#i continue to regret killing him off but here we are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grandlinedreams · 5 hours

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|| i regret nothing I need Cooper Howard viscerally both pre and post Ghoulification

|| notes: semi Canon compliant, spoiler-ish for end of s1, semi-shifting pov, Lucy is adorable but baby girl you will be chewed up and spat out pls grow more spine, Dogmeat has never done anything wrong ever, godbless Cooper having a southern accent bc that's my accent, yeah, gonna do a sequel to this and a prequel on Coop and reader's first meeting, ok bye

|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, couple of allusions to cannibalism, reader is not specifically gendered, NSFW ㅡ fingering/touching

“Where are we going?”

Not for the first time today, or even the last week, Cooper questions why he's letting the Vaultie (“Lucy,” she informs him primly, “my name is Lucy.”) tag along. The dog, at least, is a good, reliable companion. Dogmeat trots dutifully at his side, her tail wagging as he stops to glare at Lucy.

“Supplies, Vaultie,” he tells her, relishes the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. “Need supplies or we'll both be knee deep in shit.” He pauses. “More than we already are.”

She mumbles something he doesn't care to catch as he resumes walking, rolling his eyes as he adjusts his hat. He knows he could stand to be a little more sympathetic with the bombshell she's still dealing with, but he can't bring himself to ㅡ not when his daughter might still be alive out there, somewhere. (And his ex-wife, who he's pointedly trying to not think about too much.)

Lucy is blessedly quiet for a good while, all the way until they get closer to where they're going. Cooper doesn't need that piece of shit vault-tec device on her arm to know where he is, but Lucy says it anyways.

“It's a town,” she mumbles at the cluster of ramshackle buildings, surrounded by the clustering of trees so much like Filly ㅡ but isn't. “Is thisㅡ”

“Yes,” he answers, “now shut it and walk.”

Lucy huffs. “I don't know if you've realized neither of us have means to pay for anything,” she protests, “but the general rule ofㅡ”

“Vaultie.” If looks could kill, she'd be six feet under. He's never had much patience, but she’s already reached the bottom of it and keeps digging. “Shut the fuck up about your goddamn rules. If you haven't noticed, nobody up here gives a damn about playing by what's wrong and what's right.” He gives her a meaningful look. “Now if you don't want me to leave your ass to whatever comes along next, you'll be quiet and let me handle it.”

Lucy's mouth shuts with an audible click, and Cooper turns on his heel to resume walking, Dogmeat at his heels.

Like Filly, the center of buildings bustle with the day to day of so many others, the cacophony of animal sounds along with chatter ㅡ Cooper spares Lucy a brief glance to watch her struggle to keep up and scoffs to himself, shaking his head as he continues.

He knows where he's going, a little shop shoved between two others, narrow but deeper than the other two, because he's been here before. Several times, actually. Which accounts for the familiarity with which he strolls over the threshold and leaves Lucy and Dogmeat to follow.

There's the jingle of what might be a bell over Lucy's head when she follows, blinking at the interior. Neat and tidy, or at least as much as can pass for such things on the surface ㅡ rows of weapons and other assorted things on shelves and stands.

Lucy watches The Ghoul rap his fist on the counter. “I know you're here,” he calls, “you never leave this damn place!”

She expects whoever it is to come scuttling out with the tone of voice he uses and being as accustomed to his rougher attitude, and she listens to the clatter of something further in the shop.

“If that's your greeting nowadays,” comes the answer, “you can fuck off.”

To Lucy’s surprise, The Ghoul husks a laugh instead of offering another threat. Footsteps approach, and Lucy blinks at the person who rounds the corner.

“You,” you accuse, finger almost into his chest, “thought I told you I was done dealing with you if you couldn't work on your manners.”

Lucy stares, and watches as you turn towards her and raise an eyebrow, eyeing her with unrestrained curiosity, then at Dogmeat. “A vaultie and a dog,” you say, then glance back at The Ghoul. “So, taking in strays, huh?”

The Ghoul grimaces. “Guess so.” He clears his throat. “Need supplies again, sweetheart.”

“Figured as much,” you say, arms folding across your chest. Lucy decides she likes you, because you're standing up to him ㅡ and he's letting you. “Take it you have no way of paying, again.”

Lucy wants to tell The Ghoul I told you so, because he can shit on all her little rules all he likes but the surface still deals in keeping the scales balanced. You have to eat too, so it's fair that you're expecting payment in the nonexistent caps they have. The Ghoul, on the other hand, tries a different route.

“Oh come on now sugar,” The Ghoul wheedles, tone almost what could be considered as sweet. Playing at a gentleman for the way he leans against the cobbled together counter, even goes as far as to take his hat off and place it down. “Don't be like that.”

“Don't you sugar me,” you counter with an attitude that honestly startles Lucy for both the lack of genuine bite or answering hostility from The Ghoul. This isn't the first time you've met, she realizes, and is also quietly a little horrified to register that this almost sounds like flirting. “You're a pain in the ass, you know that?”

The Ghoul almost grins. “At least I'm consistent. Besides, you know you miss me when I'm gone.”

You snort, pressing your lips together to hide a smile. Lucy feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with the atmosphere, like she's watching something she shouldn't be privy to.

“Yeah, yeah,” you answer, bustling around to shove several fabric wrapped packs into his chest and giving him a meaningful look. “You owe me.”

It's definitely flirting now, Lucy notes as The Ghoul's face lights up in a way that's still entirely human, tracking your movements with something far softer than anything she's ever seen from him.

The turn towards her and head jerk to her and Dogmeat is as clear as dismissal as she's ever seen, to make herself scarce ㅡ so she does, but not before she catches the peripheral glimpse of the way you let him reach for you, almost melting into him for the way he moves to undoubtedly murmur something.

That something is not the sweet words of a long time lover, but it's probably about as close as you're going to get with things the way they are.

“Anyone causin’ you trouble lately?”

You roll your eyes. “Besides you?” He gives you a look, and you shake your head. “No, and even if there was, you know I can handle myself.” You turn to throw him a teasing look over your shoulder. “Don't tell me you're getting soft on me, old man.”

It's Cooper's turn to snort, even as he moves to follow you. There's a sort of peace to watching you sort through boxes of shell casings and bottles of powder, letting his gaze drift over your body.

When you turn, he doesn't even bother to hide the way he's watching you, and you arch an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he returns. “Can't I admire you?”

You roll your eyes. “I'm too expensive for you, Cooper.” It's a playful taunt, one that incites a little flare of something in his eyes as he approaches, the jingle of his spurs as he comes to loom over you, cages you in against the shelves of “inventory”.

“Really now,” he drawls, leans in, eyes predatory dark. A lifetime ago, you might have been scared. But the wastelands made no qualms about beating fear out of people just as quick as it snuffed out life all together. “Here I was thinkin’ I might get a discount.” He reaches, thumbs at your bottom lip with his gloved digit. “What's the askin’ price, sweetheart?”

