#anyway after this i promise i will watch a show that is actually worth my time i'm probably gonna stop after like. s6.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

A Danish Werewolf in The City

The First Taste - final chapter.

Note: the last chapter has arrived. Thank you to those who have been devouring (haha) this fic, it's been entirely my pleasure! Once again thank you to @foxyanon for helping me out as I attempted my first monster fucking smut. I hope it was worth the wait...

previous chapters: part 1 - part 2 - part 3.1 - part 3.2

Pairing: werewolf!Sihtric x you (f)

Warnings: 18+, horror fic. Smut, monster fucking, and hey, what's a werewolf without some fluff?

Wordcount: 3,6k

Masterlist

The Moon was full, glowing orange as she peeked through the trees and your half open window. The cool breeze ruffled faintly through Sihtric's dark hair as he towered over you, with his mismatched eyes fixated on your being and his pearly white fangs exposed in a snarl. He had climbed in through your bedroom window, again, leaving claw marks on the walls and ripping your curtains to shreds by accident… again.

Sihtric stared down at you, with parts of ripped clothes dangling from his black fur, thick strings of drool dripping out his parted lips while a low growl began to sound from the back of his throat. It was a frightening sight; those big hairy and pointy ears twitching at sounds you couldn't even hear, and his long whiskers moving along with his glistening nose as he inhaled your scent deeply. His big and feral eyes were fixated on you while you were scarcely dressed and sat upon your bed, as you had half expected him to appear.

You watched him shift smoothly, showing you his human traits while he was still larger than any human could possibly be. Dark hair covered his incredibly muscular body, while his now human shaped ears were still pointy, and his human hands were large and hairy with long nails shaped like claws. He was a beast and yet still a man. A man you loved and a beast you desired.

And when you leaned back on your elbows, slowly spreading your legs for him and teasingly pulling up your nightgown to reveal you weren't wearing any panties, the wolf-man dragged the tip of his large tongue across his sharp teeth, like a hungry beast…

The day after you had met Sihtric at the pub he called you to confess what he had been doing during those months you weren't together. Your silence on the other side of the line was deafening to him once he had told you everything; from hunting and killing dozens of vampires to him lurking around your house at night, he didn't shy away from the truth anymore.

'I knew you were there,' you answered, 'I know I heard you outside my window some nights, hoping to see you again. But I never saw you…'

The relief Sihtric felt when you told him his behaviour was more or less understandable was a feeling he never thought he'd experience. A weight fell off his shoulders and it seemed as if he could breathe freely again. He promised he was done hunting vampires, as most of them had actually been slaughtered by him anyway, and he invited you to stop by his place the next day, so he could show you he was really not that same beast anymore as he had allowed himself to be when he was grieving the abruptly ended relationship.

You met Sihtric while he was fixing up his shed the next afternoon. And what should have been harrowing to see, the knock-off electric chair with the metal chains attached to it to restrain him, wasn't quite as daunting as you had pictured when he told you about his enclosure on the phone. Surely it wasn't normal to have this in your backyard, but you weren't freaked out by it like you would have been several months ago, after your research you simply understood him and appreciated the fact he did everything he could to keep himself and others safe. 

Sihtric explained the restraining process to you as he attached a few brand new chains to the ceiling, and you helped clean up the place once he was done. Light touches lingered and you were both quietly tormented by butterflies each time you looked at each other, you just didn't know how to proceed after everything that had happened. And Sihtric, being the monstrous werewolf that he was, was also as shy as a human man could possibly be, so you knew it was up to you to make the first move if you wanted to see where this could lead to.

'So,' you cleared your throat as you were ready to depart, embraced in a hug, 'you're not asking me to stay for dinner?' you half joked.

'I would,' Sihtric chuckled nervously as he looked at you, 'except, I'm having the guys from my pack over tonight, and we're eating wild rabbits. Store bought,' he added quickly, 'but I know you like your fluffy bunnies, so I wouldn't… you know, do that to you.'

'You really are a monster,' you laughed and shook your head, 'a human monster.'

'A human monster is still a monster,' Sihtric smiled faintly, and he slowly drew his lower lip between his teeth as he looked down into your eyes, arms still around you, 'but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? I have all day since I'm still on temporary leave, I just need to be home by nine in the evening.'

'Nine in the evening?' you snorted, 'you're not on house arrest are you?' you jested and checked his ankle for a monitor, to which he laughed and rolled his eyes.

'No, I'm not on house arrest. The full Moon,' Sihtric hinted, earning a soft chuckle from you that set his heart ablaze so easily.

'Of course. I'm sorry, how could I forget. We can meet up tomorrow. And,' you smirked, 'since I helped you with your shed-'

'Helped me with my shed?' Sihtric raised his eyebrow, 'you just watched how I fixed it up and you only helped by swiping a corner, and even barely!'

'Barely help is still help,' you shrugged, 'however, maybe you could help me with fixing up the paint you scratched at? I mean, not to be rude, but that clearly was your doing, so…'

'Yeah, yeah,' he laughed, knowing very well what he had done, 'sure, I'll help you out with that.'

He kissed your cheek before you left, and you both fought the urge to overwhelm each other with text messages throughout the night as you spent it apart.

And Sihtric was as loyal as a pup, stopping by the next afternoon to help paint the outside of your house, as promised, thus covering up the claw marks he had left which looked like the strangest kind of damage to any other person. After you had rekindled over the past few days, Sihtric was feeling more confident again, and you began to see glimpses of the playful man he was before you had witnessed those horrors in the woods. Once again touches and smiles lingered, while you bestowed each other with bad jokes and flirty remarks throughout the day as you painted your house.

You both felt a weird sense of relief once it was covered, and stood next to each other as you looked at the result while the paint dried. It was already getting late when you were gathering the tools left scattered on your lawn, and Sihtric suddenly circled his arm around you, pulling you flush against him before you could even blink.

'You know,' he smiled and took your chin with his tattooed fingers, 'a pretty lady like you shouldn't let a foul creature of the night just climb through her window and into the bedroom. Do you even know what sort of monsters are out there?'

'Oh,' you chuckled as you played along, 'I appreciate your concern, kind sir, and I'll definitely keep it in mind.'

'You better,' Sihtric said with a smirk and winked. 

Which was the reason for you to drop everything you held in your arms. You grabbed his face, cupping his cheek with one hand whilst the other moved up into his dark curls as your lips crashed together in a long awaited heated kiss. A kiss that had been held off for far too long now, a kiss you had both been desperate for. You lost yourself in each other's taste and scent and touch while you stood there, fully embraced in the early dusk, and it didn't take long before you started to tug at each other's close and ended up stumbling over, landing on the grass beneath your feet, on top of Sihtric, and you kissed until your lungs burned and begged for air.

'Will you stay the night?' you breathed against his lips as he held you tightly pressed against his strong body.

'I shouldn't,' Sihtric murmured and kissed you greedily again, 'I want to, darling, I really do. But… the Moon,' he said with a hint of sadness, 'it changes me and it's the only night I can't stop it.'

'I know,' you sighed and rested your forehead on his chest, before you looked up at him again, 'but… you know, if you change your mind,' you hinted with a sly smile.

Sihtric laughed, 'Surely you don't want a werewolf in your bed.'

'Hm… maybe I do,' you shrugged, finally speaking your newfound curiosity out loud.

Sihtric chuckled but his face became serious once he understood you weren't joking around. He had sensed the change in you, but he was cautious as he was still more than terrified to lose you once more, now that he had earned you back in his arms again.

'Are you for real? You'd… you'd want to…'

'What if I would?'

'Well,' Sihtric scoffed and smiled lightly as he looked a little puzzled, 'there's no, you know… I mean, hey, I'm not against it, but there are no werewolf sized condoms. And I'm sure in all your research you've read about werewolf pregnancy, and that for a human it's-'

'Lethal,' you finished his sentence, 'yes, I'm aware of that. But,' you smiled as you seductively ran your hand down his chest, 'you forget that I'm on birth control. And I've read that your… load is still human-like, even when shifted. So it would be safe.'

'Huh,' Sihtric scoffed and then laughed, as he had never really thought about that. But he knew you were right. 'Okay, but… are you not repulsed by my werewolf form?' he asked cautiously, still worried you'd be frightened by his appearance once again.

'Your werewolf form is freaky, for sure,' you admitted, 'but your wolf-man form is kinda… eh, sexy. I mean, you're not a full wolf when you shift into a wolf-man. There are mainly human traits I can see then, and you can still talk as a human too. But when you fully shift there's no trace of you anymore as you're just a black wolf, with only your eyes betraying you. And your full wolf form makes me feel safe, I remember you made me feel safe that night. But… as a werewolf, well, more as a wolf-man,' you shrugged with a shy smile, 'I think you might have awoken something in me I didn't realise at first.'

'And… you think you could handle me at my werewolf?' he asked with a cocky smile.

'I think I could handle you at your wolf-man,' you grinned.

Sihtric opened his mouth to speak, but his phone suddenly rang and interrupted the pleasantly tense moment. He sighed as he switched off the alarm he had set, and he apologised that he really had to leave, for it was getting late.

'I should head back home now, the moon will rise soon,' he whispered and kissed your lips, 'I'm sorry, baby.'

'I know,' you murmured, 'just be safe, darling.'

'I will be, I promise,' Sihtric smiled and kissed your cheek, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Or tonight,' you taunted, 'if, you know, you'd want to…'

'Okay, little red riding hood,' Sihtric laughed as he walked off your lawn, 'hey,' he then said as he turned to face you again, 'don't go out tonight, okay? It's not safe.'

'I know,' you agreed and ran over for one last hug, 'are you sure you can't stay?'

'Don't tempt me.'

You smiled, then kissed him and bit his lower lip softly before you took a step back while he held your hands.

'I said don't tempt me,' Sihtric flashed a mischievous smile, 'because you don't know what you're in for.'

For a while, Sihtric wasn't sure if he'd act on your suggestion to stop by when the Moon was full that night. He was more than hungry to explore your newfound desires and curiosity to his beast-like form, but the fear of frightening you away from him once again weighed heavy on his mind. He considered restraining himself, as planned, in an attempt to restore the balance inside of him, but his urge to be with you grew stronger with each passing second as the Moon crept up in the sky. And his animalistic behaviour took full control before the Moon was even at its peak. 

He shifted as he was unchained inside his shed, ripping out of his clothes while snapping out of his skin to transform into his hauntingly huge werewolf form. His beastly desires guided him, and he soon made his way to your house, running through the night on all fours with an inhumanly fast pace. He snarled while his mouth watered at the thought of tasting you again, and his loud howl sounded eerily through the night as if it was rutting season already once he reached your residence. He caught the scent of your arousal as he stalked around your property, and it drove him mad with lust while he made sure you were alone.

Parts of his torn clothes still dangled in his fur as he climbed his way up to your windowsill, his claws shredding your new curtains as he snuck inside your room. You stared at Sihtric as his werewolf form towered over you, and soon he shifted in front of your eyes. A shift that took all of Sihtric's strength, as the full Moon always made him transform involuntarily, but he knew you would only let him have you if he was more human-like. 

You watched him shift smoothly, showing his human traits while he was still larger than any human could possibly be. Dark hair decorated his incredibly muscular body, while his human shaped ears were still pointy and his human hands large and hairy with his long nails shaped like claws. He was a beast and yet still a man. A man you loved and a beast you desired…

His muzzle transformed back into Sihtric's beautiful face, and upon the sight of you spreading your legs, his eyes began to glow. When you leaned back on your elbows and slowly spread your legs for him, teasingly pulling up your nightgown, he dragged the tip of his large tongue across his sharp teeth, like a hungry beast… and hungry he was. You felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through your body as you looked at him, knowing the wild looking wolf-man was there with only one purpose; to breed you.

Sihtric knelt down at the end of your bed and grabbed your ankles with his warm and large hands. He pulled you effortlessly towards him, throwing your legs over his broad and hairy shoulders, and he locked his strong werewolf-like arms tightly around your hips. You couldn't possibly escape his grip, and you shuddered with anticipation as you felt his hot breath against your already exposed folds. He teased you first, kissing and licking your thighs painstakingly slowly, taking his time to taste your flesh as he dragged his teeth over your skin. You murmured soft pleads, desperately wanting more, and once he delved his tongue between your folds to devour you entirely, you lost all dominance of your being. 

Your legs trembled uncontrollably when feeling the slow and deep strokes of his large and broad tongue, while his teeth lightly grazed your sensitive skin, constantly reminding you that you were being pleased by a supernatural creature, by a beast.

You arched your back at the intense sensations Sihtric gave you, and you placed one hand across your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle your moans, while you gripped the sheets tightly with your other. His large arms had you locked in with his claws pressing onto your skin. And everytime your body jerked out of pleasure he held you tighter, making sure you couldn't squirm out of his grip as he consumed you like a starved beast, his hair pleasantly tickling between your thighs while lapping your core. Your head was spinning as you pushed yourself up your elbows again, looking down at Sihtric and finding his eyes glowing brightly while he looked up at you as he made you near your high. He watched you fall apart before him, and didn't stop until your moans had died down. He looked at you, pleased and satisfied as he licked his lips while your juices still coated his facial hair.

You tried to move further up the bed as you were lightheaded, with your legs weak and trembling, but the wolf-man wasn't quite done with you. He smoothly climbed onto your bed, and his claws sunk into your mattress as he crawled slowly towards you, flexing his huge muscles beautifully while ripping your sheets fortuitously.

'You're not going anywhere,' Sihtric purred as he mounted you, and brought his face close to yours, 'my little red riding hood.'

He pinned your arms above your head, and you felt so small yet so safe under his impressive form. He held your wrists with just one of his massive hands, while his other wrapped around your throat as he smiled devilishly.

'I warned you,' Sihtric whispered against your lips, 'to not let any creatures of the night into your room. But you didn't listen, did you?' he chuckled darkly, 'and now… a big bad wolf has caught you. And he won't let go until you're fully bred.'

His sharp teeth made a slight cut in your lip as he kissed you hungrily, and a low growl sounded as he tasted your blood in his mouth while his tongue was inside yours. He proceeded to kiss your neck, flicking his large tongue against your skin in between kisses while he lined his large and hard cock up with your entrance. A silent gasp left your lips as he entered you with ease while stretching you brutally with his size, yet it was strangely pleasant all the same. He didn't give you any time to adjust, knowing your slick would soothe the burning sensation soon enough as he vigorously rutted into you, fucking you like a feral beast while grunting and growling heavily in your ear.

He tossed you around the bed as he had his way with you, your moans and cries for more only making him further aroused and wanting to breed you for hours on end. Which is exactly what he did, filling you with his seed over and over again, until you were completely ruined with tears staining your cheeks as you smiled at him with dazed eyes. And as soon as his beast side was satisfied, his human side made him feel ashamed for letting himself go like that.

Sihtric was fast to shift into his daunting werewolf form after he had pulled out, growing back his ears and muzzle along with his bushy tail. And he quickly picked you up in his huge arms, pressing you against his furry chest while he laid down on your bed, keeping you snug against him as you dozed off in his warm and comforting embrace.

You were safe.

The next morning you woke up, feeling absolutely wrecked but happier than ever when you found Sihtric sleeping next to you in his human form. You cuddled up closer, wanting to pull the sheets over his naked body, but you discovered they were shredded once again. You sighed with a soft chuckle, which woke him up, and he rubbed his eyes before he gave you a shy smile.

'Who knew the big bad wolf could be so shy after his deeds?' you smiled.

Sihtric hid his face in the crook of your neck while his hand moved up into your hair, and he then gently forced your lips to his, capturing you in a soft and sweet kiss.

'How do you feel?' he asked, his voice raspy.

'Wrecked,' you snorted, 'and sore…'

'Sorry,' Sihtric smiled sheepishly.

'Don't be. I asked for it, didn't I?' you laughed, then became serious again, 'but… so… can we make this a monthly thing then, or…?'

Sihtric laughed, pleasantly surprised you weren't freaked out by the night before, and he shrugged.

'Do you want it to become a monthly thing?'

'Yeah,' you confessed shyly, 'if you want it too?'

'Of course I do,' Sihtric chuckled, 'you don't know how good it feels to release that… that tension.'

'Well,' you giggled, 'I sure know how good it felt to me.'

You looked at him and slowly traced the scars on his face with your fingers, a gesture which made Sihtric become silent and feel vulnerable, for you weren't afraid of him and his past anymore. He sensed it, he felt it, and he loved it.

'I love you,' you whispered.

'And I love you,' he whispered, 'mine?'

'Yours,' you said with a nod, and you kissed his lips once more, 'but you have to stop destroying my curtains and the sheets, please.'

'The curtains?' he frowned and looked over at your window, finding them ruined, 'yeah, sorry about that. And sorry for the sheets.'

Sihtric swallowed hard and pulled you in for a tight hug, in an attempt to not make you wonder if he had left new claw markings on the outside of your freshly painted house, because he had, but he wasn't going to tell you yet.

'Sihtric?' you whispered against his neck as he held you.

'Hm?'

'I love you… in every form.'

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[thetravelingmaster]

Short Story: Conquering the Dream

Male's Point of View - Hypnosis

I watched her jump on the sofa and couldn't help but smile.

"Look Master! I got a new pair of kitty ears! Aren't they the cutest?" she said excitedly. "I think I should wear them the next time you turn me into Kitten..."

My girlfriend was so gorgeous compared to me that most people couldn't figure out how we started to date. Which always makes me laugh in a way because in truth, she was much more than simply my girlfriend, but I couldn't very well tell people that she was also my hypnotic plaything and obedient slave.

Thankfully, the story of how we met is a fairly common story in college.

Well... The beginning of it anyway...

Pretty girl takes a class she isn't interested in, but knows it will give the credits she'll eventually get on job applications. Of course, she only aimed to pass said course and isn't truly interested in the material. Since she doesn't however, she finds herself in the sticky situation where she can't maintain a passing grade. Sadly, her calculations of getting a pass from the teacher because she's cute and flirty backfired because of his strong ethics.

Now the girl is desperate because failing an extra credit course looks much worse than not applying for the class in the first place.

Pretty girl then looks for an affordable tutor to help her get back on track and earn a passing grade. She eventually found me and as expected, she was very flirty and hinted that if I would give her some sort of discount on my tutoring fees, it would be worth my wild. Not being immune to the attentions of a pretty girl even if it was obviously a ruse to get me to tutor her for free, I offered a deal.

Since I was a psychology major, I told her that if she helped me with my hypnotherapy studies, I would help her with her class studies. I was about to add that I could use our hypnosis practice to help her focus on her classes, but she interrupted me by excitedly accepting.

Saying that she found the arrangement more than fair all while looking visibly relieved she didn't have to pay me. She was VERY skeptical about hypnosis in general and that actually helped me a lot in my studies because I had to be creative in my induction plans. Thankfully, she was a real sport about it since my tutoring was already showing promising signs in her class.

Eventually though, I was able to place her in a trance and to my utter delight, she turned out to be quite the open minded and trusting subject. Since I was a geek, she viewed me as completely harmless so her subconscious didn't put up any sort of defense when I began to explore her mind.

And tweak it...

I started slow, but when I saw that she remained clueless to my influence, even after I implanted a suggestion that she needed to be in her bra and panties for her tutoring session with me, I concluded that I could be bolder.

I knew very well that she didn't find me in any way attractive, but since she had come to trust me so completely, I had a solid base to work with and after a few clever sessions, I found a part of her that had the potential to find me attractive. Nurturing that sentiment went so much better than I could have hoped and before long, she was unconsciously dressing up extra pretty when she knew she was coming over to see me.

She didn't notice it at all when her body made every excuse to pose for me or brush up against me when I tutored her. Or at least, her conscious mind didn't notice.

Her subconscious definitely did and it fueled her growing attraction even more.

Since she proved to be so pliable, I decided to do a little experiment by having her strip naked while still in her trance. She didn't resist at all and I could even see tale tell signs that part of her was enjoying it. Getting even bolder, I had her wake up with the belief that she wasn't naked at all.

Admittedly, it was more than a little entertaining to watch her unconsciously flirt with me while she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothes. Since she still remained completely clueless to what she was truly doing, I decided to leave her subconscious with a few new things to think about before she left.

It took a few more sessions, but eventually those little sprouts of thought bore fruit as her attraction to me shifted to outright arousal. Since she had an unconscious habit to wear revealing clothes, it was plain to see how horny her body became in my presence.

And thanks to a few interesting suggestions, I was glad to see it react that much more when ever I phrased my instructions with words like 'you will do this now' instead of 'you should try this next time'. Even if I was slow and deliberate with my suggestions, it still fascinated me to no end that with all the changes I was making to her behavior, she still remained clueless, even when it became clear that our hypnosis sessions weren't at all something I could use in class.

Although... I'm sure most of my fellow students wouldn't have minded it at all if we did an 'adult' demonstration of the many triggers floating around in her mind.

Eventually, all my meddling came to a wonderful head when midterms came around and she passed her exam with flying colors. She was so happy and grateful for my help that she decided to offer me a home cooked meal at her place as a way to thank me for all my hard work. I hadn't specifically suggested anything more than a deep desire to reward me for my work, so I was pleasantly surprised by her offer.

All evening, she 'doted' and flirted with me until it was time to leave, where she honestly surprised me again by pushing me against the door so she could kiss me. I was always planning for her to feel overwhelmed by her growing attraction for me, but originally thought it would take longer to break down her preconceptions of me. It didn't take long for our lustful make out session to take us to her bedroom where she wouldn't take no for an answer.

