your skin, your thoughts tangled with the implications of what lay ahead. Were you yielding to his will or seizing control of the only thing that you could—the power of your own flesh?

"Good girl," Astarion praised, a sinister satisfaction lining his tone. Yet, for all his composure, there was a glint of something else—a flicker of awe or perhaps admiration—at your defiant display of vulnerability.

"I'm not that, either," you whispered teasingly, lying bare before him on the cold stone in all of your glory, your chin lifted in silent rebellion. But the look in his eye, the way it softened ever so slightly, told you that the game had shifted, that this moment was more than a simple exchange of power. It was a crossing of thresholds, a venture into a realm where the line between captor and captive blurred into nothingness, leaving you simply as man and woman, bound by the weight of your desire.

The air grew heavy with the scent of lust as Astarion stepped closer, his hand a rhythmic presence on his needy cock. The moonlight cast an otherworldly glow upon his pale skin, turning it almost translucent as he moved like a creature of myth. He lowered himself to his knees with an effortless grace, parting your legs with a deliberate touch.

" Ahh , but you will be," He rasped. "You're going to be a very, very good girl for Daddy from now on, aren't you?"

You simply stared for a moment as you processed his words, your body responding involuntarily to the command in his tone—your nipples peaked in anticipation. A mix of fear and arousal churned within you as you met his eyes, so deep and captivating it felt as if he could see into the very depths of your soul.

A small, involuntary cry escaped you as Astarion pressed his cockhead against the slick warmth between your thighs. He drew the length of his hardness along your folds slowly, each stroke a promise of what was to come. When the tip brushed your swollen nub, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, rendering you momentarily speechless.

"Y-yes," you managed to whisper, your eyes locked onto his with a mixture of trepidation and longing.

"Speak up, dear. I didn't quite catch that." His cheeky wit laced his words, though his expression remained intense, demanding.

Your lips parted, the words coming louder this time, filled with the knowledge of the power exchange between them. "Yes, daddy ."

"Again," he commanded, not because he hadn't heard you, but because he relished in the sound of your submission. Each repetition carved your acquiescence deeper into the fabric of this encounter between you.

"Yes, daddy," you repeated, your voice now steady with acceptance.

This was the game Astarion played best, a dance of dominance and surrender. After years of being subjected to Cazador Szarr's cruel whims, the tables had finally turned. Now he wielded control, and in it, he found a dark solace. No longer a pawn, he was now the master of his own desires, a vampire ascendant, savoring the sweet yield of another's will beneath him.

His hips slid forward with just enough force that it sent shivers coursing through your sensitive core. You arched beneath him, your back pressing against the cold stone, your nails scraping against it as you sought purchase. Your breaths came faster, your eyes widening in a mix of shock and pleasure.

"That's it, darling," He coaxed, his voice low and sultry. "Let me hear you say it. Tell Daddy what you want."

"I want you," you confessed, the words tumbling off of your lips like an admission of defeat. "Please fuck me."

Astarion chuckled deep in his throat, something wicked and wild in his eyes. With a burst of motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth, tasting your submission.

"Try again."

"I want you," you said again, your voice shaking with anticipation. "Please, Daddy - Please, fuck me."

Your Master’s eyes burned with desire as he pulled back from your lips, the scent of your arousal filling his senses. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock already slick with your juices.

"Is this what you want, sweet girl?" he asked, his voice quiet and seductive, gently teasing your entrance with his swollen head as he spoke, "I need you to be certain."

"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, your hips bucking involuntarily, urging him closer.

With a low growl, Astarion pressed into you, letting out a small groan as his tip popped through the tight threshold of your snug channel. You were so small, so tight, and his cock stretched you like nothing you had ever experienced. The simple feat of taking the fat crown of him into your body had knocked the air from your lungs as your body attempted to adjust to the invasion, the pleasure mingling with the pain of being split open. You thanked the Gods that you no longer required air to live, as the intensity of that first shallow stroke paled in comparison to the fullness of feeling him sink another inch of his rigid shaft into you.

"Y/N," he groaned, his hips pulling back just slightly before pushing forward once more, sinking more of his cock into your tight hole every time he slid in and out of you in a gentle, steady rhythm.

You blinked a few times, mouth agape as your inner walls continued to struggle, hesitant to yield to him in spite of the way your arousal drenched your thighs. You could feel every inch, every pulse, every vein that adorned his hardness as he moved within you, opening you up in ways you had never imagined.

“Gods, Astarion," you whispered, your voice thick with desire. In spite of yourself, you found yourself craving that twinge of pain that pierced through your core each time he pressed a little deeper. Gods, it hurt but then…it felt so fucking good, too. You wanted nothing more than to feel him buried deep inside of you, until his heavy balls were pressed tightly against your bottom.

The pale elf snarled, almost as if he could read your mind - his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hips slamming against your delicate form. A sordid scream tore from your throat as your body was forced to accept him fully, the agonizing pleasure coursing through your veins with each thrust.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans echoing off the cold stone walls, merging into a symphony of passion and release. Astarion's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust into you with fervor.

He leaned down as he whispered into your ear, his voice a velvety promise. "You're going to come for me, aren't you, little one?"

A small moan escaped you, Astarion’s piercing gaze and the depravity of this intimate act overwhelming both body and mind. You could feel the hot wetness of your sex coating your inner thighs and dripping onto the stone below as your climax began to build.

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice filled with raw need. "Fuck, Daddy - I'm so close...,"

Astarion's hips pounded against you with increasing urgency as he felt you nearing your peak. He knew that once you came, you would be his, submission and surrender so complete that it would bind you together forever.

"That's it, darling," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Come for me. Scream my name as you take me. Let your brothers and sisters know who Daddy's favorite is."

He pumped into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that permeated the air. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling as the intense pleasure built within you. You could feel your orgasm cresting, your walls tightening around his cock.

"Yes," you cried out, your voice strained. "Please, Daddy, I need you - I need to...ahhh!"

Hearing your plea sent a shockwave of desire through Astarion's body, causing him to press into the soft barrier of your cervix over and over again. His cock was like a branding iron, carving his name into the sacred landscape of your womb, of your very soul.

"Gods, yes," You mewled, your eyes locked onto his as the delicious dragging of his thick shaft moving inside of you became too much to bear. With a shuddering gasp, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming around him as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you.

Astarion watched your face as you came, the way your lips parted, your eyes rolling back into your head, your body bucking beneath him in unbridled passion. He knew this was only the beginning. As your orgasm subsided, he continued to rut into you, his cock twitching and throbbing with each stroke, eager to find its own release.

With each slap of his hips against yours, a whimper escaped your lips, your nails digging into the cold stone as your body was pushed to its limits. The pleasure was almost too much, but you found yourself craving more, wanting to give him everything you had.

As your orgasm faded into a gentle hum, you found yourself wanting to reciprocate. You wrapped your legs around your Master’s waist, pulling him closer to you, allowing him to fuck himself into you as deeply as he desired as your hips matched his rhythm. Your hands clutched him tightly, your nails softly digging into his skin as you found your own desire beginning to resurface.

"Daddy," you pleaded pathetically, "Fuck me. Make me yours. Please."

Astarion's eyes widened for but a moment at your words, his thrusts wavering only for a second before his flesh once again met yours with a punishing pace, the lewd sound of your squelching sex and skin meeting skin echoed off of the walls.

"That's it, sweet girl," he rasped, his voice breaking for just a moment as a moan escaped his lips. "Take it all. Let me feel you around me."

Your eyes locked onto his, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure and pain mingled within you, creating a symphony of sensations that threatened to consume you and suddenly you noticed that familiar tension building within you once again.

"Ahh, fuck...please," You cried, "Fuck, its too much..."

A choked scream tore from your chest before his name spilled from your lips, your body writhing beneath your master as his fangs pierced the skin of your neck.

Astarion drank deeply, the taste of your blood filling him with a sense of completeness he had never known. He pulled away, his lips leaving a faint kiss on the mark he had made on your neck.

"Ssshh - you're taking it so well, darling," he groaned, his hands gripped your hips roughly, pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so close, love. Come with me."

Your body trembled as your climax grew closer with each thrust of his cock into your wet heat. It felt like a wildfire, igniting every nerve and sensitive spot in your body.

"Please, Daddy," you whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies joining. " Ahhh -"

Astarion pistoned himself into you, his thrusts becoming erratic as once again you approached your peak. Your pussy clenched around him, urging him closer to his own release.

"That's it, pet," he purred, "Let it happen. Let go."

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body trembling as you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you. The agonizing fullness of your master spearing into your core all but consumed you entirely as you came undone once again - you cried his name from your lips, the sound reverberating throughout the palace.

With a deep, guttural growl, Astarion sank into you one final time, burying every last inch of himself inside of your pretty little cunt as his aching balls tightened. Every muscle in his body tensed and quivered as he emptied himself inside you, your bodies coming together in a carnal display of ecstasy and release. Your breathing was heavy and ragged, the sweat on your skin mingled with one another as you laid locked in each other's embrace. The intensity of the moment consumed you both, leaving you both trembling with raw passion and desire.

The quivering shadows on the walls seemed to dance with your lingering tremors, echoes of your pleasure slowly subsiding. Astarion withdrew himself from your tender warmth, leaving a palpable emptiness in his wake.

"Shh," He whispered against your flushed skin, his lips brushing your face and neck with a tenderness that belied his predatory nature, a stark contrast to the fervor you had just shared. With hands both firm and gentle, he turned you onto your stomach, the cool stone pressing against your cheek as you complied wordlessly.

Your hips were lifted by his confident grasp, baring you to him once more. The air caressed your exposed flesh, heightening your awareness of your own vulnerability and the wet that continued to coat and trickle down your thighs—a tribute to your union. Astarion's purr vibrated through the silence, a sound of dark satisfaction as he admired the sight before him.

"Look at you... such a good girl for me, Y/N." His voice was soft yet sinister, a paradox that sent shivers down your spine. As he stroked the swell of your ass with an almost reverent touch, you braced yourself. Expecting a strike that never came.

"Thank... thank you, Master," you managed, your words trembling as much as your body. Your eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, sought out his face. Even now, his attention was fixated on the proof of his possession, the essence of him that marked you as his own.

His fingers traced the intimate path where your bodies had been joined, gathering the evidence of his claim and deliberately pushing it back inside of you with a possessiveness that was both invasive and oddly comforting. You winced, the sensation overwhelming yet incomplete without him filling you entirely.

"Is it too much?" he teased, his tone laced with feigned concern and a pout that only served to mock. You could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, the playful cruelty that he so often enjoyed.

You shook your head, a silent plea for him to continue, to test the boundaries of your resilience. You would endure; you would be good.

You promised.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion smut #daddy k!nk

136 notes · View notes

sheeluvsme · 11 months

Text

Funny 141 + los vaqueros (and others) Headcannons!!

Ghost , soap , gaz , price , Valeria, Alejandro, Rudy , graves , alex , farah ,könig ( I think that’s all…)

no warnings!!!! Just funny shit I think they do LMAOO, contains some reader in here !! Also none of these are in order LOL I just started writing shit down , and not proof read ! BUT ENJOY <33

Soap. Dear lord we love soap but he is a MESSY EATER

You will be sitting 5 feet away from him and your still in the fucking splash zone 😭

He also eats in bed , gets food everywhere, then gets mad he can’t sleep because his bed is riddled with crumbs

Graves dead ass sleeps in a recliner like an old man. I’m so serious.

One time someone walked in on him sleeping leaned back in his office chair and they drew a dick on his face AND FLED.

He didn’t notice till he had a call with shepherd.

Valeria insults Alejandro about his forehead.

Soap dose too and Alejandro beats him

Rudy drinks orange juice with pulp.

Price unironicly says ‘ whoopsie daisy ‘

Alex grabs your waist when he’s scooting by you and is like “ exuse me just gonna scoot on right by you-“

Ghost one time was so tired he tried to drink through his mask. It was FUNNY ASF

you get to sit and watch Alex shameless flirt with farah , and farah is OBLIVIOUS.

König will strap in his groceries in the back seat and when he opens the door to take them out they all fall out and start rolling down the street so all you see is this tall as man chasing after his oranges .

Ugliest. Monopoly. Games. Ever.

Half way through the game if ends up with someone pulling out a gun and shooting the board game.

Price is like “ fucking hell ! That’s the fith one !”

Farah doesn’t join but is so confused why they continue to play every couple of months if it just involves them fucking destroying the game

Soap literally eats almost anything you dare him too

Used to chew on bottle caps RELIGIOUSLY

ghost tried dip once. He swallowed it.

Price and laswell are goats at candy crush

Price is also super good at math????

Price called gaz son and gaz cried in his room for the rest of the day and didn’t talk to him for a week

Alex won’t stop getting asked if he’s prices son even if they definitely know the answer.

Farah can easily beat up Alex , and sometimes dose

Soap is a chronic “ Eats the last peice of food but leaves the empty package in the refrigerator “ type of guy

Ghost beats him up for eating the last toaster strudel

Alejandro loves putting hot sauce in there ketchup , watches soap slowly die from spice , even worse gives him sprite to wash down the spice.

You want to know who shot the monopoly board? Valeria.

Alejandro and Valeria almost end up in a fist fight over uno. Rudy was scared for his LIFE

Ghost high asf because soap gave him gummies to “ relax” but no one notices because his eyes are always so damn red

Gaz unironicly watches Freinds , like over and over and over

Price says “ oui “ when he eats a croissant

Soap has a “ smell test “ for his clothes when he dosnt feel like doing laundry.

Konig likes to quietly play roblox on long rides

Sometimes he’ll play a scary game and suddenly he just like yells and throws his phone LMAOO

Soap forces price and ghost to play Minecraft

Ghost is just blowing everything up

Soap plays in creative mode bc he’s a whimp and says survival is too hard

Price thinks the loading screen is the game.

Alejandro and soap get so serious when playing Just-dance Alejandro will loose grip of his remote and it will SHMACK soap in the face so HARD

Whenever Alejandro falls over he lays on the ground because Rudy always helps him up but this time he’s with ghost , ghost laughs at him and doesn’t help at all

Alejandro will doxx anyone who is mean to Rudy

Gaz is just confused. All the time.

Gaz sends random cat videos or pictures in the group chat they have

They go to add ghost to the group chat and he pulls out his jankie ass flip phone and everyone stares at him in horror.

Ghost mostly uses his computer but he’s like a grandma with it

Alejandro is a chronic Facebook user.

Soap has TikTok addiction and won’t stop shoving his phone in ghosts face when he sees something remotely funny

One time when gaz was a kid he found a unwrapped tootsie roll and thought it was a butterfly cocoon and put it in a jar and waited MONTHS for it to hatch

Price randomly says swag.

Ghost cried as a kid because he thought cracking open the egg ment it could no longer be a chick and hatch , he had no concept of process he was devastated

Alejandro and everyone looking at graves , grave “ welp , I’m glad he lived up to his name” and everyone just starts LAUGHING

GAZ thinks farah is ABSOLUTELY BAD ASS WITH HER MOTOR CYCLE.

He asks to touch her motorcycle likes it’s a cat “ can I touch it…?”

Alejandro eats unfrosted pop tarts.

Soap has snorted pixie stick dust , and will do it again

Gaz has neices that really like hello kitty so now he has this small hello kitty patch he Carry’s around that they gave him😭

Soap coughs loudly when price smokes anywhere near him , just to be dramatic

Price is sick of his bs

Königs feet always hang off his bed and is genuinely terrified of something grabbing his feet , one time a stray cat taped his foot , he jumped 5 feet in the fucking air SCREAMING

Ghost says “ at least I’m not Scottish “ and soap just says “ well your queens dead” and then the start wrestling in the back of the truck while price is yelling at the threatening not to take them to Wendy’s anymore

PSLKSEJEJW THESE ARE SO FUNNY I WAS GIGGLING WHILE WRITING THIS i HOPE YOU ENJOY :)) I’ll probably do a part 2 if this gets enough likes !

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smok3r7 · 4 months

Text

Is Leaving Even An Option?

Joel x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Four: Relief

Series Masterlist & Main Masterlist - My Ao3

Summary: Your days have become one in the same, even with the terrifying reality of death right outside the walls of Jackson. You never thought you’d be in the situation you’ve been stuck in for seven years now, the daily abuse you endure has become an expectation. You take whatever your husband throws at you, literally and figuratively, because you’ve been trained to believe this is normal. But a new man, Joel, moves next door and happens to be friendly towards you, this causes your husband’s anger to worsen. Your mind starts a gruesome war with itself - can you leave him or do you stay until the inevitable happens?

Chapter Summary: The same night you meet Joel, Nate becomes aggressive and does something way out of the norm. This causes you to reach out for help to your new neighbor, Joel. How does asking for help change your life?

Word count: 4.5k

⚠️Warnings: fear of husband, running and hiding from him, mentions of rape (no description), mentions of beating, self-hatred

—

“Go away!” You scream as you sprint to the dark gray bedroom door and slam it behind you, locking it immediately. The jar of pickles you had is now shattered somewhere on the stairs from you dropping them when you heard Nate get up from his recliner to follow you.

“You bitch!” He slurs as he starts to pound the other side of the door with both hands. You back up to the bathroom connected to the room and slam the door shut, locking it too, then jump in the porcelain bathtub, lay on your side, and you start to cry, muffling it with the fabric of your sleeve. You can still hear him hitting the door and his now muffled voice, still yelling about something you can’t make out.

How did you end up here? How did you become so weak? Why don’t you stick up for yourself more?

The sound of the bedroom door breaking sends a terrifying chill through your cold body, and holy shit, you think to yourself, he’s gonna kill me. “C'mere you whore,” he hiccups now on the other side of the bathroom door and slowly knocks on it, then he drunkenly sings, “Ooh Mrs.Rossi, come out come out, wherever you are.”

Your mind is racing as he continues to slowly knock, taunting and playing with you, and you almost wish he would lay his hands on you instead of this mental torture he loved so goddamn much. You would rather take his hands over his words any day, because the wounds left on your skin can heal. His words, however, leave an imprint on your soul like a steaming hot brand on cattle - it’s there forever.

The knocking abruptly stops, you sit up with your knees in your chest as you wrap your arms around your bent legs, and you look towards the white door, seeing the shadow of his feet through the sliver between the floor and the door. “I said,” his tone changes to a serious one, “Come here, my dear Mrs.Rossi.” A beat goes by and you stay silent, even holding your breath, trying to make yourself disappear like a magician doing his rabbit in the hat trick.

A sense of desperation forms in your core and flows through your blood, you wish you could ask for help, but you’re inevitably fucked.

Still no noise has come from either of you, eyes zoned in for any kind of movement. You then watch how his shadow stumbles away from the door, and you finally let out that breath that’s been trapped in your lungs for what felt like hours. You don’t dare move out of the tub, because the smallest noise could bring him right back to torture you and, to be honest, you’re not sure if you’ll make it out of this beating.

Flipping your right wrist over to look at your watch - well, Rosa’s, one of her personal items you grabbed - and you put together that an hour has gone by with you in the bathroom, an hour since the last time you heard any sort of noise from Nate. He’s gotta be passed out by now, you think to yourself, trying to make yourself believe it, but you decide to wait another hour, just to be safe, because if he is sleeping, you can run over to Maria’s for the rest of the night and deal with Nate tomorrow when he’s sober.