This close, he smells like the wastelands and sunbaked leather, with a little bit of blood ㅡ but you don't mind. Never have, not sure you ever will. Not when it comes to him, anyways.

He's a dangerous man. A man with a reputation that's well-earned, spoken in hushed whispers and anything but nice. But you let him slot a leg between yours, lean in, press his lips to your hair. You smell like gunpowder and hot metal, grease stained fingertips and more than a couple bruises and scars for your efforts.

Sometimes Cooper contends with the idea he might need you just as much as he needs that chem that keeps him sane. Admits it here and there, quietly to himself when he wanders in, squashes it down that he makes the trips sometimes just to make sure you're still alive. Not like he'd know if you were, till he sees you. Not sure what he'd do if he someday came up and found you gone. No note, no goodbye ㅡ quick and quiet, the cruelty of the wastelands.

“Didn't answer my question, darlin’.” He mumbles, lips to your cheeks now. Soft skin, kept carefully with rationed doses of radaway and a healthy heap of keeping your cute little self out of business that doesn't involve you. “Come on, I asked you real nicely.”

You hook your fingers in the loops of his belt, pull him closer. He can feel the jump of your heartbeat under his lips, now at your jawline. A soft, shaky inhale. Selfishly, he wants to keep you. Steal you away, greedy to keep you for himself. Hates the idea of whatever scum that rolls in that you have to deal with on your own. You can handle yourself, he knows that.

Doesn't stop that little piece of him that's still truly Cooper Howard from worrying. But he knows better than to think he can protect you, because he can't. So he does what he can.

Your skin is soft under his teeth, forgiving to the nip of them, the blooming blossom of pink that reminds him of strawberries. The noise you make is just as sweet, and he wonders if you'd taste like that, too.

“I'm waiting,” he prompts between little nips, mouth curving against your flesh when you grip at him tighter. There's a lot he could do to you, and not a lot you wouldn't let him. “Don't tell me this big ol’ cat’s got your tongue, little songbird.”

Your lips part, and he expects either a sparky response or a soft plea for what this is tilting towards, partaking of something far softer than anything he's used to nowadays ㅡ but you’ve always had a taste for throwing him for a loop, and you do it now.

“Take me with you.”

That snaps him out of his little hazy, touch-greedy daze, enough that he pulls away to look at you properly. “Repeat that?”

“You heard me.” You tug at the loops of his belt, eyes steely, expression firm. “Take me with you. Tired of this shitty little outpost. Figure it's time to move before I get myself into trouble I can't get out of.”

Cooper laughs. “Think you're runnin’ straight into that fire by askin’ what you're askin’, sweet thing.” A warning and a plea, mixed mish-mash in his words. Part of him wants you to stay here. Concrete, much as it can be, where he knows where you are. Other part says it'd be easier to watch your back if he saw it all the time.

“That's not an answer, Cooper.”

He snorts, softens at the edges again, a little sadder as he reaches to stroke your jawline, leans to bump his forehead to yours ㅡ radiation warm against radaway cold. “Wanna make sure you know what you're asking for, darlin’. I ain't your babysitter. Got my own shit to do.”

“I know.” There's that fire in your voice, the kind he loves and hates at the same time. “Wasn't asking for you to babysit me.”

He swallows roughly. Lets his hands drift up your sides, tug at the tuck of your shirt, underneath to drag sun-worn leather against the soft skin of your abdomen. Relishes the way you shiver, leaning into his touch. “Can't promise nothin’, you know that.”

Your smile promises the same kind of heartbreak his own words do, the kind rooted in the reality that the world doesn't deal in any absolute but death, and sure as shit won't give happy endings. Not anymore. “I know.”

Cooper can't think of what to say to that, at least anything he's ready to, so he kisses you. Your lips are too soft against his, the warmth of your mouth reigniting that greedy, needy, human thing inside him. He pulls, digs his fingers into your soft, pliant skin, and he takes.

Takes what you willingly give him, hand over hand with nothing but that pretty little smile of yours. He muffles your gasp as he wedges his leg a little firmer, coaxes the part of your legs with a rough husk of, “just like that, dollface,” and delights too much in the sound of you moaning for him.

Hushed, quiet enough that there's no reason for Dogmeat or Lucy to come back yet (he doesn't know what they're up to nor does he really fuckin’ care at the moment), he lets himself indulge in the pleasure of your body against his. The sweet little sounds, half-gasped as he mouths at your neck, hitched to something almost like music as his hands wander.

Pauses long enough to bite at the tip of his glove and tug, one then two, the bare, radiation scarred wander of his fingers over your body. It's selfish, the way he covets every little twitch and jump of your muscles, the choked gasp as he guides you into rocking against his leg.

“You're so sweet for me, sugar,” he coos, syrupy as he picks you apart meticulously, piece by piece. Fingers still far too good at what they do when he replaces his leg with the press of them against you, remnants of a past life for how well he gets you to whimper his name. “Like ambrosia.”

His fingers stroke, deceptively gentle, working over your slick, too-hot, achy skin until you’re panting and gripping at him, pleading for a relief only he can give you. And that’s exactly how he wants you, where all you can see and think of is him.

The expression you make when he finally lets you come might truly be the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a very long time. Headier than the Jet, dizzying and making him swear as he jerks his clothed hips against yours, breath sharp in his chest.

“Gonna be the death of me, I swear.” He bites at your neck, digs a little harder, scrapes his canines into your sweet, yielding flesh. He could devour you, take bite after sweet, sweet bite and actually test that theory about the strawberries. Crack the cage of your rib, feast on that beating yolk of heart that thumps so hard in your chest.

“Gonna let me do it, sweet thing?” He rumbles against your ear. “Let me have it all?”

Your eyes flash, lips pretty and swollen as they part to answer ㅡ and the bark of that damn mutt ruins it all. At least it's a warning for you both, because he's stepping back and letting you fix yourself with surprising speed as Lucy and Dogmeat return, an expectant look on the fuckin’ vaultie's face.

“Well? Got what you need?"

Cooper snorts, tracks you instead of answering as you press your hand to his for a second, gone around the corner. Lucy frowns when you return, pistol strapped at your hip and a bandolier slung over your shoulder like his, broad pack strapped to your back. Like you planned for this.

And you did, he notes, but it hadn't been contingent on his agreement. Idly, he notes he never did answer you, not really. But he just hums, then turns towards Lucy, who looks between the two of you, confused.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, “got what I need.”

#ㅡmine.#fallout series #fallout x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader

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osaemu · 2 months

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GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene.

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against.

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room.

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor.

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal?

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own.

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second.

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket.

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips.

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you.

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate.

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin.

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you.

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat.

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

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kyleoreillylover · 7 months

Text

𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 🖤

Dominik Mysterio x Fem!Bloodline!Reader

“Let me take care of you, sweetheart.” + “Take out your anger on me. I can handle it."