Which may or may not be something I slipped into her mind...

Regardless, we fucked and for me, it was the best evening of my life! I learned afterwards, once we were done and I took advantage of our post coital cuddling to drop her in a trance, that unsurprisingly, even though she hadn't faked her release, it hadn't been as wonderful for her. Thankfully, her mind was so open to my influence by then that it took very little convincing to shape her memory of the event into something she thought was earth shattering and deeply meaningful.

After that first night, her attraction for me wasn't just something I had nurtured in her subconscious anymore so when we had our next hypnotic 'rendezvous', her mind took to my suggestions even better than before. So much so that she didn't even think to notice that I used a hypnosis session, which was supposed to be meant only for my studies, to have her do a long erotic strip tease for me once the 'trance' was over. As expected, she thought it was all her idea as a way to seduce me into sleeping with her again.

Which we obviously did and like before, I didn't waste the relaxing cuddling we enjoyed and dropped her back in a trance so I could work on her sexual appreciation of my meager talents in bed. Surprisingly enough, my previous 'work' had already made our second session of love-making much more agreeable for her, but nonetheless, I made sure to tweak her memories to make sure it was extra special.

Since everything had gone so well and she was still so utterly clueless about my hypnotic influence, I decided to kick things up a notch during our next session. So far, I had only made her strip during her trance while only giving her hypnotic suggestions of pleasure and enjoyment. However, once she dropped in a deep trance, I tested how she would react to a suggestion that made her masturbate. I held my breath as I watched her hand slowly make its way to her already dripping folds, but to my glee, she stayed perfectly entranced as her fingers began to play with herself.

After a long edge, I had her wake up, still naked, and talked with her as if our session was done. Like before, she gave no indication she realized she was naked, but moreover, she also didn't give off any indicators that told me she was aware she had just masturbated in front of me.

Needless to say, I started to include a lot more pleasure in her trances after that, which I made sure to link it to those initial fun suggestions that made her aroused whenever I 'commanded' her to do something. By the time we had our next fuck, I could already notice a sharp shift in her attitude in bed when I flexed my authority.

Obviously, when I dropped her after our fun, I made sure to expand those feelings and tweak her memories a little to make sure she noticed the link in her conscious mind.

To my immense delight, it worked like a charm because when we met up again for our usual tutoring, she was extra flirty and VERY attentive towards me. When we switched from our tutoring to her hypnosis session, I capitalized on that feeling and made it bloom even more into a deep desire to please me as she mindlessly masturbated for me.

By the time her trance was over, she was so overwhelmed with pleasure that she didn't even register that my cock was already in her mouth as she awoke from trance. Her desire to please mixed with her mind-melting pleasure so perfectly that she didn't miss a beat and sucked me off as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Obviously, I wasted no time and placed her in a VERY deep trance once I came. Just to make sure she remembered how enjoyable it was to please me like that. However, I didn't have to change her memories all that much because apparently, she had enjoyed it a lot already. That surprised me because up until that point, she hadn't really bothered to pleasure me orally during our fucks and it had made me assume it was because she didn't enjoy doing it. Needless to say, after that little conversation with her subconscious and her blooming desire to please me, she found herself quite eager to try it again the next time we were intimate and of course, I subsequently made doubly sure she remembered how incredible it felt.

Once she was firmly convinced of how awesome and satisfying it was to suck and fuck me, I began to introduce suggestions that would trigger when ever we were intimate. Or... To be more precise, whenever she gave my cock pleasure.

It wasn't anything like a deep trance, but the hypnotic suggestion still pulled her down in a mild compliant trance, which ended up doubling her enjoyment of our carnal time together because by that point, her mind was more than a little addicted to being in a trance. Plus, as an added bonus, her increased compliant mindset and enhanced pleasure did wonders to continually condition her.

Cementing her deep enjoyment of my control...

After a while, I couldn't resist the urge to implant an oral pleasure trigger and even if I knew that with all I had already done, the odds were that she wouldn't even realize it was a hypnotic manipulation, I was still mildly anxious the first time I trigger her while we relaxed and watched a movie. My angst was extremely short lived however because all she did when I spoke the trigger was smile mischievously as she 'thought' about something erotic she wanted to do to me.

I still remember how satisfying it felt to watch her giggle naughtily as she moved down on the sofa so she could blow me.

Spending almost every available night over at her place also meant that I could work on her subconscious as much as I wanted. It made it so easy to substitute the way she called me when we were alone. And still, her conscious mind remained completely clueless to the fact that she had started to call me Master. Even when I came over one night and casually collared her, she didn't think it was odd or weird at all because to her subconscious, she had already surrendered herself to me a thousand time over.

I'm honestly unsure if it was because of my patience and skill or if it was simply because her mind turned out to be so pliable, but by the time she moved in with me, her mind was so open to my influence that a firm command, if repeated a few times, acted as well as triggers without the need to place her in a deep trance.

For example, I commanded her to kneel and feel aroused whenever I snapped my fingers and even if it didn't quite work the first few times she consciously obeyed, I quickly realized that the instructions took hold in her subconscious because it didn't take long for it to work as intended. Nowadays, if she sees me snap my fingers, she instantly kneels with a deep moan as her pussy moistens in anticipation.

The last step that admittedly caused me anxiety was to make her aware that I was still hypnotizing her on a regular basis. Because of how clueless she had been to everything else, I didn't HAVE to do it, but I desired with her a little more openly at home and having a subject become fascinated with her own triggers was something I wished to experience with her.

As with every other step, it turned out I had no reason to be nervous at all because the moment I proposed erotic hypnosis, her eyes began to sparkle with anticipation. All she could think about was how much more pleasure she could offer me if we started to play like that. 

Honestly, I was still surprised that it never even occurred to her that I could use my hypnotic talents in the way that I did. But she never did and we’ve grown so comfortable and happy in our relationship that even our friends stopped finding our relationship weird.

No doubt they chalk it up to being some sort of modern fairy tale where the nerdy average guy manages to conquer the heart of the pretty girl through his hidden charm and brilliant intellect.

I mean… They aren’t totally wrong…

After all, I DID conquer her in my own brilliant way.

#short story #Conquering the Dream

[worldsover]

In Motion

~3.4k words, massage, gym sex, your personal training client!Jisoo

(for @sooyadelicacies, a quick bfh)

Jisoo flows through various yoga poses with grace and strength, her toned body clad in form-fitting pants. Despite the late hour, you made an exception for Jisoo tonight; she's worth it. As she holds a challenging lunge, her thighs quivering from the effort, you admire her determination—one of the reasons why you cleared your schedule for this session. Besides, it's technically Saturday now, so staying up to watch her is justifiable since you'd be working at home anyway. It definitely has nothing to do with wanting to appreciate the curve of her hips, or the arch of her back, or the way her ponytail sways as she moves into different positions, revealing the elegant line of her neck. Definitely not. Who would stay up this late just to watch someone sweat? Or to admire the sight of them in a sports bra, revealing their cleavage? Certainly not you.

"I saw that you landed that yoga sponsorship. It suits you perfectly," you comment, catching a whiff of her jasmine-scented shampoo as she walks by for weighted squats. Your eyes linger on her backside before you correct her form.

A thin layer of sweat glistens on Jisoo's forehead after finishing a set. "Thank you!" she pants, her chest rising and falling with exertion. "I never thought I'd be working out this late." Her laughter fills the room and warms your heart.

The distant rumble of a sports car breaks your focus. Living just steps away from Elysium Fitness, these interruptions are common in such an expensive neighborhood. "Don't worry about him. Just showing off," you reassure Jisoo with a smile, and she chuckles in response.

As the night wears on, the bright white lights are replaced with warmer, softer lamps that are easier on the eyes. But the harsh lights of the city at night still seep through, casting a neon glow over everything. Your breathing matches the thuds of feet and weights hitting the floor as you both lie on mats for core work. You guide Jisoo through planks and leg raises until you're both exhausted. With each movement, her top rides up and exposes more of her toned abs, testing your self-control. You've worked with plenty of beautiful actresses and models with stunning bodies, but there's something about Jisoo that sets her apart.

During a break to sip water, Jisoo offers you a taste of her strawberry-flavored drink. The sweetness catches you off guard and elicits another giggle from her. Her laughter quickens your pulse in a way no workout ever could.

"Rough day on set?" you ask.

She lets out a sigh. Sitting on the floor, she leans back and supports herself with her arms behind her. Her chest rises and falls, covered in sweat. "Not just work," she responds. "I broke up with him."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? Isn't he still your co-star?"

"Yep." She pops her lips, and you nod sympathetically at the awkwardness of the situation.

As you help her up after a strenuous set, your hands brush against her stomach and back. At that moment, your eyes meet hers in an intense gaze as she leans into you for support. Company policy strictly forbids personal involvement with clients, but denying Jisoo is impossible. The city lights seem to dance across her glistening skin, mixing with the scent of her perfume.

"I'm here whenever you want to talk," you offer, gently massaging the tension from her shoulders as she relaxes into your touch. "You know I'm ready to help with whatever I can."

She takes a deep breath before responding. "I know. That's why I like you." Your heart skips a beat at her words, and time seems to stand still as the sounds of your exertion fade away.

You try not to gulp. "You know, I actually have my massage license. So if you need me to work out anything else... promise I won't charge extra."

Jisoo stays still for a moment, then nods. "I think I like the sound of that."

Together, the two of you walk towards the massage rooms. The gym is quiet and empty at this late hour, a stark contrast to its usual bustling energy during peak hours. As you enter, the sounds of grunting and heavy breathing are replaced by soft jazz music playing from the speakers. You close and lock the door behind you for privacy, even though it's unlikely that anyone will disturb you in this peaceful haven.

But then you remember and go back to lock the door. "Hey, if you want to change in the locker room—"

"Keep it locked."

The air is thick with tension as you wait for her to undress, every part of your body buzzing with anticipation. She begins by removing her shoes, then slowly pulls down her pants, revealing long and toned legs. It feels like she's putting on a show for you, yet she still blushes and you look away out of respect. Her sports bra is the last thing to come off; you bite your cheek to avoid staring as she hands it over without meeting your gaze. Now wearing only a pair of panties, Jisoo lays face down on the table with a heavy sigh.

You start massaging her shoulders, feeling the gentle give of the springs beneath her weight. Your hands continue to move lower until they reach the small of her back where you pause for a moment, taking in a deep breath. You catch a whiff of sweat mixed with jasmine from her shampoo and a hint of strawberries from her flavored water. Her skin glistens with perspiration and you quickly grab some massage oil from the cupboard, generously pouring it onto your hands before returning to her. The shine of her fair skin, now glimmering with oil and muscle definition, has your breath catching in your throat. You continue kneading, now using oil to glide your hands all over her back, shoulders, neck—and you think you can hear her moaning softly, like a contented purr.

She turns over onto her back, exposing even more of herself to you. At first, she covers her breasts with one arm and avoids your gaze. But then she relaxes and lets her arms rest by her sides. Her breasts are small but perky and enticing. Her nipples are firm. You squirt out some more oil, slowly gliding it up and down her arms and legs until they shine in the warm dim light.

Jisoo lets out a soft moan as your skilled hands work their way deeper, releasing any tension or stress she may have had. It's almost like a mockery to her, the way you only touch her limbs. Your gaze wanders over her body, tracing curves that you've only ever imagined caressing before. She tilts her back slightly, seemingly inviting you to explore her chest. But you resist, choosing instead to focus on her shoulders, collarbones, and sides—purposely teasing her with your careful touches. You maintain the facade of a professional masseur, suppressing your desires for now.

She turns back onto her stomach and you can't help but notice how her beautiful butt jiggles slightly as she settles in again.

Once more, you start from her shoulders and work your way down her back. This time, she shudders as you continue massaging downwards, stopping just above the top of her thighs. You lean forward to whisper in her ear, "Would it be okay if I moved a little lower?" Your voice is husky with nervousness and desire as your fingertips brush against the smooth skin above where her panties sit.

She nods slowly, biting her lip nervously as she exhales heavily through clenched teeth. As your hands knead at her thighs, she moans louder this time. "C-can you take off my panties? They're...starting to feel uncomfortable," she whispers. Like she's too embarrassed to admit it aloud.

"Of course," you say, and your finger hooks into the waistband. Lowering, carefully, you peel her panties down her legs, and watch in awe: her pussy is soaked. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Mhm," she moans, whiny. "Just help me relax, please."

Without fabric in the way, you can really sink your digits into her backside properly. You can feel every ridge of her spine, every indent of muscle. You start to massage her glutes, circling and kneading them until you find that perfect spot. Her hips buck up involuntarily into your hands, begging for more as you bring relief to her tense body. You can't deny yourself anymore; your hands slowly creep towards her butt cheeks and then lower still. As you work on her legs, your fingers somehow find their way between them, teasing her inner thighs, earning another moan. The scent of her arousal fills the room, and it's almost too much for you. But you keep going, kneading, caressing, rubbing away all that pent-up tension. Your heart pounds in your chest as your thumb brushes against her clit, earning a tiny gasp from her lips. She's wet and hot to the touch.

"How's that?" you ask quietly.

"Good," she breathes out between ragged breaths. "So good... keep going."

That single brush becomes more purposeful, strokes of your fingers along her folds. She grips the edge of the table tightly, trembling under your touch like it's somewhere between pain and pleasure, but listen to her whimpering—it's all pleasure, and any pain is at your restraint.

"Please. More."

You nod, feeling your heart race in your chest. Your fingers find their way to her core and gently part her folds as Jisoo sighs heavily. Her labia is swollen and wet, begging for attention, but you take your time, teasing them with the tip of your index finger before plunging inside her. She cries out softly, arching her back into the table. Your middle finger joins the first one inside her, stretching her tightness with a gentle pressure that she welcomes eagerly. Her mouth falls open in a silent 'O' shape and she grinds against your hand, seeking more. You smile against her back as you watch your fingers disappear into her hot, tight heat and begin to move them in and out in slow, steady strokes. Her pussy clenches around them, milking your fingers as you continue massaging her thighs and glutes. You can't help but taste a droplet of sweat on her skin and lick it clean, savoring the mix of saltiness and jasmine on your tongue.

Jisoo's moans grow louder now as you work your fingers deeper inside her while still massaging her outer thighs; she trembles under your touch as you apply just enough pressure to hit all the right spots at once. Your other hand reaches up to cup one of her breasts through the oil-covered skin, squeezing and rolling the nipple between your fingers while you pleasure her from below. She gasps at the mix of sensations before coming apart underneath you; warmth seeps through your fingertips as she climaxes hard behind you. Every muscle in her body tenses before relaxing with deep sighs that fill the room. Even then, you don't stop; instead of slowing down, you continue to stimulate her, not wanting this moment to end. Minutes pass before she starts to calm down, and when she does, she pants heavily with an afterglow that fills the room. Finally, you sit back on the table, looking down at your sexy client as she lies there completely naked before you. She catches her breath raggedly, her chest rising and falling rapidly. You wipe away the remaining oil with a towel, then grab some fresh ones for both of you.

"Thank you, oh, fuck, that was incredible." She makes eye contact with you. "Can you pass my clothes?"

You hand them over, your hands shaking a little as you watch her dress herself.

Suddenly, Jisoo grabs your hand. "I need to reward you for that."

"What? No, it's fine, that was plenty reward—"

But then she pulls you away, and you find yourself whisked through the empty gym once again—as an employee, you know this place like the back of your hand, but you have no idea where she's taking you.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't Jisoo on your lap while you were sitting on a gym bench in a squat rack. This position isn't in any of your training programs.

"Wh-why here? If there's anywhere someone could show up... I mean, there's always crazy busy bodybuilders..."

"Shh." Jisoo has a wicked grin. "Just relax."

If you had to wager a guess, it would be the mirrors—no room has more mirrors than the weight room. And you're thankful because you get to watch Jisoo work in her tight leggings and her sports bra. Though you're certain that watching is only secondary to the sensation of it all. Of Jisoo clawing at your sweatpants, rubbing over your bulge. It is a close second, however, seeing the sweat on her tits again, or the curves of her back or her butt.

Jisoo's kisses are gentle yet demanding, exploring every inch of your neck and chest as she leads the way. Her sweet panting against your skin adds to the forbidden feeling of being in a deserted gym at this hour. You slip your hands into her hair, running your fingers through the soft strands as she takes you deeper into her world with each slow, desperate lick along your muscles. You feel like you're being worshiped by her tongue, and you wonder how a goddess can worship. Her body presses against yours, grinding against your hardness through the fabric of your sweatpants while she teases you mercilessly. The warmth between her legs beckons you closer as she moans into your neck, inviting you to take what she so clearly wants to give.

Finally, she pulls back and looks up at you with a mix of desire and vulnerability in her eyes. "Please," she whispers, her voice raw with need. And before you can question it further, she pulls down your sweats and underwear together, freeing your erection from its confines. Her hands wrap around you, stroking slowly to test the waters as they glide up and down your length. You gasp at the sensation of her soft palms on your skin, feeling the calluses from hours of training mixed with her tender touch. Then she kneels down between your legs, pulling you to the edge of the bench with little effort. "You know how long I've been wanting to taste this?" Her rhetorical question has you imagining all the times in the past you've wanted to fuck her, all the times you've wanted to keep her bent over in her yoga pose and slid your cock inside.

You close your eyes as she takes you into her mouth, feeling a rush of pleasure as her warm breath tickles your skin. You grip the bar above her head tightly as she starts to move, her lips sliding up and down your length. You can't resist leaning back into her touch, enjoying the sensation of her tongue swirling around your head before taking more of you in.

Her hand gently squeezes your balls while the other plays with your perineum, sending waves of pleasure through you. The sounds of her sucking and slurping fill the room, making it difficult to keep quiet. As she gazes up at you with a smirk on her lips every few moments, you feel like the luckiest man alive.

You watch as she admires herself in the mirror while bobbing on your cock. Her eyes never leave yours as she starts to stroke herself through her leggings, the leather creaking beneath you both. "Fuck," she whispers before looking back up at you with determination. "I want you inside me."

She stands up and quickly removes her shoes, pants, and underwear. There's no teasing this time, just raw need and desire in her eyes. You wonder if this gym bench can handle the intensity she's about to bring. Gripping onto the bars of the squat rack next to you, Jisoo positions herself above you with ease. She spreads saliva over your erection with her small hands, but there is already ample wetness from her own arousal. Slowly inch by inch, she takes all of you inside until she's completely impaled on your cock. Her arms wrap around your neck and her eyes never leave yours as she moves her hips back and forth in a slow rhythm. The sound of the leather bench creaking only adds to the taboo excitement of the moment.

Her breasts sway with each thrust, brushing against your chest with each movement. You grab one firmly, feeling her nipple harden under your touch as she grinds down on you. Her breath hitches as she looks into your eyes again, both of you consumed by desire. It's exhilarating to see her like this: uninhibited and craving more.

A glance in the mirror confirms how wild this situation is—the two of you making love in an empty gym late at night—but it only adds to the intensity for both of you. You watch her body move above you with a mix of arousal and pride as her trainer. You know just how much effort she's put into maintaining her incredible figure, all the hard work and dedication despite her busy schedule and strict diet. And now, that same body is moving around your cock, her labia gripping onto you tightly. You thrust upwards to meet her movements, feeling her tight walls clenching and releasing around your length. Her eyes close as she leans forward, and you and Jisoo kiss passionately.

As you break the kiss, you say, "Show me how well you've learned your squats."

Jisoo smiles. "Of course." She slides up your cock, which slaps against your abs with a wet noise, covered in her slick. She turns around and gives you a full view of her backside. While you got a decent glimpse of it in the reflections, seeing it in full is like seeing a painting in person. Her neck, her shoulders, the muscles in her back. The hourglass shape along her waist and hips to her toned thighs. They're enough to end a man with sight alone—and then she lowers herself on your cock once again, riding you reverse cowgirl as you lean back, your hands behind your head, in the sexiest core workout of your life.

She grinds down on you, making you beg for release as her act of worship continues.

Your fingers find their way to her hips, guiding her rhythm as you watch the most beautiful woman you've ever seen grind on your lap. The sight of her ass cheeks bouncing, the sounds of wet flesh slapping against your cock, it's all too much. Her eyes flutter shut in pleasure and she tosses her head back, moaning your name loudly in the empty gym. Her movements become faster, and harder against your grasp as she slides up and down your length with ease.

"Fuck," she gasps between breaths, "you feel so good." You bite down on your bottom lip hard enough to stifle a groan of approval as she rides you like a champion athlete. "I'm gonna... Fuck!" she shouts, as her legs tremble.

You sit up and wrap your arms around her torso as her body begins to shake, and here, you fuck her through her orgasm. You can see her eyes rolling in the mirror, and by the time your lips are on her neck, you only see the whites. You fondle her breasts, thrust upward into her, and feel her melt into you. "That's it, cum on my cock."

Jisoo's moans get louder and louder. Slick warmth surrounds you as she cums, tightening around your cock. She feels so good that you can't help but lose control too, though you manage to pull out before you start to pulsate. Regaining some of her awareness, she clasps her thighs together around your shaft, and you pump into the delectable pressure and friction. Fucking her thighs, you spurting and spraying all over her legs, her midriff, and her tits. You can feel her soft pussy lips still throbbing in sympathy, and the two of you ride out your climaxes together for what feels like forever.