While you wait and stare at the little black hands on your dainty silver watch to move to the nine and twelve, nine PM is all you need to anxiously wait for. You are in disbelief about how your life has come to this; you hiding in the bathtub in the bathroom you share with your husband, from your husband.

The overwhelming feeling of loneliness and self-hatred starts to slowly consume you from the inside out, because you used to be an expert about seeing through men and their evil twisted lies. However, for some irrational reason, you were and still kind of are, blind when it comes to Nate. Even though he hurts the hell out of you, in more ways than one, he knows exactly how to lasso you and pull you back into his warm arms.

It’s pretty infuriating and ironic how he is the reason for your pain and yet, he’s the one who helps to make you feel better, for the small time being. Shit, it’s honestly pathetic that you keep allowing it to happen, there’s absolutely no reason why you should still be married to him; you don’t have kids, you’re not dependent on him anymore, and lastly, Maria and Tommy told you that they would let you stay with them until there was a home available.

Tommy was actually the one who pulled you aside not too long after Maria put the pieces together last year and he had gotten extremely emotional when he said, “I put Nate on patrol with Daniel. I’m so sorry for all that you’ve been dealing with by yourself, I am disgusted with myself for not having noticed. I want you to know my loyalty stays with you, a million times over. Please don’t hesitate to come to me or Maria for help, okay, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t believe that Tommy, who had been Nate’s right hand man since the beginning of Jackson, had written Nate off entirely and favored you in this matter. It gave you some sense of hope for something good to happen, but in the end, you’re still here a year later, in the same situation, but now you hold your own a little better.

The sudden urge to pee hits you and brings you back down to earth. Fuck, you glance away from the silver faucet you were staring at, and as you flip your wrist again, your eyes widen as you notice the hand's location, ten fifty-three PM stares back at you like a hawk eyeing its prey.

Please please, you repeat in your head as you carefully put your hands on either side of the edge of the tub and push yourself on your feet, and both your knees pop, echoing through the silent, tiled bathroom. You curse to yourself as you step onto the white bath rug, praying that he doesn't hear you. All you have to do is unlock the door, open it quietly, and get downstairs then sprint out the front door. Should be easy, right?

You tiptoe to the door and unlock it, wrapping your shaky hand around the cold knob, taking a deep breather for a moment to spark a bit of confidence in yourself to sneak past him, wherever he is. Your heart is beating rapidly, enough where you think it might leap out of your chest, your stomach doing flips, making you jittery.

With your hand still on the knob, you slowly turn it with your free hand on the door itself to keep it quiet. The pleading in your head is still there as you silently and slowly push the white door open. Before you fully open the only thing keeping you alive, the first thing your eyes notice is the gray door that leads to the hallway from your bedroom, and the bottom half of it has been kicked in.

Seeing this makes you swallow heavily - this has never happened before so you really don’t know what’s in store for you. You quietly push the door just a little bit more and as you step out onto the navy plush carpet, you turn your head to the left and you’re greeted with Nate eyes wide open, his tall statue-like figure sitting on the edge of the king size mattress you share.

You’re frozen in your tracks. Both your hands drop to your side, your breathing starts to become erratic, your chest heaving up and down, and sweat beads start to form on your skin. No fucking way, you panic, how is he still up?

“There she is.”

—

Hold on, hold on! You hear Ellie on the other side of the oak door. You’re back standing on the cream porch you had been on hours earlier, but instead of being here to show them the new home, you’re now there for any source of help.

The door swings open, “Who the he-“ Ellie starts but as soon as she sees you standing opposite to her, she stops. All you’re dressed in is a black tank top, plaid sleep shorts, and a pair of gray socks that are soaked from the snow when you walked over. You stay silent as you watch Ellie’s eyes gaze at your bruised and broken body, you don’t doubt that she knows what went down.

“Fuck, um- come on in, please, please,” she rapidly tells you and welcomes you inside the home that is almost identical to yours, without that distinct gloomy, unsettling aurora floating around. It’s actually an incredibly welcoming feeling that wraps around you as soon as you step foot inside.

“Here,” Ellie runs over to the closet across the room and grabs a smaller blanket out of it, “wrap this around you, go sit down, and I’ll go grab Joel.” Still not having said anything, you reach your arm out to take the blanket she has offered and you nod your head.

Your body is on autopilot as you drag your frozen wet feet across the hardwood floor to the open living room and plop your heavy feeling body on the tan colored couch, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and bringing your knees to your chest, curling into your comfort position.

Joel. Joel. Joel. He’s all you desperately crave at this moment, and even though you don’t know a thing about this man, you still desire him and his comforting atmosphere. You’re so out of it that you don’t even hear Ellie run upstairs or the noise of Joel’s heavy footsteps sprinting down the steps to quickly aid you.

Suddenly the shape of Joel’s body is in front of you, then he shrinks down to sit on the wooden table, his gaze now meeting yours, and you watch as his beautiful eyes are full of concern, darting all over your meek body, making you tighten your arms more.

“You’re staying here for a little bit, sugar,” Joel states, trying to keep his anger from taking over from seeing you like this. Hearing him say that with such ease and honest concern causes you to finally let go of all the tears and anger you’ve been holding onto for all these years.

“Than- Yo- I-” you sob between words, trying to say anything but you simply can’t make anything out. Shh, Joel hops off the table and sits down on the cushion next to yours, softly grabs your trembling body and pulls you to sit in his lap as he cradles you like a newborn baby.

You’re violently weeping into his chest as he slowly rocks and shushes you. The way he holds you in his safe arms makes you feel more loved than ever before.

You’re not sure how much time has gone by but you have stopped sobbing, though tears continue to roll down your cheek, your face still. “You don’t have to tell me now,” Joel’s voice makes your body vibrate as he speaks, “But I wanna know what happened.”

The way his voice sounds, you can tell he is aggravated but upset by seeing you hurt. You’ve been staring at his chest, the way his dark blue T-shirt clings to his body, you’ve memorized the pattern of his breaths and yours matched with his. But now that he’s asked and with such clarity, you figure that you have to tell him. It’s the least you could possibly do right now with him and Ellie being nothing but helpful.

Slowly, you lift your face to look at him and you notice that he’s already gazing down at you with the same whiskey eyes that make you swoon just by looking. The shame you’ve been experiencing flies away in a second just by seeing how much he truly cares. It’s not like Nate’s face when you initially met him, no, this is different.

“Okay,” your voice hoarse from the yelling and crying, you sit up still in his lap, “um, so-” You’re trying to find the right words to really showcase what happened to you tonight. “I got home and he was waiting for me, he’d drunk the rest of the bottle and started to chase me upstairs. I locked myself in the bathroom for, like, three hours, and you’d think he’d be passed the fuck out right?”

You’re starting to become loud and hysterical, your hands are now animated as you talk with them because you have so much to try to get out, but you can’t really communicate it all. Joel is just listening and watching how worked up you’re getting, his arms still latched around your body but it’s not like a possessive hold, more of a let me take care of you kind of grasp.

“Well, apparently I was wrong, because as I walk out the bathroom, I am immediately met with Nate just staring at me sitting on the bed. And I just freeze, like a fucking deer in headlights. Dumbass. If I woulda ran I wouldn’t be bruised to hell, no black eye, no hair ripped out.” You wait for a beat before you finish your story, “And I wouldn’t have been raped either.” The last part comes out in a defeated sigh, but you never shy away from his eye contact.

He’s stunned into silence, his eyes glossy, a tear breaking away from his eye and rolling onto his cheek, one that slides down and gets lost in his messy beard. You bring your hand to his lined face and wipe away the stain from the tear, and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the early morning before anyone else is awake in Jackson.

—

It’s been about six months since you ran over to the safety of Joel’s house, and for all intents and purposes, you’ve been living there since. The only times you go back to your shell of a home is when Nate is out on patrol, but you don’t even stay there, you only grab a couple necessities like clothes and toiletries. Nate really believes that you’re staying with Maria and Tommy - he has no clue that you’re only a couple of yards away from him and you’re gonna keep it that way for a little while longer.

Ellie now has come to help you at the stables alongside the three sisters, who gracefully accepted Ellie into the group, and you couldn’t be more at peace about it. Joel has been by your side whenever he can, but not in the sense of trying to keep an eye on you. It’s more for your safety and the fact that you told him that you feel safe and loved when he’s around.

You’ve finally been able to live peacefully. You haven’t had to deal with any Nate drama, no new physical or emotional pain, and you haven’t had to walk on eggshells anymore. Truly, you feel more secure than ever in the last two decades, and it’s all because of Joel.

“I think Tommy and Maria are coming over for dinner tonight,” Ellie tells you as she continues to brush her horse, Shimmer. You smile over to her, “what do you think they’re gonna make?” She takes a second to really think about her answer, she suddenly stops brushing and excitedly goes, “I think Tommy is making his famous chili. Joel had brought up to me that it was his absolute favorite meal, well, whenever Tommy cooked.”

“That sounds delicious,” you laugh as you finish the last of the hay so Jinny can grab it and put it with the others. “Oh my god you have no idea!” Andrea yells from outside the barn, you turn your body and give her a confused face. “Wait, so you’ve had it but I never have?” You question playfully putting your hand on your hip and popping it out.

The girls chuckle at your stance and they start to talk about how they had to beg Maria for him to make it, since the ingredients can be hard to come by a lot of the time. Somehow the three sisters got him to make it a couple years ago and they say he hasn’t made it since then, so they also believe that he’s making it tonight.

“Alright ladies, I’ll believe you. However, if you’re all wrong,” you take a second to think about what playful punishment to give them, a little smirk grows, “you all have to switch jobs for a week.”

The four girls all groan in unison, fine, but Ellie is quick to say, “that won’t be happening.” She winks at you and you chuckle as you shake your head. These girls have your whole heart.

—

“Let’s go, old lady! I’m starving,” Ellie drags out the last sentence as you lock up the barn for the night, the rest of the day went smoothly. “Girl, if you don’t wait a fuckin second-” you banter back while laughing. You turn around finally and you see Ellie making a snowball that she fires at you, and hits you right in the thigh.

You slowly lift your head with a sharp grin, “Oh, you’re so in for it now!” She has the biggest smile, from ear to ear, as you bend down to grab a clump of dense snow you hear her yell, “You gotta catch me first!”

You laugh, oh, just wait, because little does she know that you’re actually quick on your feet. It’s how you survived so long alone before Jackson, when you had no choice but to be quick, especially considering you never stayed in one place for too long.

After making a ball out of the cold white snow, you pick your head up and scan for Ellie. You spot her running down Main Street just past the Tipsy Bison, and you knew you could catch up to her in a second but you have another idea. There’s a shortcut to your neighborhood behind the grocery store next to the stables, so you decide to take that path and you’ll meet her just after Maria and Tommy’s house.

You take off towards the snow covered concrete path with the singular snowball in one hand and your set of keys in the other. The cold breeze hits your face with a stinging sensation, but right now you really don’t care, you’re actually having fun and there will be no consequences to you simply enjoying yourself. So you ignore the aching of your feet, the coldness of your face, and the stiffness of your knees all because you can finally do what you please.

You’re just about to Spruce St. and you see Ellie walking past the secret pathway and you smirk, perfect. You stop your moving feet and wind your arm back as you whip the ball of snow at her figure, she’s too busy looking behind her to even notice you’re only about fifteen feet away from her. The snowball hits her directly on her shoulder and she quickly turns her head in your direction, “How the fuck?”

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You wink as you walk up to her and put your arm around her shoulder, you both start to laugh as you make your way to the beautiful navy blue house for the night.

—

“Knock, knock!” You hear Maria come in, followed by Tommy and his greeting. You’re currently upstairs finishing up your hair, just something simple to keep it out of your face. “I’ll be right down!” You yell, putting in the small golden hoops that you still have from Rosa, and you smile as you look at yourself in the full length mirror on the backside of your bedroom door. Joel told you that there was a guest bedroom that you could stay in until everything worked itself out, and he didn’t care or mind how long that took.

You stare at your reflection with awe, the light blue jeans hug your curves perfectly, and the green flannel Joel gifted you hangs open so your black T-shirt fits your upper body comfortably with a little bit of cleavage. It’s nothing crazy, but you look like yourself again. The woman you were before Nate - shit, before the apocalypse even, even the weight you had lost because of him is now coming back, and damn, you look astonishing.

As you take one more full look at yourself, and it hits you that you’re not covered in bruises or blood, a small gloss covers your eyes but you quickly wave it away. No, not tonight, it’s a good night, you repeat. Because it truly is; you’re actually happy and not playing it up for visitors. This is real, your emotions are raw and real.

“Old lady, c’mon!” Ellie yells from the bottom of the steps, and you yell back to her as you take one last look at yourself. Hell yeah, you mumble with a nod to yourself, putting your fingers on the silver handle, shaking off whatever jitters you have, and pull the door open. The sound of people talking fills your ears as you enter the hallway, closing the door behind you, the stairs are lit by the lanterns hanging on the wall.

This feels like an actual home.

As you reach the hardwood floor at the bottom of the steps you're met by Joel’s figure, about five feet away from you, stopping your feet to gaze at him. He looks beautiful, his hair is wet from the shower but combed back, and you’re taken back when you notice his shirt - it’s the same green one that he gave you.

You raise your hand to point at his chest, making you now only inches away from touching him, your other hand now on your hip, “Miller, are you trying to copy my style?”

“Darlin’, I invented this style,” he chuckles at you with such admiration in his eyes, now stepping closer, letting your hand palm his chest. Yet again, it feels like you two are the only ones in the world, the only two souls left alone just dancing around each other like flames in a fire.

The sound of Tommy clearing his throat shakes the two of you out of the trance, your hand still on Joel’s chest as you turn your head towards the kitchen and you see Tommy with a smirk on his face as he says, “Dinner’s ready.”

“Be right there!” Both you and Joel chirp at the same time, causing both of you to flip your faces back to one another and you both just start to laugh, so much that the top of your head falls into his chest and his lips lay a gentle kiss on your head.

“Ladies first,” he mumbles into your hair as he moves his hand to guide you towards the kitchen. You smile, lift your head back up to meet his gaze, and all you see is pure love. You want so badly to kiss him and feel that passion that you desperately miss, but you don’t because you still have this weird loyalty to Nate, all because you’re still married.

Some part of you won’t allow the happiness you know you’d receive and deserve from being with Joel, because even though your husband is an absolute monster, marriage still has meaning to you. Marriage isn’t just something you cheat on - your mom instilled this in you after Roy because she never wanted you to end up like her.

“Okay,” you say with a cheesy smile. You feel drunk off of him, off the smell of his sweat mixed with body wash, and his looks have you feeling butterflies erupt from your belly again. Your feet start to mindlessly walk away from him towards the sound of people having fun towards the kitchen, and he’s planted in the same spot as he eyes you up and down as you walk past Tommy, giving him a smile.

As you pass Tommy, you’re met with Maria at the stove stirring what you can only imagine is, indeed, Tommy’s famous chili. Ellie mutters it at the same time you think it, and you turn your head to see her sitting at the dining room table with a shit eating grin on her face.

“I told youuuu,” she sings to you as you walk over to sit next to her at the wooden table. You give a glance to her and she sticks her tongue out at you, which you reflect back to her with a laugh. Ellie starts to laugh with you as Maria brings the big pot to the table and sets it on top of a heat resistant mat, the strong smell of delicious chili fills your nose as Maria sets across from you.

By now, Tommy and Joel have walked in the dining room and sat down in the wooden chairs, Joel at the head of the table next to you, and Tommy sitting next to Maria across from Ellie. You couldn’t feel more at home than you do right now, this just feels like it’s meant to be, like all what you have been through is worth it since you’re here now.

“Dig in, sugar,” Joel softly says to you with a gentle smile, the warm feeling starting to grow in your belly again just from his words, and you grin as you grab the ladle and fill your bowl. “Thank you, Tommy,” you state as you take a spoonful of chili in your mouth. This has got to be the best meal you’ve had in god knows how many years.

He says a quick thank you as everyone else gets a bowl of the yummy chili, and you can’t help but feel insanely happy and relaxed at this new lifestyle you have. It truly is the most beautiful experience you’ve had in awhile, and you can’t believe that you have been actually happy.

The thought of Nate hasn’t popped in your head in weeks, and you couldn’t be anymore grateful about that.

Tags: @evyiione @southernbe @pedrosfanny @oscarissac2099

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #Is Leaving Even An Option #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #read warnings before reading #dark story

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

Note

sweet sunday request!

i've been thinking about reader giving Ari a massage. He could be complaining about his stiff shoulders and back (bc he's beefy🤤 or his muscles are sore after a workout) and reader insists to help him feel better.

( I guess reader doesn't have much strength and didn't really relieve the tension on Ari's shoulders, but Ari likes her hand on his back, so it's a win-win 🤭)

and congrats on 600 followers!😘😘😘

Do you know? I never realized until yesterday that I hadn't ever written Ari. (Why???? I've read soooooo much of him.) But I love this. He is a big, burly, beast of a man, and he deserves attention. I originally thought this would wife!reader, but upon further thought, I'm going with best friend!reader and mutual pining...kinda.

Tension (see previous)

Warnings for oh my Gawd this got steamy and I didn't even mean for it to, light/vague smut, some dirty talk that made me walk away from my computer to cool down, hot!Ari you've been warned.

Summary: Your best friend helps you around your new house.

The step stool is wobbling while you carefully unscrew a blown lightbulb. Your body seizes in fear momentarily, and you can't help but grumble, "I don't know how you talked me into this."

"What was that?" Ari calls from the kitchen.

"Nothing, dear," you joke back.

Buy this one, he said. It's a fixer-upper, he said. I'll help.

It's a piece of shit is what it is. The house needs more than just TLC; it needs to be saged and bleached, needs all this horrifying wallpaper stripped off, and needs roof repairs badly. Luckily, it doesn't rain much here, so Ari can wait for that part. The goal today (more like this week) is to make the master bedroom, one bathroom, and the kitchen livable.

Otherwise, your best friend is about to have a surprise roommate because this is his fault.

"Shit," Ari hisses. You can hear a soft bang.

"What happened?" Before you're off the stool, he's poking his head around the dividing wall.

He holds his hand tight with his other. "Nothing," he groans, "just got myself on a nail from the cabinet. Where's the kit?"

"Let me see--"

"No, no, I'm fine."

He flashes a pretty, white smile before his lips curl back down.

"Medicine cabinet." You point across the living room. "Second shelf."

Ari lumbers off to clean up while you inspect his handiwork for the first time.

Say what you will about men's eye for detail, but damn, Ari is babying every surface of the kitchen, smoothing every corner, polishing every inch, leveling every shelf. If the man shows even half this devotion to his own house one day, it'll be the prettiest place on Earth. Also, the man is good with his hands. Hopefully, he's not hurt too badly.

All seems well when he returns though, and you inspect his bandaging to see if he's okay to keep using the hand.

"You wanna take a break?"

Ari looks at you while his hand is palm-up in yours, smirking.

"Maybe just for some of that lemonade in the fridge."