Summary: Your family is pissing you off, and Dominik is more than happy to let you take your anger out on him.

A/N: Dominik brain rot is real and this is the result of it (this took so long 😭) and was inspired by the gif below. This is my first smut and probably my last, so please be nice! Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6,016

Warnings: SMUT!! Cursing, family drama.

You sighed as you rubbed your temples, closing your eyes for a moment and feeling the incoming headache about to come as the room got louder and louder with anger. You opened your eyes to see Roman and Jimmy still arguing, yelling and getting closer and closer to each other. Jey was sitting in the corner, jaw clenched as he let them get into it. Solo was standing next to you, keeping a watchful eye on them in case things got out of hand. Your eyes met, and you can tell by the look in his eye he was done with all this shit too.

Why couldn't they talk this out like men instead of acting like children? You thought, rolling your eyes. You snapped out of your thoughts when Jimmy pushed Roman into the corner, all of you quickly getting up to separate them.

"You guys need to stop this!" You shouted angrily as you and Jey held Jimmy back, Solo trying to calm Roman down but to no avail.

"No, he needs to stop being a manipulative asshole! Apologize for losing? Acting like you wouldn't have lost without our help. My help. I ain't apologizing for shit, ‘Tribal Chief'!"

"Jimmy, chill out!" Jey tried, but Roman's laugh echoed throughout the room, and Jimmy tried to get out of our grips.

"Nah, let him run his mouth. You don't see your brothers acting like this, huh? Or your sister? You know why they aren't acting like this? Because they know that I am right, they know that you disgraced everybody. You disgraced this family, your ancestors, your legacy, and me, your Tribal Chief. You need to apologize for them, but most importantly, you will apologize to me."

"I ain't apologizing for anything! You wouldn't have even been Tribal Chief if it weren't for us, uce! You were a disgrace until we helped you get to the top! So if I am gonna apologize to anyone, I'ma apologize to myself for helping you get there in the first place!" Jimmy spat out, nostrils flaring as he clenched his fists, continuing to try and break out of our grip. You felt all the patience slip out of you in that very moment and you snapped, grabbing Jimmy’s shirt and pushing against the wall.

"You all need to shut the fuck up!" You screamed, Jimmy becoming lax in your grip with a look of shock on his face, the others quiet in shock as well. Finally, they shut up.

“You need to put your ego’s in check and start acting like men instead of acting like children!” You yelled furiously, scowling at them.

"He needs to-" Jimmy began, but you gave him a glare that could kill and he shut his mouth.

"You both need to stop trying to be right and start talking to each other like grown ass people. You need to stop holding grudges and let shit go. " You hissed, letting him go and turning towards Roman.

"And you need to keep your 'Tribal Chief' ego in check and stop crapping on people just because things don't go to plan." You snapped at him.

"Uce, calm down." Jey made his way towards you, trying to quell your anger before you said something Roman would make you regret, but you gave him a look and he backed away. You couldn't care less about Roman right now, he needed to hear the truth.

"Calm down? Are you kidding me?" You scoffed in disbelief.

"Don't you see what's happening? You're giving everybody what they want. They want to see us crumble, want to see our dominance fall so they could rise and take our top spot here."

You looked at Jimmy, seeing his face turn from anger to a mixture of embarrasment and relization."You're feeding into Sami and Kevin, letting them get in your heads. Why do you think they keep digging and digging? Because they want to keep those titles, and your basically ensuring they win by engaging with their stupid bullshit!"

You turned to Roman, who was stunned silent for the first time in a while. He had rarely seen you angry, even when you were kids. You were always the moral compass for the group, keeping their moral up with your caring energy. But you thought that now they needed the hard truth instead of caring words.

"And you need to stop letting your ego cloud your morals. Just because we're family doesn't mean you get a pass to be an asshole." Roman met your challenged gaze, still silent but didn't look as angry as before. Solo stood next to him, a stunned look on his usually stone-cold face as he watched you rip everybody to shreds with a tone you usually reserved for your rivals.

"You all are out of your mind if you think I'm letting everything I worked hard for go to waste because you don't want to get along. Get it together the next time I see you, I'm getting some air." You casted everyone a look before grabbing your jacket, slipping it on and leaving the room.

You franticly sped out of the arena, needing to just breathe and feel the cool night air on your skin. The fans were long gone by this time, so you didn't need to worry about being spotted. You sat on a bench, putting your head in your hands and trying to breathe through the haze of anger you felt suffocating you and coursing through your veins.

"Trouble in paradise?" You snapped out of your daze, already knowing who it was and not bothering to pick your head back up.

"Shut up, Dominik. I'm not in the mood." You mumbled loudly enough for him to hear. You heard him laugh, not taking you seriously. "Ooh, the full name this time. What happened to Dom? Am I in trouble?"

You picked your head up, glaring at him. "I said I'm not in the mood. Leave me alone and find someone else to bother."

He stopped laughing, realizing you weren't joking. "What happened?"

"None of your concern. Are you deaf? Leave. me. alone." You made a move to stand up, but he pushed you back down gently, sitting down next to you.

"Can you not be annoying for once and actually listen to me?" You spat at him, trying to stand up again but he grabbed your waist, restraining you.

"What happened?" He repeated, seeing your eyes glazed with anger. He had never seen you this mad outside of the ring before, and it made him unnerved for it to be directed at him. You were usually playful with him, sometimes having mean banter with your character work but you both didn't mean any of it. But you were never like this.

"Family business." You finally answered him, short and clipped. You tried looking away from him but he gently grabbed your cheek.

"Look at me, mi corazon." You tried to ignore the way the pet name made your stomach tighten with butterflies and listened to him, looking deep into his eyes, distracting yourself with his brown orbs that almost made you forget about your anger. Almost.

"What did your family do?" You felt the anger rush back and you mockingly chuckled. “Jimmy and Roman keep starting arguments on literally anything instead of focusing on winning. Now everybody thinks were weak and vulnerable, even though I've done nothing but pull my weight!" You huffed out, breaking out of his grip and standing up, clenching your fists. You muttered to yourself angrily, wanting to scream, hit something, do anything to let out the frustration gnawing at you.

But Dominik stood up with you, grabbing your wrists, and yanking you back into his arms. You scowled at him, trying to pull away from him. “Let go of me!”

“Not until you breathe, mi vida.” He held your wrists in one hand and grabbed your face with the other, softly caressing your face, his heartbeat and husky smell of his cologne invading your scenes.

“Look at me, mi amor.” Dominik instructed, his brown eyes gazing into yours as you ignored the way your stomach churned everytime he spoke Spanish to you and kept trying to pull your wrists away from him. But he opted for letting go of your face, bringing your head into his chest, and you felt his hot breath near your ear as he nuzzled his head into your neck. "Cálmate, carino."