#kpop smut #blackpink smut #reader insert #male reader

[douwatahima]

sorry to invoke james somerton again but i just watched his "apology" video and the way he addresses the criticism to his utena video has been scratching at my brain. for this who don't want to watch (which is so so fair), here's what he says:

"we ended up making a lot of videos we didn't want to make because people were asking for them and so there were a lot of videos we made that we didn't want to make and i think those videos are very clear on which ones those were. one of them never got officially released, it was released to patrons. some patrons have shared it to other people before all the videos went private and a lot of people hate the analysis nick and i did on it and so maybe it's good that that never got properly released because maybe it would have hurt people and i don't want that."

so, not directly saying he's talking about the utena video…but he's talking about the utena video lol. the thing that really gets me is like…look. full disclosure. i used to be subscribed to james somerton long before this whole thing blew up. i wasn't necessarily a big fan of his video style, but he talked about a lot of media i enjoy and i liked his analysis (that wasn't really his, but i didn't know that at the time) so i followed him.

the thing about him was he was always asking his followers for shows he should do videos on, especially anime, and then not long after making those posts he would post videos of "things to come" including like…every anime people suggested. not all of these shows ended getting videos made, but the point is james really set himself up as the queer anime video essayist; constantly promising videos about every show people told him they wanted.

and a lot of people loved that about him! a lot of the big names talking about anime on youtube are people doing season by season breakdowns or people talking about big shonen titles, and here was someone consistently pushing out long form analyses on less talked about shows! great! but to find out that not only was a lot of what he said plagiarized, but also that a lot videos were just shat out to appeal to his audience without any care or passion? just to get more views and more money on patreon? that's literally crazy when you're talking about something usually as involved as video essays.

on top of that i'm about 95% certain him doing an utena essay was a patreon tier goal (hence why that video was released there first). he literally heard queer anime fans asking him en masse for a video about one of the best queer anime of all time, decided to set it as a patreon goal, and then literally boxed himself into doing a video on an anime he didn't care about because he promised it to the people who payed him to be the "queer anime guy".

and the thing is he 100% didn't need to do that. he didn't need to "make a lot of videos he didn't want to make because people were asking for them". i follow a ton of video essayists who get requests for videos all the time! that doesn't mean they have to, or even should, make them if they're not passionate about the topic! video essays, when actually done well and with integrity, are hard work. that's why most good video essayists take a lot of time between videos! to think that this guy just took every possible suggestion, dangled them like carrots in front of his audience, that made a bunch of passionless, mediocre videos to solidify his station as the queer video essayist to watch is just…upsetting and disheartening tbh.

anyway if you want some actually good analysis of revolutionary girl utena, my favourites are "is revolutionary girl utena still relevant?" and "why revolutionary girl utena still slaps" by stushi, and "the shadow play gays" podcast (note: this podcast is run on the same feed as another podcast called "bitter jurors". you may have to scroll back a bit to find "shadow play gays", it started in 2021 if that helps, but i promise you it's worth it).

#anime: utena #james somerton #there's obviously more important things in the apology video than this #like him straight up not using the word plagiarism or him throwing his supposed best friend under the bus continually #but this just irked me in a particular way you know?

[stararch4ngelqueen]

i saw this couple on the train and his gf fell asleep on him and she just looked at her fondly and took off his jacket to put around her and i damn near burst into fucking tears because what the actual fuck-

ANYWAY

soft!simon reading to reader about something that interests him and she just...falls asleep on him (she could be tired from work or wvr) and he just looks at her like shes the only girl in the world????? please???? i need to heal my heart rn

<3333333

This isn’t proofread, as I risked my sanity typing this out on a long car drive. I hope you like it!

Time written - 5:43 p.m

“That’s a lot of paperwork.” Your comment reaches his ears after he hands you a mug of apple clove tea, cuddled up cozy in a warm gray comforter on the couch.

“It is,” he mutters, carrying with him a thick journal half full of pages he needed to continue. Such as a man like him to bring work home, wanting to keep an eye on you as you fought this seasonal cold.

“That looks like a thousand words.”

“Probably is.”

“What’s it about?” You ask while sipping your hot beverage, tasting orange blossom honey he used to sweeten your beverage.

“Boring stuff, love.” He comments after getting comfortable beside you, clicking his pen in case he needed to use it. “Not worth your time, just drink your tea.”

“Tell me.” You insist without force, resisting the urge to peer over at his blue and black handwriting.

Simon ponders for a good while, mindlessly tapping his pen along thick paper. He figured you’d ask once he brought out this old journal when inspiration struck, but to speak of it? That was a little new.

“It’s a … manuscript,” he decides to call it with the slightest bit of hesitation. “Or a draft. Thought of writing a novel at some point.”

“Really?” Your head meets his, watching him nod slowly.

“Mhm. Mostly short stories. Not ‘bout my life, no. Just … about a boy.”

“A boy?” Your smile permeates through your words, making him sheepishly tilt his head with a nervous grin.

“A boy with a stray dog. They have an adventure in the woods, that sorta stuff.”

“Sounds cute,” you smile, finding the idea of Simon writing a story endearing. Maybe this took his mind off his work stress, our about his own personal struggles in general.

“Can I hear some of it?”

Simon’s lips flatten in thought before he sets the pet down, proceeding to flip through a few pages.

“I’ve never showed anyone this,” he peers at you. “So, don’t laugh.”

“I won’t,” you smile with a mild giddiness whilst getting more comfortable.

Simon proceeds to relay a short paragraph he had written just a couple weeks back. Back when he barely had the time to think much of this journal, but felt the ever so endearing writing urge at a late hour of the night.

He remembers you had gone to bed early that night after cooking him dinner. The snow was dense outside, covering all the piles of withered, colored leaves that had long since fallen from hibernating trees.

“Through brittle cold air and dense fogs resides a canopy made of broken trees; the roof made of crunchy leaves, the steps made of cracked stones. Upon the center of the canopy laid a small puppy, no more than seven or eight months old. It’s fur was slick, her eyes a bright blue. She sat waiting for the boy, proceeding to greet him like an old friend that had left for a long time.”

Simon pauses, realizing his cheeks had grown a bit warm. Clearing his throat a bit, he turns his attention to the next paragraph, purposely avoiding the adoring look in your eyes after reading such a creation.

“The puppy clung to his side like a burr, waddling along with no promise of food. The boy gave nothing in return, other than carrying her in his arms when her legs were too tired to continue.”

“The boy was in search of an old well, said to be in the midst of fir trees in the center of a mushroom circle. Once he finds the well, he’s told to look inside for all his desires to come true.”

“He wandered for hours and hours until he found what he sought; a broken well with dried, dead vines clinging to the rocks. The boy leans over, peering inside to an apparition of a siren staring back in the water’s reflection. She smiles, singing promises of riches and cures to all sickness he knows, for all she requires is for him to reach for her hands fifty feet down below into the cavern.”

“He desired nothing more until the puppy bit into his pant leg, the strength of her tiny, curly body bracing him back from making such a jump. To the boy, who promised not even an ounce of bread to such a minor companion, broke his blindness to the siren’s secret demise.”

“Such a small little thing opened his eyes just in time before the stones cave in, swallowing up the well without its promised child. In return for the pup’s bravery in saving his life, the boy carried her in his arms, promising a warm bed and home cooked meal all the way back home.”

A faint, heavy pressure rests along his shoulder, your slumped head nearly slipping off of his shoulder.

He’s quiet for the longest time, gazing down at the reason he enjoys coming home each day. The sweetest, most heartwarming woman he’s had the pleasure of laying his eyes on.

A chorus of angels erupted from your lungs with every word you spoke, your pretty head full of ideas and phrases that never left his mind running dry with boredom. You were a strong, incredibly beautiful woman, whom sometimes reminded him of a bouncing puppy by his side during your private moments within your own home.

Especially now, snuggled up in his arms, your affected nasals interfering with your breathing just a bit. The cold medicine did it’s job in helping you sleep, so Simon was more than content. Especially as he chose to believe your mind was affected by a cold medicine’s side effect rather than pure boredom.

Softly, he hums as he removes the still warm mug from your hands, readjusting the blanket over your shoulders.

“Told ya so, sweetheart.” He murmurs, running two rugged fingers through your hair before peering outside, frost coating the window pane as pure white snow blankets the earth just outside.

#I miss writing about this man #simon ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x reader #call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost riley #you’re the dog #cod simon riley #cod modern warfare ii #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you

[abyssruler]

imagine a royalty au where venti is the reclusive king of mondstadt. no one else in the kingdom besides his closest retainers have ever seen his face, preferring to keep himself anonymous. you’re a helper at the local tavern, serving drinks and occasionally tending to the bar. there’s a bard that always performs in the tavern, and while everyone cheers and claps to his songs, you’re the only one who approaches him after the performance is over, asking him about his songs and what inspired him to write them, genuinely curious about him and his interests. and venti, who’s only ever been told by countless people as he grew up that music is a useless subject for the future king, slowly finds himself looking forward to the days where he can sneak out of the castle to play a tune for you, his heart warm at every praise that leaves your lips.

when venti suddenly asks what you think of king barbatos, you answer with how much it’ll lessen the people’s worries if he showed more of himself in public, reassuring everyone that he’s well and still there to lead monstadt. a week after that conversation, barbatos suddenly walks out of his castle and into broad daylight, a gleaming crown on his head that left no doubt about his identity to any onlookers.

there’s a knock on your door. the smiling face of the bard you’re so fond of greets you, along with what is possibly the entirety of mondstadt watching over his back, everyone eager to get a glimpse of their reclusive king.

“venti…?”

“barbatos, actually, sorry for the lie. but feel free to call me venti! it’s what my friends call me.” he sheepishly scratches his head, nearly dislodging the crown that costs more than your entire life’s worth of savings. “i’m not really one for theatrics, but you said it’d be great if i showed my face in public, so here i am!” he spreads his arms out like a gesture asking for a hug. “so, anyway, what do you say to lunch this afternoon? i did promise to repay you for all those drinks at the tavern.”

#king venti brainrot grrr #i love when he’s in a position of power so publically ^3^ #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #venti x reader #genshin venti x reader #royalty au #gn reader #genshin shorts #genshin imagines

[sweatervest-obsessed]

In Your Dreams, Whatever They Be - Part 1

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (uses she/her pronouns)

WC: 11,223

TW: Alcohol, violence, stabbing, boats, spiders, sarcasm, jealousy, trauma, trauma bonding, blood (and lots of it), nightmares, Vecna, mentions of death, smoochy kisses, mentions and flashes of past traumas, Billy Hargrove gets mentioned, brief allusion to second base, graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions in general. If I'm missing any please please please tell me and I will happily add them!

A/N: So this was supposed to be a quick and easy 4k one shot, and now I'm in a two parter, rewatching the series to try and make it as accurate as I can be. I forgot how himbo Steve really is. It takes place starting with s4 e5, and it goes to s4 e7 or 8, I don't remember. This is based off of my favorite song of all time, and the fact that they used it in this show makes me so unbelievable happy. I hope y'all enjoy this one! any and all constructive criticism is welcomed and wanted!!!

Part 2

“What’s going on in there?” Steve gently rapped on your head with his knuckles, “hello? Anyone home?” 

He watched as your eyes shifted back into focus, looking at him. 

“It’s nothing Steve.” 

“Yea and I’m the queen of England.” 

“No need for the attitude,” You grumbled, sitting up, attempting to get off the boys bed before 

this turned into a full blown thing with interrogations and prodding in places you didn’t want Steve to see at the moment.

He softly said your name, grabbing your wrist and rubbing his thumb over it. “Will you please talk to me?” 

Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact. A soft inhale and exhale to remind yourself to calm the tears before giving Steve a smile. 

“I’m seriously okay Steve. If it was something that was actually worth anything, you’d be the first person I told.” 

He contemplated your answer, studying the way you wouldn’t look at him. “Pinky promise?” 

You looked over at the clock on his night stand before jumping up and dusting off the proverbial dirt from your thighs. 

“Actually, I, um, I have to go—Steve. Um. I’ll see you later!” You quickly grabbed your bag off the ground of his bedroom floor and quickly made your escape down the stairs and out the front door. 

Steve flinched as it slammed shut and sat there, pinky still outstretched wondering what the actual fuck just happened. You never ever ditched him like that, let alone ignored a pinky promise. 

You, on the other hand, were suffocating. The room had suddenly become too suffocating and Steve—sweet, lovely, kind, perfect Steve immediately noticed, and you just couldn’t let him go poking where he didn't need to be. 

Your headaches had started to come back, but it was nothing new considering your period was about to start anyways. And the last thing you wanted to do was make Steve all worried about some stupid little headache—

“Oh for fucks sake.” You grumbled again before turning right back around on the porch and storming back into his house again. 

Steve had just made it down the stairs when he collided with you in the hall, the door slamming shut a second time. 

“What are you doing—-“ 

“We made that stupid Fucking New Year’s resolution for a year of no poor communication. So. I’ve been having headaches.” 

“…..headaches?” 

You nodded and ran a hand through your hair. 

“Yeah.” You whisper, now suddenly feeling a lot less confident about the situation. 

Steve was silent, his mind racing a million miles an hour. Out of all the people in the world, he absolutely downright refused to let you become the next mangled body. He had seen Eddie’s face when he relieved what Chrissy had gone through, and he had seen Nancy after they had discovered Fred; for fucks sake he was there when Max was levitating in the cemetery. He couldn’t lose you. He seriously couldn’t lose you. Because he didn’t know what he’d do with himself if you weren’t with him. He’d loose his fucking mind—that’s what he would do. He’s become some crazy old man like Murray or—-

“Steve.” You took his hand in yours and narrowed your eyes. “Are you listening to me?” 

Steve shook his head and squeezed your hand. “I said, I usually get them the week before my period, and they’re right on time. But with the whole….” 

Steve nodded and looked at your hands together, eyeing the ring you wore on your pinky finger—a pinky promise to him that you always wear.  

“But.” You yanked his hand a little bit to make him focus back up on your face. “Because of everything going on I just didn’t want you to freak the fuck out. But that’s what’s been on my mind.” 

Steve let out a shaky breath. “Yeah…yeah okay I just…” 

“I know.” Even when you could potentially be in true, real danger, you managed to stay level headed, or at least put up a really good front; it’s what Steve admired most about you, and simultaneously loathed about you. 

“I know everyone is at the Wheeler's house but do you want to make them come over here?” 

Steve squeezed your hand in response to your question, his voice still gone. Somehow snatched away with the rest of his mind from the moment he realized you could be taken from him. 

“Okay, do you want me to call them?” 

Steve was a very physical person. He showed his love through actions—getting an eyelash off your nose, buying your favorite flowers, and so forth. But he truly showed his appreciation for someone through small touches; a hand on a shoulder, the squeeze of a hand. But when Steve pulled you into a hug, you were a little surprised. He may love small actions of touch, he rarely was one to give hugs or full body contact, even to someone he has loved for a long time. The boy was getting more and more self conscious ever since the Fall of King Steve and the Bullshit of Nancy Wheeler. 

“Steve I promise I’m okay I promise.” 

“But what if it’s not just any headaches…” he whispered into your hair, tightly holding onto you, terrified to let you go. 

“The second I start getting psycho visions or freaky nightmares, you’ll know okay?”

“Y-yeah.” He sighed, just holding onto you for a bit longer. You rested your head on his shoulder, forehead against his neck, and slowly started to sway with him, trying to drag his mind away from the pit he was dragging himself into. 

He complied, still drowning in ‘what-if’s’. He listened as you started to softly mumble a song to yourself as the two of you stood in the foyer of the Harrington Household, sunset peaking through the windows. 

“Stars shining bright above you, Night breezes seem to whisper I love you, birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me.”

Steve focused on the sound of your breathing, the beating of your heart, the low hum of your voice. 

“Say nighty-night and kiss me, just hold me right and tell me, you’ll miss me”

“I should be comforting you.” He grumbled, as you continued to sing and sway. 

“While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.”

“What’s the name of the artist again?” He whispered 

You stopped short and looked up at him, taking only half a step back knowing Steve might lose his shit if you stopped being in direct contact with him. 

“Steven Harrington this is only my favorite song of all time, and you don’t know which version I like the most?! Jesus, you’d think my person would know that.” 

“Okay but that doesn’t answer my question.”  His heart fluttered a little bit when you called him your person. 

“You’re a pain in the ass.” 

Just as Steve went to sass you back, the phone rang, making him jump. Steve stared at it while you were looking at him, watching him flinch every time it rang. “You gonna answer it, or just stare at it.” 

“Well….”

“Steve.”

“I’d really rather not.” 

“It could be important, Stevie.” 

His insides started melting as you called him that. “I really don’t want to.” 

The phone stopped ringing and he smiled cheekily at you before taking your hand and bringing you out towards the patio, sliding the doors open with ease. 

“What are you…” 

“I want to keep dancing with you without any distractions.” 

You blush a bit and shake your head. 

“Okay hot shot. Show me your moves then.” 

“Only if you promise to keep singing.” 

The both of you stepped out onto the patio and closed the sliding doors behind you. He brought you around the pool to the small yard behind it, offering his hand once more. 

“You, Steve Harrington, are something else.” 

He slid his arm around your waist and took your hand in his. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” He whispered, kissing your head.  

“Depends.” 

“On what.” 

“Stars fading but I linger on dear.” 

You shrugged. And started swaying again, resting your head on his collarbone. 

“Still craving your kiss.” 

“Oh you crave my kiss huh?” 

You rolled your eyes and continued singing, smiling up at him. 

“I’m longing to linger till dawn dear, just craving this.” 

Steve cheekily kissed your jaw, causing you to smile and squeeze his hand. 

What the two of you missed was the consistent ringing of the Harrington Household phone, that stopped ringing after the fourth or fifth attempt. 

“Sweet dreams, till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me.” 

Steve took the opportunity to spin you around, interrupting your singing. Your laugh was music to his ears, besides the actual singing you were blessing him with. 

“Stars fading, but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss.” 

Steve leaned down and kissed you softly, interrupting your song. You smiled and kissed him back, tasting your cherry chapstick on his lips. 

“You stole my chapstick, I knew it.” You mumbled before swiping your tongue against his bottom lip. 

“Nuh, uh.” He whispered back, moving his hand to your jaw, pulling you a little closer to him. 

You were interrupted by the screaming of Steve’s name and the pounding on the front door. 

The both of you jumped apart, hearts pounding. You looked at Steve while he turned and looked towards the inside of his house. 

The both of you heard the strings of curses from a small army when nobody answered the door, followed by yells about where he kept the spare key, and why was it locked because it was never locked Steve let go of you, much to both of your dismays, before moving towards the slider, only to be interrupted by a “are you SERIOUS Hanginton?” 

Dustin’s head had popped over the fence near the edge of the woods, scaring the shit out of both of you. 

“What the hell Henderson!” You yelled, stumbling back into a chair. Your heel caught on the side, and the metal left a little gash on the top of your foot as you fell into the lounger, the definition of ungraceful. You let out a yelp as you collapsed 

“Shit, Shit, are you okay??” Henderson yelled, attempting to jump over the fence, and only failing slightly. 

Steve rushed over to your side, panicking since the last time there was blood near his pool, well….

You were examining the gash, taping it lightly and flinching at the sting. But then you saw Steve and immediately switched gears into calming Steve down, completely ignoring the blood dripping down your foot. 

“Steve. Hey.” You put your hand on his shoulder but Steve was freaking out. His eyes were wide, and his breathing was erratic. “Handsome, look at me.” You whispered to him, taking his jaw, aware of your audience. 

You loved touching Steve, and he loved touching you, in every way each other's minds could think of, but the two of you tried really hard to not be super all over each other in front of the others. It wasn’t that you were hiding your relationship per se, you both were just private people when it came to your relationship. You were both taking it slow, wanting to make sure everything was just right, earning trust and figuring out one another without the influence and nosiness of your beloved friends. They knew you had at least kissed a couple of times, and were official enough to hold hands in public, but what they didn’t know was that you had been dating each other for over a year now. In fact, you were sure this was it for you—your endgame. You felt such an all consuming love for him, and he knew it too. He was terrified of the ways you would go to bat for him, which is why the sight of your blood near his pool sent him into a slight panic attack. But your touch sent a little shock through his system and he looked up at you, eyes wide and a little manic, lips parted. 

“I’m okay. We’ll just get a bandaid or tw—“ 

The next minute unfolded to be one of the most overwhelming both you and Steve had experienced. First, Henderson had finally scaled the fence and fell over it with a thud and a loud yell. Then, Nancy shoved open the sliding doors, which meant the rest of the kids, and Robin were probably in tow. Dusting had managed to run over to you and started to freak out about your foot, panicking outwardly like Steve was panicking inwardly. 

Nancy finally made it over to the both of you, but only looked at Steve.

“Steve? What the fuck! Where the hell have you been? Y/n wasn’t answering her phone and so Max and Lucas went over to her house—“

“Nance…” 

“and her mom said she was at work but she hasn’t been at work because I was just there and she didn’t take over for me and——“

“Nancy.”

You squeezed his hand. 

“And then you weren’t answering your phone and we called so many ti—“

“Holy shit what the fuck happened to your foot!?” And there was Robin, kindly interrupting Nancy’s ramble. 

Nancy whipped around and looked down at your now slightly blood soaked foot. It was seriously nowhere near as bad as it looked, but because you had been free bleeding trying to help Steve and then everyone burst into the backyard, your foot looked worse than it was. 

“Oh my god!” She squeaked out, thinking back to Barb, and looked at Steve. She noticed his panic and decided it was her responsibility to fix it. 