Good because that's 'bout the only thing in the fridge at this point. You tell him to go sit while you rinse out two dusty glasses and pour each of you a serving.

He's reclining on the sheet-covered couch, which is again one of the only pieces of furniture here already, and you hand him his drink.

"Thank you kindly." He gently tips the glass in a toast to you and takes a huge gulp, puckering at how tart it is. That's how he likes it, you know--little less sugar, little more lemon.

He's just starting to sweat through his cut-off shirt, pushing his long hair out of his face as he runs his fingers through it, wincing as the bandaged hand pains him.

You sip your lemonade and lounge on the other end of the sofa. "The fixer-upper fights back, huh?"

"Oh, I'll win the war. Don't you worry," he booms with a cocky smile.

"I'm not," you mutter.

If you can trust anyone in your life to follow through on helping you with such a monumental undertaking, it's Ari Levinson. He's the kind of friend who sticks around. He won't even leave when you two argue, which is borderline annoying, but he is that reliable.

I'm not going anywhere until you see sense, woman.

Granted, half of the time it's Ari who sees sense and admits you're right. That's when he sticks around to apologize and makes sure you both cool down. He's bull-headed and strong, strong like a friggin' ox, so he's--

Ari puts his empty glass on the floor and rubs his neck with his undamaged hand. You can tell by the way his bicep bulges and the veins in his forearm pop that he is using whatever force he can to get at a knot.

"Here, let me help." It's the least you can do.

Sheepish blue eyes flicker over to you. "Yeah, okay." His voice is softer than usual as he scoots forward for you to position yourself behind him, seated up on the back of the couch.

The height gives you good leverage to knead into the taut muscles of his shoulders, but you can't make much headway over the cotton shirt.

"Why are you built like a brick shithouse," you grumble loudly, digging as best you can while he seems barely affected.

Ari snorts. "Thank you?"

You jump off the couch and head to the bathroom. "This isn't working."

He's standing in confusion by the time you return with your bottle of lotion.

"Sit," you insist. "Shirt off."

He flops back down but eyes you questioningly. "You sure?"

For such a big man, he looks so cute when he pouts, so you kiss his temple playfully.

"Yes, I'm sure. How else am I gonna stop you from filing worker's comp?"

That makes him snort again, and he rips the tank off over his head.

Now, you've seen Ari shirtless probably hundreds of times, but there's never been an occasion to touch him other than a bit of suntan oil at the beach several summers ago. Sitting this close behind him gives you full view (and access) to the expanse of his back--

--and hoo boy, is it expansive.

Right at the base of his neck and down his spine, Ari's slippery with sweat, but you add a pump of lotion, working first at his right shoulder and then his left, warming up his muscles and your hands until everything is a bit more pliable.

When you grip and knead at the column of his neck, his head lolls forward and Ari moans, a sound that somehow makes you giggle and clench your thighs all at once.

"Sorry," he mutters, "feels nice."

Seems so, you bite back. Instead, you simply say, "good."

It's indulgent and fascinating to see and feel such strength yield beneath your touch, so you get lost in working his back, his shoulders, his neck, and then his chest when Ari melts backward to lean between your spread legs. You're following the corded bands in his pecs. You've grabbed more lotion three times when he finally breaks again.

"Fuck, you've got magic hands, woman."

Up until now, he's made pleased noises and offered soft praise for your efforts, but the timber of that statement is much lower and undeniably more sexual.

Ari's your best friend, so you know when he's dating someone. You know it's likely been a few months since he last got laid, and since he's a relatively affectionate man, you rationalize that he just can't help his phrasing at this particular moment.

That's what it is.

He's a bit touch-starved, but he's not starving for your touch.

You only realize you've stopped moving when his hand encircles your wrist.

You can't think of anything to say, so your mouth hangs open as you watch Ari crane his neck to look up at you with brilliant, blue eyes.

Don't undo my handiwork, you think. The angle of his head looks uncomfortable, but Ari doesn't move.

You're completely frozen in place, wondering what he's thinking, what you're thinking, if you should be thinking it at all, and then he pounces.

He stands so fast and pulls you so swiftly to him that the couch tips over, and you both land along the back cushions as if they are the seat.

Ari's plush lips and rough beard sear a hot trail across your jaw till he finds your mouth, and that same dirty moan of his vibrates down your own body this time. His hands paw at your baggy work shirt until you feel the textured bandage slide across your bare ribcage. The contact makes you shiver up into his hold and open for him, allowing his tongue in, a gush of arousal soaking your underwear.

Ok, fine, maybe it's been a while for you, too.

Your fingers dig into the lotion-slicked skin of his back while he ruts against you, each roll of his hips pushing your shorts tighter and tighter against your heat.

But the top half of the couch isn't angled for this. You two lose balance and topple halfway onto the floor. The fall knocks Ari out of whatever feral trance he was in, and his hips stop moving.

He buries his face in your neck, panting.

You can hardly hear him say your name.

"I'm sorry, I--" he drags his hand away from your breast to press it to the floor and hold some of his weight "--I didn't want to tell you like this." He won't remove his head from its hiding place.

"Tell me what," you gasp, scrambling to control a frantic heartrate and throbbing core. "That I have magic hands?"

You expect a laugh and instead get a heavy thrust of his pelvis in response.

"Fuck, honey."

Yeah, no chance you're gonna wrangle that throbbing now.

Ari still won't lift his head, but he does turn slightly to suck a mark beneath your ear. The tickling suction makes you keen again, arching up off the floor and cushion enough that his arms thread through the gap beneath you. He has you pinned and wrapped up tight now. You feel him everywhere.

"The times I've imagined this..." His gruff words trail off as he latches another kiss to your collarbone.

Your turn to dry hump him helplessly from below. You're hot all over and about to writhe right out of your skin for more contact.

You swallow harshly, closing your dry, gaping mouth. You have to think while his lips drag up and down your throat, and that is hard to do.

"So what you're saying is--" you take a few big breaths "--we have work to do in the bedroom now?"

Ari groans into your skin.

"Yes," he shouts with elation, using all of those thick muscles to haul you upright.

Your legs cross over his expansive back and hold on as he thunders across the empty house to the lonely mattress beyond.

Buy this one, he said. It's a fixer-upper, he said. I'll help.

Have an idea for a Sweet Sunday Scenario? Send me an ask!

Turns out I wrote a sequel (smutty)! Or you can check out the Bedrock and Blueprints Masterlist.

While I do try to maintain a taglist for series and/or characters, you can also follow @ronearoundlibrary and turn on notifications.

Find a typo? Is the formatting off? Let me know! I’m happy to fix it because English may be my first language but we all make mistakes.

Think I’d enjoy another writer you love? Recommend them to me. Let me know if you write, too! I love to be supportive; I just have to admit it’s hard for me to keep track, so don’t be shy—refer yourself!

Find more on my Main Masterlist!

#ari levinson fanfiction #ari levison x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson smut #sweet sunday asks #ro answers #bedrock and blueprints

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slasherhoe87 · 1 year

Note

we need more of old man Myers ☹

Yes, dear Anon, we do! Which is why I'm going to write these headcanons for all of us.

Peepaw Myers x GN Reader

👨🏻‍🦳WHAT IT'S LIKE LIVING WITH PEEPAW MICHAEL MYERS👨🏻‍🦳:

Peepaw never speaks - ever. The only noises that pass through his easily bruised lips (DON'T give him corn on the cob again!) on a regular basis are grunts and grumbles

Leaves the toilet seat up

Misses most of the time too - expect to find urine on the seat lid and the wall behind the toilet

Never wears his work boots anymore - even on hunts.

Peepaw doesn't give a shit anymore and wears his slippers and bathrobe over his coveralls all the time, even when out killing

Its certainly a sight when he comes back home in the wee hours of the morning, his blue and green tartan slippers tracking blood through the kitchen, bathrobe swaying gently behind him

Sits on the porch in your grandma's old rocking chair most of the day eating soft candies just waiting to scare off pesky kids who dare to put one toe on the lawn

Technology is the devil

Holds the cellphone you bought for him like its going to eat him alive

Only replies with 👍🏻 and 'ok' when you send him a text

Thinks modern horror films are garbage and lack the charm and suspense the superior older ones had

Naps regularly throughout the day. Either in the rocking chair on the porch or the recliner in the living room

He's dying for a nice steak but his poor teeth just can't handle it.

Generally doesn't drink but enjoys a small bourbon or brandy some nights before bed

Takes up most of the bed and hogs the duvet

Stares longingly at the harder candies - especially candy corn at the store before you pull him away and guide him to the softer candies

Backseat driver

Feeds all the stray cats at the nearby park

Chases away all the dogs

Complains at the prices of everything

Gives waiters/waitresses and cashiers the stink eye because of this even though its not their fault

Has a picture of Laurie behind the side door of the garage and throws darts at it

Your threaten to send him to Sunny Meadows nursing home when he gets too difficult

Will try and fix something before you buy a new one

Likes rock 'n' roll and classic metal

Thinks modern music is trash and soulless noise

Likes to take late afternoon strolls with you in the park while holding hands

Doesn't own a single pair of underwear - he's commando all day every day

Refuses to go the doctors for anything

You end up bribing him with making his favourite pie: strawberry and rhubarb

Gives you the reins more often in the bedroom than he used to

Happy to lie on his aching back at let you do the work (he wouldn't even dream of letting you be so in charge a few years prior)

Enjoys soft love making more than he used to

Likes drinking your homemade sweet tea and lemonade on the porch

Will pinch your bottom every time he walks past you

Likes to crack his knuckles

Wants to murder your neighbor (she's a clone of Corey Cunningham's mother)

Hates loud parties. Will go to the offending house and cut their power before walking back home with a satisfied smile

Likes cuddling with you in bed and peppering your neck and cheek with chaste kisses

I could go on and on really. But anyway, hope you enjoy! 🎃❤

#peepaw michael myers #peepaw myers #michael myers #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher headcanons #slasher fucker #slasher community

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apocalypticavolition · 2 months

Text

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 40: Damane

Look dear reader, if you don't know what you're getting into this chapter, you really shouldn't keep reading. You shouldn't do it anyway unless you like spoilers for the whole series, but this chapter is better to avoid anyway than most. It's a lot. Don't keep going.

Behold the a'dam icon! Simple, geometrically pleasing, and utterly filled with menace. It's perfect and it's evil.

When she did notice them she stared uncertainly; they were as odd a group as she had ever seen, and she had heard too many rumors of the war on Toman Head.

One of the problems of being trusting of authority figures is that when they're leading you astray you become unable to properly respond to dangerous situations. Liandrin's actions here are probably why Egwene ends up so power hungry later on; she can't let herself be subordinate to someone who might abuse her again.

Oddest of all was the last woman, reclining on a palanquin borne by eight muscular, bare-chested men in baggy black trousers. The sides of her scalp were shaved so that only a wide crest of black hair remained to fall down her back. A long, cream-colored robe worked in flowers and birds on blue ovals was carefully arranged to show her skirts of pleated white, and her fingernails were a good inch long, the first two on each hand lacquered blue.

Meet Suroth. She's fucking evil and has a terrible fashion sense.

“What are you talking about?” Nynaeve demanded. “What is she talking about, Liandrin?” Liandrin laid a hand on Nynaeve’s shoulder and one on Egwene’s.

1. Note that Nynaeve again omits the title "Sedai".

2. Note that Liandrin doesn't even acknowledge these girls as people any more than the Seanchan do.

“Liandrin Sedai,” she said urgently, “who are these people? Are they here to help Rand and the others, too?”

Poor, sweet Egwene. It's rather sad that the EF5 member most eager to see the world is the one who is by far the most naive.

Balling her fist tightly, Egwene hit the woman as hard as she could, right in her eye—and staggered and fell to her knees herself, head ringing. It felt as if a large man had struck her in the face.

The forced linking aspect of the a'dam is already an incredible achievement by Deain Sedai, but really that's at least something the One Power is meant to connect. Carrying pain like that means that Deain came very close to creating the Warder Bond too (in some ways more so), something no one in Seanchan would know (the Hawkwing descendants wouldn't have carried that knowledge over) so she was possibly the greatest Aes Sedai in the world at the time. What a waste.

“I will not punish you further this time, since I should have been on guard with a newly caught damane. Know this. You are a damane, a Leashed One, and I am a sul’dam, a Holder of the Leash. When damane and sul’dam are joined, whatever hurt the sul’dam feels, the damane feels twice over. Even to death.

It's nice that the Seanchan Empire does instill this sense of responsibility in superiors regarding their inferiors, but also JESUS FUCKING AL'THOR EVEN TO DEATH???? Fuck them Seanchan.

“The very first thing you must learn,” Renna said, “is to do exactly as you are told, and without delay.”

You'll note I didn't give Seanchan points for their opinions of how superiors should take responsibility when they fuck up and that's because of shit like this.

That, she realized, was what she had detected in the woman’s voice—a certain good will for a dog in training, not quite the friendliness one might have toward another human being.

This is one of the many reasons there's no such thing as a good slave owner, by the way. Especially not when it comes to chattel slavery.

She wanted to go to Min, but the amount of leash Renna had let out would not reach that far. She called softly, “Min, are you all right?”

The haters never mention how Egwene is more worried about Min than herself in this situation, even though Egwene's situation is way, way, way worse.

“I brought you three,” Liandrin said calmly. “If you cannot manage to hold them, perhaps our master should find another among you to serve him. You take fright at trifles. If patrols come, kill them.”

Oh yeah, and here's another problem with the sheer vertical cliff that is the Seanchan hierarchy: in any sane society, the lessers would be able to report Suroth as a Darkfriend and Aes Sedai sympathizer and something would happen, but they don't and I don't think it's because they don't care.

“Elayne is of no importance, but both the woman and this girl here must be taken with you on your ships when you sail.”

How utterly wrong the Dark is. They clearly weren't expecting anyone other than the DR to be relevant last book and were frustrated with the three for one trick, and now they've added the girls to the roster but not all of them. They're utterly oblivious to how much of a team effort things are.

Should you survive the encounter, the leash and collar will teach you a new life, and I do not believe our master will trouble to deliver one foolish enough to let herself be taken.

Suroth's got that much right, but of course is much too short-sighted and self-interested to think things through.

She had to save Min. If it means groveling. . . . She parted her lips and hoped her gritted teeth would pass for a smile. “Yes, High Lady.” “And if I spare her, if I allow her to visit you occasionally, you will work hard and learn as you are taught?” “I will, High Lady.” She would have promised much more to keep that sword from splitting Min’s skull. I’ll even keep it, she thought sourly, as long as I have to.

This exchange (and everything a'dam related, obviously) is another thing that clearly leads from Egwene being a dedicated teacher's pet, mostly follow the rules type to the ambitious semi-fiend we'll know later on. She's glad to help Min but she's subconsciously being taught that authority only exists to be subverted to your own ends.

“You were honored,” Renna said after a time, “having the High Lady speak to you. Another time, I would let you wear a ribbon to mark the honor. But since you brought her attention on yourself. . . .”

And this is why Suroth can proudly conspire as a Darkfriend in front of Renna even though Renna isn't a Darkfriend, why she can let an Aes Sedai run free around a sul'dam. This absurd standard that applies to Egwene applies to Renna too and everyone else. Never draw the attention of your betters, even if it's for their own good.

Min raised a fist, then let it fall. “I won’t interfere. Only, please, stop it. Egwene, I’m sorry.” The unseen blows went on for a few moments more, as if to show Min her intervention had done nothing, then ceased, but Egwene could not stop shuddering.

This is a reason why it's so upsetting to see Min shanghaied by the Seanchan in the Last Battle, because she knows them at their worst. She's gonna have to do a lot of truth speaking to Tuon, even when Tuon fucking hates it, if she's going to make much difference overseas.

“Liandrin”—Egwene would not give her the honorific, not ever again—“and the High Lady spoke of a master they both serve.” The thought came into her head of a man with almost healed burns marring his face, and eyes and mouth that sometimes turned to fire, but even if he was only a figure in her dreams that seemed too horrible to contemplate.

No Egwene, you've basically got it exactly correct.

She knew it was silly to avoid naming Nynaeve—she did not think any of these people would forget her just because her name was not mentioned, especially the blue-eyed sul’dam stroking her empty leash—but it was the only way she could think of fighting back at the moment.

Rand and Egwene have very parallel arcs, and this seems to be her inverted equivalent of an earlier moment of his: he shouted the Aiel oath of defiance involuntarily against nothing in particular, drawn into power. She's being pulled against her will too, but her defiance is both very real and yet tragically more inconsequential than the oath he swore.

One such, a woman named Deain, who thought she could do better serving the Emperor—he was not Emperor then, of course—since he had no Aes Sedai in his armies, came to him with a device she had made, the first a’dam, fastened to the neck of one of her sisters. Though that woman did not want to serve Luthair, the a’dam required her to serve. Deain made more a’dam, the first sul’dam were found, and women captured who called themselves Aes Sedai discovered that they were in fact only marath’damane, Those Who Must Be Leashed. It is said that when she herself was leashed, Deain’s screams shook the Towers of Midnight, but of course she, too, was a marath’damane, and marath’damane cannot be allowed to run free.

Firstly: the first sul'dam were found after the first a'dam was made and the first collar attached. This very infodump all but gives away the twist! Deain herself must have been wearing the bracelet then.

Secondly: How much like the Shadow the Empire is, that it was strengthened so hideously by a woman who thought that she might benefit herself from service, and that her only reward was suffering from her actions.

“From time to time the Empress plays with lords by linking them to a damane. It makes the lords sweat and entertains the Court of the Nine Moons. The lord never knows until it is done whether he will live or die, and neither does the damane.”

These dudes are mostly the male equivalent of sul'dam and so their deaths (let alone the deaths of the damane, who don't deserve anything that happens to them) aren't even productive for removing male channelers who have the spark from threatening the populace. It's just murder for fun.

Egwene was shocked to discover an urge to do as Renna commanded. She had not channeled, or even touched saidar, in two days; the desire to fill herself with the One Power made her shiver.

Here's the closest thing to a downside that power addiction has for Egwene.

Frantically she reached for saidar, meaning to hurt Renna enough to make her stop, just the kind of hurt she herself had been given. The sul’dam shook her head wryly; Egwene howled as her own skin was suddenly scalded. Not until she fled from saidar completely did the burn begin to fade, and the unseen blows never ceased or slowed.

If I have to read such horrible things, you do too.

“It is good that you have spirit,” Renna said calmly. “The best damane are those who have spirit to be shaped and molded.”

The best damane are those who have to be beaten a hundred times as much as any other just to be good? This empire really does run on BDSM.

Her contact with saidar was gone, and she could not bring it back. In that first fury of knowing that Liandrin had betrayed them, saidar had been there almost before she knew it, the One Power flooding her. It had seemed she could do anything.

The circumstances they're in probably made Nynaeve's power level grow two sizes just from the sheer terror. Plus all the training at the Tower probably kicked in a bit too.

I don’t think they got away, Nynaeve. I should have done something. Min cut the hand that was holding me, and Egwene. . . . I just ran, Nynaeve. I realized I was free, and I ran. Mother had better marry Gareth Bryne and have another daughter as soon as she can. I am not fit to take the throne.