Screw him and his stupidly hot Spanish. You felt yourself melt into him, some calmness washing over you the longer you were in his arms. He let go of your wrists, and you wrapped your arms around his waist, shivering when he laid feather-light kisses onto your neck.

Dominik continued kissing your neck, loving the feeling of you in his arms and shivering under his touch. He waited for your breathing to slow down to let you go, but he wrapped an arm around your waist, not wanting you out of arms reach.

"You better now, sweetheart?" You nodded, you still felt that haze of anger but it wasn't at strong as before. "I need words, baby.”

"I'm better now, Dom." You grabbed his free hand and held it, relishing in the smile he gave you.

"I can tell now that you called me Dom." You rolled your eyes playfully at his smirk and grabbed the hand that was around your shoulder and held it, relishing in the smile he gave you.

“Do you have a ride back? Dominik asked, to which you shook your head. “I was too mad at the boys to drive with them, so I’ma just get an uber-”

“You’re riding with me.” You gave him an amused smile at his demanding tone, it was usually the other way around.

“You sure you don't need mami's permission for that?" You giggled when he yanked you closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, his forhead leaning against yours and his lips so, so close to yours.

"You know more than anyone I don't need her permission." Dom pushed his lips onto yours, kissing away your smirk and losing himself in the taste of you. God, you were addicting.

You kissed him slowly at first-as if you wanted to torture him-and he hated and loved you for it. He groaned into your mouth when you snuck a hand up to his hair, pulling it just the way you knew he liked it and kissing him even harder, your tongue slipping into his mouth. His fingers dug into your waist almost painfully as you clung to him, his touch burning your skin in the best way and you pulled his hair harder in response.

You pulled away first, the both of you panting and out of breath. You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling brightly at him when he leaned into your touch. You felt the heat creep back up looking at him, his hair slightly touseled and his muscles showing through his dark black tee. You felt the urge to kiss him again, so you did. He laughed into your lips, letting you steal another kiss before pulling away. “I meant what I said before. I'm not letting you go into a random car by yourself in the middle of the night just because you're mad at your idiot brothers."

"They are not idiots."

"They are if they decided to make you angry." You laughed, playfully nudging him, and he grinned before brushing your hair out of your face. You looked up at him through your lashes, seeing him gaze at you with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart." You bit your lip, struggling to choose between your stubbornness or giving in to what you want. As if sensing your internal conflict, Dominik caressed your face, running his thumb over your lips, making you break out of your stupor. He smirked when you instinctively parted your lips, it’d been too long yet your bodies still remembered each other.

"Please?" You couldn't refuse him, not when he was looking at you like you were the only thing he ever wanted to think of.

"Fine, but I get to have the aux." Music was the last thing on your mind, but he didn't need to know that. At least not right now.

"Deal, but only cause you have great taste."

"You're right. I do have great taste." You eyed him up and down, winking at him and giving him a smirk that made him utterly weak for you. "Lead the way. You're driving."

The drive was quiet, music playing softly in the background as you put a hand on Dom's thigh, inching higher and higher the closer you got to the hotel. His hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he tried to get himself under control. You grinned seeing him like this, letting you be in charge. You needed to release your anger and have a stress reliever, and he was more than willing to let you use him as one. It wouldn't be the first time.

Before you knew it, you were at the hotel. You kept your hands to yourself until you went into the elevator, and as soon as its doors closed, you were all over Dominik, gripping his shirt and pushing him against the wall, giving him a searing kiss.

He welcomed it, kissing you back just as hard, moaning into your mouth when you bit his lip. He grabbed your legs and hoisted you onto his waist as if you weighed nothing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting yourself get dizzy in his arms, letting out a whine when he slid his tongue against your lip to draw it between his teeth. Your mind switched off, and all you could do was feel feel feel. Feel his bruising grip on your legs, his lips nibbling and biting any part of your mouth he can find, the heat growing in between your legs, his muscles flexing underneath your arms as you both turned each other into a writhing mess.

Your back hit something cold, and you pushed Dom away instinctively and opened your eyes, realizing you were in front of the hotel room. He whined at the loss of contact, his mouth moving to your neck, and you groaned and arched into him when he sucked a sensitive spot behind your ear.

"Fuck, do that again." You demanded, trying to keep your voice steady as you leaned your head on the wall, giving him more access to your neck. Dom let out an airy chuckle. You were hot when you got bossy. "Whatever you want, Mamacita." He murmured into your skin, obeying and kissing that same spot, trying to distract himself from the way your whines and whimpers were going straight to his dick long enough to get his keycard and open the room.

He brought you both into the room, setting you on the bed, hovering over you, and capturing your lips with his. Any coherent thoughts he had melted away as you deepened the kiss, distracting him with your tongue hot and probing in his mouth.

You took this opportunity to roll the both of you over and switch your positions, not breaking the kiss. You laid on top of him, gripping his shoulders for balance, and grinded your hips against his, internally smirking when Dominik threw his head back, hissing. You did that again, and again and again until he gripped your hips to stop you.

“Too much?” You asked, leaning down to kiss his neck, enjoying him writhing against you. He shook his head, but he could still see the hesitation in your eyes as you stopped kissing his neck. He snuck his hands underneath your jacket and shirt, rubbing circles onto your soft skin, feeling you relax into him.

"Don't be afraid to take your anger out on me. I can handle it." You picked your head up at those words, moving off from him and giving him a questioning look, wanting to be sure he wasn't uncomfortable. He gave you a sexy smirk that had you internally melting in response, shrugging off his shirt. You took off your own, muscled chest heaving as he eyed your bloodline jacket you threw across the room.

"You'd look better in my jacket." You rose a challenging brow, taking off your bra, smirking when Dom's head snapped down to your chest. You leaned down to his ear, sneaking your hand down to his jeans. Your boobs were pressed against his chest and hot breath against his skin making him shiver. You knew just how to drive him crazy.

"Treat me right tonight and maybe I will wear it." You nipped his skin harshly and palmed his dick at the same time. A moan ripped out of him as he arched into your hand, the last strand of composure he had slipping away from him as you continued to palm him.

"Ahh, please, please...don't stop." He pleaded, the rough material of his jeans rubbing into him deliciously and your hands already felt so good. You were making him feel like he was in heaven and you'd barely even begun.

He whined when you moved your hand away, trying to buck his hips up but you pushed his hips down, giving him a glare. "Did I tell you to move?"

"I'm sorry, mi amor-" Dom tried to mutter out as an apology, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

"I'll let it slide this time, but don't do it again. Did you forget that I'm in charge tonight, mi cielo?" He shook his head, his skin heating up and dick getting harder at your words. If speaking Spanish drove you absolutely crazy, imagine how it made him feel.

"Good. Now take off your pants." He obeyed, and you moved off him so he could sit up and pull them off. Once they were off, you moved on top of him, sitting on his chest. He gave you a pleading look, hands itching to touch you. You nodded, and his lips went to suck one of your boobs, his hands massaging your other one.