“Hey Steve?” Nancy knelt down next to him, which made you inhale sharply. Nancy had been….well. Ever since Jonathan had moved to California, she was a bit all over the place, and everyone knew it, including Nancy. Her emotions were running wild, and she had been eyeing Steve again. You were far from jealous, knowing how much Steve loved you since he reminded you over and over and over again. But there was something about the way she was eyeing him, the way she reached out to him, that made your trust waiver—not in Steve, Never in Steve, but maybe in Nancy. 

Steve caught the tail end of your inhale, and looked up at you, his eyes still not focusing a hundred percent but he was trying for you. 

“Can you go get some bandages for my foot Nance?” You asked, squeezing Steve’s hand again, trying to ground him while also trying to politely tell Nancy to back the fuck up. You looked over at her and gave her a smile, as if to say that you got the whole Steve situation under control. 

She eyed your hands before nodding, and heading off into the house. As she had walked into the house and up the stairs, Robin corralled all of the kids mumbling that the show was over. Dustin put up a little bit of a fight but Max and Lucas had dragged him inside and closed the sliding doors. All of the teens did their best to pretend to not look out at the couple on the patio, whereas Robin was casually trying to not stare at the two of you through the kitchen window. Everyone was extremely curious about the secretive couple. 

You squeezed his hand again. “Steve. I need  you to listen to me. I’m okay. It’s just a cut on my foot.” Your other hand came up and slowly took his other hand, hinting that he should be next to you on the lounger. 

Steve obliged, mind still far away, panicking to no end, conjuring up the worst endings he could possibly imagine. 

You gently took one of his hands and placed it on one of the pulse points on your neck. 

Robin had snatched Nancy from exiting the house, shushing her as she tried to justify going back onto the patio. And even if she managed to get through Robin, Dustin and the others would not have let her through anyways. 

Robin had shared a look with Dustin, examining the scene before them. Almost no one had ever seen Steve this vulnerable, and actually no one had witnessed the two of you have such an intimate moment together, collectively making everyone in the house question whether or not they knew either of you at all. 

You were taking slow breaths, letting Steve not only feel your pulse beneath his fingers, but also your breath. It caused him to slowly start to match your pace, chest moving slower and hands stopped shaking. His eyes started to focus in on you again, the hint of a grateful smile ghosted across his lips before it fell under a frown of complete self deprecation. 

“Shit, baby I’m so sorry.” He whispered, not moving his hand from your neck quite yet. “I-I just…it reminded me of…”

“I know, I know.” You whispered. “But it’s just a small cut, and I’ll let you give Henderson the talking to of a lifetime, once I know you’re back with me, yeah?” 

Your eyes had been monitoring his, watching for when he was fully back in the present. Steve nodded and placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, I’m here all week.” You teased, before sighing and looking down at your foot. “It’s definitely not that bad but I do want to clean off my bloody foot.” 

Just then, Nancy made her way back onto the patio, with very upset Dustin trailing behind her. Dustin looked so guilty, and so apologetic, and Nancy looked….upset? Mad? Jealous? Whatever it was, Nancy was doing a good job of making it not as important as fixing up your foot.

“Oh thank you so much Nance.” You smiled at her, only faltering slightly when she only responded by giving you a tight lipped smile,  dropping the first aid kid on the chair, and walking Back inside. 

You and Steve looked at Dustin who just shrugged. Whatever it was would have to wait. 

“So why were you people hunting me down?” 

“There’s been another….” Dustin looked down at his feet, and Steve took one of his hands and put it on the kids shoulder. 

“Okay.” You breathed out, taking the medical kit in your hands and digging through it to find all the necessary things to clean up your little wound. 

“ Y/N, I’m really sorry. I-I didn’t mean to—you know. It was a total accident.” Dustin gushed at you and you just smiled in response to him. 

“It’s all good Dusty Bun.” You joked at him, while the kid tore himself into pieces, feeling fucking awful. 

“Shit happens. It’s okay. It’s not like you snuck back here with the intent to injure me….unless.” You smirked at him, letting Dustin’s cheek turn bright red and he shook his head vigorously. 

“No. No. I would never do that to you—“

“She’s joking Dustin. It’s okay.” Steve tried not to laugh at the poor boy, watching as his face fell into a slightly more comfortable expression. 

“Dustin, can you go and round everyone up in the Living Room, so we can talk about everything?” 

Dustin nodded and started to run off before he stopped and turned towards you again. “Promise you’re okay?” 

“Cross my heart and hope to die, kid. I’m all good.” You took your finger, crossed your heart with it and lifted it in the air. “Steven Harrington as my witness.” 

Dustin cracked a smile before going back inside and trying to round up everyone into the Harrington's living room. 

Once you had properly bandaged your cut, you sighed and cast a quick glance at the patio doors, noticing only Max and Lucas lingering, but still giving you all the privacy they could with a glass door. But Lucas was solely focused on Max, making sure her headphones for her Walkman were sitting just right on her head. 

You turned and kissed Steve, soft lips on his. “Are you okay?” You whispered to him, letting him lead the kiss, giving him the control he needed to regain in that moment before facing the troops. 

Steve gently swept his tongue across your lip, allowing him to deepen the kiss a bit more. He sighed so prettily into your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“I will be, yea. I just….” You nodded and pulled away from him. Steve glanced over at Max, noticing the headphones and his face fell flat. He had been the one to hold her close when she collapsed outside of Billy’s Grave after floating in the air. And suddenly it was you he was cradling, unconscious. 

“What’s the artist?” 

“What?” You gave him an incredulous look, turned and looking where his gaze was set on Max. “Oh Steve, I don’t think—-“

“Please.” It was so soft, and pleading. Your heart broke as he looked back at you. 

“The Mamas and The Papas.” You said softly, tucking a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

“Dream a Little Dream of Me, right?” He squeezed your hand once more as you nodded. 

“Alright.” He sighed and kissed your head before getting up. The two of you could rest when you’re dead, you figured. You stood up with him and brought the first aid kit back in with you. 

Once everyone was back in the living room, the rest of the day was a whirlwind. Lucas was telling you about the fact that Carver and his teammates were hunting down Eddie and anyone who tried to help him. 

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

At some point you found yourself stuck in the back of Nancy’s car. Then, you found yourself stuck in between an argument between a mother and his son about Skull Rock. 

“Yeah well it wasn’t popular until I made it popular, alright?” 

You snorted at that one, while Steve turned towards you, slightly horrified about admitting that in front of you. But you knew King Steve, and it wasn’t like you were unpopular. You were one of those people that managed to fly under the radar by being on everyone’s radar. Nice to everyone simply worked best, especially when it meant you got to kiss and tell without it ruining your life. You smirked at Steve before turning to Dustin. 

“But he’s right though Dustin. It’s over that little hill, on the right, past the two trees.” You slowed down to break the news to Dustin, Max moving to catch up with you, both of you snickering to one another while the rest of the gang looked at you, seriously doubting their knowledge of you at all. 

“Stop gawking Harrington, and move those legs. Let’s roll.” Steve fixed his pace and trudged ahead, eager to prove his best friend wrong. 

You and Max just observed the two. You had been Max’s babysitter since she moved to Hawkins. She was definitely too old for one, but her mother insisted, and she would have much rather spent time with you than with Billy. She was your little sister, your everything, the Dustin to your Steve. You were the one who got her so addicted to Kate Bush in the first place. So when Steve had told you about Max floating into the air, you almost caused several accidents driving from your house to the Wheeler’s, where Max was being kept safe.

 The two of you were giggling about the bickering between the two idiots when you heard Steve and Dustin ahead of you. 

“Bada Bing, Bada Boom, There she is Henderson. Skull Rock, in your face man.” Steve pushed past the both of you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “In your stupid, cocky little face.” 

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“Yeah, Yeah, even when it’s staring you right in the face, you can’t admit it. You just can’t admit that you’re wrong, you little butthead.” Steve smugly stared up at the rock. 

Two boots landed on the ground, right next to Dustin. “I concur. You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.” 

Dustin started jumping up and down before rushing Eddie into a hug. “Jesus, we thought you were a goner.” 

“Yeah, me too man.” Eddie mumbled, looking over at the rest of you wearily. You watched as Steve and Eddie interacted like some sort of divorced parents in the parking lot of a McDonald’s before deciding to ease whatever tension the two of them had going on. 

You smiled and waved at him, “Oh my god, is that the serial killer Edward Eddie “The Freak” Munson, leader of the Hellfire Satanic Club,” 

Max let out a snort, before trying to cover the giggle seeping out of her mouth. 

 “You’re funny there princess, you know that?” 

“Oh I do, Edward. How are you.” You mumbled, patting his back, while you eyed Dustin, who was losing his fucking mind over his compass.

Steve was not the jealous type, or he liked to pretend that he wasn’t. You were a kind person to every single person you met; somehow every single person in the world knew you, and yet nobody had a vendetta against you (to his knowledge) or anything awful to say about you. But it was moments like these, when Eddie called you Princess, or got a little too close, where he would start to tense up. 

“Better now that you’ve brought yourself, and also some food.” He hastily grabbed one of the paper bags from Nancy and grabbed one of the flasks filled with water, drinking almost all of it. 

“When I got to shore, I tried calling you guys but uh, my walkie was busted, man. Drenched. So uh, I did the thing that I do now, apparently. I ran.” A sardonic smile spread across his face, and he shook his head, looking down at his hands. 

“Do you know what time this was, the attack?” 

“No i -i- I know exactly what time it was.” Eddie takes the watch off his wrist and tosses it to Nancy. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing to get soaked.”

“9:27.” 

Robin’s eyes lit up. “Same time our flashlights went kablooey. 

“Which means what exactly?” Steve chimed in.

Nancy sighed, looking down at the watch in her hands before tossing it back to Eddie. “That surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.” 

“Well, we’re one step closer–we know how Vecna attacks.” You mention, watching Dustin pace back and forth. 

“And where he attacks from.” Lucas added on. 

“So now we just need to sneak into his layer in the Upside Down and drive a stake through his heart.” Max sighed, crossing her arms. 

Robin mumbled quickly, “If he even has a heart.”

“A stake is he like a vamp–is he a vampire?” Steve’s eyes widened.

“Oh Steve, babe.” You sighed, pinching your eyes.

“Itt was a metaphor.” Max scoffed in reply to him. 

Eddie looked up from the ground and towards Max. “Uh bullets work on him right?”

“I say we chop his head off.”

“That’s great Lucas.” You muttered, not fully believing this conversation was happening. Steve on the other hand looked at Lucas with a “What the fuck” type of look. 

“Yeah I’d say all of the above, but we can't do any of that until we find a way into the Upside Down.” Nancy sighed. 

“We need El to get her power back.” You nodded in agreement with Max.

“Everything was wayyyy easier. We had this girl, she had super powers–”

“Superpowers, yea, you mentioned her.” Eddie cut off Steve with a nod before peering over at Henderson.  

“Hey uh, Henderson’s not cursed is he?” 

Steve shook his head. “Cursed, no no, he’s fine. Mental? Absolutely.” 

Just then Dustin raised his arms to the sky, turned to Steve and Screamed the word Boom, at the top of his lungs. Everyone flinched at the loud sound, but your head had started to bug you the second you had found SKull Rock, and you weren't one to say anything, but Dustin screaming at the top of his lungs definitely wasn’t helping. 

“Bada. Bada. Boom.”

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

And just like that, the day sped up again. Your head continued to bug you all the way to the lake. He had noticed that your head started bugging you halfway through the walk to the shore, holding you hand and quietly whispering the lyrics he remembered from the song earlier, just to you. It made your heart melt a little, just how much he cared for you. It was a bonus that it calmed him down in the process. 

“What is Mordor?” He whispered to you, watching as the shore grew closer. 

You laughed softly and shrugged. “There's this book series called Lord of the Rings.” You answered back to him. “And the heroes leave The Shire to go to Mordor to stop the big bad.”

Steve let out a little “huh”, and nodded. The little green monster known as jealousy came back full force. Of course you would know what Eddie was talking about. Of course that was something else Eddie had over him. “And you’ve uh, read this series.” 

“Yes Steve. All four books.”

“Did you like them?”

The questions surprised you. It’s not that Steve didn’t like the things you liked, or didn’t care about what you liked, but this was an interest that you simply hadn’t mentioned because it didn’t seem in his wheelhouse. “Ye-Yeah…why do you ask?” 

You looked at him with a curious smile on your face, and Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. If both you and Butthead up there like it then…”

You stopped and kissed Steve on the cheek. “You’re adorable Steve.”

Just then, Dustin sprinted forward, yelling about the fact that something was happening. Eddie managed to save him from stepping into the lake, when Steve ran up ahead. 

“You gotta be shittin’ me.” He huffed and turned and looked back at you, exasperated. 

“Yea. I thought these woods were familiar.” Eddie’s tone was flat, and disparaging. 

“Lover’s Lake.” Robin sighed, staring out at the water. 

“This is confounding.” Dustin muttered, looking back and forth from the water to his compass and back again. 

“There’s a gate in Lover’s Lake?” Max looked over at you. 

Nancy spoke next, “Whenever the Demogorgan attacked, it always left an opening. Maybe Vecna’s the same way.” 

“Yea, only one way to find out.” You grumbled, also not exactly happy to see the lake. 

Eddie pulled back a tarp to reveal a little boat, definitely not big enough to fit all of you. Once Eddie and Steve had gotten the boat in the water, Robin climbed over the two of them. Eddie went next and helped Nancy get into the boat as well as you. All four of you looked at Dustin, who tried to get onto the boat. 

“Hey, Hey, you trying to sink us?” Eddie shoved Dustin's head back a little and shook his own. “The boat holds four people, tops. okay?”

“It’s better this way, okay?” Nancy walked over to try and comfort Dustin.

And you agreed. “You guys stay here with Max.You keep an eye out for trouble.” 

Dustin was flabbergasted. “You keep an eye out for trouble.” 

You gave him a look considering he just snapped at you, but he only continued. 

“It’s my goddamn theory.” 

Robin leaned over. “You heard Nance and Y/N.” 

Dustin just rolled his eyes. “Who put them in charge?” 

“I did.” Robin sassed back, watching as Dustin tried to process everything that was going on. 

“Compass.” Nancy held her hand out as a very, very upset Dustin reluctantly placed the compass in her hand. 

“Hey. There ya go.” Steve threw the backpack at Dustin before pushing off of the shore with the boat, jumping in at the last second. 

“You said Four!” 

Steve whispered a “sorry” to him as the group began to paddle out towards where Patrick died. 

Robin smiled at them, “Bedtime at nine Kiddos.” in which Dustin just flipped her off. Robin just stood up and waved, “Miss you already.” 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. 

As you all sat on the boat,slowly paddling through the darkness of Lover’s Lake, when suddenly Nancy yelled out. “Woah Woah Woah, slow down guys, slow down.” 

All of you leaned in and looked at the compass, it was spinning in circles, no actual direction. 

All of the sudden the walkie lit up and spoke: Guys what’s going on. Come on guys, talk to me, what’s going on.

Robin picked up the call, still staring at the spinning dial. 

“Uh Dustin your compass has gone from wonky to Wonky with a capital ‘aah!” 

“Steve, what are you doing?” Nancy’s voice reached your ears, and everyone immediately snapped their heads towards the boy who was starting to undress. 

“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out.” He pulled off his other shoe and sock. “Unless one of you three can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years then…It’s gotta be me, no complaints. Alright.” That last section ws slightly more aimed towards you than anyone else, but you just stayed silent. 

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.” Eddie looked around at the water uneasily before taking one of the flashlights wrapping it in one of the plastic bags they had brought. It was better than nothing. 

Steve pulled his shirt off, and that’s when you caught Nancy staring. This time, you were a little more upset at her openly staring at Steve’s half-naked body. Robin looked between you and Nancy and made a little face, deciding to wait to ask any and all questions to you once Steve was gone. 

“Hey.” Eddie handed him the flashlight. “Good luck.” 

Steve nodded. “Thanks.” Before looking at you and giving you a small smile, meant to be an apology. 

Robin pulled a cigarette from out of Eddie's mouth, mumbled a “gross”, and chucked it into Lover’s Lake. 

Steve stared straight ahead psyching himself up. 

“Steve?” You couldn’t help yourself. 

He looked back at you. You had a horrible feeling about this. Yet you held your tongue because there was no way that Steve “The Hero” Harrington was going to risk anyone else’s life, and trying to talk him out of it was like trying to convince the sky to turn purple—it wasn’t going to happen. All you could offer him was something to maybe calm his nerves. 

“Be careful.” 

You all sat there, each of you doing your own thing to not think about the fact that Steve was under the water. 

“Where are we at Wheeler?” Robin asked, bouncing her leg up and down, glancing from Nancy to the water and back again. 

“We’re closing in on a minute.” Nancy responded with a slight air of worry. 

“Come on Steve.” You mumbled, still watching the water. Robin placed a hand on top of yours and gave you a small smile, just trying to provide at least a sense of comfort even though her best friend was down in the depths of Lover’s Lake. 

When Steve popped up, you all jumped. Eddie yelled slightly with an “Oh Christ!” But you immediately reached your hand out to him, which he was more than willing to reach for. 

“I found it.” 

“You found it?” Nancy piped up before Steve smiled, trying to regain his breath. 

“I found it. Yeah I found it.” He smiled, and unlike the rest of this day, the next thirty seconds seemed to go by in slow motion. 

Steve was hanging off the edge of the boat, still trying to regain his breath before he would climb into the boat, still holding onto your hand with his own. 

“Dustin, you’re a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the Gate. It was right where you said it was.” 

Steve was panting. “It was pretty wild. It’s more of a snack-sized gate than a mama gate.” Reference Robin from earlier. “But still, it’s pretty damn big.”

Steve’s head was pulled under the water. All of you moved towards him, trying to get him onto the boat. He resurfaced, a concerned look on his face.

Just as he reached for you, Steve’s face dropped, and he was pulled under. Nance, Robs, and Eddie all yelled out his name, screaming for him to come back. You immediately pulled off the jacket you had been wearing and dove straight into the water, no hesitation. Nancy, Robin, and Eddie then started screaming your name. Your new white converse had been covered in mud and now they were soaked in murky water as you swam for your life to get to Steve. You watched as he was pulled into the gaping portal beneath you. You watched as he was dragged through the water with ease. You swam faster, pushing through the gate not even ten seconds after Steve. 

Your lungs were burning. You fell to the ground with a hard thud, groaning as you tried to ignore the large bruise that would be all along your thigh and shoulder. All of this while trying so desperately to breathe but the air was suffocating. You managed to stand up, and looked around for Steve. Red lightning struck above you both, maybe five hundred feet apart. 

That’s when you heard it, the screeching. Your eyes managed to locate Steve before they were moved to the sky as the creatures started to surround the both of you. You watched as he ran towards something on the ground and picked up an oar, hitting one of the bats that swooped down on him. You ran towards him, picking up a second oar, and started batting, fighting your way to each other. 

Then, you saw Steve get swiped off his feet. A bat around his neck, and two others circling, ready to go in for the kill. Steve kept trying to swipe them off but was starting to fail. He let out a blood curdling scream as his body convulsed on the ground beneath your feet. 

Your blood ran colder than Lovers Lake. You ran towards him, listening as he screamed your name, crying out helplessly for you as they tried to feast on his abdomen and while one was slowly strangling him. 

Anger and panic filled your body up to the brim as you came closer to him. You hit two home runs before you slammed the oar down on one of the bats, eating away at Steve’s stomach, and blood splattered up and across your entire body. You’d be pissed about your clothes if you weren’t already so enraged at the thought of the pain Steve was in. There was blood scattered across your face, and you could taste it on your lips. Dustin might have called you badass if you weren’t so fucking terrifying.

You didn’t notice as Nancy, Robin, and Eddie barged through the portal, and immediately started beating the shit out of all of the remaining bats that tried swooping down on the group of you. 

Instead, you continued bashing in the body of the bat next to Steve. Robin had started watching you, slightly scared of the force you used to bring the oar down onto the bat. But all you could see was Steve. His mouth was open but no sound was coming out as he struggled to breathe, trying to pull the bat's tail away from his neck. You gave it one final blow to the head and watched its body give out beneath you. 

Just as you went to thwack the head of the bat suffocating Steve, something wrapped around your ankle. You dropped to the ground as the bat swiftly pulled you down, bloody oar out of your grasp. 

Robin and Nancy were to take care of the bat that was strangling Steve, Eddie continuing to swing at any bats in the air he could. 

“Nancy behind you!” She turned around and thwacked the bat that came at her before she delivered one final blow, releasing Steve’s throat as it went limp. 

A blood curdling scream left your lips as one of the bat’s bit down into your thigh. All you could see was white and red and all you could feel was white hot pain. The teeth tore through your flesh like butter, and it might have had some sort of venom dripping from its teeth because the exposed flesh felt as if it was melting off your body. 

Steve had managed to rip the bat off of him, and tore it in half with his mouth, willing to tear the bat limb from limb, but then he heard you scream. Steve always assumed he would freeze because in his nightmares he would watch as the dogs tore you limb from limb, or as a demogorgon dragged you into the depths of the upside down, and he would freeze watching as he let you die. 

But not this time. 

His body raced towards you, ignoring the sharp rocks and fuck else that would stick into his bare feet. The adrenaline in his body caused him to pick up the oar you were dragged away from and bash the head in on the bat digging its teeth into your thigh. You were screaming, you were screaming for Steve. His mind clouded with rage as he broke the oar in half and stabbed down, impaling the bat and leaving it stuck to the ground of lovers lake. 

There were tears streaming down your face, as Eddie and Robin helped pull you up and away from the dead animal laying next to you. A sob escaped your lips as you put some weight on your right leg. 