Survivor's guilt is a terrible thing, and Jordan likely heard or even experienced stories of people abandoning each other in the chaos of Vietnam. He's also quite right (through Nynaeve's words) that Elayne is a silly goose for hating herself for breaking under the pressure.

Why are they interested in Egwene and me? Why us in particular? Why did Liandrin do this? Why?

I'm a bit surprised Nynaeve doesn't remember that Liandrin knows they're connected to Rand, but I suppose her source of knowledge about Rand's relative specialness being Moiraine means she's inclined to just toss it aside and ignore it.

I have no intention of buying us dresses, and they won’t be new in any case. My gray silk dress will do us some good, with all those pearls and that gold thread. If I can’t find a woman who will trade us each two or three sturdy changes for that, I will give you this ring, and I will be the novice.

Really the difficulty might be finding a woman in these parts who feels like she can keep a silk dress with pearls and gold in any state of repair. Eventually finery gets so rich that poverty would ruin it on contact. But Nynaeve keeps her accepted ring so I guess things work out!

To speak no word that is not true. That was one, but everyone knew that the truth an Aes Sedai said might not be the truth you thought you heard.

Like I said last chapter, Nynaeve really should have been a lot more suspicious. I suppose she cares of Rand too much to stand by while he's under any kind of threat, even if it's a very tenuous one.

Speaking of, next time: Rand vs. Ba'alzamon again!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #robert jordan #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #egwene al'vere #liandrin guirale #zaired elbar #renna emain #alwhin #suroth sabelle meldarath #nynaeve al'meara #elayne trakand #min farshaw

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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years

Text

la vie en rose- Part 2 (of many)

-Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x reader (eventually); Elliot (Euphoria) x reader

-Summary: After the New Years Party and the incident that occurred there, things are a bit awkward. Reader goes to confront Fez about his safety, or lack thereof, and Elliot and reader have a cute texting moment. Also, enter Faye lol.

-Warnings: Swearing, flirting, implied sexual doings, injury, mention of blood and injury, mention of death, Nate Jacobs and Cal Jacobs. Enough said with those two.

-Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: Hi guys! So I freaked out after I started getting likes on my first part of this so I decided to go and clean up part 2. I've been on tumblr for years and years and I know I always appreciated a writer who posted frequently so, here I am :)

Also I for sure lied and made Elliot able to speak French. Go with it. Faye is a queen and I genuinely don't take Faye slander. If she turns out to be evil, then you guys can hold that against me.

Part 1

My head whips over to the sound of the noise just in time to see Fez take Nate to the ground, a group developing around them. What the actual fuck, Fezco? I hear multiple people whistle and call out as I listen to fists hit against skin and bone. My heart breaks as I shuffle in Elliot’s lap. My body seems to be frozen as Elliot’s voice drowns out behind me.

Is this my luck? The two men who are very near and dear to my heart have to go out of their way to kill each other?

Shifting my glance to the ground, broken glass scatters around the floor and I think for a moment, wondering if that was the sound. Thoughts run through my head at once, my words lodged in my throat as I turn to look at Elliot. He looks more worried about me than what’s going on in the middle of the room, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek gently.

Quickly pushing myself off of Elliot’s lap, I hear my name leave his lips but I choose to ignore it. I push my way to the front of the crowd, a gasp getting stuck in my throat as I see them. Nate’s face is already beat into a pummel, blood seeping out of every crevice. And Fezco does not let up. His fist winds up over and over again, beating the shit out of the jock with no remorse. No one does anything for a while, just enjoying the fight as Nate seemingly takes it, no fight being fought from his side. That is until Maddy and Cassie, who’s finally made an appearance, try their best to get Fez off of Nate, but it just ends with both of them shoved back into the people of the crowd. Angry yells and cheers call out throughout the room, some people wanting Fez to stop and others hoping he’d kill him. Fair enough. I get both sides. Jules and Rue stand to the side, Jules cradling Rue to her chest as they look at the men with shocked glances. I send Rue a simple what the fuck under my breath as she shakes her head, seemingly just as confused as I am.

McKay joins the fight now, trying his best to get involved to get Fez off of him. Deciding to be done with this, I reach forward, helping McKay pull him off of Nate who’s clearly done for but Fez’s elbow reclines, hitting me square in the nose as I curse loudly. I watch as the room turns to me, now even more fearful. But not fearful of Fez’s reaction. Fearful of mine. I watch as Fez’s head flies back to look at me, his jaw dropping as he makes his way to his feet.

“Fucking hell, Fezco!” I fold in half, a hand on my back as my head spins. Turning around to see Elliot, his jaw is square and angry as he looks to Fez, fury behind his eyes. “Stop.” I point at him before another fight breaks out, turning to look at Nate who’s barely conscious. “Oh my god.” I shutter, fighting the urge to go with them, but I think that it would only make it worse.

Bile rises in my throat as I watch the scene before me. Maddy, Cassie and McKay work to get Nate off the floor, peeling him off the ground like a piece of tape. My angry glare shifts to focus on Fez who pays no mind to me as he shoves his way past the crowd. “Fezco!” I scream, following him out of the house, a few steps behind as he flexes his fists. “You’re my ride and you fucking broke my nose, jackass.” That must’ve been the final straw because he finally turns around, his face angry until he sees me grasping my bloody nose. His face falls, his lips parting but no words come out for a few moments. Looking down at him, I realize that he must’ve had this planned because his sweater is gone, a white shirt now covering blood. Shaking my head at him, I fold my arms over my chest.

“You weren’t supposed to get involved, kid.” He huffs, looking back to the running car, his brother in the front seat before turning back to me. He reaches forward, gently pulling my hand away from my nose, taking a step closer to look at it. Gently cupping my jaw, he tilts my head up as I hiss. “Shit, I’m sorry, ma.” He whispers, his eyes sorry as he looks past me, his hand dropping. “Can you get her home?” He calls out, my head craning to see Elliot approaching us, angry. Scoffing, I turn back to Fez who looks at me, almost waiting to be yelled at.

“Fez, you can’t leave without explaining why you did that. You just beat the shit out of my friend.” I scoff, feeling Elliots hand on my back as Fez backs up, his jaw tensing at my use of the word friend.

“Stay outta it.” He points at me as a warning but I can tell he means for my best interest and not as a threat. “Okay, kid?” He asks again and I roll my eyes, sending him a nod as he lets out a sigh of relief, opening the door to the car. “Good girl. Text me if you need me and get better friends!” He calls out before stepping inside the car, motioning to Ashtray to drive. Huffing as they pull out of the driveway, my stomach swirls in nausea as I turn to Elliot who frowns at me. He gently reaches up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone.

“Is it broken, doctor?” I ask quietly and he shakes his head, leaning down to place a kiss against the sore skin. “Can you take me home now?” I ask tiredly, his hands gently taking mine in his, making his way back towards his bike.

The next day was awkward.

I went to the hospital to visit Nate, my hand in his as Maddy and Cassie watched me from across the room. I didn’t know what to say to him once he woke up. I had zero clue what to do. Nor did I know what to say to the girls or any of Nate’s family. It seemed like no one but the people there that night knew that it was Fez who beat the shit out of him but I could tell that Cal Jacob’s wanted to know. I kept my mouth shut, sharing glances with Cassie and Maddy every time his mother would make a comment about wanting to know who’d do this to her baby. My heart broke as I left the hospital room, not knowing if he was gonna be okay.

That was until he lived two, three, four, five more days and was awake. When I visited him after he finally went home, the first thing he did was ask about my nose. I told him that it was collateral damage when I was trying to rip Fezco off of him. His demeanor went from upset to sheepish, embarrassed. He knows I’d defend him, even if it was against the man that’s had my heart for years. He was okay though. Nate was okay and he had no plan on getting back at Fez for whatever reason. Nate said that apparently he had it coming and Fez warned him once and apparently Nate went and did exactly what Fez said not to. But even though he wasn’t about to rat out Fez, his father was hell bent on learning who did it. And that worried me more. Because I wouldn’t put it past him figuring it out on his own. He had a knack for that.

“I don’t know Jules. It scared me.” I whisper as I close my bedroom door, leaning up against the wood. “He didn’t care that he almost killed him. He was more worried about me and my semi-broken nose.” I explain and she chuckles breathily through the line. “When I went to go see Nate, he was more caught up in my nose than the fact that he was bed ridden because of my best friend.” I huff, pushing off from the door to fall onto my bed. I stare up at the ceiling aimlessly, watching as the fan spins around in circles.

“Because Fez hates Nate and adores you. That’s why he was worried.” She responds simply and I scoff, making my way to the bed. “He’s worried about you more than usual lately. Especially with everything that’s been going on between you and Elliot.” My head spins with suspicion, my heart pounding in my chest as my mind spins. “He worries about you.” She coos and I can almost see the smile on her face in my mind. Feeling my phone buzz against my face, I pull it away, seeing Lexi’s name across the front of it.

“Hey, Lexi’s calling me. I’ll talk to you later okay?” I tell her, hearing her hum in acknowledgement as we say a quick goodbye. Picking up the other line, I hear her sigh of relief. “What’s up, Lex?” I ask, but I can tell by how she’s breathing hoarsely that something’s wrong. “Lexi?” I call out again, hearing her gasp quietly before clearing her throat.

“I need you to do something and not tell anyone.” She starts, her voice shaky and scared as I pause, my breathing stopping. “I need you to go tell Fez that Cal knows it’s him who beat up Nate. I need you to hang out with him because Cal won’t do anything if you’re there. Cassie just gave him up to Cal with no hesitation and if I leave now everyone will know that I knew.” She mutters quickly, my heart dropping in my chest as I sit up, my head almost hitting against the top of my bunk bed. Seconds go by without words, my mind running with all the possibilities of what this means. “I gotta go, just text me. Do it, please.” Before I can reply, she hangs up, my heart beating wildly in my chest as I find my way to my feet shakily.

Looking down at my phone, Elliot’s name coming up on the screen, I huff, ignoring it as I make my way out the door. I quietly step my way down the stairs in order to not startle my dad who’s passed out in the living room. Sliding out the front door, my walking turns to jogging, then turns to a full on sprint as I run down on the pavement, the sky getting darker above me. Tears fill my eyes as the intrusive thoughts of Fez lying on the ground, similar to Nate, but instead Cal is standing over him with a gun. The thought of me standing in front of Fez knowing full well that I’d take a bullet over him any and every day. Fuck.

Turning the corner into the parking lot, I see no cars, just the flickering lights above the carport. My lungs wheeze as I approach the entrance, wiping my tears brutally. I see Fez, his legs swinging in front of him as he looks down on his phone. My heart swells at the sight of him, but I put my obvious love for him aside and get straight to business.

“Fez!” I call out, stumbling into the store as his eyebrows pull together, confused by my chaotic state. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.” I gasp out, stepping up to him as he hops off the counter, immediately stepping up to me. He looks over my body for any sign of injury, his hands hovering above my arms. Looking past him, a blonde girl with way too much lip filler sits on top of the cooler. Tilting my head at her, getting distracted, not knowing her or where she came from. I look back to Fez suspiciously.

“She’s cool. She’s stayin’ with me a bit.” He explains vaguely, not answering any of my questions as he smiles down at me, his eyes looking over my face. “The nose looks better. What’s brought you all the way out here?” He laughs sheepishly, his eyes nervous as my face falls, remembering the real reason why I came here. His face drops at my nervous expression, my hands shaking at my side as he nods gently, reading the room. I watch him softly, feeling him place a hand on my shoulder before pulling me where the girl can’t see us. “What’s up?” His voice deepens in worry, his eyes wide.

“Cassie told Cal it was you who beat up Nate. I came to tell you and stay here with you just in case Cal came here and hurt you. I don’t think he’d hurt you if I was here.” I shake my head, nerves filling my stomach as I huff, my eyes filling with anxious tears. Blinking them away, I look up at him. He has a small smile on his lips as he nods, reaching forward to pull me into a hug.

“Thanks for lookin’ out for me.” He whispers against my hair, nodding softly. I hum quietly, my hands patting his back politely as he lets me out of his grasp. “How’d you find out ‘bout Cas?” He asks, leaning against the wall as my feet shuffle under me.

“Lexi called me.” I answer simply with a shrug, the small smile on his lip growing as he laughs quietly. “She couldn’t leave without it being suspicious. I’m sure Cal would’ve known.” I shrug, running my fingers through my hair as I panic. “Fez, what’re you gonna do? I’m in the clear because I’ve been visiting Nate and his parents know me but they don’t know I know you nor that we’re as close as we are.” I ramble, my hands in the air as I fall apart in front of him. But he seems calm and stoic.

“I’ve got a few guns here. Ash is always here. If you don’t want to stay, I get it.” He whispers reassuringly, my heart thumping as he gazes down at me. “I wouldn’t want you to be involved in this shit to begin with.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Yet, where I am, you are.” He laughs and I blush, reaching up to scratch the back of my neck.

“You know I’m a sucker for helping the less fortunate.” I wink, reaching forward to punch his shoulder playfully. He laughs, his head leaning back to rest on the metal wall. We stand there in silence for a moment, the overwhelming anxiety in the air suffocating me, forcing me to break it. “Do we just wait until he shows up? I’m gonna stay, you can’t change my mind.” I tell him and he knows better than to argue. “He’s gonna show up Fez. It’s not gonna be pretty. Nate already swore that he wouldn’t get involved with you anymore or anything that concerns you.” I confess, his eyebrows raising at my words. “Yeah, he said that. He said that he deserved what happened to him. I was shocked too.” I scoff, rubbing my eyes as I make my way to stand next to him.

“Yeah well, he says he’s not gonna get caught up in shit that concerns me, but you concern me.” He says simply, my cheeks heating up even more at his kind words. A smile stretches across my lips as I look away from him, goosebumps erupting on my skin. “And I know that he definitely wants to get caught up in you.” He snorts, my eyes rolling as I bump his elbow with mine. “Same with that Elliot dude- who even is he, Y/n?” He asks, annoyed at the name leaving his lips. “Cuz last time I checked, I was your best friend, dude.” I laugh with a small smile, shaking my head as I look at my feet.

“Him and I aren’t exactly the typical best friends.” I reply vaguely, his face looking even more intrigued at my response. “Well, he sticks his tongue down my throat and I stick his dick in my mouth.” I giggle, watching as Fez’s face turns beat red, as he scoffs, pushing off against the wall. I smirk as I watch him pace uncomfortably. “In all fairness, he’s a really good kid. He lives with his cousin and a cat and his place is sort of a safe place for me. He plays guitar and sings to me. It’s nice actually.” I shrug, my chest warming at the thought of him. Reaching in my pocket, I remember his message from earlier. “In fact, he texted me.” I grin, watching as Fez approaches my side to peer over my shoulder, reading the boy's message.

Doudou Excuse me, I haven’t seen your eyes or your boobs in like a week. This is shocking to me and I’m sure you’ll feel bad when you realize I’ve been dying over here without them. Especially your eyes.

Okay, if you’re with Jules or Fez, you’re excused, but come to my house after you're done. I miss you sweetheart. Also I saw your snapchat story last night and I was too dumb to reply to it but you looked so beautiful.

I haven’t done drugs since New Years. I think that’s cool.

“Yo, this kid, how many more messages?” Fez asks, taking the phone from me as he swipes. I giggle, resting my head on his shoulder as he reads. I take in his proximity, enjoying it while I can. “What’s his name in your phone about?” He asks and I blush vividly, an uncontrollable smile appearing on my face.

DouDou I wrote a new song. I wanna play it for you.

“It means teddy in French. Like, teddy bear. He knows some French.” I trail off, Fez nods simply, his eyes trained on the floor, jaw angled. “Yeah, he messages me like that a lot. I like it.” I whisper, taking my phone back as I type out a reply. “He’s a really good kid, Fez. And with all of my issues with men, I’m lucky to have him even though it’s not gonna go anywhere.” I shrug, spinning in circles as I look up at the flickering lights.

“Why not?” Fez asks, pulling out a joint as he lights it up. He takes a hit before handing it to me as I think of what to say. Because I’m in love with you so Elliot is letting me use him as my drug.

“He’s a drug addict. Not a recovering one, not one who wants to get better. I’m lucky he’s still alive.” I answer simply, taking a long hit from the blunt before slipping it back into his fingers. “And, the thing about being best friends with benefits, is that I get a good fuck, I have someone to talk to and I’m still single.” I chuckle with a smile as he rolls his eyes, a smirk on his lips. “You should try it, Fez.” I offer, trying to seem aloof and nonchalant but the words make me want to throw up. He shakes his head almost immediately, looking down at his feet.

“Not for me.” He shrugs, putting out the joint as he motions for me to follow him inside. “Aye Faye!” He calls out, the bubbly girl appearing in the doorway. She smiles widely at me, her hand out in front of her as I smile back at her, shaking her hand.

“I’m Faye.” I look at Fez who smiles at the interaction before looking back at her.

“I’m Y/n.” I introduce myself but she scoffs, looking at Fez with wide eyes.

“Oh I know who you are.” She sends me a wink, Fez looking at her with daggers as my eyebrows pull together in confusion as the inside hint. I have no idea what that means. “So I overheard your best friends with benefit type of situation. Does it actually work cuz I need something like that?” She asks as I sit down in the folding chair, watching as she leans up against the counter that Fez has returned to sitting on.

“Well, it’s okay to enjoy someone’s ‘extra’ presence without putting a label on any of it. I used to be a real goodie-two-shoes so this is very odd of me to not need to know how he feels about me.” I chuckle, feeling Fez’s eyes on me as I shrug with a smile. “Him and I care for each other and we both have different priorities when it comes to love. Me, it’s complicated, and he’s so in love with drugs that he can’t afford to give himself to someone who doesn’t understand potential loss.” Faye watches me intently, nodding along as I speak.

“Whatchu means it’s complicated? You could have any guy you wanted.” Faye laughs at Fez’s comment, my cheeks warming at Faye’s agreeable nod, both of their eyes on me as they look for clarification. Maybe not any guy. Fez’s eyes are confusing, emotion swirling in them as I huff, trying to put it into the right words.

“Uh, I don’t know. I guess I’m not completely over my feelings for this one person so I can’t really be in a relationship if I’m still in love with someone else. Trust me. I tried.” I scoff, looking to the ground as Faye lets out a sigh. Fez looks shocked at my answer, surprised that I have such heavy feelings for someone and that I didn’t tell him about it. Great, now he’s never gonna let that go.

“Yeah, I get that. But this guy you’re seeing now understands your feelings for someone else and he’s okay with it?” Faye asks and I send her back a simple nod, not needing to say anything else. “Well he’s super fucking cool.” She laughs and I nod, agreeing. “Is it big?” She asks in a whisper with wide eyes as I grin, looking away from her as I bury my face in my hands.

“Yo, shut up, the two of you.” Fez mutters under his breath with an uncomfortable laugh. Looking back up at Faye, I give her a quick wink, answering her question silently as she bursts out in giggles. “You two are best fucking friends now. Fuck that.” Fez runs a hand over the top of his head as he looks between the both of us. Folding my legs to my chest, I blow him a kiss as he waves me off playfully. Feeling my phone buzz beneath me, I see Elliot’s name across the screen, my cheeks heating up. Fez and Faye look to me as I answer it, both of them knowing who it is based on my face.