"Ahh...fuck Dom." You moaned out, the heat between your thighs only intensifying at the feeling of his warm mouth and soft lips sucking on your nipple. You tangled your fingers through his soft hair, biting your lip to contain your moans so the entirety of the hotel filled with wrestlers and your friends didn't hear you. He licked and nibbled at it making you arch your back and stifle your moans. He smirked into your skin, flicked your other nipple until it hardened, before biting and sucking his way down your chest and belly, your skin on fire from his touch.

Before his hands could travel lower, you pressed your hand against his chest. He quickly pulled away once he felt you pushing him, concerned eyes scanning your body for any injury or discomfort.

"Are you okay, Hermosa? Did I hurt you?" He asked, giving you another once over before you cupped his face to stop making him worriedly look into your eyes.

“No baby, you’d never hurt me.” You gave him a comforting look, reassuring him. He looked into your eyes for anything that said otherwise, and once he found none he let out an internal sigh of relief, letting himself lean into your touch. As much of an asshole he made himself to be on TV, he never wanted to make you uncomfortable.

You smiled when he leaned into your touch, stroking his cheek. You loved seeing this side of him he only reserved for you.

“I just thought you’d like it better like this.” You pushed him until his back hit the bed, straddling him. He groaned when you hovered over his face, his lips inches away from tasting your glistening wet pussy.

“Fuck, are you trying to kill me, mami?” Dom whined out, his voice husky with need as he gripped your thighs, trying to pull you down. You held onto the headboard before he could, stopping his attempts. “Please, let me taste you, mami.” He pleaded, giving you puppy dog eyes that you would fall for in any other circumstance. But you'll give him what he wants soon enough.

“Listen to me and I will.” You smirked at how quickly he quieted down at that, nodding at you. “This night is about me. I'm in control. Don't forget that, and maybe, I'll give you a reward. You understand, baby?”

"I understand, mi amor," Dom answered, his voice almost turning into a whine as he tried to control himself from yanking you and tasting you, he didn't want to risk a punishment from you.

"Good boy.” You cooed, the nickname and your sickly sweet tone making his cock harden even more. But he didn't have time to think about it because you were lowering yourself down, sitting on his face.

Your knees buckled and you immediately let out a moan as Dom sucked your clit harshly, hungrily eating you out and groaning into your pussy, making you moan even more.

It was like an out of body experience; you didn't register the moans coming out of you as he licked and toyed with your clit, egged on by the pretty sounds coming out of you. You grinded your face against him when he licked up and down your cunt, his tongue lapping at your folds. He gripped your thighs even tighter, and let you grip his hair and use him as you pleased.

Your moans got more high pitched and shakier as he used his mouth and strong jaw to work every inch of you, holding you tighter as you squirmed against him. He could tell you were getting closer to he flicked his tongue over your clit again and again, causing you to moan loudly and thread your fingers into the sheets. "F- fuck, oh my god, don't stop, Dom." You cried out.

"I don't plan on it, baby. " He mumbled, his words muffled under your pussy. You moaned at the vibrations of his voice that felt so good against your pussy and sent shivers straight up your spine, threatening to send you over the edge. He noticed your reaction and continued to mumble incoherently as his tongue played with your clit, making you get closer and closer to your high.

You shut your eyes when the pleasure became too much, clenching the sheets even tighter as you came with loud moans that sounded like music to Dom's ears. He helped you ride out your orgasm, licking and slurping your juices up until you were gripping his hair gently and trying to push him away.

Dominik tasted your pussy one last time before coming up to kiss you, smiling against your lips. He looked so pretty, hair matted and messy, his face red and lips soaked with your cum that you could taste as he kissed you like his life depended on it.

"Do I get my reward baby?" He asked, pulling away from the heated kiss, pupils blown out with lust. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his skin breaking out in goosebumps as your lips kissed his sensitive skin, meeting his lips again.

"Of course sweetie, as long as you promise to fuck me so hard I forget everything but you."

He gave you a devilish smile that made your lower body heat up again, and in one swift move scooped you up effortlessly and turned your positions around, smirking down at your naked form.

"I promise. And you know I don't break my promises, mi corazon." His voice dropped into a low sexy whisper, eyes never leaving you like he couldn't wait- needed- to have you right then and there. He gave you one last smirk before lowering down and kissing you with intensity, with passion, like he was trying to tell you all the ways you made him high on you, how you were like a drug that he couldn't let go even if he wanted to.

And as his hands lowered down again, and found that one spot that made your eyes roll back and his cock ache when your body arched into him as if you couldn't get enough of his fingers, he knew he definitely did not want to let you go.

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

You stirred awake gently, shifting under the sheets and feeling warmth surrounding you. Your tired limbs ached as you groggily turned, snuggling and trying to get closer to the heat, feeling a cool breath over your skin. It wasn't until you felt a soft, familiar breath against your neck that your eyes fluttered open, seeing Dominik 's face leaned in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

You smiled at his sleeping form that was cutely attached to you like a koala bear, like he couldn't get enough of you even while he was sleeping. You managed to move away from him just enough to get your phone from the nightstand, laughing quietly when Dom quickly pulled you back into his arms.

You snuggled back into his arms, turning on your phone and seeing the multiple missed calls and new messages you had come through from the twins, Paul and Solo, and surprisingly Rhea while your phone was silent while you and Dom were definitely the opposite. You didn't even bother opening Paul, Jimmy or Romans messages, you didn't have the energy for it.

You opened Rhea’s message first, the two of you were close but she only texted you for emergencies, so you were a bit worried.

DOM’S DOM So, did you and Dom Dom have fun last night?

You weren’t surprised. It was like she had a sixth sense for when you and Dom hooked up.

Yes, we did. I’m not even gonna ask how you know. Mami always knows sweetheart. Bit disappointed you didn’t come to my room though. I haven’t seen you in forever! I can see you later if you let me use you as a cover.. please? Can't exactly tell my brothers about Dominik, can I? You know I can’t say no to you and I can't resist seeing your cute little ass. Catch you later, princess. 🖤 Thank you! See you later babe💗

JEY<3

Yo sis, I know you still mad but I ain't asking you to talk to them, but at least let me know if you're safe or not.

You smiled at his concern, texting him back. He was one of the few in your family who didn't annoy you, aside from Solo.

Yeah, I'm good, just resting up. Just know I'm not mad at you though, just those two bozo heads. See you later <3

You then opened, and frowned, at Solo’s message.

Solo<3

So you with a guy?

There was no way he knew. You weren’t even at the same hotel?! Why and how the hell did he suspect it?

No, I was rooming with Rhea last night. Why are you asking? Just making sure you good. Roman’s kinda pissed at you. He wants to see you later. I’m good, and Roman can stay pissed for as long as he wants. I said nothing but the truth.

You shut your phone off, not wanting to think about your family acting like man children any longer.