“Jesus Christ, Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie screamed at the sky, still trying to hold you up. 

Steve’s breathing was labored as he stood above the bat’s bloody carcass. He heard another sob escape your lips and immediately snapped his head towards you, but just as he took a second step towards you, the screeching of bats over head caused all of you to look up at the sky. 

“Shit shit shit.” Eddie muttered, looking around trying to find a spot for cover. 

“There’s not that many, we can take them.” Steve huffed, still running purely on adrenaline and spite. 

Another bellow of screeches came from the sky across the barren lake. 

Nancy ran over to you and gently squeezed your shoulder, luckily the one that wasn’t bruised. “We need to find cover. Now. Can you make it if Eddie and Robin help you?” Her eyes search yours, simultaneously checking for your inevitable concussion based off of the way you dropped to the ground earlier. 

You just whispered out Steve’s name, eyes starting to close. 

“Hey. Y/N. Look at me. He’s okay. He’s alive okay? I need you to stay with me for just five more minutes, okay?” Nancy was starting to freak out the more you drifted in and out of consciousness. She turned to look at Steve, who was shutting down on his own, his own adrenaline starting to wear off. 

“Eddie, Do you have Y/N?“ Nancy practically shoved Robin towards him while wrapping your arm around his neck while he supported you. “The more people that help her the better.” 

Steve had reached out to help but Nancy shook her head, “ I need you to focus on finding us Skull Rock, and not collapse while holding her. Got it?” 

Steve stared at Eddie, his frame supporting you, and huffed before nodding. 

Once everyone had secured their position, you all quickly made their way towards Skull Rock, well as quickly as you could possibly be. Eddie spent the whole time whispering how proud he was of you and how badass you looked and how good you were doing while walking, all of the encouragement and little jokes you needed to stay awake and push through the pain to get to get under the rock. While Robin was freaking out about Rabies, which was so extremely helpful of her, thank you robin!

Once you had all taken cover from the bats, you leaned against the wall, just trying to breathe again. That’s when Steve started to lean on the wall, and eventually collapsed to the ground. 

“Steve?” Nancy immediately stood up and made it to him in record time. 

You would have turned bright green if you weren’t starting to pass out on your own. 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” He grumbled, slowly sliding down to the ground. 

“No no no, you’re losing blood. Shit.” Nancy had ripped her skirt to provide some bandages for Steve. 

“Steve?” You mumbled before, your legs gave out, Eddie managing to catch you. 

“Shit Shit shit.” He started panicking and looking at Robin, who in turn started panicking again. 

“Nancy!” Robin yelped, kneeling down next to you trying to keep you awake. 

Nancy took one look at you and turned back around to Steve who was trying to get up and reach for you. “Steve, I need you to stay still.” She turned back to Eddie and Robin. “You need to rip her jeans!”

 “No no no, hey. Stay with me. I need you to stay awake Y/N.” Robin whispered, squeezing your hand. All she could think about was dying by animal bite, which was so not comforting for any one involved. 

Steve gasped as Nance tightened the bandage. Once it was secured he scrambled over to you. 

“This is going to hurt baby, I’ m so sorry.” He mumbled to you, before gently taking the places where the Bats had broken through and ripped the jeans, creating one short leg. He pulled the bloodied pant leg down, trying to avoid the gushing wound on your leg. As quickly as he could, he tore up your jeans and started using it to wrap up your thigh, causing you to moan in pain anytime he would come near it, which resulted in a string of sorry’s coming from him.

You managed to take a look at Steve, covered in makeshift bandages and Eddie’s vest. If this were any other time, you’d make a quip to only him about how hot he looked but instead all you could do was slur his name and keep your head tilted back against the rock, doing your best not to pass out from the pain. 

“Shhhhh baby it’s okay.” He whispered, as you whined again when he tightened the bandages. 

All you could do was whimper and lean your forehead against the rock. At least it was cool to the touch, providing some relief for you. Your breathing was becoming more and more labored as the minute passed, and all Steve could do was whisper to you as it happened. 

“I cant…” you mumbled to him, the first coherent words besides his name that you uttered since the boat. “I’m so tired.” 

Steve shook his head. He finished tying the bandage before placing one of your hands on his pulse point, and his hand on your own, refusing to let this happen. 

“Fuck. No no no. Y/N hey. I need you to stay awake, pretty girl. Come on.” His voice quickened and his eyes quickly flitted to Eddie and Nancy and Robin. 

“We have to.  We have to go. Now. She can’t.” Steve was trying so hard not to cry, and was barely making it through a full thought before the next one came. “Fuck. How are we.”

“Steve, I don’t know if she–”

Nancy had never been scared of Steve before, but the look he sent her made it clear that whatever thought she had should not be said out loud. 

“We need. To find. A way out.” He said through gritted teeth, listening to your breathing get slower than he’d like. 

You hear him call your name once, and then twice, and then the next four hours of your life are all a blur. 

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

You awake on Nancy Wheeler's couch in the Upside Down, while Steve is screaming into the abyss at Dustin. 

Your head is pounding and you groggily go to sit up, but immediately get hit with a wave of nausea. As soon as you do make it up you keel over and start coughing, dry heaving really. 

All four heads snapped in your direction, and Steve dropped the Lite Brite on the table, rushing over just as you start to feel the bile in your throat. 

Steve quickly dragged over one of the stupid little trash bins that Mrs Wheeler kept around the house that the Upside Down had magically decided was necessary, and placed it in front of your face before grabbing most of your hair. 

His efficiency was appreciated since you started to vomit into the trash, your head pounding and your throat burning. 

Once you had thrown up everything in your stomach, plus what felt like your actual stomach, you gagged a bit on the air in your throat.  

Steve was rubbing your back and mumbling soft words while you were still hunched over. 

“Morning Princess.” Eddie called from the dining room, and while you didn’t have the energy to give him some choice words, you did have enough energy to flip him off quickly. 

Steve shot him a look but Eddie only let out a chuckle at your antics. Clearly the brink of death suited you well since your sense of humor and your attitude were still intact. 

“Why were you yelling at a lamp?” You eventually managed out, voice hoarse and almost completely gone. Robin had come over with a water bottle they had found in the fridge of the neighbors house. 

“I thought you were gonna die.” She whispered to you, in which Steve turned his glare towards her instead. 

You gratefully took a sip of the water, swallowing it before it immediately was rejected by your stomach, which causes you to vomit it back up into the trash bin. 

You winced at the sting on your throat, and Steve winced because that wasn’t a good sign. 

“Thanks Rob.” You send her a quick, but soft smile. She quickly took your hand and squeezed it, knowing that was all she was going to be able to say without starting to cry. “If you….well. I think I would’ve had to kill Steve because he would've been so unbearable.” 

Which causes you to giggle slightly and nod. “I can see that happening.” 

“Guys!” Nancy yelled over, giving you a very relieved smile, “we’re heading to Eddie’s Van in ten. There's still the kids' bikes at the house still so we can take those.” 

Steve stood up and had a lot to protest but you just pulled his hand, causing him to look at you. “Steve. Really, I’ll be okay. We just need to get out of here.” 

The others dispersed, getting ready to leave, letting you and Steve have a moment to yourselves. 

Steve sat back down next to you and kissed your hand. “I—, you looked so hot beating the shit out of that bat.” He joked, causing you to muse a smile at him. “I know right. Sexiest murderer around.” You jested back.

“You….” Steve swallowed down the lump in his throat and let you see the tears building up in his eyes. “I—“ 

“But I’m all good. I promise. My head still kind of hurts though. Guess we’ll have to play period, concussion, or Vecna.” You tried to joke, but Steve just sent you a glare. 

You sighed, and what you did next was for mostly your benefit, partially for Steve’s benefit, and slightly to piss off Nancy who was pretending like she wasn't watching you both from her kitchen alongside the other two. 

You kissed Steve. It was simple, and quick, but mostly it was reassuring. 

He hummed slightly before letting you pull away. “Even after you ripped a bat to shreds with your mouth, you still taste like my fucking chapstick.” You laughed softly before looking down at your legs. You were no longer in your jeans, but in a pair of Nancy’s shorts. Your leg had been bandaged a lot better, but you knew the second you got back into the real world, you would need to get the disinfection of a lifetime. 

“Does Nance have any alcohol?” 

Steve gave you a look. “I don’t think now is the time to start drinkin–”

Much to Steve’s chagrin, you stood up. A groan left your lips as you put weight on your bed leg. “Hey Nance? Where does your dad keep the good stuff.” 

She looked up at you before running off to go get exactly what you needed. 

“It’s going to numb the pain Steve, and I love you, but right now, I need to not feel my thigh so I can ride a stupid bike over to Eddie’s stupid van.” 

Steve shook his head and stood up. “Look, Y/n,” he sighed. “I really don’t want to fight but–”

“Then don’t, Steve. This is not your call to make right now. Just. I need you to trust me okay?” 

Steve huffed. “Fine.” before he walked off into a different room. 

Nancy slowly came in with a bottle of scotch from her father’s liquor cabinet. “Hey…”

“Shit, Nance. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” you mumbled, sitting back down on the couch. 

She shook her head and sat down next to you, uncorking the bottle and handing it over. “How…How long have you guys been together?” 

You took the bottle, and took a swig, letting the liquid burn your throat. “God this is awful.” You coughed and laughed a bit with Nancy as she cracked a smile. You offered her the bottle and she gladly took a swig. 

“I would also like to know.” Robin piped up, moving and sitting on the floor in front of the both of you. Once Nancy took a swig, she handed it to Robin. 

“Oh, fuck. It’s uh…What is it, March?” The girls nodded and you sighed. “A year, give your take.” 

Both of their jaws dropped. “I’m sorry what!” Robin’s eyes were wide open. “Since when!”

“Since like February of 85 Rob, get it together.” You took the bottle from her and took another swig. 

“Holy shit.” Nancy mumbled, realizing she needed to reevaluate her entire life at this point. “Why didn’t you tell anybody?” 

“Well, we had just started dating, right, and we wanted to take it slow really try not to fuck it up, ya know?” You took another swig before handing it back to Robin. “And we were gonna tell everyone but then Starcourt happened and uh. Getting the shit beat out of you by Russian thugs, and being forced into taking a truth telling serum really makes for complicated relationship updates to your friends. And Steve had just graduated and was really trying to figure his shit out—I don't know. Honestly, it never came up, nobody asked.”

Robin took a swig and shoved the bottle into Nancy’s hands. “Well I thought he was just pining after his best friend, who is waayyyyyy out of his league if I’m being so honest right now.” 

“Thanks Rob.” Steve mused from the doorway, leaning against the side of it while Eddie just stood there, arms crossed. 

“You guys started partying without us I see.” Munson interjected, with a smile on his face. 

Robin turned bright red before shaking her head. “Steve I—”

“Don’t apologize. I mean she is quite literally so out of my league, it’s a miracle she even likes me, let alone loves me.” 

You sent him a wink, while Eddie and Robin passed a look between the two of them. Nancy just took a slightly longer swig of the alcohol. 

“We need to get going.” Nancy mumbled, standing up and walking into the kitchen. 

“Is she okay….” Steve whispered to you, coming and offering you his hand to help you stand up. 

You shook your head. “She’s been going through a lot lately, and I think she’s trying to figure out all of her feelings. She’ll be okay.” 

He kissed your head before looking at the others in the room. "Let's get going then, shall we?" 

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

Your head was throbbing. It felt like it was split open. One moment you're standing with Steve, watching Nancy climb up the rope, the next you're falling through the air. With a sudden thud, you land on the ground, and scream out in pain. Your leg was so fucking sore, and your whole body ached as you stood up.

You look around and realize you're back in the parking lot where the mall was. You see something laying on the ground further away, watching as the vines around you pulsed. Slowly you took step forward and then another before you left out a gasp. There was Billy, lying just how you remembered him, on the ground. His body was covered in vines and a slug slowly started to crawl out of his mouth. You stumbled away from him, trying not to sob, looking around for anything.

Do you remember what you did, y/n?

You look up towards the sky, trying to find where the voice was coming from. Flashes of your last moments next to Billy as he died in your arms while Max watched. 

Or have you already forgotten.

Flashes of Steve’s lips on yours, Max floating in the cemetery. 

When I kill someone...

Another of Max sobbing into your chest, Billy's screams in your ear, Steve’s hands on your body. 

I never forget.

The Mind Flayer stabbed through Billy’s chest. Blood poured out of his mouth as he looked at you.

Suddenly vines started to over take the parking lot, from all sides. You spun around, panicking, trying to find a way out. You ran past a few cars, ignoring the shocks of pain through your system. Once you had run far enough away, you realized that it was no longer the parking lot of Starcourt.

You were suddenly standing on the staircase of the dilapidated old Creel House. A clock ticks, floating by you, as you slowly start to descend, eyes frantically moving back and forth. Your chest was starting to close up.

I see you've been looking for me Y/N. You were so close. So close to the truth. How was old, blind, dumb Victor.

You reached the bottom of the stairs, and spun around slowly, still trying to locate wherever he was.

Did he miss me? I've been meaning to check back in, but I've been busy.

You look to your right, and there's Chrissy's mangled body, vines clutching it. Her jaw was wide open, her eyes were gone, and you could see the snapped bones.

So very busy.

You watched as a door formed in front of you, the Creel House, except it was brand new. You watched as the little girl walked by you, claiming the house was a fairytale.

You stared at the gaunt little boy in the corner of the foyer, eyes dark.

He watched you back, and your whole body shivered. You slowly followed him through the house, watching as he made his way to the bathroom, and took off the grate. You turned away once you realized what he had been holding in his hand, unable to face something you so grotesquely hate. 

Suddenly a boy went past you, and you followed him into the attic. He had created this sort of altar, filled with candles and little jars filled with Black Widows. He was just a child. 

You wandered down the stairs, and watched the boy watch the clock in his foyer. The ticking of the clock rang in your ears, and all you could do was stare at this boy. The anger festered and festered and festered.

A shrill scream caught your attention as you turned around, suddenly in the yard, watching as the young boy caught and tortured a bunny. Its screams rang out as he reached out, not touching the animal, and slowly started to destroy it. Your chest was heaving as you ran back into the house, slamming the door closed, not wanting to see another moment. 

You watched as a crib, covered in fire, rocked itself in the fireplace, infants screaming all round you. The fire lit uo Henry’s face, eyes closed, moving back and forth underneath his lids. 

Suddenly, as you turned around, you heard music. Ella Fitzgerald’s voice rang through the halls. 

Stars shining bright above you. 

You let out a strangled sob. This was your favorite song. The family sitting at the table was formally dressed up. It must have been a special occasion for all of them to have looked so cleaned up for a family dinner. The Radio started moving between stations even though no one was touching it, but Henry was looking at it. 

The lights started to flicker. The radio couldn’t hold down a station. Everyone was suddenly on high alert, trying to figure out what was happening. Your voice was stuck in your throat as you watched the mother float up into the sky, her bones shattering and splintering as her eyes bled. She landed on the table with a thud, causing you to jump back. Vecna has a sliver of blood draining from his nose. You watched as he murdered his sister, and then moved onto his father. Lights flickering. Radio shattering. But then he collapsed on the ground. His father was quickly arrested and blamed for the murders of his wife and daughter. 

You watched as this boy was subjected to the tortures of Dr. Martin Brenner. You watched as he was tattooed, branded, with the mark of 001. 

“See? Not so bad. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Doctor Brenner said, looking at 001. “Is there Y/N.” His head turned towards you and you took a step back. 

Why Don’t you take a seat.

And you ran, You sprinted as quickly as you could to get away fromBrenner, from Vecna. The hallways were filled with the dead bodies of guards, the screams of the children held hostage, the lights flickering. It was carnage. The blood smeared against the walls caused you to just freeze. You tried to run the other way. You tried to run as far as you could. 

Steve was screaming in your face. He had both of his hands cupping your cheeks begging you to come back to him, to stay with him. His heart was racing. All he could see were your eyes, rolled back into your head, your body just unresponsive. It was his worst nightmare come true. He screamed at the others to hurry up, just shaking you and begging you to come back to him. 

“Please Y/N, fuck. Please, stay with me. Come back to me. I can’t–you need to come back.” 

Erica had run into the other room trying to help the rest of the team speed through all of Eddie’s tapes. “Steve says you need to hurry!” 

“Yeah no shit!” Yelled back Dustin, while Max screamed that they couldn't find anything useful. 

“Seriously what is all this shit.” Robin was just throwing tapes, trying to find the right one. 

“What are you even looking for!?” Eddie yelled back. 

“Madonna, Blondie, Bowie, Beatles. Music We need MUSIC.” She yelled at him. 

“This IS MUSIC!” Eddie screeched back. 

You were running as fast as you could through the damp hallways. The walls were never ending and they were painted in blood, so much blood. You had to maneuver around bodies, all the while looking behind you, trying to out run Vacna. Your eyes were stinging from the air of the Upside Down, and your lungs couldn’t keep up. The exit had been nailed shut, covered in boards. Your panic was setting in as you looked around, trying to find any answer. You kicked and pulled at the boards until one came loose. As you got your hands around the second one, a voice came from behind you. 

Y/N. 

You slowly turned around, shaking. There he was. Vecna was slowly stalking towards you, like a predator watching its prey. 

What are you doing? It’s not time for you to leave. 

You clutched the door handle, praying to whoever out there that would listen to help you. You keep yanking on the wooden plank. Another one came off as you started to yell. The third one was looser but refused to budge. He kept coming closer to you. 

Now that you’ve seen where I’ve been. 

And closer. 

I would like very much to show you where I am going. 

And closer. 

You managed to get the final one off before you shoved through the doors, using all of the will power you had left. But suddenly you were no longer in the hallway, it was the same room you had just been looking into. 

Dr. Brenner stared at you, eyeless. “Take a seat y/n.” 

The lights flickered out, and all you could hear was your breath, terrified to even move.  

When the light’s came on, you realized you were strapped to the table. The straps were pulled so tightly, you were starting to lose feelings in your fingers. You struggled against them, unable to be freed. Vines had wrapped around your legs, chittering away as you started to cry, thrashing around, trying to get out of the chair. They were slowly coming up your arms, getting tighter and tighter. You couldn’t move. Vecna was across from you, stalking towards you once more. You couldn’t get out, you couldn’t move. You couldn’t–You couldn’t even think straight. He kept coming closer, and closer and closer. You tensed up, letting out a whimper as he slowly leaned in. 

I want you to tell Eleven. I want you to tell her everything you see.

His claw came up over your face and flashes of lights filled your minds. Steve dead in your arms. The town cracking and being swallowed whole. The clock tolled. Your friends screaming your name as Vacna took them one by one. Splits in the earth throughout everything you knew and loved. You screamed out, struggling against him. Another clock chime. More death. More Destruction. 

Tell Her. 

“No!” You screamed back at him, tears streaming down your face as you continued to struggle. Max dead in your arms. Lucas laying on the floor in front of you. Robin tore to pieces. Cracks in the earth. The clock tolls again. Vines covering your home. 

Tell Her Everything.

You scream at the top of your lungs as his claw presses against your face. 

You inhale and suddenly stumble back away from Steve’s grasp, tears start to stream down your face, as you collapse to the ground. Steve immediately catches you. 

“Woah woah woah. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He cradles you against his chest, as you struggle to breathe, panting and sobbing. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m right here.” 

You stare up into Steve’s eyes, paralyzed, and for the first time, Steve doesn’t know what to do. 

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[honeeslust]

Kento Nanami | the 7:3 Sorcerer pt. 1

🖤 Someone once said he didnt seem like the type to be rough with you because he'd never want to hurt you and I agree…. To an extent!! Let's go…

🖤 I'm thinking of Nanami who doesn't look like the the type to be a ruthless fuck. But what would happen when he finally showed you that he is fully capable of surprising you and himself.

🖤 WC 2k+

The love you made always sensual and romantic. By far the best you'd ever had. But there was a certain darkness to him. You'd seen it plenty of times as you often found yourselves in dangerous predicaments due to his line of work. It started feel like an unspoken desire between you both. You, wanting him to let out every frustration and all of the anger he kept inside. Him knowing how much you wanted to submit to him.

But ever the knight he was, wanting to protect you, even from himself. Always refraining from getting carried away because he would never be able to forgive himself if he did.

You would have no choice but to take the matter in your own hands. You would know him better than anyone else and all he would need is the encouragement. So...

You would spend the entire day teasing him, dressing in front of him, rolling your tights up your legs slowly. Strutting around in your cute little matching brassier and garter, feeling his eyes on you after you brushed by him leaving your sweet smelling perfume mingled with your pheromones wofting about to rouse him.

Kento would look so dreamy with his messy hair and bare chest on display. He would tug at a newly formed bulge straining against his pajama bottoms that hung low on his waist, showing off those tight little dimples at his lower back, that V shape in the front inviting you to have a seat atop his perfect form.

A powerful hand adorned with tight veins resembling the lines on a road map were reaching after you. " Cmere, you smell so pretty," he says As you let him wrap you up in his arms.

" you look stunning my love." You melt under his praises, adoring how he always made you feel so loved and cherished.

Hating that you would have to break up this loving display of affection, you summon the strength to do it anyway. " I have an early start today baby, and I gotta hurry." his endearing smile would touch the rugged creases around his eyes, them being the only thing about him that showed he was older. The man aged like fine wine and you were already being swept up in his warm and charming self. You would hate the way you were leaving him so painfully engorged as you untucked yourself from his arms.