“Could you not wait like an hour?” I ask Elliot as I answer the phone, looking up at the bugs that attack the fluorescent lights above our heads. Hearing him chuckle, I smile.

“I just missed you and your annoying voice. You still with loverboy?” He asks eagerly and I hear the strings of the guitar in the background. “I can practically smell the infatuation through the phone.” I giggle, shaking my head at his jab.

“Yeah I’m with Fez. Just hanging out to make sure everything is okay. I’m good.” I respond, knowing that he’s more worried than anything. If I wouldn’t have mentioned Cal, he wouldn’t have worried. “Whatchu up to?” I ask, looking down to see Faye looking at me expectantly as Fez sneaks glances at me every once in a while, his gaze curious. Is it curiosity? Or maybe he’s just being protective again.

“Waiting for you to get your ass here so I can go down on you.” He replies simply, my jaw dropping as I fumble my way to my feet. Without a word, I make my way outside for privacy as I blush. I stay within Fez’s gaze knowing that given the circumstances with Cal, it’s for the best.

“Watch your mouth, Elliot.” I whisper with a grin, my cheeks hot. “We were literally just talking about you. Fez has this girl staying with him, probably a drug thing, but she was asking me all these questions about you.” I giggle at his shocked gasp, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. My gaze rises, catching Fez’s eyes as he watches me. His eyebrows quirk up a bit, a soft, sheepish smile on his lips. His eyes shine with something unreadable and the look holds until Elliot speaks in my ear. What the fuck was that look?

“I actually just wanna spend time with you. Lay in bed and shit. I just feel like I need to rest. But just not alone.” He explains, his voice sad as I coo, nodding.

“I’ll be over as soon as I can, okay? Maybe I’ll have something interesting to tell you about Fez, hmm? I already gotta tell you about this girl, just wait.” I giggle, hearing his small, tired chuckles over the line. “Let me know if you need anything on my way. I might have Fez drop me off or something.” I explain as he hums in acknowledgement. “Bye bubs.” I whisper, hearing a quiet bye from his end before hanging up. Making my way back into the shop, Faye looks at me with wide eyes, a giggle leaving her lips. “He’s just lonely. Having a rough night. I’ll probably go over in a little bit and stay the night.” I sit back down in my chair, shoving my phone in my pocket.

“Damn girl, get that shit.” Faye claps her hands, her gaze shifting to Fez who’s glare in on the ceiling. “Does he live, like, far?” She asks and my face falls, answering her question. “Oh, so far.” She asks with a laugh at my expression as I wave her off.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll figure it out.” I chuckle, looking at Fez who sighs, hopping off of the counter, approaching me. My stomach twists up as he looks down at me with a soft smile. “Do you know what I’m gonna ask?” I ask quietly with a laugh, his hands fumbling in his pocket to pull out his keys. “Thank you, thank you.” Standing up abruptly, I press a quick kiss to his cheek as I help him close up shop. I flick off the lights as he pulls down the metal door, locking it up as Faye looks to us.

“Am I going with?” She asks and I snort, looking at Fez with a deadpan expression. Oh my god this chick is a hoot.

“Uh, yeah, Faye, you stayin’ with me so you gotta.” He chuckles, making his way towards me to wrap an arm around my shoulder. Walking to his car, I look up to Fez, a small smile on my lips. “Whatchu lookin’ at?” He asks quietly, sneaking a glance at me as I blush.

“Thank you for letting me hang out with you just so I know you’re okay.” I whisper, his thumb gently rubbing circles into my skin as he smiles.

“We’re family. I do that for family.” He responds simply, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of my head. Wrapping an arm around his waist, I stop him, wrapping in a tight hug. He seems surprised for a moment, not realizing that his words meant so much to me. If only he knew. “You gotta stay safe, alright?” He asks quietly, rubbing my back as I nod, pulling away from him as make the rest of the way to his car.

When we arrive at Elliot’s, my leg bounces at my side, my hands sweating in my lap. I’ve only been to Elliots a few times, the only times being in the middle of the night. I pray to god that tonight is not the night that I meet his cousin. I have had too much weed for an introduction of that kind.

“Text me, kid.” I hear Fez as he reaches over, gently placing his hand on my knee. I look to him with a nervous smile. “I’ll let you know if anythin’ happens with Cal.” He promises, squeezing my knee gently before nodding towards the door. “Go.” Turning in my chair, I smile at Faye who grins and claps her hands.

“Get dick, girl! I’ll see you soon, I’m fucking sure.” She chuckles as I roll my eyes, sending one more wink her way before I step out of the car.

Elliot stands on the front steps, wrapped in a blanket as he sends a wave to Fez behind me. A huge grin settles on his face as I blush, immediately taking him into my arms the minute I’m close enough. I hear Fez’s car drive off behind me, knowing in my heart that he saw our embrace. He he.

“Hi honey.” I whisper, my fingers going to his hair as he lets out a sigh of relief, his chin resting on my shoulder. Pulling back to cup his cheeks gently in my hands, his eyes flutter shut. “Come on.” I gently give him a little push towards the door and he smiles, taking my hand, leading me through the doorway.

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A/n: So I really liked this chapter. I like a lot of random conversations and issues going on. I live for long fics lol.

Ps. It's wonderful to live in a world where Fez beat the shit out of Nate. Like the artist and his art right there. Shit.

Anyways. -Liz :)

#euphoria series #elliot euphoria #fezco x reader #fezco fanfic #elliot x reader

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janshu · 3 years

Text

Inu!Bakugo...for @ultimate-astridwriting's Hybrid collab!

Summary: My part of the hybrid collab. I had so much fun writing an angry Pomeranian Bakugo. 10/10 would do again. I'm not completely happy with it but who ever is? I'm still proud of myself!

Word count: 2.2k.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Bakugo being an ass, sexual content, somnophilia, collars, choking, humping, creampie, name calling (bitch, slut, whore etc.), use of the word cunt.

You sigh as you rummage around in your pocket to produce the key to your home. After a long day's work all you want to do is get some dinner, take a bath and go to bed but none of those things would be possible would they?

No, not after the spur of the moment decision to adopt a hybrid of all things. The week earlier was one of torrential downpours and near freezing temperatures, the roads making a slushy substance of half-melted ice and salt to prevent the very thing it was being mixed in with. People stayed indoors the best they could when they weren't at work but life had to shit on you and make your car breakdown in the parking garage. Umbrella rested on your shoulder, rain boots on your feet with your spare in your bag and you trudged through cold, mushy hell back home. The streets were barren as a Walmart on a weekday at 4am, no life passing by you until you crossed an alley between two businesses. A pathetic whimper had caught your attention and your gaze drifted down to a soaked cardboard box. What was in that box you weren't sure if you should curse or love. A hybrid.

Narrow red eyes stared at you in suspicion, fangs bared at you but the creature didn't make any attempts to nip at your fingers when they neared to ruffle the spikey head of hair. The hybrid had leaned into your touch before recoiling away as if you had smacked him. The black and orange collar had seen better days, the charm that dangled on the hollow of his neck read "Dynamite" but he didn't give any indication that was his name when you repeated it outloud. He was barely dressed in anything, a thin t-shirt, shorts with ragged Converse that had more holes than Swiss cheese. Truthfully he looked a few days away from starvation and how could you keep that on your conscience if you left him there? After laying your warm coat over his shoulders you somehow, someway, managed to get him back to your place. Everything went downhill from there in the blink of an eye.

The weak puppy persona was gone the moment warm food settled in his belly and within the hour he acted as if you had crowned him king of the house. Beginning his rambles of curses, demands and biting at your fingers. The worst of it happened when you tried to take his collar off for a new one, one that wasn't frayed and barely hanging on. "Katsuki" as he spat out his name with enough venom to put a Black Mamba to shame had flipped over a coffee table, ripped up every couch cushion and went so far to chew on the linoleum on the kitchen floor.

No doubt you'd be greeted with the same sight as always. Messy, dirty, unknown stains everywhere and dishes still in the sink waiting to be moved to the washer. Maybe if he wasn't such a loud ass you could train him but your frazzled nerves were at their wits end. You didn't know what to do, you were about to throw in the towel and put him up for adoption. Yep, you were disappointed to be proven right. Katsuki reclining on the couch lengthwise, remote in his hand with the most bored expression on his face while idly flipping through channels.

"Fucking finally, you're home! I've been waitin' for fucking hours for your ass to get back! I'm hungry, get your shitty ass in the kitchen and make dinner." He barked. Barely giving you any time to hang up your coat and slip off your shoes before his orders began.

"Katsuki...I can't, not tonight." Could your voice portray anymore pleading? Apparently not because he didn't seem to notice, or care.

The fluffy ear at the top of his head only flicked in response, the top lip curling into his signature snarl. "Then what the fuck are you good for? Get your fucking ass in that god damn kitchen and fucking make dinner already."

All that you were good for? All that you were good for? How dare he! He's been freeloading off you for a week now without so much as a thanks for saving him from the streets, feeding him, clothing him, keeping him warm and dealing with his bullshit and this is how he repays you?

"I've fucking had it with you!" Your voice rose higher than you meant to but at this point you didn't care, a line had been crossed. "You fucking sit there and ruin my shit and yet I'm the useless one? I have half a mind to kick you out! You can make your own fucking dinner, I've had it! I'm done! I can't take this anymore!"

Despite not having any clunky shoes on your feet still managed to resonate in the small living room while you stormed past the couch. You had expected anything, anything at all. A slap, a punch, a groan, literally anything but you were met with only silence and that somehow pissed out off even more. How could silence be so infuriating?! You didn't even notice the terror that washed over his face as you screamed at him or the way his chest heaved with the sob or how he trembled underneath your wrathful gaze as you walked away. The bedroom door slamming made short work of that.

"Fuck I'm such an ass.." You mused to yourself already regretting blowing up at him but what would an apology do that wasn't already broken? So better yet why not send yourself to bed without dinner as some kind of punishment? He'd linger at the doorway to the kitchen, staring at you with those intense eyes if you made dinner anyways so why let him win? He could his own shit for fucks sake!

After a quick shower to dethaw your bones and warm up what was left of your dead soul the softness of your pajamas helped ease the guilt gnawing away like a puppy on its first bone. Laying in bed until sleep eventually overcame you and when he knew it was safe to slip in and sneak over towards your bedside.

Rustling was what woke you. The rustling of clothes and the jingle of something metallic in the darkness of the bedroom. Whatever grogginess you normally suffered when waking up was vanishing the more details were dissected and understood by your half-asleep brain, a process that took an embarrassingly long time. Clothes rustling, the bedsheets moving, heavy pants and something incredibly warm nudging up against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Naturally your brain assumed the worst and your eyelids flew open to show nothing; at first. As your eyes adjusted to the pitch black room they found the blazing stare of those vermillion eyes, the bared fangs that belonged to your hybrid.

What the hell was Katsuki doing on top of you?

Noticing that you were awake the snarl turned into a smirk as he huffed, his large chest expanding with each desperate pant. Why did your folds feel so good just as you were waking up?

"Feel that?" How could you not? The feel of a scorching cock bumping up your folds and sensitive clit, wet from the pre leaking from the tip. There was so much of it from what you could feel, too sticky to be your own. His hips had yet to cease moving, no word from your shocked form to still his rutting hips.

"W-what the hell are you doing?" Was the most logical question your brain could come up with in the moment.

"Humping...fucking dumbass." His warm breath created goosebumps on your cool skin, his head must've been so close to yours by the hair tickling your forehead. "Tryin'ta...help ya. Shitty woman.."

"Help? How the fuck is this helping?"

"You've been working so hard so I thought maybe...a good fuck would calm ya down, relax ya." Katsuki's voice was so desperate, so needy, the humping of his cock on your labia increasing.

He was trying to help? He was going to fuck the frustration out of you? Is that was he was offering? Having sex with a hybrid was common enough to not be considered taboo but you couldn't help but feel he was trying to worm his way into your good graces. Unless your words had struck some kind of cord with him. "Okay, alright, I'll let you help."

"Fuck yeah!"

With that the head of his cock nudged against your cunt, already spread and waiting for him. How long had he been doing this for? The burn of the stretch was delicious, he was just big enough to fill you up but not hurt. Settling right up to kiss the tip of your cervix when he bottomed out. His hands grip at your thigh and hip, pulling his back to slam his cock right back into you. Over and over, over and over, over and over. Practically using you as a fleshlight to get himself off but damn if it didn't feel good, him bouncing you on his cock so roughly each thrust was sending the headboard against the wall.

"Oh fuck...oh fuck, Katsuki!" Your hands pat around and eventually find his biceps and you cling on for dear life, your nails digging crescent shaped markings into his skin.

"Yeah, yeah...you like this form of stress relief, don'tcha you dirty slut?" Undoing the collar around his neck the frayed cloth of the strap is tied around your neck, the buckle clamping down tightly to constrict your airflow while two fingers slip under it to pull and tug. "You're my dirty fucking slut! Mine...mine...mine...mine, fucking mine!"

Your fingers trailed down the tiny amount of space between your bodies down to the precious, neglected nub between your legs. Barely able to wiggle your index and middle finger down there from the rabid fucking you were receiving to circle the bundle of nerves and send yourself over the edge. Each clap of your thighs smacking against each other forcing your hate for his behavior ebbing away. If he was going to act like this all the time how could you kick him out?

"F-fuck! Gonna cum...fucking cum..cum for me. Cum with me!" Katsuki snarled as the pressure around your throat increased. Your hand was smacked away from your clit and was replaced with the large pad of his thumb, frantic circles sending your body into a writhing mess of flails and kicks.

The orgasm that had been steadily building from your ministrations had been ripped away and replaced with one quickly approaching to push you over the edge. The white hot pleasure-coil that formed underneath your belly button snapped and all of it coursed through your system in one go. Paralyzing your body for a split second as you squirted all over the hybrids cock, his still rubbing hand sending the liquid everywhere. Coating his thighs, your thighs and the bed underneath you.

"Fucking fuck! Such a whore, such a dirty girl for me! Oh my fucking g-god!" One last slam of his hips and his own body stilled, burying his cock deep inside your cunt to shoot his cum deep in your womb. He stuttered before his body collapsed on top of you, suffocating you in his sweaty muscles.

Bathing in the afterglow, coming down from your high you could've sworn you heard something. Mumbling, soft mumbling too indistinct to understand. Katsuki's head laying on your shoulder, his nose brushing along your collarbone and was he laying kisses here and there? No, you must've been seeing things. Still buried to the hilt he turned his head to speak, his fluffy ears perked and his tail gently swishing behind him. The sudden light from your phone illuminated the room, casting light on Katsuki's face and the sight made your breath hitch in your throat. Clearly he had been crying. Tear stains streaked down his cheeks, brows knitted together and the same lost look he had plastered on his face appeared again.

"Please, please don't kick me out. I'll do anything, please...please don't abandon me. Not again." His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as he hid his face in your neck. Voice breaking, shoulders trembling, the verge of crying all over again quickly approaching.

Your heart broke and you returned the favor by hugging him around the shoulders, a hand carding through his hair to soothe him. Had he been abandoned? Did his previous owners not like him? Was all his aggressiveness some kind of defense mechanism? Was he giving you a reason to kick him out to keep himself from experiencing that kind of pain again? Oh, poor baby. "Never again...just don't destroy things anymore, okay? Help me around the place a little more will ya?"

"Yes." Katsuki snuggled on top of you. Finally believing he had a real home with you, a place where he could belong. "....Master."

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo #inu bakugo #hybrid bakugo #hybrid au #bakugo katsuki x reader #x reader #tw:nsfw #tw:hybrid #tw:humping #tw:creampie #tw:collar #tw:choking #tw:naughty words #tw:name calling #tw:somnophilia

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m4r13l3y · 3 years

Text

Good boy // j.p

Smut, Dom!Reader, sub!james, subspace(?), aftercare, pegging

Not proofread, wrote in one sitting sorry if bad lol

You lined your strap-on against James.

He pathetically whimpered. curls covered in sweat and cheeks blotched from the hours you’d edged him until he begged enough for you to give him your cock.

“Please mommy!” He begged. Hazel eyes widening as he realized he shouldn’t have done that.

“Aw, thought I told you not to make a sound pretty boy” you murmured. Your hand delinquently stroked his cheek, feigning sympathy.

“sorry, mommy!” He whined. “I’ll be good mommy I promise ‘m sorry didn’t mean to!”

“But I have to punish you baby, you broke my rule”

Sitting on your calves, you started to jerk James off hastily, rubbing the precum from his swollen tip around him as lube.

Seeing his thighs quivering a small grin made its way onto your face, you were gonna make this boy pay for making noise.

His hand reached out towards you. “Can I hold your hand mommy please!”

“Okay” You held out your free palm to hold his. “So what did I say about making noise?”

“That you don’t l-like it!” James’ bucked his hips into your hand, his head reclining back into the pillows behind him. “Don’t fucking move or I won’t let you come at all.” You snarled, squeezing his hand as a warning.

He nodded slowly, legs continuing to tremble while you let go of his hand to grab onto his hips to insert yourself in him.

“Need your cock mommy please” He moaned loudly.

You slowly moved your hips into him as his hands reached out to yours. “Want me to hold your hand baby?”

“P-please mommy”

Linking your two palms with his you thrusted into him roughly. A loud moan emitting from the two of you as you felt the same pleasure from the enchantments you’d put on the strap earlier.

James gripped you tightly, pathetically moaning and whining as he was getting closer and closer to his release. He whined as he felt your hand leave his once more, alternating to lay a hand on his lower abdomen for stability.

“Please! I… I need to cum mommy, ‘m gonna be a good boy I promise!” James pleaded, gripping onto the mattress sheets for dear life, his knuckles turning white as he tried to prolong his orgasm until he had your permission.

You smiled to yourself, increasing the pace and roughness of your thrusts. The sound of skin slapping filled the empty dorm room.

“Hold it.” Was all you said as your loud thrusts overpowered James’ loud moans. “Mommy, please! Please mommy I need to!”

“Fine, go on, make a mess, whore” His hips sputtered as he bucked up and moaned loudly while releasing. Strings of ‘thank you mommy’ falling from his lips repeatedly while you slowed down your thrusts, staring at his fucked out body.

Cum falling onto his stomach while he rode out his high and legs twitching ever so slightly, his chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

“M gonna pull out okay baby?” You slowly backed up, pulling yourself away from him and unbuckling the strap from your waist.

James stared at you doe-eyed as you left it on top of the drawer beside the bed. “Am I your good boy mommy?”

“Of Course you are Jamie” you moved yourself to the left of him. Slowly grabbing a cloth and wetting it with a wand less spell.

“Sorry for whining mommy didn’t mean to” he shifted to lay right next to your waist, moving his hands to hold onto it tightly.

“S’okay pretty boy” you kissed his forehead, as his lips were far too low to reach. “Let me just clean you up alright? We can shower in the morning”

James’ grip tightened, burying his face into the space between your waist and his arm. “No. Wanna stay like this.”

You chuckled at his demeanor, running a hand through his slightly damp hair. “It’ll be quick Jamie. Just move up please”

“Fine.” He groaned, reluctantly moving upwards to lay down beneath you as the cloth you held did as you said. Clean him.

“Mommmyyy…” James rolled his head, waiting for you to finish. Wanting— no. Needing your attention.