You smiled and let out a sigh when you felt Dom trail kisses down on your neck, it was like he could read your mind. It was one the many things you loved about him; he knew what you needed before you yourself even knew. You leaned back, giving him more access to your neck, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin. He continued kissing your skin for a few more moments before propping himself up and meeting your eyes, a soft smile on his face as he took you in.

“You sleep well, hermosa?” He asked with that husky morning voice you always wanted to wake up to as his eyes raked over your form, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin.

“That was the best sleep I’ve had in a while.” You admitted, giggling at the satisfied smirk that played on his lips.

"I'm glad I could tire you out." Dom teased you, smirk widening when you leaned closer to him to kiss him. Your fingers tracing a path down his chest as you slowly kissed him, savoring the taste of morning on his lips. His arms pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss as if trying to convey all the desire that had built up during the night.

Breaking the kiss, you traced your fingers lightly along the contours of his jawline, savoring the feel of his stubble beneath your touch. He relaxed into your touch, his hazel eyes gazing at you with a knowing look.

"Your idiot family still bothering you?" Dominik treaded lightly, not wanting to ruin the mood.

You rolled your eyes at the mention of them. "They aren't idiots." You gave him a pointed look when he lifted up a brow and he raised his hands up in defense. "But yes, Roman wanted to meet up with me."

"To apologize to you, right?" Dom moved away from you and sat up when he was met with silence and a guilty look. "Don't tell me your thinking of apologizing to him, mi corazon."

"I don't know, Dom," you sighed, also sitting up and running a hand across your face. "I know Jimmy will apologize to me, he loves me too much to stay mad at me. But Roman would rather drop dead than apologize. And it'll just cause tension if we act like we are in a cold war with each other."

Your heart hurt at the look Dominik was giving you, but you didn't know what else to do except reassure him. "Trust me, it's just easier this way."

"It would be easier if you just joined Judgment Day!"

You sighed and shook your head at Dominiks words. It wasn't the first time he brought it up, and it wouldn't be the last time you refused his offer either. After all those late nights hanging out after shows at Waffle House or other rendezvous activities you'd have, with the two of you cuddled up next to each other, away from the pressure of famous families and overzealous egos, when nothing else but the moon could shine a light on your innermost thoughts, was when he would gain the courage to ask you.

You always looked like you were close to considering it, but it would turn morning and all signs of even maybe accepting it would wash away and be replaced with fear and with you bringing up Roman. And he'd drop it, but he never understood why you did. He could protect you, give you the power you wanted with the Judgment Day! Why didn't you trust him? Why were you so scared of Roman?

"You know more than anyone I can't do that, Dom."

"But you can! You want to stay at the top, we can keep you there!" Dominik insisted, running a hand through his hair frustratingly. "The guys will like you, and Rhea already loves you! We won't treat you like Roman. He treats you like—"

"Like family." you finished his sentence, a hint of bitterness in your voice and a look Dominik couldn't place on your face. "And that's why I can't leave him. At least, not right now."

Dominik perked up at your last sentence, his eyes searching yours for a hint of understanding. "Not right now?" he questioned, hope flickering in his gaze.

You gave him a small smile, the look in your eyes telling more than words could. "Not right now."

And that was all the confirmation he needed. He didn't need to know anything else- he knew you'd handle it and come to him when the time was right.

His smile mirrored yours as you moved closer to him, your tone shifted from serious to teasing, wanting to change the tense mood. "But until then, don't get in trouble with my family. Solo already suspects us, I don't need him trying to beat your ass."

Dominik laughed, wrapping an arm around you, the tension between you two dissipating as he responded, "Baby don't worry, you know I can take him."

You gave him an amused smile and leaned into him. "Oh, is that why you were hiding behind Rhea last night?"

Dominik chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I wasn't hiding behind her! I was just... checking out the best angle to hit him, y'know?"

"Mhm, whatever you say baby." You mocked him, giggling at the pout he gave you and deciding to kiss it off of him. Dominik couldn't help but smile against your lips as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving in sync with yours.

Breaking the kiss, you grinned up at him before looking up at the clock and seeing the time.

"Speaking of Rhea, I promise I would hang out with her later. So I better get out of bed before she beats me up." You barely made a move to get out of bed before Dominik whined and pulled you on top of him.

"Can't you stay here longer? She can wait." Dominik pleaded with puppy dog eyes, begging you to stay with him.

You couldn't help but smile at his puppy dog eyes and how he pulled you back onto the bed. "You're too cute, you know that?"

Dominik grinned, his arms wrapped around you as he nuzzled your neck. "So, does that mean you're staying?"

Your hands gently played with the ends of his hair, "How about this? We hop in the shower, make up for lost time, and once we're all clean and pretty, we can go grab some breakfast, and then I'll meet up with Rhea. Deal?"

Dominiks face lit up with a mischievous grin at the thought of you in the shower with him.

"Deal!" he replied enthusiastically, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. He then reluctantly let you go and climbed out of bed, extending a hand to help you up.

You accepted his hand, allowing him to pull you out of bed and lead you to the bathroom. As soon as all of your clothes were shed and the water was on, Dominik picked you up and smashed his lips onto yours, lifting you and bringing the both of you in the shower.

"Dominik... Not now." You managed to protest between kisses as the warm water cascaded over both of you. He ignored your protests in favor of the moans sputtering out of you as he trailed his lips down your neck, sucking harshly into your supple skin.

"Hermosa, I want to taste my breakfast right now." He mumbled into your skin, addicted to the blissed out expression on your face as continued kissing you, lowering himself onto his knees. He was just enamored and completely addicted to you and the hold you had on him.

And you couldn't get enough of him either, just as addicted to him as he was to you. He was just purely addictive- his personality, his charm, his aura, just him. And as you grabbed a fistful of his hair on the back of his head and guided him right where you wanted him, you knew two things.

Rhea would kill you both after this.

And 2, that you were officially a goner for Dominik. The man who many on the roster called a snake, a manipulative, a liar, a sell out. A man who burned everything he hurt to the ground.

But you wanna know what the scary part was? That you didn't even care.

Not one bit.

And if you got burned?

You would gladly get engulfed in flames if somewhere in that fire you'd get the warmth of his love.

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tojis-favorite · 7 months

Text

Speechless

Your and Toji’s relationship was not a perfect one. You two were on and off, always arguing about the pettist things, so you took it upon yourself to suggest a break. There was no way you guys were going to break out of this cycle without some type apart to breathe.

Toji hated this; he was always checking up on you, sending you money out of nowhere. It didn't help that his friends were your biggest ops (not really lol). Let you even stand near another guy and it's being reported back to him within the hour.

That is exactly what was the case tonight. Your friend had done some serious convincing for you to go to this kickback that one of her friends was throwing. Deciding why not you got dressed, drank a little liquor and were now walking into the crowded house.