As much as it would pain him to watch you walking away from him when he very much needed you, he wouldn't dare risk you having to rush into work.

You met him downstairs, both fully dressed and ready to go. It was more of the same mixed feelings about how far you could actually take this. Preparing his favorite cup of coffee, you grit your teeth trying to hold on to your resolve.

You were handing him his coffee and briefcases, one for paperwork, the other for his weapons. Placing your hands on his shoulders, he beamed at you as you reminded him of how you continued to fall even more in love with him every single day. He replied with his usual promise to be someone worth that kind of love. You hurry out the door, forgetting his kiss.

The only thing that made your day tolerable was that it was actually a very busy one, having a full day of clients and only a small break in between. You remained diligent. Instead of your usual call so he could hear your voice and take a breath from the stress of his day, you would text him on his lunch break...had to squeeze in another client baby, so sorry I can't call. Your heart would ache as you stared at the screen.

At the other end would be a flustered Kento, raking an exasperated hand through his blonde locks. I understand. I love you and I just wanted to thank you for being my better half.

You grip the phone tighter in a trembling hand almost ready to abandon your plight completely. You couldn't leave it at that, tapping out a response, oh you make me swoon. I love you Mr. Charming, recalling the first time you called him this. He would smile at his phone, your message reminding him of a time when he almost let you go.

It was after you went on a couple of dates and when you admitted to your suitor hat you likened him to all the Prince charmings you adored as a child. You remembered the way his sunny blonde hair fell over his face as you two walked barefoot along a beach, a beautiful sunset, his loose buttoned shirt ruffled by the breeze. The date ended in him panicking as he had fallen for you immediately. He was honest, telling you about his profession and actually trying to break things off before it got too serious because he would never want his life to affect you. He thought it best to just let you go.

...

A little over an hour later, you were heading  home to change after reading his text saying that he would be at the office late. You spent the drive reminiscing on a time from so long ago. You getting so mad at him for not giving it a chance. Looking back, you'd know now that he couldn't help it because he adored you so much and did it out of love, even if it were almost the end of you both.

Even after all of that, you'd be ready to hit him where it hurt. Showing up to workplace wearing a scant little dress in the color he favored most on you. His favorite late night snack and scotch in hand to unwind for the evening.

You knock at his office door before entering. His boyish gleaming eyes greet you when he looks up from the paperwork. He stands to hug you, his rigid shoulder's immediately relaxing as he was just so happy to see your sweet face after the day he'd had. You kissed his cheek asking if he had time for a break, showing him the bag you carried. He cocked a questioning brow, a soft smirk pulling at his lips as if he'sever turn you away. " even if I didn't, you know I'd always make time.”

As you unpacked your tote, setting the glasses and tiny plates on the the desk, You'd ask him about his work, flashing him a desirable look as you fixated on the way his temples flared while he discussed the events of his stressful day. You'd feel for him, almost wanting to give up your little ploy to get a rise out of your ever in control husband. You pour the dark liquor into the glasses, taking the tiniest sip of yours as does he. Him smirking as you frowned at the way the liquid burned, your face flushed as you felt that usual tickle between your legs where it always seemed to hit you first.

You would lean over his desk, giving him a perfect view of your cleavage as you pointed to different things, asking him more questions as his concentration was being tested. You would because you knew it was only you that could get him like this. He wouldn't be able to look past the way your body looked leaning over his desk. The way his name rolled off your tongue when you'd softly whisper it.

Your antics would earn his invitation to come around to the other side of his desk. His powerful hands would pull you into his lap, no doubt, your favorite place to be. You straddle him and he placed a needful grip around your waist. You loved the way his thumb always seemed to rest in just the right spot so that when he squeezed, it had you closing your eyes and pressing a heavy kiss to his appetizing lips.

You'd suck the smoky taste of the scotch from his tongue, moaning as his hands explored the slopes of your soft body. Your insides coiling with pleasure when he shoved that dainty dress further up your thighs. A sudden gasp would fall from your lips and you'd shove yourself off of him, escaping with some flimsy excuse of why you shouldn't do this here.

Kento would be flushed a shade of desire like you'd never seen, but still you'd attempt to make your exit. His pulse would be racing as he sought after you. And that's when you would know he'd finally reached his tipping point. It would've all finally become too much. He would need you so bad that the growing frction in his pants screamed from the sudden absence of your heat.

His powerful hand would grip the back of your neck, causing a shiver to roll up your spine. He would pull you back into him and as soon as your body would meet his own chiseled one, you would cry out to him. " ahh Ken". The tremors that rocked his body were being felt along your back.

" What are you up to? You just keep teasing...what are you you doing to me?... why'd you put on this little fuckin' dress?" You lean into this new feeling. So enticed by the sudden change of him that you could even feel texture of his velvety voice that was laced with a darkness he hadn't ever shown you, at least not in this way. His fingers skim up and over your bare thighs. His nose ghosting over the curve of your shoulder as he breathed you in. He squeezed a hand full of your waist " you're that desperate to get a rise out me baby?" He'd hiss seeing through you now.

" Yes" you would sigh yielding to his touch.

" Yes?? be specific love, you were so eager to see me like this and here we are so tell me what you want?"

" Kento,I want you mean when you fuck me." You would hum, nails cutting into his thighs as you pushed your body into his.

" Bend the fuck over." He would growl, his deft fingers loosening his tie as he shoved all the desks contents to the floor. You would be so on edge that the loud crash would make you jump.

Your trembling body would lean over the smooth polished surface of his desk. Every breath you took would be drawn out shakily. Anticipation wouldn't even feel strong enough a word to describe how maddening the need for his touch, his mouth, his dick, even his vengeful release when he'd finish having his way with you.

Kento had always needed this even more than he knew. Always so refined and in control. You willed him to with a heartfelt plea " show me why you're the 7:3 sorcerer."

The man you adored would be lost in the essence of you and your dark desires. The need he felt to tear that pretty little pussy to pieces would take over. He wouldn't know how to hold back that part of him anymore. Not when your body was calling to something so carnal inside him. He would shove his hands under your dress, ripping the stringy little excuse for underwear away from your body.

Your excited squeal would have him at your ear again and you would welcome the crushing weight of his body as it were leaning over you, his torso flush against your back. " you sure you can handle that?"

His solid muscular thighs would rub against your own milky soft ones. " I'll take whatever you give me Kento." you'd say as the skimpy dress you wore was now indecently bunched around your waist revealing the warm and inviting wetness that awaited him. The sight of you starved and begging for more encouraged the once stoic man to give in to the need to break you in the best way.

A massive hand would push into your lower back, forcing that perfect arch upon your shape and leaving your drenched little pussy vulnerable. His sheathed cock would be teasing against the aching core of you while those manly fingers traced down your spine.

" Give em' to me" he would command so sinisterly that he didn't sound like himself. Your arms would fold neatly behind your back because you knew exactly what he was asking for. " was this what you wanted?” He would ask you, almost sounding pained by the way your meek demeanor had stirred him so. It would feel as though your body was steeped in sexual tension. A pleasing hum of need would now be a current flowing freely through you.

" Please Kento. I'm sorry, I just thought it would be a fun little game." you would beg so hungry for his dick that you would've come immediately if he gave it to you.

Skillful fingers would loop the silky printed fabric around your wrists with ease. " Spread em for me," you would obey. " Such an obedient doll."

He had put up with your antics all day. But a man can only take so much. And here you were, every bit the desperate cumslut and wanting him to use you as he needed.

Heated fingertips would trail your womanly terrain, slowly, skillfully, enticingly. " since you're so into games, let's see how good you do. Tell you what, I'm going ti return the favor. For every time today you left me with my dick in my hand." he would say embellishing a little as he thought of all the ways you tortured him.

" .. like this morning, you think I didn't notice the little show you put on...?" He would work your delicate body with hands meant for destruction, and this would excite you further. You gasp his name, avidly being overtaken by his raw desirous energy as two thick fingers went inside, pressing into your g spot so effortlessly. " ah—kento." 

" I had to spend the whole day thinking of the picture of you bouncing around our house and leaving me lusting after you like some horny teenager." Kento was a little crude now, and your dark little mind loved it. " I'm so sorry baby." You panted.

You become a puppet, dangling at the end of a string he controlled with every shameful twist of his finger inside you.  Every curl would be precise, almost excruciatingly so until you were ready to come. As soon as the weight of your release was ready to come crashing down, suddenly there was nothing to be felt. You wail, " mmmm ohh my God Kento please more, I need more baby."

Gone was your sweetheart when he groaned, a laugh fanning the wetness pooling out of you as he circled the rounded shape of your ass appreciatively. " more you say?" He whispers as his digits melodically slip between the drenched folds of you. " mmmmmm my little doll wants more, should I give it to her?" He hum sinking his fingers back inside. Your chest heaving against the solid desk as you cry out " mmmm oh my fucking god baby please please please.” The mean man playing in your pussy laughs. " but...then there was you forgetting my kiss. I can only assume that was on purpose ?" He hums full of enjoyment at how good it felt as your walls were constricting against his appendages as he began the slow build again.

Again you were left shuddering, " please, please baby, I need it." Gone is all of his tenderness. It were replaced with an almost selfish satisfaction when he taunted you. " oh baby, believe me, I know you do." He would tease, grinning from the way your desperation had your little hands twitching against your restraints of his tie.

Again and again he does this. Leaving you hovering on the edge just to be denied the fall. Coming back with his vengeful fingers to start all over again.

He would make sure you'd felt every agonizing moment of the absence of himself inside you.

" baby please." You call to him with your weak cries for him to let you finish. It was torturous, and you embraced every wretched moment of it.

" so needy you are, so delicious you are, so obedient you are." He coos gentler than before, his voracious appetite making it hard not to test out the turbulent waters he had created. " I wanna be your good girl daddy." This shakes him to the core and he growls " say that again, I liked it."

" let me be your good girl daddy, please oh please, I want you so bad Ken."

I'm so sorry but I have to break this into two parts.

👉🏾👈🏾 thoughts 🙈

Part 2

From the honey pot 🍯

@callm3senpaii @blkkizzat @i-literally-cant-with-this @littlemochabunni

#smut oneshot #smut writer #smutxanime honeeslust #kento x reader #kento x you #blackgirlswhowriteanimesmut #kento fluff

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! This is my first ever request and I’m so excited 🤩 Could you please do Ambrosia and Coriander with Wrecker?

I love the character trope “A falls first, B falls harder”, so maybe fem!reader A and Wrecker B?

Fireworks

Summary: You make fireworks for a living, just like your parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. You love the colors and the explosions. And when you meet Wrecker, who loves many of the same things that you do, you hit it off. You fall first...but, as it happens, he falls harder.

Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader

Word Count: 2377

Warnings: Heated making out

Prompts: Ambrosia - love is reciprocated, Coriander - lust

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: SO! This is my first time writing Wrecker, and I'm not sure how I did. So please if anyone has an opinion on it, please let me know.

You smile warmly up at Wrecker, “I appreciate you going out of your way to help with this,” You say lightly as Wrecker sets the crate on the floor.

“It’s not a problem, I was there and happy to help.” His grin is wide, “Besides, I’m kind of curious as to how you do this.” Wrecker adds as he gestures around you. “I’m sure Tech could walk me through it, but it’s not quite the same as seeing it for myself.”

“You’re exactly right! Tech is very clever, and I’m sure he could give you the bare bones details, but a lot of this is passed down through oral tradition.” You place your hands on your hips, a proud grin lifting your lips, “And, my family has been making fireworks since before space travel, so I’m something of an expert.”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” Wrecker teases, “Are you sure you want this crate here?”

“True! Explosives are explosives, whether they’re for show or for destruction.” You fold your arms, “And yeah, I have to dig through it to sort it properly anyway, so better to leave it here.”

Wrecker looks around a little more, “You guys seem busy.”

“Well, the fireworks festival is happening soon.” You point out, “But really, this is nothing. You should see us in the week leading up to the festival.” You grin at him, before you crouch to enter the code to unlock the crate, “Of course, the payoff is definitely worth it, in the end.”

Wrecker opens his mouth to say something when a shout from the second floor distracts you both. Your older brother and your father are screaming at each other, and you sigh. “I should go deal with that.” You stand, “Thanks for the help, Wrecker, I mean it.”

“Sure.” He eyes the screaming men, “You want me to stick around-?”

You laugh, warm and bright, “My brother and my father are both just too stubborn for their own good, but there’s no danger here. I promise.”

Wrecker eyes the screaming men for a moment longer, and then turns his gaze back to you, a grin crossing his face, “Well, if you’re sure.”

“I am. Thank you though, you’re sweet.”

“Ah, well…” His face heats slightly, “I try.”

A giggle falls from your lips, he really is too cute, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Wrecker watches you for a moment longer, as you hurry up the stairs to defuse your brother and father’s fight, and then he leaves out the way he came in. 

It’s been almost a year since Wrecker and his brothers settled on Pabu with their younger sister, and they’ve since made a home for themselves here. 

You met Wrecker about eight months ago.

It had been an accident, you hadn’t been paying attention, and he hadn’t been paying attention and the pair of you crashed into each other. You weren’t hurt, but he did manage to knock you to the ground, simply because of how much bigger than you he is.

At the time he had been so apologetic and worried about hurting you, that he spent a whole ten minutes apologizing to you. It took you another fifteen minutes to reassure him that he didn’t hurt you, and that the scrapes and bruises that you were covered in happened before he ran into you. 

After that, you seemed to bump into him everywhere, though you never actually ran into him again. 

Slowly, over time, you and Wrecker developed a close friendship. You’ve come to cherish him as a close friend, and are more than happy to spend your free time with him. 

Well, okay, that’s not exactly true.

You do consider him a dear friend, but you also want more. You’ve long since fallen in love with him, but you’re hesitant to ask for more than friendship. After all, if he doesn’t feel the same, then you’ll have just ruined the best friendship of your life.

So you keep your mouth shut, and you enjoy the time you spend together, and you appreciate Wrecker’s kindness and warmth, and you silently pine over him, while hoping that he doesn’t notice.

The last thing you want is to lose your best friend, after all.

You rub the back of your neck as you hurry up the stairs to your family. You can think about this later, there are more important things to worry about.

It has been almost 6 weeks since the day that Wrecker helped you bring a crate into the warehouse, and the Firework Festival is almost here. Almost, in the sense that it’s tonight, and you’ve been running around like a maniac for the last week trying to get things in order.

In terms of relationship, nothing has changed between you and Wrecker…at least, you don’t think anything has changed.

These last couple of weeks, Wrecker has been acting odd around you. 

Seeming a little nervous and jumpy, unwilling to meet your eyes at times, and randomly changing the subject whenever you try to press him if something is wrong.

You’re beginning to worry that you’ve done something wrong, that maybe you said or did something that bothered him and he’s just too nice to call you out.

Stars, you hope not. That’s the last thing you’ve ever wanted.

Unfortunately, you’ve been too busy the last week to have a proper conversation with him. It’s everything you can do to manage a simple hi when you see him on the street before running off to your next chore.

And even with those small conversations, there’s still something off with how Wrecker responds.

You grip your comm for a moment, staring at Wrecker’s contact information for a moment, before you grit your teeth and take a risk.

Hey Wreck, you up?

Yeah, course. What’s up?

The Fireworks are tonight, you gonna watch them?

That’s the plan. Omega wants to watch them on the beach.

Ooh, that’s a good place. 

For a moment, you hesitate, before you type your next message.

I was going to ask if you wanted to watch them with me, but since you already have plans.

I’ll just watch them with my brothers

Wait

Wait!

I’d like to watch them with you

If the offer is available?

What about Omega?

Hunter, Echo, and Tech will be with her.

She won’t even notice I’m gone.

Where are we watching them?

On top of the warehouse, I’ll bring food!

You don’t have to do that

I want to. I’ll see you tonight!!

I’ll be there.

Some of your anxiety fades when Wrecker agrees to watch the fireworks with you. If nothing else, he still wants to be your friend. And then you jump when you hear your mother shout at you from the hallway of your apartment.

Kriff, you’re going to be late!

You roll, literally, out of bed, landing on the floor with a thump, “I’m okay!” You shout to your mother before you scramble to your fresher to take the world’s quickest shower.

And then you pull on your clothes, and hurry out of your bedroom while pulling your hair into a tail, “Sorry, sorry! I overslept!” You call to your mother, who shoves a breakfast sandwich into your hands as you balance on one foot to pull your boots on.

“Hurry up, everyone is waiting for us!” Your mother rushes you.

“I know, I know! I’m coming!”

Wrecker is nervous. Nervous with a capital N, even. 

He knows that he’s a big guy, he’d have to be blind to not see that. And he knows that he’s not as careful as, say, Tech or Echo. And he knows that he’s a bit too loud and a bit too exuberant, and that he’s not everyone’s cup of Caf.

He also knows that his pretty spark has been working herself to the point of exhaustion for the last week, and that she’s not had time to do anything for herself, and even so, she still made time to say hi to him every day.

Even when she’s covered in soot, and has dark circles under her eyes, and her hair is pulled into a messy knot because it hasn’t been washed in a week, she’s still the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

She still smiles at him like…like most women smile at Hunter, and stars, he loves her so much.

Echo figured it out before he did, because of course he did. He just flashed a small, sad, smile before teasingly telling Wrecker that when he fell for her, he hit every branch on the way down.

Wrecker figures that he’s probably right, he normally is about this kind of stuff, but it’s not actually helpful.

“Wreck,” Echo says, his voice gentle and kind, as he pulls Wrecker out of his thoughts. “You’re already friends with her, just talk to her.”

“But…what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, that’s a risk that you have to take.” Echo replies.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything-”

“Will that make you feel better?”

“...no.”

Echo smiles at him, “Go. I’ll cover for you with Omega.”

“Thanks Echo.”

Wrecker makes the walk from the house he shares with his siblings to the warehouse, and he uses the outside stairs to get to the roof. She’s already there, sitting in a comfy chair next to a table covered in various foods and drinks.

Her hair is loose and freshly dyed, likely to celebrate the festival, and she’s wearing a pretty dress that he’s never seen before. She looks…gorgeous. And somehow Wrecker falls even more in love with her.

Her gaze slides over to him, and a blinding smile crosses her face, “Wreck! You made it!”

“I said I would,” Wrecker replies as he steps onto the roof, “Has all of this stuff always been here?”

“Hm? Oh, I pulled them out of the shed,” She replies as she motions to a small building a little bit away, “But it wasn’t hard.”

Wrecker crosses over to her and sinks into another chair, though he hasn’t taken his gaze off of her, “I see you dyed your hair new colors.”

She laughs, “New colors for a new firework festival!”

“And a new dress?”

“Mother bought it for me. Do you like it?”

“It suits you.” Wrecker replies, finally averting his gaze to look at the food on the table, “Did you just hit up every fast food place between your apartment and here?”

“Mm, just about.” She falls silent for a moment, “Hey, Wreck?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I do something to make you mad at me?” She asks, and Wrecker’s gaze snaps to her face, she looks deeply anxious, “You’ve been acting…odd, these last couple of weeks. And I know I haven’t been a good friend, because of how busy I’ve been-”

“Woah, woah. Hold on. Did someone tell you that you’ve been a bad friend?” Wrecker asks, his brow furrowing, “Because you’ve been so busy this last week, that I was worried that you were going to collapse from exhaustion before the festival.”

“Well, no.” She admits, “but I can’t think of any other reason. You’ve been really nervous around me, and I can’t figure out what I did-”

“...you noticed that?”

“Of course I noticed, I’m not blind.” She sounds hurt and offended, “I just want to know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Wrecker hastens to reassure, “If anything, this is my problem.”

“Wreck, will you just tell me? Please?”

He exhales nervously, and rubs the back of his neck, “I…appear to have fallen in love with you. Hard. Echo says that I ‘hit every branch on the way down’.” He risks a glance at her face, and his heart sinks slightly when he sees the look of surprise, “And I just didn’t want to make you nervous. Or to lose our friendship.”

She exhales slowly, “Well, I can honestly say that I wasn’t expecting that.” There’s something strange in her voice, and Wrecker’s not quite sure what emotion it is. He’s never heard it before.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I don’t expect it, I’m happy with our friendship-”

She blinks at him, “Wrecker, that’s the thing, I do feel the same way.”

It’s his turn to blink at her dumbly, “You…do?”

“Of course. You’re so kind and gentle and handsome…plus you love explosions as much as I do. How could I not? I’ve been crushing on you for months now.” She admits with a small smile.

Wrecker just stares at her for a long moment, “Huh.” He finally says, “I…legitimately don’t know what to say to that. I kind of expected you to tell me to kriff off.”

She laughs, “I would never. Even if I wasn’t interested for some reason.” She considers him for a moment, and then she stands and walks over to him and gingerly settles herself on his lap.

Wrecker immediately slides his arms around her, and watches her curiously. This isn’t the first time he’s touched her like this, she’s a very tactile person after all, but she’s never sat on his lap before.

She flashes a small smile up at him, and then she leans up and presses her lips against his.

The kiss is soft and gentle…and shoots white hot desire through his entire body. He tries, he really does, to keep the kiss chaste and innocent. But the more she presses her lips against his, the harder it is to control himself.

And then she presses her lips to his one more time, and Wrecker just snaps. One of his hands tangles in her hair as he cups the back of her head, while the other one firmly grips her hip and pulls her flush against him.

He’s still careful to not hurt her, but even that thought fades to the background as she releases a soft moan when he nibbles on her lower lip.

His name falls from her lips in a breathy sigh when he pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, and Wrecker can honestly say that he’s never heard anything more arousing in his life.