“Can i just get our clothes and I’ll be right back okay?”

“No!” He whined into the pillow. “Want you with me right now”

Reaching his hands out he held a tight hold on your waist once more, assuring that you wouldn’t leave.

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle. “Jamie…”

“Please mommy, stay with me” he looked up to you with puppy dog eyes. Ones you could never say no too.

“Fine” you whispered, kissing his lips softly. With a wave of your hand, a pair of clothes for the two of you landed on the bed.

“Here”

Changing as quick as he could so he could feel your skin on his once more, James slipped his sweatpants on quickly as you settled for a simple band tee.

“You wanna go to sleep?”

“Wanna be with you” he shifted to your side, laying his head in your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Thank you for making me feel so good” James kissed your cheek. “I love you”

“I love you too, Jamie”

Taglist:

@wonderfilworld @emmaev @amarabln @side-blog-shit @pakukutta25 @cjholliday-blog @chronicwiggler @harry-styles-1800 @rjprofessorlupin @aayaissaa @kittykylax @ethernal-onism @kyleed24 @amourtentiaa @theweasleytwinsgirl @28cnn @xmalfoyweasleyx @goddessofmoonlightlove @jamespotterscumslut @rileybread @kayxoxkayxox @fives-cup-of-coffee @siriuslyslyslytherin @ronbrokemyheart @1800-shutup @imsiriuslyval @remugoodgirl @riverthemarauder @weasleytwinsfav @shadesofvelma @miss-starkov @watashi-wa-ode @lilypad-55449 @msmb @mnachopsis @i-cant-stfu @theincredibledeadlyviper @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @bikinibottomspeach @missesmaximoff

#James potter smut #James potter x reader smut #james potter fluff #james Potter x reader #James potter x reader fluff #Sub!james potter #Sub!james

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kirieshhhka003 · 3 years

Note

kakyoin as a partner?

A/n: this request is little bit vague so I decided to write this lil smut bc I’m feeling whoreny. Thank you for your request, my dear anon💚

Pairing: Kakyoin Noriaki x fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, deepthroating, face fucking

- Mmm... oh fuck babe... take it deeper. Mhah, yes just like that... - you hear Kakyoin’s muffled voice above. He is lounged on his bed, having you kneeled between his legs, sucking on his cock desperately

You look up at red-haired and see his blushed cheeks that almost match the red color of his hair. Noriaki nibbles on his fingers as his other hand is comfortably set atop your head, guiding you and controlling your moves

A lewed “smock” fills the space around you two as you dismiss Kakyoin’s stiff cock from the velvety heat of your mouth, stroking the shaft lovingly and leaving a sweet peck on his pink sensitive tip

Noriaki reclines his head against the wall behind his back, a heavy sigh slips past his lips and then turns into a wanton moan as you take a long wide lick of his dick, starting from the girth and following along all length, ending on his swollen head

Your nimble tongue hovers all over his inflated tip, you slowly take more and more of his dick inside of your mouth, that slowly that red-haired tightens his grip on your hair, applying some pressure to harshly slide you down his length. Your eyes water a little at the feeling of his dick bumping your throbbing throat, but you quickly forget about it and try to relax - god, you love it so much when Noriaki acts so dominant

Your mouth descents onto his shaft, and you feel his short pubes tickling against your nose, the musky scent of his groin makes you roll your eyes back in pleasure, a soft moan comes out of your throat, sending vibrations to Kakyoin’s cock, making him sequel and swirl under your touches

Kakyoin draws your head closer with little force, threading you on his dick, not letting you go for a few seconds, almost suffocating on himself. You pull back the second his grip on your head loosens, coughing and trying to catch your breath

- Shit, babe, I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold myself back. I’m sorry, - Kakyoin strokes your hair idly as he leans down and gives you a wet sloppy kiss, his fingers comb through your hair, rubbing the skin of your head fondly

- Nah I’m okay, - you say breathily and bump your forehead against his. You look him right in the eyes and with a mischievous smirk on your face add: - Do that again

A wide nasty grin plasters across Kakyoin’s handsome face as he grips on your hair harshly, shoving your head in his groin, ordering in cold tone:

- Take it all. Down your throat

In a matter of second he changed his mild and soft personality to completely different - mean and insolent, not caring about what you want. You feel a warm liquid running down your hip - you’re dripping wet from what a selfish dick Kakyoin is. You definitely love it

You clamp your lips around Noriaki’s throbbing cock, and the next moment he is balls deep inside, your throat clenches insatiably onto him. He pulls out and then pulls back in, burying his dick deep inside of you. Your jaw starts to ache as your tongue works red-haired’s dick with enthusiasm, but this slight pain only thrills you more

Kakyoin completely loses control over himself, starting to pound your face like a jack hammer. You can barely breath under his insane pace, thick saliva mixed with Noriaki’s pre-cum drips down your neck, covering your bare chest in this filthy liquid

By his loud fitful moans you can tell that Kakyoin is nearing his orgasm, his fingers grip tighter on your hair, as he starts to mercilessly fuck your face, destroying your throat. A few seconds later Noriaki pulls his slicked cock out of your mouth and, stroking it briskly, cums all over your face. You feel heavy globes of cums slowly run down your cheeks, you open your mouth wider, trying to catch every drop of his pearly sperm

You hear Noriaki humming quietly above you and he then bumps his overstimulated tip on your cheek, running it all over your face, smearing his sperm even more. You let out a disgruntled whine, trying to dodge away from this contact and look up at Kakyoin’s face, slightly furrowing your eyebrows

- Whaat? Don’t act like you don’t like it, you hoe, - Kakyoin bursts out laughing at his last words, and you just can’t be mad at him anymore. Red-haired looks so funny when tries to act like a cool bastard, you just snort and sit next to him on his bed

Kakyoin turns to your side, putting both of his hands on your hips, leaning in to whisper into your ear:

- We’re not done yet, darling. Now lay down on you back and spread you pretty legs wide, I’ll take a great care of you

Masterlist | Smut Masterlist

Please, leave comments. It really boosts me and inspires on making new writings!💚

#kakyoin #kakyoin noriaki #kakyoin x reader #kakyoin noriaki x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #jojo part 3 #jojo writing #jjba writing #jojo smut #jjba smut #kakyoin smut #kakyoin noriaki smut #stardust crew #stardust crusaders #thirst #jojo thirst #jjba thirst

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mentalpolaroids · 3 years

Note

hey if you’re still doing requests for blurbs can you do one for john b with 10 and 13. where he shotguns a beer to empress the reader and jj had shaken the beer before he gave it to john be just to mess with him and the reader won’t let go and makes fun of him. it’s just playful and sweet

The Party Trick

[gif creds @maddiecline]

Blurb request | 10. You just prepare yourself, baby + 13. I think it’s funny to see you all red and embarrassed

John B x female!Reader

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

Thank you lovely for sending in the request, I had a lot of fun writing this one! Hope you like it 🥰

It was her birthday, and for the first time in many years of celebrating her birthday with the absence of her parents, she didn’t feel sad or abandoned. Her parents spent more time on planes and private jets than at home, with her, and her birthdays weren’t an exception, something the girl had grown used to by then, the disappointment in her heart being gradually replaced with indifference. This year, for the first time ever, she was actually excited for the special day after deciding to take advantage of having the house to herself and throw her own birthday party and celebrate with her closest friends. Or only friends really. Being a Kook didn’t give you many options on what to do with that status: you either preached it and fit in, or you hated it and despised the stuck up mentally and the pointlessly expensive lifestyle. So, seeing that her closest and only friends were four always-in-trouble teenagers from the Cut, guess which one she chose.

Spending almost an hour in the basement digging through old decorations to try and give a nicer vibe to her backyard, she finally finished hanging some fairy lights over the trees by the pool. The soft music playing from the speaker and the nicely put table full of snacks and drinks made her smile in excitement for finally getting a chance of having a decent birthday, not the pity parties from previous years.

The doorbell ringing made her heart skip in excitement, which only increased when she opened the door and was greeted by four pairs of arms engulfing her in a heartwarming hug.

“Happy birthday you tiny bug!” John B said, being the last one to let go of the group hug.

“Thank you you annoying seagull!”

“Why a seagull?” he asked, chuckling.

“I don’t know, it was the first thing that came to mind.” she laughed along with the freckled Pogue.

She led her friends to the backyard, telling them to get comfortable on the reclining chairs by the pool as she handed each one a cocktail she had made earlier.

"Ooh, fancy." Pope commented, examining the colors and the decoration on the glass.

"It was my first time attempting to make these, hopefully it tastes as good as it looks." The girl replied, sitting on the chair next to John B's.

"Not bad," JJ said, after taking a sip of the drink, "but no offense, I think I'll stick to beer. This shit is way to Kook-y for my ego."

Kiara rolled her eyes at the blonde's words.

"It's really good (Y/N), you nailed it."

"I second that." John B added, winking at the girl beside him, who winked back and clicked her glass with his.

"Why thank you my dear friends."

After a few drinks, more specifically beer, the music was turned up and Kiara pulled the birthday girl to join in on her dancing, leaving the three boys to not so discreetly enjoy the show. Pope's eyes could be mistaken for heart shapes as he admired Kie move around with ease, elegance and a free spirit. John B didn't look much different, except his eyes couldn't leave (Y/N)'s figure swaying to the music while wearing a genuine smile that mirrored his own. That left JJ, who was hushly making fun of his friends for being so whipped but at the same time so stupid for not making a move on the girls.

"You two look really stupid right now, I hope you know that."

"Jealous you don't have anyone to look at, JJ?" John B asked, his eyes still on (Y/N).

"Nope. Got this lady right here." he answered, holding up his beer can, "You know what you two should do?"

"Not sure if I wanna know." Pope interrupted.

"You guys need to make a move, alright? How much longer do you plan on walking around with that embarrassing grin on your face every time you see them?" he pointed to the girls.

“I’m good, thanks.” John B replied.

“The fuck you are.” JJ grabbed another beer can, “Let’s start small, ok?”

“What does that even mean?” Pope asked, still reluctant about wanting to know what JJ's plan was.

“You gotta impress the lady, alright? Your ugly face won’t cut it.”

John B rolled his eyes at the insult but, as usual, didn’t pay much attention to his rambling.

“What do you want us to do, exactly?” Pope asked with uncertainty.

“Just go call them over here and then play along, ok?”

“This is gonna be stupid, I just know it.”

“A little faith, John B, alright?”

“No can do, buddy.” he answered as he got up to, for some reason, do as JJ said.

“You ladies up for another drink?”

“Sure!”

“Always!” Kiara and (Y/N) answered at the same time, following John B back to where JJ now stood on his feet with the beer can extended for John B to grab it. He raised his eyebrows questioningly at the blonde boy, not sure what to expect from him.

“My boy John here,” JJ rested his arm on John B’s shoulder and handed him the beer, “is gonna show us his party trick.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, you are. (Y/N), you should keep an eye on this one, alright?”

“Oh-kay.” she answered apprehensively, curious as to what was about to happen.

“You know what you have to do, man.” the blonde winked and took a few steps back.

John B knew what party trick his friend was referring to, he just didn’t expect for it to work on the “impress the lady” plan. He was sure (Y/N) had seen people down a beer in under 8 seconds, but decided to shrug it off, have fun and just go with it.

“So what is this famous party trick?” (Y/N) asked, eyes on John B.

“You just prepare yourself, baby.” he winked playfully, making her giggle.

His confidence soon vanished when he opened the can and the liquid inside flew straight to his face with no warning. He could feel drops of beer on his eyelashes making him almost scared of opening his eyes.

“Oh shit!” he heard (Y/N)’s voice, with a tone both shocked and concerned.

JJ’s laugh was almost as loud as the music still playing in the background, Kiara and Pope telling him to shut up but they couldn’t help but laugh too.

“JJ, if I were you, I would start running.” John B said after a while, his fingers rubbing his eyes so he could open them.

“Dude, your face!” the boy could barely talk from laughing so much.

“Yeah, your face, are you ok?” (Y/N) asked, stepping closer to John B, “I swear I saw that beer go straight up your nose?”

“Yeah, I kinda feel it.”

“Come on, “ she grabbed his hand, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

She led him to the kitchen and let him wash his face in the sink as she grabbed some paper towels for him to dry his face.

“That was quite a trick I must say.” she teased, seeing him close his eyes in embarrassment.

“That was the confirmation I needed to never, ever listen to JJ again.”

“What did he suggest this time for you to end up getting a shower of beer?” (Y/N) handed him the paper towels after he finished washing his face.

“It was stupid and it doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.” she smirked.

“Are you having fun with this?” John B pretended to be annoyed but he was actually enjoying the playful conversation, and enjoying even more the fact that they were standing a lot closer to each other now.

“Yeah, I think it’s funny to see you all red and embarrassed.” the girl reached her hand up to move a piece of his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Is it now?”

“Yeah.” they both pretty much whispered their words, they were close enough to hear each other's heartbeat at that point. With another playful smile, (Y/N) moved her hand to his jaw, a pointer very lightly caressing his bottom lip, “I think you still have a drop of beer right here.” she knew it was a lame thing to say, but it was fun being this flirty with John B. And even more when it was reciprocated.

“Really?” he asked, his voice still hushed, and she nodded, her eyes never leaving his, “Then you should do something about it.”

Not wasting anymore time, she leaned forward and finally sealed their lips together. The kiss was short, almost just a peck, seeing as she wasn’t done teasing. John B raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly, as if accepting the challenge.

“Uh oh,” he circled her waist with his arms and brought her even closer to his body, “I think I got beer on you. I should clean it, you know?”

She giggled, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“I think you should too.”

And with that, they kissed again, this time more passionately, silly grins still attempting to break their lips apart.

His hands couldn’t stay put in one place of her body, her curves making him lose himself in her and her fingers ran through his hair. She could feel some wet strands from the sticky drink but she didn’t care, too emerged in the adventurous but exciting boatride that was kissing John B Routledge.

“Ah, I knew it!” JJ’s voice echoed in the kitchen but it wasn’t enough to break the couple apart, “Yo, Pope, it worked, it’s your turn buddy!” he yelled, going back outside.

“Never gonna happen!” Pope fought back.

They finally broke apart a few inches, foreheads touching, eyes still closed and the greatest feeling in their veins by standing in each other’s embrace.

Guess John B could impress the lady after all.

#john b #john b routledge #outer banks #obx #john b x reader #john b x y/n #john b imagine #obx imagine #request #blurb request

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kissingchoso · 2 years

Text

𝐎𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐓. 𝐎𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 + 𝐇. 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Oikawa x Reader x Iwaizumi

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Oikawa is nothing but a menace to society. It’s up to Iwaizumi to teach his friend to stop playing with his food and simply get what he desires: you.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content, bisexual!iwa, raging bisexual!oikawa, friends with benefits, fingering, finger sucking, cucking, voyuerism, male masterbation, dom!iwa, horny!oikawa, reader is having the time of her life lmao

𝐀/𝐍: i haven’t written since fucking january holy shit. hi guys <3 have an old draft when i was in my oikawa and hajime brainrot! 🖤

Oikawa can hear the quiet moan that leaves your mouth despite the ridiculously loud volume on the tv. It happened between some loud explosions, your voice muddled in the sound effects but it was soft enough to the point where his well trained ears can pick it up.

He glances over to the couch where you were seated next to Hajime. The other man selfishly claimed the couch for just the two of you, casting Oikawa out onto the recliner all by his lonesome. While he was a bit jealous that Iwaizumi was hogging all of your space, he figures that this may not have been a bad idea.

From his spot, Oikawa could see the shared blanket on your lap shift a bit, Iwaizumu’s broad arm between your spread legs. It’s so fucking obvious but he knew better to think that this was planned. The subtle jerk of your thigh, shuffling closer to him, your head now on his shoulder. Face hidden in the sleeve of the plain black tee shirt he was wearing. Even the proud look on Iwa’s face was more than enough for him to get an idea on what was going on.

All three of you had been close since primary school. You’ve watched each other grow through all of the phases of life, no matter how awkward or embarrassing. Getting to see your friends live out their dreams while they consistently hyped you up to the point where your bond has transformed to something more….mature. In the past there had been jokes about sleeping amongst the friend group if there was a bad experience or even a nice pick me up, but never any serious advancements. That kind of talk was lost during sleepy facetime calls, wrapped loosely with the false promise from Tooru that “I’ll make you cum in less than five minutes, princess.”

How soon did that almost became your reality.

Recently, Oikawa and you had gotten drunk during a clubbing trip. He was visiting from Argentina and the two of you immediately sought out your favorite club while Iwa had prior obligations to attend to. It ended when you two were shamelessly making out right outside of the club while waiting for the responsible friend to come pick the two of you up. You’d learned then how amazing of a kisser your friend was. His tongue pushed yours in a dominance match while his hands were kneading every part of you they could find.

No matter how muddled the night was to you, you will never forget the coy smirk on Oikawa’s face when you two pulled away. Or the way you could feel his hardon press against your pelvis so obviously. He leaned down towards your height, whispering something you don’t even remember but you remember the brief kiss right beneath your ear. You even remember locking eyes with your other dear friend as he steps out of his car.

Ever since then, Oikawa seeks you out more. Sits next to you at restaurants, offers to drive as long as you’re in the passenger side, keeps his hands on some part of your body. Iwaizumi notices as he always does. Oikawa’s advancements were not subtle in the slightest. While he doesn’t care who his best friend chooses to sleep with, he was curious how much of a menace he could be when his new eye candy is being taken away from him.

A gentle shudder runs through your body when Iwa plunges his finger in deeper, which only widens the smug grin the man is wearing. Oh how he wishes he can read Tooru’s mind. Yet one glance to the recliner was enough indication.

Oikawa is fucking watching the scene unfold in front of his own eyes. No matter how you are silencing yourself, making these movements appear like little ticks, he so clearly knows. When the two of them lock eyes, Iwaizumi finds it appropriate to go further.

He slips in his ring finger along with the middle. It curls into you deliciously, hitting all of the sensitive spots hidden deep within your cunt. Oikawa breaks their little staring contest to look at your shaking body, trying your absolute best to remain quiet but you cant. It’s too much and your friends know it.

“Shaking like a leaf there, love. C’mere. You can sit on my lap,” Haijime tells you, pulling his fingers out of you carefully while his other hand adjusts the blanket over the two of you. Such an obedient thing you are, you even made sure to press your cute ass against the tent in his shorts.

“And you,” he starts, looking past your shoulder to the other person in the room. “Can sit there and watch until I say otherwise.”

“….H-Huh?” the reality of the situation finally dawned upon you. Looking over, you can see Tooru openly squeezing and fondling the front of his shorts.

There was no time for you to process how fast the night had been going. Iwa nudged the same two fingers he was fucking you with right into your mouth. There’s no need for words when your task was as clear as fucking day: suck. And so you do, swirling your tongue around his digits while hollowing your cheeks out from time to time.

“Your friend over there’s been very naughty Y/N,” Iwaizumi announces. “He been starin’ at you since the night you two kissed, touchin’ your ass while he swears it’s an accident. Little perv can’t straight up tell you what he wants, so I’ll have to show him how to do it.”