“Bitch this is not a kickback everyone and their mama is here.” You huffed out irritated already knowing one of Toji’s friends might be in the building. “You need to live who gives a fuck if there here.” She said dragging you deeper into the crowds of people.

Unknown to you, someone had already spotted you being one of tojis friend’s Geto (a/n omg imagine.) “Gojo do you see what I see?” Turning his head he sees you and your friend being approached by two guys getting ready to hit on you. Already having his phone out Gojo goes to his camera, snapping a picture of you smiling as the guy puts his hand on your lower back.

Sending it to Toji with the address attached he shows Geto his phone and they both laugh and continue to enjoy the party.

It has been well over forty minutes since you got to the party and you did not regret coming; you were meeting new people and you were having fun doing so. But you were hot and you knew you probably looked a mess due to the constant drinks you have been given to by your best friend.

“I need to go to the bathroom!” You exclaimed to your friend in the loud room and she gave you a thumbs up before walking behind you to look for the bathroom. “I can take her.” A deep voice chimed in and you side-eye your best friend to make sure she heard the same thing.

“Girl say the word and we’ll jump him right now.’’ She said seriously in her drunken state, shaking her head and saying “No it’s fine, i’ll be back.” You walk toward the staries to the bathroom. “Geto you guys make sure her friend is okay until we get back, make sure she drinks some water.” Toji told his two friends before making his way behind you.

Entering the bathroom first Toji follows behind you and closes the door locking it. Crossing his arms together the first thing he says is “This is what we're doing now?” Confused, you reply “What?” Toji tilts his head “What? Were we just letting random strangers in our face?” He said, mocking your voice.

“Toji don’t start this, I'm single-” “No you're not” his strong voice cuts in “You never have been and you never will be, no other person is going to take care of you the way I do and no other person can make you feel the way I do.”

Walking toward you he lifts you up on the bathroom sink and stands in between your legs. “When are you going to stop playing and come back to me?” You didn't know if it was the liquor in your system or if it was the way he said it (a/n it was both lmao) but you were feeling some type of way.

You did miss him and the in between of your legs were tingling… he must have known because he reached under your dress/skirt and put his fingers inside of you. “Your not wear any panties ethier I should fucking kill you.” He whispered in your ear as you leaned back into the mirror, mouth open as silent moans came out of your mouth.

Bending down Toji got on his knees as he circled his lips around your clit with his tongue and fingers going at the same pace. “Fuck Toji keep going please.” You begged pushing your hips deeper into his face causing him to groan with a mouth full of your pussy.

Going faster he shakes his head side to side as you felt his hair tickling the inside of your thighs. Grabbing his head you move your hips to feel your release approaching as your whole body starts to shake.

Put in a split second you feel nothing. The knot in your stomach is no longer there. Toji fingers were no longer inside of you and his mouth was no longer giving you pleasure.

“Come on Ms. Single lady I need to get you and your bestie home.” Toji smirks as he pulls you off of the counter and pushes you toward the door

Leaving you unfinished and speechless.

Sorry for being gone for so long a lot was happening in my personal life. I do have a surprise for next month so stay tuned!

I low key wanna start writing for Connie from aot should I?

Part 2???

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feeder86 · 2 months

Text

Selfish

“Why are you arranging to go out with the boys? You know we’re going up to help my parents with redecorating this weekend!” Lucy complained, standing straight up and looking down at Ryan, laid out on the couch.

“We’re doing what?” Ryan asked, completely perplexed. “We were there last weekend!”

“Yeah, and I told my dad you’d give him a hand with the wallpapering this next weekend as well,” Lucy continued in her whining tone.

“Their entire lounge?” Ryan shot back. “Nobody told me!”

“Well…” Lucy mumbled, suddenly realising that Ryan was right. “I’m telling you now.”

Ryan huffed in frustration. He hadn’t had a night out with the boys in months. He’d thought, when he married Lucy, that he was setting himself up for a good life. She didn’t want kids, she wasn’t crazy about him visiting the gym all the time and she was a fully qualified chef! However, two years in and Ryan had never had so little time for himself, endlessly fixing up their apartment just as Lucy wanted it, then constantly heading out to see her parents; always being signed up for some tedious maintenance tasks now that Lucy’s dad was getting on a bit and living off his retirement income. “Fine,” he sighed, deleting his planned message to the group chat with the boys. “I guess I can see my friends when I’ve got a couple of weeks off next month.”

“Oh, yes!” Lucy nodded, making Ryan instantly regret reminding her about his time off. The cogs in her head clearly rolling into action, imagining all of the jobs he could get done in that time.

“Ryan!” cheered his buddies a full nine weeks later, amazed that he had actually made it out. “We haven’t seen you in ages!”

“I’m only here for one of two drinks. I dropped Lucy off in town to do some shopping,” he explained to them, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“You’re not coming to the club?” Adam asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise after giving him the biggest hug.

“No… no. I wish I could, but…” he grumbled, considering the best way to explain how much Lucy was monopolising his time; how frustrating and demanding she had become since they got married. . “...I’ve got commitments,” he simply stated, deciding not to poison his time with his friends by complaining about the person who had kept him away from them for so long.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Jack jumped in, filling the silent void that was killing the mood. “Life happens.”

“Jack!” Ryan exclaimed, seeing his high school best friend and doing a slight double take. The guy had altered quite a bit since Ryan last saw him. Where had that double chin come from? How was he filling that shirt with all that padding in his stomach? What the hell had happened? “How long has it been, buddy?”

“I saw you at Ginny and Fran’s house warming, about four months ago,” he answered. “I introduced you to my new girlfriend, Michelle.”

“Oh, yeah,” I remember, Ryan nodded, thinking back to how drunk Lucy had been that night, and how early they had had to leave. But Jack hadn’t looked so overweight back then. They’d tried out their friends’ new swimming pool. Jack had been one of the first ones in. He definitely wasn’t out of shape. Not like he appeared to be now.

As luck would have it, when the guys all went to grab seats, Ryan ended up next to Jack, right on the end of a long, rectangular table. Back in their high school days, the pair of them had been the best of friends, and that old rapport immediately came back every time they met; even after months of separation. Jack had always been the bad influence that Ryan’s parents had never approved of. He’d been banned from hanging out with the guy on multiple occasions when he was growing up and, even now, he still felt like he was doing something he shouldn’t, giggling away at the crude jokes that tumbled out of Jack’s mouth with ease.

“So, things are going well with Michelle?” Ryan asked, spotting that Jack had already referenced her several times in their conversation.

“Things are going great!” Jack beamed. He leaned in a little closer, clearly not wanting the other guys to hear. “We’ve even talked about getting married!”

At this, Ryan’s eyebrows flew up. “Married? After four months?” he whispered back, knowing that Jack didn’t want this broadcasting. He remembered how promiscuous his friend had been during his college days. If Ryan had been asked to pick any one of the guys here who was least likely to ever settle down, he would have chosen Jack without a second thought.