At least, not until ten minutes later when she moans for him.

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb wrecker x reader #wrecker x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[keerysfreckles]

Hey again I was wondering if you could do a Joe Keery x reader where its their baby girls first Christmas and Joe's holding her showing her all the Christmas decorations in their house and then the Christmas tree which makes the baby in awe and her eyes get all big and she makes noises and grabby hands for the ornaments and then the reader makes cookies and hot chocolate for her and Joe and watch Christmas movies they also have a fire going on as well and it's just so domestic and cute and fluffy 🤍

christmas for three — joe keery

pairing: dad!joe keery x mom!gn!reader (no use of pronouns)

warnings: pure christmas fluff

a/n: i love christmas joe sm my heart actually hurts

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the week before christmas was always busy in your shared house with your husband, joe. this year was different however due to the new addition to the family; your daughter.

she had a wonderful birth, coming into this world as healthy as a baby can be.

december 18th came quickly for you and joe, meaning you only had a week to finish everything for the holiday season.

all the gifts were wrapped and in your closet, ready to be put under the tree. the three stockings were full by the fireplace.

what needed to be done was bake deserts for the christmas eve dinner at joe's family's house, and bake deserts for christmas dinner at your parents house. it was a lot to handle, but you always reminded yourself that it was worth it every year.

you were in the middle of making cookies, specifically for the christmas eve dinner. turning around to wash your hands, you spot joe and your daughter from your position in the kitchen. you smile fondly at the pair.

joe was holding your daughter in his arms, positioning her in order for her to see the tree. he was pointing to the ornaments in her field of vision, and you could barely hear him explaining what they meant to the three month old.

finishing the task at hand, you place the last batch of cookies in the oven, and set the other dirty dishes in the sink, promising yourself that you'd do them tomorrow.

joe turns his head at the sound of your slippers hitting the wood floor of the living room. you rest your head on his shoulder, and your heart only warms at the moment playing out in front of you.

"i think i'm putting her to sleep," joe laughs quietly.

you hold your hands out, "i'll take her to bed," you suggest, "i have to clean up in there anyway."

"are you sure?" joe asks, after handing your daughter to you, "you know i don't mind putting her to sleep love."

you nod, "i'm sure honey," you lean up and kiss his cheek before making your way down the hallway.

in fourteen minutes your able to set your daughter in her crib comfortably, with her blanket and stuffed animal beside her, and were able to quietly tidy her room.

you crack the door to her room, and are instantly met with the smell of hot chocolate.

entering the kitchen, your heart warms once again at the sight of joe with two mugs, full of hot chocolate and marshmellows. you turn your head and see all the dishes were now in the drying rack, and the dishwasher was running.

"i figured some hot cocoa would brighten your christmas spirit," joe handed you one of the mugs, before holding his hand on your lower back to lead you two into the living room.

you giggled once joe sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, and was holding his hand out for you to join him.

you stared lovingly at the man sitting across from you.

"what?" he asks, chuckling slightly before taking a sip of his chocolatey drink.

"you look so pretty by the fire," your voice is soft, but joe knows every word is true.

"i could say the same thing about you hun," he replies, which makes your cheeks warm and a smile adorns your features.

a minute passes, before you speak again, "can you believe this is our first christmas with a child?"

joe lets out an exasperated laugh, "it seems too good to be true. but before we know it she'll be in kindergarden, and bringing boys home, then going off to college."

the two of you laugh, "she's not even a year old yet joe, can we not talk about her growing up?"

joe nods, knowing the topic has made you emotional the few times you've joked about it.

he places a warm hand on your knee, and places his own mug down. he leans in slightly, making you meet him. just as his lips brush your own, his soft voice mumbles against your skin.

"i love you."

his lips finally meet yours. it was gentle and soft, not worrying about one fighting for dominance, or tongues getting in the way of the sweet moment.

you turn your head, deepening the kiss, and making joe move his hand to your cheek as you scoot closer to him.

"i love you," you repeat his words, after pulling away from the kiss.

#shelbi writes #joe keery #joe keery x you #joe keery x reader #joe keery x gn!reader #dad!joe keery #christmas fic #joe keery stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things

[adaptacy]

If you are taking requests, I have a pairing that I do not ever see enough of: Gale x Durge. Specifically resisting the urge type Durge. Starved for content as I am, I’d be happy with whatever is written about the two. But I’d love something involving Durge nearly killing their lover or the reveal of Durge being one of the orchestrators of the Absolute plot. In game, those scenes feel far too underdeveloped.

Durge playthrough spoilers blow the cut (Shadow-cursed lands, Last Light Inn stuff. No act 3 spoilers)

so, I haven't gotten to that far into my durge playthru but I did get to the part where you try and kill your lover and to nobody's surprise that happened to be Gale!! i was actually kinda terrified that he was going to die bcs, in my defense, I did try to kill Isobel but Marcus or whatever-his-name-was got the last blow on her first and I was devastated that Gale was gonna have to pay the price for my low damage roll. in the end ofc it was worth it cause he tied my durge up and, I mean, who's gonna complain abt that??

ANYWAYS point is, yes, I agree, I wish that scene was more fleshed out too and I am more than happy to oblige and build on the scene that we were given! Also fun fact, I hadn't actually confirmed the relationship with Gale when this scene happened but the night directly after I tried to kill him he showed me his... 'tower'. And given how horny he gets watching tav/durge beat ppl up in the shadow cursed lands, i do not think that was a coincidence LMAO

No Sceleritas here cause I'm just gonna get to the good part :D — also durge here is gonna be sorta resisting the urge, but has more or less been allowing it to fester, just not embracing it.

Gorgeous was an understatement.

Busy days — waking hours occupied by wars, sight filled only with the flashes of spells and showers of blood — were all you knew. Nights were barely any break. Smiles were more common at camp, but given the near complete lack of smiles outside of camp, it wasn't saying much. There wasn't much time to be at camp, as the original mission to rid yourselves of the tadpoles grew messier and messier with every passing battle, and each matter was more pressing than the last.

You didn't mind, really. While you were just as eager to get the incubating creature out of your head as the rest of your group, each new quest and mission brought along with it the promise of bloodshed. Adrenaline. Victory. A momentary but exorbitantly satisfying quenching of your thirst for violence. A thirst you first found unsettling and terrifyingly unfamiliar.

When you first found yourself gazing down at the bloodied body of a stranger, dreaming of the torturous pain they must have felt when they met their fate, you were disgusted. Couldn't believe where your thoughts had wandered.

You'd fought it. Refrained from telling the others for fear of being ridiculed, or losing their trust, or scaring them. For a while, you'd fought it. But scarlet liquids, screams of terror, and slaughter had become your routine.

And gorgeous was an understatement.

Peace. Security. Naivete.

One knee bent, the other lazily stretched out, the bedroll barely containing the length of his body. One hand under his head, the other by his side. His eyes were closed, the soft hazel only ever plagued by a buried longing was hidden from you now. His hair spread over one arm and on the thin straw pillow beneath his head, more messy than he'd ever let it be seen while he was awake.

His right cheekbone had a bruise on it from where he'd hit himself with the butt of his staff while swinging it, and you recalled finding time to chuckle at his mistake in the middle of the battle. Being a few feet away, he'd heard it, and couldn't help but look over at you, his cheeks red from more than the blunt force, his mouth pulled back in an embarrassed smile. The moment of shame had earned him a punch to the side from his opponent moments before Astarion managed to stick them with his own blade, saving Gale from a worse fate.

Even down here, far from the surface, it was warm enough — perhaps from the fire that burned a mere two, maybe three, feet away — for Gale to concede and discard his shirt, resting more comfortably in a pair of indigo pants.

He had been honest about his appetites. His cravings. He was hardly hesitant about revealing that part of himself to you — fortunately, he was plenty aware of the consequences that would be wrought upon you, and the rest of the group, should he risk being unable to consume artifacts if he kept his secret.

Even Astarion, who's affliction was much closer to your own, was honest about his needs. It took a lot longer, and you're not sure how things would have gone over had you not woken up the night he planned to feast on you, but his admission did occur.

You were aware of the risks of your secret. You always yearned for more, even when you were positively drenched in crimson, when you'd been messy enough in your strikes that bathing in the river the following evening caused the water around you to be tainted a diluted red. Everything was temporary. Even the satisfaction derived from fights that left your weapon with such thick clumps of gore that Gale had to hold the shaft while you scrubbed away, as if the fight itself hadn't been taxing enough on your exhausted body.

Yet they all remained unaware. Some picked up on it better than others; Lae'zel's compliments, however shallow they often were, had picked up in frequency as you allowed your hunger to get the best of you, undoubtedly giving you some heartless upper hand against the foes forced to face off against your party. Karlach found you delightful, affectionately doting over you as you imitated her own battle-induced rages, though she didn't quite pick up on your lingering stares or mild smirks when your appetite had been satisfied.

Gale was the closest to discovering the truth. Unsurprising, given your mutual favoritism for one another. When you'd butchered Alfira, you'd been quick to blame wolves. Shadowheart, immediately discomforted at the mention, believed you without a second thought. Lae'zel had jumped to blame the Tiefling's lack of defense. Astarion seemed unbothered at best. The others were too busy mourning the bard's early demise to ask questions.

But he'd found you later, kneeling by the river, just before bed. 'A devastating misfortune she suffered. A sweet, innocent soul. Misfortune is perhaps the only apt term for the loss. Terribly curious, it is — To be so savagely slaughtered by beasts that aren't even native to these woods.'

You remembered freezing, fear flashing in a quick rush across your vision, knowing his eyes were on you, studying your reaction. He was so close. You'd agreed — 'an unfortunate fate indeed' — and he'd said goodnight.

Never again was it brought up. Never again was it questioned.

And gorgeous was an understatement.

That was, perhaps, the worst misfortune of all. He had such undying curiosity about the world, and yet that curiosity never reached you, or your intentions, or your past. Too trusting.

The camp was quiet. Crackling flames, distant whispers from the shadows hanging just beyond the light's reach, and his soft, patterned, blissful breathing. His chest rose and fell, so helplessly gentle.

His staff leaned up against a rock several feet away, alongside with everyone's weapons, save for Astarion, who preferred to keep his daggers close. Today had been no different from the rest; the battles had been taxing, only seeming to increase in difficulty the further you wandered into the shadows. He'd given it his all today, and it had been worth it, as you'd managed yet another day without losing any member of your party. As he'd explained it, the more of the weave he manipulated, the weaker his spells got — at least until he was able to rest.

He lay before you, undoubtedly sapped by the day's events. Defenseless.

And gorgeous was an understatement.

Three bruises. One on his cheekbone, one persistent discoloration that sat in the middle of the dark mark of the orb, and one on his side where he'd been assaulted by the undead in his moment of distraction. In a blink, your fingers grace the bruise on his side, and they tingle. Being fresh, the blemishes swirl a deep purple into his light skin, nearly matching the tint of his pants.

Purple was his best color, wasn't it?

The twitch of your fingertips sends a pulse through your body, and you taste an itch in the back of your throat. The tadpole squirms, you can feel its short wriggle behind your eye, but its control falters. Some other sensation warms your body, easing you into a malleable, thinning consciousness, and your gaze trails slowly, drunkenly, over his torso.

Three bruises. Clear, stuck to his skin like the stars he so fondly recalls. So far from the view of the sky, and yet you find a constellation still. Another blink, and your right leg has crossed over his waist. However forgotten your past is, it grants you a waking dream, as vivid as reality; Gale Dekarios, laying under you much like he was now, his pretty face littered with prettier bruises that dot all the way down to his shoulders, his neck red and swollen, branded by the picturesque imprint of hands.

Your hands.

And gorgeous is an understatement.

It's distinct. The pulse of his arteries, teasing the gift of blood beneath his skin, purring under your fingers as they push, your thumbs hitched underneath his jaw, pressuring the veins. Your own heart is thumping, encouraging your desires, urging you to indulge.

You've tasted vindication like this before. When you awoke to the spectacle of Alfira's maimed corpse, there was serenity like nothing you knew possible. It came underlined by pride, your work preciously appalling, and you relished the piece, the art macabre and perfect.

The sweeter the canvas, the finer the design.

Gale was nothing if not sweet.

"My — Hardly the sight I was expecting to wake to."

Another blink, and his bruises are gone, save for the contusion on his cheek. Absent are the inscriptions of your hands on his neck, and his hazel eyes are revealed to you once more. Though you don't remember moving it, your hand presses against the black circle on his chest, palm pining for his throat.

You're unable to move. Unable to control yourself. Unable to win back your own consciousness. Gale props himself up on his elbows. His heart rate has picked up, and yet you don't sense fear. The curiosity in his eyes is familiar. The quirk in his left eyebrow and the smirk playing on the corner of his mouth is not.

"I do assume you meant to wake me, eventually. No harm," he says, gaze narrowing, and your lack of a response makes him huff out a chuckle, or at least part of one, as it only lasts a beat. Your eyes are pinned to his throat, reaching to find the comfort of your imagination's lens again, but your dream has been interrupted. At last, your eyes meet his, and it's the hazel that causes the tadpole to squirm again, awakening your senses once more. Gale moves one of his hands to rest on your waist, and his head recoils ever so slightly. "You look uncomfortable. What's wrong?" He asks, and you're able to sense a less pleasant curiosity, but it's still free of fearful influence.

"I'm going to kill you. You have to stop me."

His eyes widen, and still, there is no fear. He doesn't believe you. "A rather twisted joke... Not one I find particularly humorous. Albeit, humor is subjective, although–"

"I killed Alfira. You're next. No time – you have to stop me," you huff, and your confession brings on a raging headache, unlike any pain you've ever felt before. You lean forward, teeth grit as you groan, and Gale squeezes your hip for a moment. Though the reverberations in your head are overwhelming at the least, you finally catch a hint of fear from the wizard, and you're thankful for it. At least a part of you is, though the beast that brings on your headache is only bubbling to a rage, furious that you would dare turn against your thoughts. You've not committed a betrayal against your own conscience, but instead, betrayed your destiny, refusing some urge that is larger than yourself.

With what little remaining control you have, you push yourself off of him, and he's quick to rise to his feet. Your eyes squeeze closed, fighting the unwelcome entity with the rest of your energy, though given your excursions earlier in the day, that energy is quickly dwindling. Your knees press to the dirt, the heels of your palms pressing to your temples as you keel over, an aggressive, roaring nausea plaguing your senses, soon joined by an even more violent malignity that rips into your control as though it means to test you.

You want him dead.

A wonderful bath his blood would provide — A marvelous crack his bones would sing — A remarkable terror he could feel. He will suffer.

There's a firm squeeze on your arms as they're yanked behind your back, and you writhe, fighting your cravings as they fight your containment. The hold is followed by a burning scrape on your wrists as they are hastily, and uncomfortably tightly, bound by rope. Your head swings, but Gale manages to pull back in time, his reflex causing his grip to falter, and you fall to your side, rolling towards his bedroll.

He frowns, eyebrows pinched inward and he kneels in place, a few paces away, reading the situation and assessing just how much of a threat you pose. Gale glances at where Shadowheart and Karlach lie, still miraculously sleeping soundly despite the struggle occurring no more than two yards from where they reside. His attention returns to you. "Easy. Should you retain any control, I merely request that you refrain from indulging in... whatever your intentions may have been. Greedy as it may be, an explanation certainly wouldn't hurt."

There's a command, conjuring as a sensation rather than a verbal declaration, and it rings through your entire body. You're unable to decipher the apparition's ambition, but your muscles act nonetheless. It fights — you fight — against the rope, and there's a flare of savage discontent when you're unable to free yourself. "You're better off as my prey! You will suffer a purgatory worse than any of the hells could manage," you bark, and your words are not your own. The control he speaks of is entirely silenced, leaving you an unwilling vessel, forced to submit to the will of your past.

"Not the answer I would have preferred, but an answer nonetheless. Yelling will only stir the others from their slumber, and I predict they won't be as understanding as yours truly. You should consider taking up a quieter tone," he advises, and you growl, forcing rashes into your wrists as you wage a war on your binds.

"I will spill your blood before this night is through!" You yell again, and Karlach shifts where she sleeps, stirring a flash of worry in his expression. "Wake them! I'll slaughter them all the same!"

Gale cringes, conflicted for only a moment before he overcomes his internal argument, and he quickly rushes to your side. You bite at him with a rabid ferocity, and he sits behind you, pulling your body closer to his own, even as you squirm and fight him. Shadowheart mumbles, bordering on the edge of lucidity, and Gale curses out a whispered "Godsdamn it." He huffs, irritated just as much as he is scared, and his palm presses to your mouth, his thumb keeping your jaw shut — or at least trying to keep it shut — as your head is pulled against his shoulder.

You mumble, fervently antagonizing him, your muffled words being split up only by the subtle flinching of your jaw as you attempt to bite at his hand, all to no avail. His grasp is tight, nearly rough, keeping you as restrained as possible, and he watches Karlach and Shadowheart with apprehensive dread, his focus painfully split between concern for you and fear of you.

Gale looks down at you, his expression firm and yet, against all odds and expectations, somehow understanding, even if it is incredibly mild. "I've seen you tear apart the most ferocious of beasts. Foes that would make Bhaal himself tremble. You always prevail. You must defeat this — whatever it is." He nods, but his encouragement is not what you want to hear; you thirst for his terror, you thirst for his pleading, you want to see him tremble. His tone softens, and he squeezes your jaw, almost tenderly. "I'm right here. No blood will be shed tonight. Fight to your heart's content; I will not give in. You cannot give in, either."

Your heart is all that remains of your better judgement, and it aches at his promise, though the guilt and appreciation is quickly whisked away by your burning rage, your need for violence. You persist, as does he, correcting your every shift, no matter how exhausted he grows. Certainly the most stern you've ever seen him — more disciplined than you knew he could be, but you have little room in your mind to process that. You despise the way that he cares, the fact that he is just gentle enough not to injure you as he restricts you, the understanding in his expression, the near nurturing tone he takes on.

Yet it's the affection that eventually subsides your bloodlust, willing it to retire, however angry it remains. Angry at the loss, angry at the incompetence, angry at the devotion. Devotion to the wrong subject. Gale wins, ultimately — and by some affiliation, so too do you. A temporary victory, you're well-aware, but even if it isn't permanent, your body becomes your own, your thoughts and feelings along with it.

Exhaustion is the first burden you bear upon your return, and Gale is hesitant to ease his grasp on you, but he takes the risk, and you can't muster the energy to move away from him. Your head pangs with a narrow pain, manifesting as a faint ringing in your ears, and your wrists sear with sharp bites from the fraying rope. His hand releases your mouth, shifting quickly to your shoulder as your torso threatens to fall over, your buried rancor having completely wasted away the last of your energy.

Gale sighs, his own muscles easing up as he inches backwards, allowing you to lean more comfortably, and with a bit more stability, against his chest. One of his arms stays displayed over your abdomen, quite possibly still a little worried you might lash out again, and you didn't blame him for exercising caution. You lean into him, mostly because you lack the energy to do much else, but also because you want him to understand that you are beyond appreciative. "I'm sorry," you mumble, your voice hoarse and barely above a whisper — barely audible at all, really.

"I know. You're okay. Rest now, you'll certainly require some form of rejuvenation if we intend on defeating Ketheric and... Well, repressing whatever it is that you find yourself cursed with. And I assure you, I do so unquestionably intend on assisting you with your affliction. After all, I'm quite fond of my vitals, and I've no interest in seeing them spilled." Gale's tone is almost lighthearted, but genuine still.

His arm releases you, and he guides you to rest your head in his lap, allowing you to experience a little more comfort. Your eyes close, and you fear sleep — you know the possible horrors you could cause when you're left defenseless against your bloodlust — but you feel it taking you nonetheless. Gale doesn't untie you, not yet anyways, and it provides the slightest of reassurances. Worst case scenario, you know that, should the urge take advantage of your rest, Gale will expect it this time.

"Perhaps a poor time for confessions," he begins, his hand brushing stray hairs from your face, "But I must admit, the notion of you becoming lost to that rage is not a concept I'm anywhere near comfortable with. Keeping my heart beating is one motivation, and a strong one at that — but I hope you understand that keeping you safe is also immensely important to me. In all honesty, I'm... not sure what I'd do without you. I worry enough witnessing your engagement in the violent affairs we do so often find ourselves tangling with." Gale pauses, and clears his throat, shifting nervously. "Apologies, pay me no mind — A little shaken up, I fear my feelings may be getting the best of me. Rest. We'll reconvene come morning."

#baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #gale baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale dekarios bg3 #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x durge #durge bg3 #bg3 durge #durge #gale bg3 x durge #durge x gale #bg3 #gale of waterdeep

[offside-the-lines]

Nico/Mtkachuk + Fist ❤

AH YES! The Nico/Matty agenda that I am trying to get off the ground. I fucking love this pairing so much, and I dont have time to get into this here. But this is barely even a mini fic. This is like a blurb. I got carried away. ESPECIALLY with the game yesterday being so chippy. Edit: omg this is a brand new tag in AO3. Deeeeeeply exciting for me.

~

“Matty?”

“Yeah?”

“What the fuck is your brother’s problem?”

There is a beat of silence over the phone before he hears Matthew cackling on the other end of the line.

“Matthew,” Nico aims for exasperated, but misses by a mile. There’s something about Matthew’s laugh at always gets him.

“Sorry, sorry,” he manages to say between wheezes, “It's just— You should know by now that us Tkachuks only know how to communicate via fist."