Your mind was swimming from all the admission. Of course you were completely aware by Oikawa’s shameless advancements. However, there was always a tiny voice in your head that forbade you from accepting it. He was still your friend at the end of the day. No matter how playful forwardness can be, you still didn’t want to jeopardize what the two of you had. Clearly Oikawa was thinking the same thing.

Such a shame it took Hajime to be the nudge the two of you needed.

Iwaizumi allowed your tongue to run over his fingers once more before slowly sliding them out of your mouth. He knocks off the blanket with the back of his hand, allowing your cunt to be exposed to the rest of the room. Your shorts were already nudged down to your mid thigh but of course there was no need for them now. You kicked them off the rest of the way before leaning back into the broadness of your friend’s chest.

Iwaizumi chuckles at your cuteness before returning his hand to its rightful spot: between your legs.

“Such a pretty cunt she got, huh Tooru?” Iwa asks aloud, using two of his wet fingers to spread open your cunt for a moment, dragging the calloused skin against the soft tissue of your cunt. The question is completely rhetorical because before Oikawa gets the thought of answering, he carries on.

“Y’know you talked a lot of big game in Argentina, really thought you were actually going to book a ticket and fuck her silly. Now look at you,” Iwa looks over your shoulder to see his depraved friend with his hand now in his shorts, openly jerking off the stiff peak between his own legs. Iwa only chuckles before giving his friend more material to jerk off to, stuffing two of his fingers right back into your cunt.

Your body shakes above his, a whimper of sorts leaving past your lips. “H-Haji!” You squeal, one of your hands holding onto his muscular forearm.

Oikawa watches as his friend’s fingers get lost in your cunt, filling in the space so much that he can make out the sight of clear liquid squelching out of the barely open spaces. It slides down the skin of your pussy and ass, eventually landing on Hajime’s gray shorts.

God, is he this disgusting? Being cucked by his two closest friends since childhood? Wanting to see Hajime fuck you up? Wanting Hajime to fuck him up? Wanting both of you to be forced on your knees, servicing your too stern friend? Wanting to fully lick every last drop of Hajime’s cum only to transfer the rest into your mouth?

His answer was responded with the sudden halt of his hands, already trying to not get himself to cum already. Instead, he tortures himself, looking up just in time to watch his best friend claim his other’s mouth in a heated kiss. Hajime’s fingers sped up to a new pace that now created an audible squelching noise. Forget the movie, Oikawa found a new interest.

And that is getting you absolutely fucked up.

#smut — !!#haikyuu smut #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haikyuu #oikawa x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #oikawa smut #oikawa scenarios #idk what else to put here #draft moment #i haven't written in so long please dont hurt me

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ladyfogg · 3 years

Text

Another Round

Fic Summary: You and Colin have been avoiding each other ever since the two of you were interrupted the other night. However, when Mare calls you to come to the bar to pick up Colin, you’re left with no choice but to deal with a very drunk Detective Zabel. Love Exists Masterpost. The Evans Fics Masterpost.

Fic Rating: Mature

Pairing: Colin Zabel/Female Reader

Warnings: Language, mild spoilers

All you want is a quiet evening at home.

The investigation into Erin’s death had shaken everyone to the core in Easttown, and you are no exception. In a place where everyone knows everyone, to have such a sudden and violent crime happen is enough to put the citizens on edge. You are feeling it and you sure as hell know Mare is feeling it. You’ve been doing everything in your power to be there for her and do what she needs but it’s hard since you’re not a full-blown detective. At least, not yet. You hope to be one day once you’ve had enough training and gone through all the proper channels.

For now, you’re content on being Mare’s trainee. Well, more like assistant but technically you’re a trainee. Actually, your exact title is Junior Detective but it makes you feel like you should be wearing a badge made of construction paper attached to your shirt by a safety pin. So you stick with trainee. Though that hasn’t stopped Mare from calling you ‘Junior’. Whether it’s to keep you at arm’s length or she just enjoys annoying the shit out of you, you’re not sure. You assume it’s a little of both.

Anyway, back to the quiet evening thing. You’ve been home for a few hours, settled into your tiny apartment with a slew of snacks and the latest crime docuseries on Netflix when your phone goes off.

You see it’s Mare and immediately pick up. “Hey, everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine.” You can barely hear her over the background nose. Tons of people are talking over each other with loud music thrown into the mix. “Sorry to call you so late but I need you to come down to the bar.”

“Do we have a lead?”

“Not exactly. It’s Zabel.”

Instantly your heart drops and you get to your feet, immediately scouring the floor for your discarded shoes. “Did something happen? Is Colin alright?”

In the background, you hear, “Heeeey, hey, Mare! Is that her? Are you calling her? Lemme talk to her.”

You hear her struggle for a moment before telling him to knock it off. “He’s fine. Just drunk as shit,” she says once she manages to get the phone back from him. “Can you come pick him up and take him home?”

“Oh, um…alright.”

“Is that a problem?”

“No. No, not at all.”

“I just figured since you two—”

“Oh we didn’t end up…we haven’t…” You stop yourself from going any further and embarrassing the both of you. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Ever since Mare interrupted you and Colin about to go at it in his hotel room, things have been more than a little awkward. Despite confessing how much you like each other, neither you nor he has made another move. Before it was spontaneous and a spur-of-the-moment decision, fueled by passion and excitement. By now, you have lost yourself in your own head and you get the sense he has too.

The two of you can’t even make eye contact without him quickly looking away and blushing. It’s adorable, yet incredibly frustrating to say the least. But the case is more important and you’ve been more than happy to forget about the embarrassing incident.

When you get to the bar, you’re faced with a vastly different Colin than you’re used to. The second you walk through the door, he calls your name excitedly and stumbles over, beer in hand.

“Oh my gosh you’re here,” he slurs, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Mare! MARE! She’s here!”

“Yeah, I know, Zabel, I called her.” Mare’s face is as stoic as ever, and yet you can still see the corners of her lips twitch up into an amused smile.

“You wanna shot?” he asks you. “Yeah! YEAH, let’s get shots! Imma get you a shot!”

“No, Colin, I’m good,” you say but he’s already stumbling away. “Colin? Colin! Oi, whatever. How long has he been like this?”

“Since I got here,” Mare says, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Sorry, I thought you two were…I mean, the other night…”

“Nothing happened,” you say. “Since, you know, you interrupted. Things have kind of been awkward and we haven’t really talked about it.”

“Well, he’s certainly in a talkative mood tonight,” Mare says as you both watch Colin flag down the bartender and loudly ask for two shots. “Just make sure he gets back to the hotel in one piece, alright?”

“Will do, boss.”

“Thanks, junior.”

“Ugh, you know I hate it when you call me that.”

She smirks, patting you on the shoulder as she walks by. “I know.”

You make your way through the crowd to the bar where Colin is currently leaning. “Come on, Colin. I’ll take you home,” you say.

“Not before you do a shot with me!” he insists.

“Can’t, I’m driving. Besides, I think you’ve had enough.”

“Come ooooonnnn,” he slurs, nudging you with his shoulder. “Just’the one lil one? Then I’ll go…scout’s honor!”

You can’t help but chuckle, not used to seeing him so carefree and silly. After a moment of contemplation, you ease yourself onto the nearby stool. “Fine. Just the one.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Colin exclaims, sitting next to you. “Shottttsss!”

The bartender slides two shots over and you make a subtle motion for him to cut Colin off. He gives you a nod of acknowledgment, slyly swiping Colin’s half-full beer bottle as he moves on to take care of someone else.

“Okay, okay, okay, we need a toast,” Colin says, handing you one of the shots.

“Oh really? To what?”

“Hmmmmm…” Colin’s face scrunches adorably as he tries to get his drunk mind to think. “How ‘bout to us?”

You raise your eyebrow. “Us?”

Colin leans in close, pressing his forehead to yours, his voice dropping low. “Us. You know, me an’ you.”

“Didn’t know there was a me and you.”

“Could be. Should be. We did almost…you know.” He leans in close to your ear and loudly whispers, “Have sex.”

“Yes, yes we did almost have sex.”

“So?” he gestures with his shot, spilling some in the process. “To us?”

“To us then.”

You clink your shot glass against his before knocking the drink back, trying to hold in a cough as the liquid burns your throat. “Dear god that’s strong.”

“YUP.” Colin slams his shot glass down on the countertop, then winces when he realizes what he did. “Oops. Is’okay. S’not broken.”

“And we’d like to keep it that way,” you say, sliding the glasses off to the side. “So, what you say I take you home?”

“Wait, wait, wait, not yet. Let’s talk.” He puts his hand on your arm to stop you from standing. “We need’a talk.”

“About?”

“I’m sorry about the other night,” he apologizes, head slumping on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to apologize, Colin. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But I did. I did. I should’a talked to you about it after but I chickened out.”

“Yeah, well, I could have talked to you too. I guess I also chickened out.”

“Here’sa thing. I jus’…you’re soooo beautiful and I get all tongue-tied around you and say stupid shit and I know you’re going to realize there’s someone better for you, and I just…”

Realizing he was way too far gone to be having such a serious conversation in the bar, you slide your arm around his waist. “Hey, hey, let’s talk about it later, okay? Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“Home’s too farrrr.”

“I meant your hotel room.”

“I don’t like it there. Take me to your place.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I won’t try anything. Swear. I jus’…I don’t wanna go back to my empty hotel room.”

Your heart aches at the puppy-dog eyes he gives you and you find yourself relenting. “Fine. But you’re sleeping on the sofa and I’m not cleaning it up if you get sick all over yourself.”

“Thas’fair.”

You help Colin settle his tab with the bartender and then you escort him out of the bar, your arm still around his waist. His arm goes around your shoulders again but it’s mostly so he can attempt to walk straight. Eventually, you are able to load him into your car before climbing behind the wheel. The shot didn’t do much of anything and with your place being so close, you know you’re okay to drive.

Colin reclines his seat back, shutting his eyes. As you make your way towards home, you’re sure he’s fallen asleep until you hear, “Y’know, y’er really pretty.”

You smile to yourself, keeping your eyes on the road. “Thanks, Colin. I think you’re pretty too.”

“Really???”

“Yes.”

“Ugh, I’m so stupid. Should’a called you for a date the day after all that happened.”

“It’s okay.”

“NO! No is’not. I ghosted you.”

“Colin, I don’t think it’s ghosting if the other person doesn’t reach out to you either.”

“It’s not?”

“Not really. Pretty sure that just ignoring each other.”

“Oh. Okay good. Well, not good we ignored each other. Good you didn’t think I ghosted you. Cuz I would NEVER do that to you.”

“Good to know.”

“And you won’t do that to me. I know you won’t. You’re too sweet. You wouldn’t break up with me two weeks before our wedding.”

Your heart sinks when he says this. Chancing a glance at him, you notice how sad his eyes are. Truth be told, you don’t know much about Colin, mostly because with the intensity of the case, the two of you haven’t had time to properly get to know each other. But his drunk words are way too specific to be a hypothetical scenario.

“Is that what happened to you?” you ask tentatively.

“Yup. Not sure how it happened. Or why. She just woke up and said, ‘hey, I’m not in love with you anymore’. And I’m like ‘s’ok, can I put my bagel down first?’…” he babbles, head rolling to the side so he can look at you. “Jus’ like that. Done. No more.”

You reach over to take his hand. “I’m sorry, Colin. That’s…that’s really shitty.”

“Isn’t it? I mean…I don’t know wha’ happened. But…whatareyou gonna do?” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to his lips so he can place a sloppy kiss on your knuckles. “We’ve been driving for a loooong time.”

“It’s been five minutes.”

“Really?!”

“Just close your eyes. We’ll be there soon.”

“M’kay.”

Not long after, you pull into your driveaway, letting go of his hand so you can park the car and shut it off. You sit there for a minute, admiring his side profile as he lays there with his eyes closed. He is a handsome man. You can stare at him all day. Every time he greets you with that wide smile, your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a little flip-flop thing.

He must feel you staring because he opens his eyes and gives you a crooked smile. “We there yet?”

You smile back. “Yeah, we’re here. Let’s get you inside.”

“Okaaay.”

With you guiding him and doing most of the work, you help Colin up the walkway to your place, pausing now and then when he sways and puts too much weight on you. Once inside, you dump him onto the couch before going back to lock your front door. Briefly, you pause to send Mare a text letting her know you’re both safe, before shutting your phone off and tossing it onto the counter. You shrug out of your coat and shoes before rejoining Colin in the living room where you left him.

“This is a nice place,” he says, sprawled out on the couch with his head nearly hanging off the armrest. “Looks homey.”

“If by homey you mean small, then yeah. It’s real homey. Come on. Sit up so we can get your coat off.”

“Tryin’a strip me down, you saucy minx,” he slurs, leaning forward as you try to pull the long coat off his arms. “I know your game and I accept.”

Laughing softly, you manage to wrestle him out of the coat before he flops backward. “No games tonight, Zabel.”

“Fine but at least a kiss?”

“That’s definitely not a good idea.”

“Jus’a lil one…come on, lil kiss…” he says in a soft voice, trying to lean in. “Jus’a peck. Lil smooch.”

Still laughing, you gently force him to lay back down. “Not while your drunk. Maybe in the morning if you’re feeling better we can have a little smooch.”

“Been thinking about kissin’ you for days,” he admits as you start to untie his shoes for him. “And picturing you on top of me. That was nice. I liked that. Let’s do that.”

You toss him a grin as you slide the shoe off his foot. “Like I said. Maybe…If you’re a good boy.”

His smile widens and he wags his eyebrows. “I’ll be’a good boy for you.”

After ridding him of his other shoe, you tuck a blanket around him. “Sleep it off, Colin. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t go,” he urges, grabbing your hand as you make a move to stand. “Not yet. Don’t go yet. It’s jus’…I wanna talk to you.”

“Okay. About what.”

“Everythin’. Anythin’. LIFE! Let’s talk about life.”

“It is way too late and you’re way too drunk to talk about life.”

“It’s just…the thing is…I’m getting to that age, right? I’m getting to that age where I’m starting to look at my life and I’m going…well, here’s what I thought it would be and…here’s what it actually is…” He throws his hands up with a sigh and a shrug, letting his thought hang there.

You’re all too familiar with that feeling. And yet, you have no idea how to respond. He’s not the only one looking at his life and wondering what the hell. There you are, living in the same town where you grew up, a detective in training living in a shitty, tiny apartment with neighbors who press their noses to the window every time you set outside. You haven’t had a relationship in years, mainly because you know every single guy in town and have grown up with them. The thought of dating and settling down with any of them does not appeal to you in the slightest. Never did. Not that that’s the only way to live your life but it’s something you would like to do someday. With the right person.

“Am I making any fucking sense?” he asks, more to himself than to you.

“Yeah, yeah, you are.” You reach up to lay a hand on his cheek. “Get some rest, okay. I’ll be just in the other room if you need me.”

“Mmm, okay. Rest sounds good. Sleep good.”

He rolls onto his side, taking your hand with him and almost pulling you across his body. You manage to wiggle free with a chuckle. By the time you get up to shut off the living room light, he’s already snoring.

You have too many questions and not enough answers. This man, this big hero detective that is supposed to help solve the case seems just as lost and alone as you feel. You wonder if that’s why you were drawn together. Two lost, lonely souls who found each other among such darkness.

Too tired to go down that train of thought, you slip away to your room, wondering just how much Colin will remember in the morning.

#colin zabel #evan peters #mare of easttown spoilers #love exists

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cas-kingdom · 3 years

Text

Blood of my Blood

A/N: Set during season 5, after Eric's failed attempt to leave the Authority. I wondered what might have happened had they chosen another way to 'convert' him into one of them. This story came from that idea. (Taken from my ff.net account, where I changed my OC’s name to reader).

Reader is about 17.

Title: Blood of My Blood

Summary: Eric's doing his best to conform to the rules of the AVL, but after you’re taken as food, and he's given the choice to either let you die or turn you into a vampire... he can do it no longer.

Words: 5066

For the less experienced, a blood bond might be difficult to handle. Not simply because you're feeling emotions and pain that doesn't belong to you, but because it's often hard to tell which is yours, and which is theirs.

However, over time, you learn to tell the difference. The more experienced may feel a sudden tug of something, exactly like what a tooth might feel on the end of a string, or a twinge of the heart, and they'll know it isn't theirs.

Eric Northman wasn't the type to start blood bonds with just anyone. He had one with Pam, because she was his progeny, and he had one with you, because you were his human, but that was as far as it went and as far as it would likely go.

In his thousand years, he'd also learnt how to tell the difference between Pam's and yours – mainly because one was vampire and barely heard from, whereas the other was human and had caused him more worry in the seventeen years the bond had been active than anyone had in the countless years before.

Therefore, when he felt a sharp tug at his dead heart as he sat in a recliner, staring aimlessly at the wall ahead while Nora preached the good word of dear Lilith, he knew who it belonged to. What he didn't know was why he was feeling it. Blood bonds didn't work in that a person's exact amount of pain or emotion was felt by the other – only a fraction of it, which increased as the bond grew stronger. So, for him to have felt it so strongly and so closely was worrying.

He didn't like to worry.

Shit, he barely knew how to worry half the time.

All these thoughts whirred haphazardly around his mind in less than two seconds, for the moment he felt that tug, his head snapped up and he vaulted himself from his chair.

The other thing about blood bonds was that, the more experienced, the easier it was to follow the bond to the other person. It was like following a tiny trail of sparkling dots laid out in front of you, leading you to where you needed to be most in that moment. A month-old bond may make you perceive these dots as faded specks ahead of you, barely there and always just out of reach, but a bond as old as yours and Eric's had strengthened these dots, and they were as clear for the latter to see now as the walls around him.

The dots weren't the only thing he was following, however. His ears easily picked up the sound of a scream that made his blood boil and his fangs shoot out before he'd even stopped running, and he lost sight of the dots as his vision turned red.

All this happened in the space of seconds. He had no idea why you were even in the same building when you should be at Fangtasia with Pam, but he was more concerned with discovering the reason for your scream and destroying the one who had caused it.

He was growling by the time he reached the room. Fists balled and fangs bared like a wild animal, he glared so hard he likely would have been able to bore holes wherever his eyes had landed.

That wherever was, of course, you, and his eyes widened at the sight of you. You were on a table – the table he had drained a man from just days ago – with members of the Authority hovering over you, fangs exposed, blood dripping from them. It took him a second to truly look at you and realise that you were being fed on. Puncture marks littered your neck and arms and legs… red was smeared across your skin and pooling on the table below. He could see tears glistening in your eyes and running down your cheeks. That was what made him angrier. That was what made him roar like a beast and storm forward, seizing someone – he didn't care who – and wrenching them from you.

That someone happened to be Steve Newlin, and he staggered backwards before stumbling and falling to the floor, staring up at him in both surprise and offence. "Mister Northman!" he said as though he were admonishing a child, right before Salome, daintily wiping trails of blood from her chin, ordered for the guards racing in after Eric to grab him.

"You fucking-" Eric found he didn't have time to finish his insult before four or so vampires had restrained him.

"Mister Northman." He snapped his head around to face Salome, who'd edged away from the table. For a brief moment, his eyes glanced to you, and he felt the rage swirl inside him yet again as he saw you weakly pull against your ties, your skin deathly pale where it wasn't coated in red. Already he could feel the bond between you flicker, as though the life force was slowly ebbing away.