"Come on, be serious Matty. I don't want him to hate me already," Nico sighs, his brows furrowed.

"He doesn't hate you, Nicy," Matthew offers, voice laced with gentle fondness, "He's just protective. Wants to test you or something. I can talk to him if you want. It won't change anything but—"

"No! No—" Nico is quick to interrupt. That would be fucking embarrassing. "I just wanna get this right, you know?"

"Nico," Matthew's voice softens, "that's— Remember when I tried to tell you I liked you by almost killing you on the ice, like twice?"

Nico chuckles, "Aaaand I was just starting to forget about that too."

"Shut up," he laughs, "My point is that we're just like that. I promise, if he actually had a problem, he would make it extremely extremely clear."

"Yeah, okay. You know, normal people just do a shovel talk right?"

"Oh, don't worry, that's still gonna happen. Although, Taryn's the one you need to watch out for. She's really lethal with the field hockey stick."

"Jesus, am I going to have to fist fight Brady for your hand in marriage," he mumbles to himself.

"Aww, babe," Matthew coos through the phone, "You wanna ma—"

"Oh my god," Nico groans.

"—but yeah, you should probably start training now," his voice bright.

Nico lays back in his bed and hums, letting the warmth of Matthew's voice nestle in his chest, tucked under his rib cage. He's only 80% sure he's joking; it might be worth it anyway.

After a beat of silence, Matthew speaks up again, "Wanna switch to Facetime? There's some other things I can do with my fist that I wanna show you."

Nico muffles a scream into his pillow to the sounds of Matthew's giggles. He accepts the Facetime request anyway.

~

Send me a player or pairing + a word, and I’ll write a mini fic about it. (I am running on quite a backlog right now so it might take me a while to get to your request).

Read other prompt mini fics!

#matthew tkachuk #nico hischier #fla #njd #rarepair #mini fic #hrpf #hockey rpf #requests #rox writes #hischucky wip inspo

[heleeanthea]

There is only one thing that I feel having watched last episode and it's disappointment. Not even sadness, not even anger, im just disappointed.

Izzy Hands deserved better.

We all, as the audience, deserved better.

You know, when the first season came out I was one of those people who really did not like Izzy at all. I almost couldn't believe that his fans even existed. Then, before second season I thought, well, Im sure that they will give him a redemption arc but Im going to hate him anyway as there is nothing that can redeem him in my eyes. I was so very sure of it.

Wrong, I was wrong. I admit it.

I loved his arc in second season, I loved every second of it. Truly. It has done what seemed utterly improbable to me - made me Izzy Hand's nr. 1 fan. It was just such a great piece of writing. From his initial first disobedience towards Blackbeard and then his finding himself and his worth outside of Blackbeard. His singing (he's great), doing drag (so beautiful), helping Stede, being a friend to him, helping Lucius, finding a family within the crew and finally, finally achieving what - as he said himself - piracy is about: belonging. He found his place, became the new unicorn. He begun to accept himself, to finally let go of all that bitterness that he had inside him in the first season. He allowed himself to be true to himself, to show his more vulnerable parts to the world. He was starting to feel better.

And then they killed him. And what makes it even worse, they did it in such a stupid, useless and anticlimactic way.

You see, Im generally against killing Izzy. I find it to be an utterly disappointing conclusion of his arc. The guy changed so much for the better during this season, becoming a better person as well as becoming more mentally stable and I believe that his arc deserved to have a much brighter and more optimistic conclusion. Where is a scene where he becomes a captain on The Revenge and finally is at peace? Free from Blackbeard, with his found family next to him?

Where is a promise to all lost, young, queer people that thing will get better even though now you may feel no hope?

We didn't get it. What we got was a rushed sequence that was directed more toward serving Ed's arc than Izzy's.

Why did he get shot? No reason, it was just random; it wasn't in a fight, it wasn't the unicorn protecting someone from his crew (which would make his death slightly less bad). The sole reason of him getting shot was to kill him off.

Was it needed for his arc? Well, it could have been done better and make more sense, yes. But wouldn't it make a more satisfying ending to give poor guy some happiness? When the whole season was focused on him earning it and allowing himself to feel it? It would turn out much better to acknowledge his growth and give him space to grow even more.

I don't even feel like Izzy's death was necessary for Ed's growth; not when both their arcs focused on finding themselves outside of constituting Blackbeard.

That's why I hate how Izzy's actual death moment is played out. The scene isn't about Izzy, it's about Ed. It's so focused on him that it almost hurts. Why is Ed the only one who's close to Izzy? Why is the crew so far away? Izzy loved them, they loved him, why don't they come closer and show it, he deserved it. And even Izzy's words, they are so focused on him telling Ed thing's that he needs to hear to grow further but... he doesn't need to hear it from him? It doesn't have to be Izzy who tells him that the crew loves him (which, arguably, is not really true as they are still wary of him after all that happened in the beggining of the season??), especially not when it's the last chance for Izzy to be told that he is loved, he is a part of the community, to be forgiven and apologised to.

And then they get over him so so fast? Just seconds after the funeral Stede is standing there and... trying to boast what great piece of pirat he is? Trying to make Zheng compliment him?

Also, why shoot him in his left side, missing all the important bits, and then have him die anyway?

#izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #omfd spoilers #omfd s2 spoilers #edward teach #con o'neill

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

will the workin boys musical ever come to YouTube? I read what starkid said and I wasn’t able to understand it much 👀

Hi!

Yeah it's a little confusing. I read it like eight times to make sure I understood it right and wasn't just... wishfully thinking.

So, to the best of my understanding, the answer to that question will be no. Personally, I think this is fair and totally understandable. Unlike everything else Starkid has ever done, Workin' Boys was promised and marketed as a project specifically for the 10niversay backers, not for the general public. You get Workin' Boys for free in exchange for backing that kickstarter.

But the Gods have smiled down on me, so for those of us who were not able/around to back that kickstarter, Workin' Boys will be viewable two ways. First, Starkid's doing that livestream on the 13th that will include the stream of Workin' Boys. In order to watch the stream, and therefore WB, you will have to purchase a ticket, though info on how to do so has not yet been released. If, for whatever reason, you can't do the livestream (like me, actually--I won't be available and am trying not to be mad about it), a recording (including the showing of Workin' Boys) will be put up on their shop/VHX site for rent until Halloween.

As for what happens after that, I dunno. For the sake of future fans, I hope it'll eventually be available to purchase a-la the tours and sketch shows. (I also hope this for the sake of Starkid, because that is an extra fifteen or so dollars they WILL then be receiving from me.) But if you're waiting on the chance to see it for free, I bet you'll be out of luck. Sometimes fans get together and do digital ticket giveaways, though, so you might get lucky there.

(I'd like to take this moment to remind everyone that pirating Starkid is NOT OKAY! If you can't see it, I'm sure everyone who does will be more than happy to fill you in on any lore/plot stuff you might miss. It won't be the same, but it'll be worth it to keep getting all of the stage shows uploaded for free.)

Anyways, hope that helps! It wasn't particularly informative; I pretty much just reworded everything in a way I thought was as clear as possible.

#starkid #workin boys #hatchetfield

[the-courtsjester]

Greetings ladies and gentlemen... and things, life if hard and trying to actually make a story with my own characters that's being mixed in with a show's own lore and balancing life is draining, I have two other stories I'm trying to work on in Tumbler so hopefully soon enough I can get one of them out. But anyway now enjoy these headcanons

Stelle x Male Reader headcanons

Stelle is basically a dog let's say that she'll follow you everywhere even break open the door to the bathroom to just... watch you, her brain dosen't even register your pants are down or that you're naked if you're showering, she just stares into your eyes not blinking until you pat her.

Stelle is easily gets bored why do you think she jumps in trash all the time? But if a conversation doesn't directly require her but you don't need to go through the process of cleaning her later, she has her own built in leash on the back of her jacket, and as pouty as she gets your stare of disappoint is super affective against her.

You ever see someone in a cartoon or show sleep in the weirdest position? Well when you don't get in bed with her fast enough and she falls asleep she'll manage to get in some weird positions, like half her body hanging off the bed, you fix this obviously but in the morning she'll somehow look like she's trying to hit a dance move while sleeping.

She definitely doesn't spend money wisely, I mean she knows how to not spend all of it and have some in reserve, but if she has some extra money and sees something stupid she knows you'll enjoy she'll buy it so long as she has enough money, one time she once bought you a large plushie that now takes over a corner of your room but hey it's to see your smile so worth it.

Oh you some super hyper fixation on something? Well don't keep it from her she wants to know so you both can share a brain cell and enjoy it together while snuggling on a couch or something, in short term it's now our hyper fixation.

Stelle definitely stares off into space thinking of you in many different scenarios, when she's eventually brought back into the conversation she'll look at you before covering her face in embarrassment from what she just imagined.

That baseball bat of hers is really good for bonking her and stopping her from taking a trashcan from the worlds you visit, only once have you let her bring one onto the Express after decontaminating it several times over, she sits in it like a cat in a cup it's cute.

When you have to leave the Express for awhile she'll be much more bored then usual, which means it's the perfect time to join March on some mischief, one time they set up the Express to be full of traps like Home Alone... Dan Heng was not happy to be their victim.

Your late night talks get weird, like talking about what animal you could one v one with just fists, how much food you could consume in an hour, how amazing it would be to rest your head on Himeko's chest for even a second, you both agreed it would be one of the top things you'd kill someone for.

She's kinda in the middle when it comes to be jealous, she'll definitely feel like you could be paying attention to her more if it's someone you both don't know that much, but if it someone you at least know she doesn't particularly care as much thanks to you being a great boyfriend that shows all the love in the world for your weird dog raccoon girlfriend.

Ah finally I've finished something hopefully my lovely audience enjoyed the show, again I'll try and focus on finishing the stories but no promises but I hope you all have a great rest of your night or day

And scene...

#honkai star rail #stelle #stelle x male reader #x reader #headcanon

[rageprufrock]

am i going to watch a whole show (mysterious lotus casebook) just so i can read your fic about it? yes. Am I also indefinitely suspended in a state of melancholy yearning for your vaguely-promised addition to Whittled Down by Another War? also yes. May sleep continue to elude you.

You know what? Ask and ye shall receive at least some of it, which I have written so far. Happy reading.

The first guy Porsche ever fools around with is a Korean tourist on vacation who shoots his shot in broken Thai. He's all smooth skin and silver-blond hair, wearing skintight jeans and a billowy pearl shirt; Porsche thinks he looks iridescent in the pink light of Hum Bar, between his light hair and light contacts, and he knows, objectively, that the guy is prettier than half the girls in the room tonight.

Because Porsche is sort of an asshole, he doesn't really catch the guy's name—Taemin? Jimin? something like that?—but he does remember thinking that it might be worth figuring out what the big deal was, and holding up his cigarettes, saying, "My break's in 15 minutes." It's a decision he makes out of pure curiosity without any influence from recent social factors, new acquaintances, members of the Bangkok underworld, or their specific tendencies to walk around with their tits hanging out of their designer shirts.

It's nice, because it's almost never not nice when someone is nice enough to put their mouth on your dick, but Porsche thinks—vague with formless disappointment—that it's only nice. Out of good hookup etiquette, Porsche offers and performs what he hopes is an acceptable handjob before giving his partner some alleyway wet wipes and a cigarette. It's a solid 6/10 experience, and he ends up dropping a few Google Maps pins for the kid for good restaurant recommendations and tells him which tourist traps to avoid if at all possible. It is the most ambivalent he has ever felt about a sexual experience, and it leaves him annoyed in a way Porsche decides not to think about.

"Are you serious?" Tem demands, when Porsche comes back from the alley. "It's not enough for you to Bogart all the hot chicks in his bar, you have to start poaching guys?"

"I'm allowed to try new things," Porsche whines.

Tem narrows his eyes. "Is this about your crush on the mafia guy?"

"This is homophobic," Porsche says, feeling a rising sense of dread, because Tem is one of his best friends, and the worst part of intimacy is being known. "And anyway it was—fine. It was extremely okay. It was no big deal. Turns out I'm still just straight."

"You are a complete fucking clown is what you are," Tem says to him, which turns out to be only the third-meanest thing Tem calls him that night.

The second time Porsche hooks up with a guy, he's actually Thai, which allows for improved communication but provides stunningly little benefit otherwise. King is a solid six inches shorter than Porsche, with glossy black hair and beestung lips, wearing a mesh shirt and cut up shorts. He leans over the bar with a flattering interest and the type of confidence that looks sexy on anybody, hooks one finger into the place where Porsche's shirt button is fighting for its life, and asks if he's interested in going somewhere private after his shift.

Porsche means to say, "Oh, no, thank you, but I'm not interested."

What Porsche actually says is, "Okay. Do you have a place?" and feels Tem's glare searing into his organs from a distance of 10 meters.

The situation isn't improved when, as he's begging off closing, Yok glowers at him like a disapproving parent and asks, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I don't know," Porsche says, honest. "I mean—what the hell am I ever doing?"

"Oh my God," Yok mutters. "Just—don't get pregnant."

Porsche doesn't get pregnant, but he does get pushed backward onto the creaky mattress of a dingy little apartment so that King can mouth at his dick until he's all the way hard and roll on a condom. Porsche likes to think he's polite in bed, so he tries to like, help, or whatever, but King seems to take Porsche's attempts to participate as adorable but misguided, even if he does say, "sure, if you want to try," when Porsche asks to help finger him open. It's shockingly different and shockingly the same, dipping his fingers into the hot clutch of someone's body, so weird if you think about it too much, but so immediate and close in the moment. The warm weight of another person, the smell of King's hair, the little huffs and noises he makes—those are all so good—and Porsche likes making people feel good, likes when he does something right and King says, "oh, yes, there, there." It takes him out of his own head and plunges him back into the moment, back into a stranger's apartment and a stranger's bed, back to the moment at hand where King is perched in his lap, notching the head of Porsche's cock into the slick, hot furl of his hole and sliding down, down, down.

It's good, in a way that's nothing like it's been with all the women he's fucked against alley walls, and Porsche feels sparks behind the eyes when King holds him down, takes what he needs. It's rough and a little raw, and King leaves a mean little brand of dull fingernail bruises on Porsche's thigh, from where he leaned back to get the angle how he liked and rode Porsche into the sunset.

"Not bad for your first time," King says after, just wandering around scrubbing between his legs with a towel in a way Porsche is certain no woman would be caught dead doing. "You want anything? Water? I have some watermelon?"

"Uh," Porsche says, still wearing a t-shirt, no pants and the used condom, lying on top of King's sheets like a fucking idiot. "No, I'm good?"

"Great, well, it was great hanging out tonight," King says, all business, hands Porsche his jeans and tosses him out on his freshly fucked ass.

"What the fuck," Porsche hisses, to himself, to the unfeeling universe, into the visor of his motorcycle helmet as he steers himself home, feeling knock-kneed and akimbo, run through with so much weirdness it's like he's 13 all over again.

"Well you can stop worrying, I'm definitely straight," Porsche reports the next day, when Tem traps him in the newly installed walk-in fridge and threatens him with a muddler.

Tem looks like he's in physical pain. "Please explain."

"Well I had actual butt sex with a guy—"

"Holy shit," Tem whispers.

"—and it was, I mean. It was whatever? It was good, I guess?" Porsche says, struggling, because it was good and bad and weird and near what he wanted but so far away he'd been angry showering that night, scrubbing under his pits and around his groin. It's like biting into a strawberry to find it tasteless after he's wondered for decades, saved for years, and now he feels embarrassed and pissed about it, still hungry.

"You guess?" Tem asks, sounding increasingly hysterical.

"It was just okay!" Porsche yells. "Like extremely, totally just okay! Like what is even the big deal if that's all it was? It was fine! He was super pretty and I couldn't even get into it so what's the point?"

Tem puts down the muddler but only so he can cover his face with both hands. It leaves Porsche standing there feeling humiliated and getting colder and colder for a long time before Tem says through his fingers, "Porsche, do you want me to tell you what I think?"

Porsche met Tem back in kindergarten, because when all their classmates had been comparing who had the fewest teeth, he and Tem had tied. When Porsche was too scared to go to the boy's bathroom because Jom started a rumor that it was haunted, Tem had kept watch when Porsche had gone to go take a shit in the bushes behind the gym. Tem helps Porsche sweep up his parents' graves, helps Chay with his homework; he knows where the junk drawer in Porsche's house is, where to find the extra toilet paper, the batteries, all of Porsche's hidden hopes.

Porsche absolutely does not want to know what Tem thinks.

"No, I'm good," Porsche babbles, shoulderchecks Tem out of the way, and flees into the front of house before throwing himself at every ravening group of drunk women available for the rest of the night, terrified Tem's going to reveal some truth of the universe Porsche isn't ready to hear yet.



The problem—well, one of the problems—is that Porsche still wants to talk about it. It keeps bubbling up under his skin like an itch, always on the tip of his tongue, but Tem's moved on from trying to give him tough love to giving Porsche tender looks, like Porsche has a terminal case of being a fucking moron and only six months to live. So the point is Porsche has this weird impulse, this jitter, and he can't talk to Tem about it, which means he can't talk to Jom about it, because Jom will just text Tem and Tem will come after Porsche like a surface to air missile. There are no circumstances under which Porsche could talk to Chay about it. Porsche briefly hallucinates talking to Kinn about it, the next time Kinn comes to the bar in his tailored trousers to drink too many Old Fashioneds, and it feels like someone threw a molotov cocktail into Porsche's stomach, so that's right out. Anyway, the point is, for lots of reasons, most of them bad, Porsche's go-to friend for questions about gay sex ends up being Big.

"Hey, we're friends," Porsche says. "Can I ask you about doing it with guys?"

"We're not friends," Big says with absolute conviction and a look on his face like he just watched Porsche murder a basket of kittens.

"So like—how did you know?" Porsche goes on, ignoring him. "That you were into dudes?"

Big stares over Porsche's shoulder, at the wall of liquor behind him, and appears to be suffering the worst possible torment and extremis.

"I'm just asking because like, sex feels good in general right?" Porsche barrels on, because Big can't ignore him forever. Kinn had banished him to the bar so that he could have what looks like the most classic I Hate Being Your Older Brother phone call of all time in a booth four feet away, so there's nowhere Big can go and nothing he can do. "Like how do you know if it's good because you're into dudes, or just friction?"

"You're how old?" Big snaps, breaking. "How can you not know this? Also—how do you know I'm even into men?"

"I have eyes," Porsche says. "I use them to watch you staring at Kinn."

"I'm a bodyguard," Big says. "It's literally my job to stare at Khun Kinn."

"You better hang onto that bodyguard job, because you're a shit actor," Porsche says. "Come on, seriously. I need help. Like gay help."

Big turns away from the wall of liquor so that he can stare at Kinn some more. "I wish I could drink on the job," he says, like Porsche is slowly killing him, and then before Porsche can argue his point anymore, Kinn ends his call and ambles back over.

"That was my cue," Kinn says, indicating his phone and glancing at Big.

"I'll call for the car immediately," Big says, and fucking disappears, dust clouds in his wake, as far away from Porsche and his unanswered question as possible, the dick.

Even worse, it leaves Porsche in the harrowing position of being unsupervised and subjected to all of Kinn's concentrated attention: those dark eyes huge and hungry and thoughtful, staring and staring. It makes Porsche's heart hurt; it makes him shy; it makes him duck his head, nervous, and to scrub at the spotless counter with a rag and ask, "Do you have time for one more? For the road?" too softly, too—everything.

"Not tonight," Kinn tells him. His smile looks a little glassy, too brittle and polished and polite; this isn't the Kinn that Porsche likes best, where he's wrinkled and bitchy and rude, entirely present. "But thank you."

"Of course," Porsche says, feeling hot, feeling lost. "Have a good night."

Kinn leaves Porsche a 500% tip. "You too, Porsche."

It's a lot later, and only into the forgiving dark of his bedroom, that Porsche curls up on his side and stares out his window and whispers, "Be safe." Worse than any secret Tem knows, worse than anything Big could say, that he has to grit his teeth against the words every time Kinn walks away is the worst, most exposing truth of all.

Porsche figures that now that he's ticked those two homosexual boxes, he's done with this weird little experiment. This assumption holds true until he finds himself in the alleyway behind Hum Bar again, only this time his knees hurt, bone grinding against the wet cement paving through his polyester work pants as he stares up at some guy who'd followed Porsche out during his break. Kinn's been a no-show at the bar for more than a month: there hasn't been anything in the newspapers, there hasn't been anything in the society pages, there hasn't been anything on the police scanners. Porsche blames this radio silence for the series of poor decisions he makes that night, beginning with taking two fortifying shots three-quarters of the way through his shift, and concluding with getting facefucked less than 10 meters away from a bunch of trash cans.

Long after tonight's random gay interlude disappears, Tem finds Porsche sitting on a stack of palettes in the back, letting his cigarette burn down to the filter.

"What the fuck," Tem says. "What happened to you? Are you okay? Are you crying?"

Porsche scrubs at his face. "No," he lies, because he'd definitely been crying earlier, choking on dick, and his mouth feels bruised, swollen. He's afraid to see what he looks like right now, if he would look as obvious as he feels: used up, if just anybody could see him and know immediately how much he likes how his throat hurts, the way he keeps sweeping his tongue over his teeth, chasing the bitter salt taste of cum in his mouth.

Tem's face goes through all five stages of grief before he swings back to anger, shoves at Porsche until there's enough room on the palette to sit on his right, and steals his cigarette.

#fanfic #kinnporsche #whittled down by another war #wip