He looked up as Salome continued. "What is the matter?"

"The matter," he snarled, "is that you are feeding on my human."

Salome looked genuinely shocked at that, and she turned, staring at you for a moment before casting a glance around at the other members of the Authority. A couple of them, Eric noticed with a low growl, were still standing dangerously close to you, their hands poised as though ready to attack again. They were all bloody, and he could smell even from where he was being held that the blood was yours.

It was then he saw him, standing a way off, arms crossed, but fangs bared all the same. He was staring at him, those dark eyes glittering with something he couldn't quite place, but he was there all the same, and Eric knew he hadn't come in after him.

His shoulders slackened in the way they do when you see something disappointing. Something you hadn't expected. And not in 'the Authority are feeding on my human' kind of unexpected. The kind where… you feel an almost physical drop in your stomach.

"You let them?" he asked quietly, before his anger rose at the lack of response he received. "You didn't try to stop them?" He pulled at the vampires holding him back.

Bill tilted his head slightly in the way Eric hated, and Salome pointed a finger at him. "That's why you didn't feed from her!" she announced, like she'd just worked out a puzzle.

"I am simply not hungry," Bill told her.

"If we're all quite done?" Eyes turned to Steve Newlin, who'd since pushed himself from the floor and rolled up his sleeves, presumably ready to eat once more. "I hadn't finished my meal."

A barely audibly whimper coming from you was all it took for Eric to break free from those holding him back. He flew at Steve, knocking him to the ground once more and hovering over him, both hands wrapped around his neck. "Your meal is over," he growled, "as is your life!"

"Hey, now! That's not very nice of you!"

Eric paused. He was still glaring into the terrified eyes of Steve Newlin, hands clasped around him, but that voice stopped him. It had always and would always stop him. Unless he was under the ground, encased in thick cement and unable to speak a word.

Even as he felt Russell's presence behind him, he continued to glare. He would have liked to rip the baby vampire's throat from the rest of him. The only thing stopping him from doing so was you on the table.

"Feeding on my human wasn't very nice, either," Eric said, jaw clenched.

He heard Russell tut and move to the table, and for that reason he turned his head to watch. The older vampire stopped at your head, looking down at you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, turning as far away from him as possible. He smiled in an eerily sad way, brushing a strand of hair, crusted with dry blood, away from your face, before looking at Steve. "Stevie, darling," he said expectantly, "what is this?"

Eric reluctantly let the bastard get to his feet. He wiped himself down, narrowing his eyes at Eric yet not at all appearing intimidating. "I thought our old friend here needed a bit of coercion, Russell, honey," he said, and Russell tutted again, releasing a short sigh and shaking his head.

"We aren't forcing him to see Lillith," he told Steve, gently clapping him on the shoulders, "we're showing him. He has to find his own way." He dipped his head slightly, and Steve, after a moment of twisting his head uncannily, nodded resignedly, reaching up to wipe residual blood from his lips.

"You're right," he relented, "as always."

Russell smiled before moving from Steve and turning to face Eric, who had not moved. He was staring at Steve, likely still refraining from finishing his previous attack. All he wanted was to take you from that table and bring you somewhere no harm would come to you, and he would have done exactly that had the Authority not still been standing around your table, fangs extended and hands bracing against the oak wood, ready to snap your head at the first order, be it from Russell or anyone else who had more power than him.

"My apologies, Mister Northman," Steve said, not at all apologetically, and Eric didn't try to act as though he'd accepted it or even acknowledged the vampire. Instead, he turned towards Russell, lifting his chin the slightest bit.

"May I take her from the table?" he asked, despising the fact he even had to ask.

He should have expected it, really, but for some stupid reason he had thought that Russell might actually comply with his wishes. Instead, the three thousand-year-old creature slowly rose both eyebrows and regarded him with a contemplative look.

"For what purpose? To give her a proper funeral?" He chuckled darkly. "At least wait until she's dead, first!" The vampires around him joined in his obvious amusement, and Eric found himself swallowing back words and actions that would most definitely have resulted in his demise.

Instead, he blinked, a fleeting and forced smile pulling at his lips. "I wish to heal her. You've had your fun, now, please, return her to me."

Steve choked on a laugh, bringing his fist up to his mouth. Childish, Eric thought to himself.

"Oh, Mister Northman," Russell said. He stepped forward and grasped Eric's arms. "She has to die."

And Eric's fangs shot out, like a viper striking for a mouse, and his hand reached for his neck. Russell grabbed it before it could touch him, holding his wrist in a vice-like grip mere inches from his face. His own fangs had extended at some point, though Eric couldn't remember when, and he remained stone still and silent, not in the least bit perturbed.

Eric, on the other hand, was snarling like a rabid animal. "You know she is mine." His voice was deep and low, hostility dripping from it like poison.

Russell shook his head. "Put the fangs away, darling."

"Likewise, darling."

Tension hung from a thread. It could practically be heard. Even you were holding your breath, staring blearily at Eric as much as you could from your position. All it took was for Salome to move her head, and Russell attacked.

Vampire fights never lasted long. Perhaps they would have, had they been any slower, but these kinds of things were so fast they were a blur. All that could be heard was the whir as they passed, and the snarls and the growls and the shouts and the curses…

And you felt it all through the bond. You were weak, and black spots were already clouding your vision, but, even through the life fading from you, you felt each time Russell hurt Eric, and you knew that your guardian wasn't going to last much longer. With anyone else, yes, but this was Russell Edgington, and he was Eric's senior. Two thousand years his senior. And he was better.

Your head was pounding, and you felt so weak you could barely lift your arms, but this was important.

You felt a particularly sharp stab in your shoulder, and at Eric's loud growl of pain, your eyes blurred with tears. You tried to speak – to say even one word – but every sound your throat made felt like razors were digging into the tissue, grating against you each time you tried. You swallowed back the pain, squeezing your eyes shut, and took as deep a breath as your poor lungs would allow you.

"Stop!" Your voice was hoarse, but it stopped Eric immediately. He paused, eyes wide, fangs still bared but not in use, and snapped his head around to look at the table. It gave Russell the perfect opportunity to throw him against the wall, holding him there with one strong hand clasped around his throat, lifting him from the ground.

Your heart spiked. "No, p-please!" you called out again, as loud as you could manage. "Don't hurt him! You can- you can drink from me! You can kill me! Just… please don't hurt him." And you slackened completely, the effort of those few words straining you immensely.

"Y/N!" Eric yelled, in a tone you have listened to before anything else on any other day. It was a tone full of warning and threat, a tone he rarely ever used with you, but it was woven with something deeper, too. A sort of pleading that was seldom heard from him. And you knew it was for you. You knew that, despite the terrifying warning, he was still begging you, willing you to say no more.

Salome, who'd idly been fiddling with her nails while Eric and Russell fought, blinked, a look of surprise washing over her face. "Sentiment for the vampire who's kept you as his pet for the entirety of your life?" she asked, clearly surprised and intrigued.

Russell shook his head, speaking to Salome yet keeping both eyes fixed on Eric. "Oh, no, no, my dear. I've seen young Y/N here with our Eric before. He cares for her, alright. Might even love her. If he, you know, had a heart!" Laughter sounded around the room yet again, and you felt the stings of your tears as they fell from your eyes. "But the sentiment is endearing, I must admit," he continued, giving Eric a lopsided grin.

Eric shook his head. He leaned forward as much as he could and lowered his voice. "You'll kill her if she loses any more blood."

"Ah! Will I? Is that what happens? I hadn't noticed."

It was at this moment Bill stepped forward, extending an arm as though in reasoning. "Russell, please-" he tried, but Russell snapped his head around and pointed a finger at him. Bill quietened immediately, ducking his head and stepping back.

Eric could have killed him. The one chance – the one person Russell might have listened to…

That desperate anger swirled in his gut again as Bill briefly lifted his eyes and the two made contact for the smallest of moments, right before Eric turned his gaze back to the vampire in front of him.

"Let me give her my blood," he said again, more pronounced this time, and Russell contorted his face in the way one might after being told something incomprehensible by a child.

He let Eric's feet touch the floor, loosening his grip around his neck the slightest bit. "Mister Northman, you understand our mission here, yes?"

"Of course."

Steve stepped forward, throwing his hands about like an over excited child. "Then, why? We could have one less human in this Lilith-praised world, and you want to heal her! Use our sacred blood to restore the life of a- a meat-sack!"

Eric's glare could not have been any darker. He turned so slowly to meet the baby vampire's gaze and then let his eyes do the boring. Steve visibly gulped but remained otherwise composed – with great effort, no doubt. Nevertheless, as Eric looked back to Russell, he saw that he, too, was willing to hear the answer to this.

He dropped his eyes, for a moment both hearing and seeing nothing.

He remembered back to the day he'd found you, crying in a cot in the only building that had not been demolished by the fire. He couldn't even remember what he'd been doing in Norway… but he'd found you, and he'd picked you up, and he'd taken you back with him to Sweden, and then to Louisiana, more than once thinking about the fact that you were human and he was vampire, but never once caring what others thought of him.

He'd taken you with the intention of raising you to be his human… for you to grow up loyal to him and only him, and undertake as a human what he couldn't as a vampire. Then, of course, when you were ready, he would turn you and make you his progeny. Nevertheless, somewhere along the way in the seventeen years he'd had you, he'd acquired a lot more emotions than he'd bargained for.

A quiet groan reached his ears and he mentally shook himself from his slight stupor, instinctually looking over to the table. A member of the Authority – he couldn't remember his name and he didn't care to – was dangerously close to you, a sly grin on his lips as he stared down at you, and he felt himself snarling before he even noticed Russell's hand tightening. "Answer the question, Eric," he said, sweetly.

And Eric, tired of keeping his true emotions at bay, snapped his head to face Russell and leaned as far forward as he could. "You fucking know why, Russell Edgington!" he spat. "She is important to me! Far more important than you could ever begin to understand!"

His jaw was clenched, and his fists were no different. If he had a functioning heart, no doubt his face would be dark red from the long-awaited rush of blood, and the vein in his forehead would be throbbing relentlessly. His blue eyes had almost darkened to that of the sea on the stormiest of days. Russell was afraid of very little, and he would never admit it, but the tiniest flicker of humanity that still remained within him felt a ripple of a shiver run down its spine at the sight of the livid vampire in front of him.

He waited a moment, feeling the tightened muscles beneath his hands. "And yet she's human," he said a moment later. "She should mean as little to you as the dirt on your shoe."

Something seemed to hit him at that moment, because he stopped and tilted his head supposedly subconsciously. "Unless…" he wondered absently. Salome and Bill silently glanced at each other behind him. Then, as unnerving as anything, Russell lifted his head and gave Eric a look. "Turn her."

If he had a beating heart, it would have stopped. He could feel a sudden tightness but knew it to be yours. "What?" he asked, not willing to believe he even wished to know the answer.

Russell released his neck, and he slackened, bringing a hand up to rub at it. Still, he watched, as the older vampire stepped back, throwing his arms out to the side as though he were beholding something absolutely magnificent. "Turn her into one of us!" he called out loudly. The corners of Salome's lips turned upwards into an excited grin as she turned to look at Bill, whose face was almost as indescribable as the horrific paintings on the wall.

Eric averted his eyes to Russell as he continued. "Then she will be worthy of your love."

He didn't consider it even once. "No," he said.

Russell rolled his eyes and let loose a noise somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. "Oh, come on! Don't tell me you were going to keep her human forever!"

That had never been his intention, and he knew it well, but if he turned you now, you would forever remain a seventeen-year-old girl, oblivious to most of the world, unwise to the tribulations and trials of the vampire life that you would be forced to endure. Yes, you had lived with vampires for the entirety of your life, but you had been a human throughout that time. No human could ever begin to understand what life was like for a vampire, which was why he had intended to teach you. To prepare you before he turned you, so you’d know what to expect and the process would not weigh so heavily on you…

"No," he insisted again, firmly shaking his head. "No, she is too young. She's not ready-"

"It is that, Mister Northman, or she dies, here on this table," Salome stepped in, slowly walking towards him.

"Like a wilting flower in the shade!" Russell dramatised, and Steve giggled irritatingly, ducking his head to whisper a "that was a nice one, honey" in Russell's ear.

Eric, for once, was at a loss to do. He lifted his eyes to look at you. Even from where he was standing, he could see the several puncture marks in your skin… your neck, legs, arms… they were all open still, blood streaming from most and dripping from some… either way you were bleeding to death, and he could feel it plainly. Your skin was almost white, and you were clearly struggling to remain awake, eyes flickering like a wavering candle.

On any other day… with any other vampires… he would have ripped the heads from them as easily as though he were walking. He thought this with slowly tightening fists, and an ever-tensing jaw.

And yet, this was not any other day, and he was not with any other vampires. This day, his human, his little girl, was tied to a table, half dead already. These vampires, were members of the Authority, the majority of them older than him, and among them was Russell Edgington.

He had a choice to make. And he didn't like to be forced to make choices. Especially ones like these.

He could attempt a lousy rescue, and risk both his and your lives in the process… or he could do as he was asked. You would still have some semblance of a life, and maybe one day, you would learn to forgive him.

"Ah, well, there's not much of it left, but looks like dinner's back on the menu!" Russell cried excitedly, and Eric's eyes widened subconsciously. He lunged forward and grabbed the older vampire's arm as he turned towards the table.

"No! I will turn her!" he shouted, urgency ripe in his tone. The room fell silent, Russell raising an eyebrow expectantly, before Eric blinked and straightened, voice lowering as his head did. "I'll turn her," he said, resigned. "I'll- I'll do it."

He saw you in the corner of his eye. You had turned you head, sickly narrowed eyes staring at him, and though the rest of your face was too weary to hold any kind of expression, he could feel the confusion. The desperation. The fear. And, damn him, he looked away. Back to Russell.

The beast turned to the side, holding out an arm towards the table as though he were inviting him. The look on his face was that of someone who believed they were doing another a favour, and Eric wished nothing more than to punch the sly smirk from his face. But he kept going, one foot in front of the other, until he reached you. He quickly untied the ropes binding your ankles and wrists, all the while keeping both eyes on your own to ensure you remained awake, and when you were free of the wretched things, he moved to pick you up.

He'd picked you up many times. As a baby, when you’d only ever settle and cease your crying if you were in his arms. As a child, when you’d scraped your knees on the ground and ran to him for comfort. And as a teenager, now, not only when he'd carry you while he ran or flew, but when you awoke from a nightmare, or became stressed for any reason, or simply, when you were together and alone, wished to feel someone's arms around you.

His left arm went instinctively under your neck, cradling it, as his right looped under your knees. He lifted you, slowing and almost stopping when you whimpered in pain, before you were securely in his arms.

He turned, staring emotionlessly at Russell, who did not move until Bill stepped forward.

"At least give him space," he said, and Eric was grateful for that at least, despite the residual and new-found – perhaps resurrected – hatred he felt for him. Russell put both hands up in surrender as he stepped backwards before rubbing them together, as though he were about to watch something divinely satisfying. Doubtlessly, that was indeed the case, Eric thought to himself as he walked past them all and to a corner of the room. He turned his back on everyone and gently lowered himself to the ground, keeping his hold on you as gingerly as he could.

He knelt down, your head lying on his arm while the rest of you lay weakly in front of him. He was doing his absolute best to keep you comfortable.

If this were being done years later, he would have done it where you wished for him to do it. On a blanket, perhaps, with some pillows. Or at least a towel to attempt to block the coldness of the floor seeping through your clothes and into your already shivering skin.

But you didn't seem to care about such things at the moment. He could tell your main priority was keeping your eyes open as they blinked against the light steaming from the lamps and bulbs ahead and swallowing back the bile and the vomit rising to your throat.

He let his eyes wander for a moment, feeling a rare panic inside him that, for once, did belong to him. He glanced over the bites, wishing with all his might for the ground to suddenly swallow up each and every vampire in this room so he could set to healing you with his blood...

But apparently someone out there hated him enough to make that an impossibility. You were dying. And if he didn't turn you now, you would not return from that death.

The thumb of the hand holding your head rubbed absently at your temple, and his free hand gently snagged yours. Even through his own cold skin he could feel the feverish chill of your own, and it sickened him.

He shut his eyes and tried to imagine himself and you in a room, alone, without the ten or so vampires around you watching with beady eyes to ensure he did his job correctly.

Slowly, he leaned down until his forehead was touching yours. You opened your bloodshot eyes and stared into the blues of his. He hoped you found the comfort there that you so obviously needed.

"Hurts," you managed to rasp out, the words leaving your dry lips nothing more than hoarse whispers.

He squeezed your hand and nodded faintly. "I know," he whispered, "I know. But it'll all feel better, soon."

You blinked drearily, and your eyes seemed to dim. "Are you gon-gonna turn m-me?"

He sighed, wishing he could relieve the frustration he felt on a wall. Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again, quiet and soft, perhaps quiet and soft enough that the words would reach nobody's ears but your own.

"It is the only way," he told you assuredly. "You remember when we talked about the process of turning a human to a vampire? Hm?"

You bobbed your head as well as you could manage.

"Just an odd feeling," he murmured, "just a pierce of the skin, and an odd feeling inside. You will wake under the ground, but I will be there with you. I will not leave you until your eyes open, and I promise you the first thing they see will be me."

He tried to ignore the tear that squeezed from a corner of your eye. The hand by your head reached down momentarily to wipe it away, and he offered you a warm smile, forcing it on his lips if only to soothe you.

"Do you trust me?" he asked you, and there was no hesitation as you nodded once more.

Eric drew in a deep breath, his empty lungs not needing it in the slightest but feeling the smallest bit better for doing so. Then, he situated himself, wasting one more glance behind him to see the vampires standing a way off, chatting amongst themselves, clearly voicing their excitement at bringing another of their kind into the world. Bill stood in front of them, and Eric saw pain on his face as they locked eyes. Good. He felt it.

And… he hadn't noticed Nora come in, but she was there, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed, looking at him with some sort of vampiric sadness on her face. He wondered if it was because she disliked seeing him be forced to do such a thing… or if she was disappointed he was not willing to do so…

He turned back around and shifted slightly.

"Fortsätt hålla i min hand, älskling," he whispered, hoping the Swedish would calm you. It seemed to work. He felt the tension leave your neck as you shut your eyes, tears running from beneath them and mingling with the blood, streaking red down your pallid skin. "Andas djupt och långsamt," he continued. "Försök att koppla av. Tänk på solen."

His fangs shot out and he shut his eyes. "Forgive me," he muttered, before swiftly ducking his head.

As a soft whimper escaped from your throat, Russell stood on his tiptoes, clearly trying to see over Eric's hunched shoulder. Once he was sure he was doing his job, a huge grin overcame his lips, and he clapped his hands.

"Excellent!" he called out, swivelling around and facing the rest of the Authority. "Now, somebody go dig a fucking hole."

True Blood Masterpost

Swedish translation (I'm counting on you, google translate! XD)

Fortsätt hålla i min hand, älskling. Andas djupt och långsamt. Försök att koppla av. Tänk på solen = Keep holding my hand, sweetheart. Breathe deeply and slowly. Try to relax. Think of the sun.

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