“I know!” Jack beamed, leaning back and placing his hands on the top of his stout little paunch, which jutted out into a proper shelf as they sat down. “I’m so ready for it though,” he smiled, seeming to rub his stomach mindlessly. “I’m actually really excited about the idea.”

Round and round Jack’s hands went, rubbing that tight ball of stomach fat, pulling Ryan’s gaze into it. “I’m happy for you,” he mumbled back.

Jack looked around, checking that no one else was listening in, then he turned himself a little more into Ryan, about to divulge even more private information. “Michelle’s super kinky!” he whispered.

Ryan chuckled and leaned in as well. His own sex life was so monotonous these days, he was actually quite ready to hear about someone else having a good time. “Oh yeah? She certainly looked pretty flexible when I met her that one time,” he grinned, settling into dirty ‘guy talk’ with enthusiasm.

“Oh, buddy!” Jack sighed, rolling his eyes and giving a huge exhale. “You would not believe it. She has me wrapped around her little finger. Absolutely anything she wants, I do for her.”

“That doesn’t sound too dissimilar to me and Lucy,” Ryan quipped, chuckling at his own joke.

“No, I’m not talking about boring shit, like decorating,” Jack shot back, having heard all about Ryan’s grumblings. “I’m talking about really kinky, submissive stuff.”

“Really?” Ryan smirked. “I never thought she’d be the dominant type.”

“No,” Jack agreed enthusiastically. “No one else knows. She hides it really well.”

Ryan had to admit that he was getting a little turned on. “So, what type of stuff does she make you do?” he asked next; his eyes twinkling with boyish interest, just as much as Jack’s were.

“All sorts,” Jack answered, his hands slipping onto his gut again. “When we started going out, I was still trying to act like the playboy I used to be. Michelle was having none of it. She’s put guys like me in their place before. Trust me, I’ve seen the pictures!” he smirked.”But her biggest turn on is making sure I overeat and get bigger.”

“Seriously?” Ryan asked, now understanding why Jack kept on holding his stomach. “I thought girls hated it when guys put on weight?”

“It’s an absolute fucking dream!” Jack replied, lowering his voice even further. Just the fact that he had sworn showed Ryan how turned on his friend was, simply by talking about it. “I get home and she’ll sit me in my gaming chair and set everything up for me. Then she brings me endless snacks and beers; a few sodas, cream cakes. Michelle won’t even let me get up. I do nothing around my apartment at all! No washing, no cleaning and certainly no cooking! She gets off on controlling my entire lifestyle when I’m at home. Then rewarding me for it.”

“Dude, that’s amazing!” Ryan had to agree, feeling surprisingly jealous. He’d been up until almost midnight last night, fixing a new shelf for Lucy’s candles, whilst his buddy Jack had been gaming, eating and getting pleasured the entire time.

“You see why I’m so keen to marry her now?” Jack joked back. “Can you believe it? I’m actually living out our dream that we used to talk about in high school.”

Ryan looked a little perplexed, trying to remember what they used to talk about ten years ago.

In turn, Jack seemed a little surprised that Ryan was struggling to recall. “You remember? Mr Hanson was such a bad gym teacher, we used to joke that we would just find some girls who liked fat guys and never have to put on a pair of itchy gym shorts again.”

“Oh, yeah!” Ryan chuckled. “That worked out well for me,” he sighed sarcastically. “I ended up marrying a professional chef, but I’m now ten pounds lighter than I was when we married.”

“Dude, there are other girls out there,” Jack went on enthusiastically. “Believe me! My eyes have been opened in these last few months! If you want the life that I’ve got…” he proclaimed, rubbing his stomach once more, “trust me, you can have it!”

Ryan nodded. No one else had dared to suggest he thought about a life beyond Lucy. Whenever he raised his concerns or annoyances about their marriage, people were keen to stamp them out, reminding him, in their accusatory tones, that marriage was all about compromising. Now, here was Jack, actively encouraging him to imagine being with someone else instead. It was the reason why Jack was, and always would be, Ryan’s very best friend.

Ryan looked at himself in the mirror a couple of weeks later. It was Sunday night. He should have been well rested, and yet he looked nothing but tired. The dirt under his fingernails from digging up Lucy’s parents’ garden all weekend was still visible in places, despite scrubbing for so long in the shower. His ribs were showing in his chest and, although he was built with plenty of muscle, he’d never looked so lanky and slim in his life. He thought of Jack and his life of pleasure and luxury. This… this tiredness and exhaustion was not what he wanted for himself. He looked almost ill.

Life had to change.

Ryan raised his cell phone to the mirror and took a picture of himself. This would be his lowest point, he decided with determination. From now on, things were going to change. He never wanted to see himself like this ever again.

“What’s all this?” Lucy complained, slipping into Ryan’s truck on their way to the supermarket. She held up several pieces of packaging, wrappers from fast food places and sugary snacks. “Is this what you’ve been eating when you’ve been in work this week?”

Ryan nodded without shame. “I feel like I’m too skinny. I’m trying to put on a few pounds.”

“Since when?” Lucy blasted back indignantly. “I’ve never told you you’re too skinny. I like the way you look.”

“I don’t,” Ryan shrugged. “I’ve never liked being skinny. I was always bigger than this growing up. In fact, I was actually quite chubby when I started high school.”

“Well, no. Sorry,” Lucy stated, without compromise. “I’m your wife, and I say no.”

Ryan looked at her in disbelief. “It’s my body,” he declared. “And I want to feel good about it.”

“I said no!” Lucy spat, brushing all the packaging into the footwell and sitting herself down. “Now, let’s talk about something else.”

Ryan got in, sat down and slammed the door shut, neither of them speaking for the entire ride.

‘Fastest ways to gain weight’ Ryan typed into the internet search that evening after Lucy had gone to bed. He quickly skipped through anything that dealt with muscle gains and focused solely on those that promoted increases in fat. He may have married Lucy, but she didn’t own him. In fact, she was the one who needed to learn that more than anyone. This was one ‘no’ that he wasn’t about to cave into.

“You’re looking well,” cried Ryan’s aunt as he stopped over to fix her leaking tap.

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “I feel quite well,” he agreed. “I’ve been trying to put some weight back on these last few weeks. I was starting to get far too skinny.”

“I was saying that to your mom, but she didn’t agree with me. You had gone dreadfully skinny.”

Ryan nodded in agreement. He had always been much more on his aunt’s wavelength than anyone else in his family. “I found some recipes online and I buy in these little calorie shakes that seem to work well on me. I’ve put on about 20lbs altogether,” he explained, raising his shirt briefly to show that his stomach was indeed a little thicker. “Lucy isn’t too pleased about it. But she’s never happy these days.”

“Well, you were never skinny growing up, were you?” his aunt nodded. “You always had a sweet tooth, I remember. You used to eat me out of house and home when you came over!”

“That’s why I’m so tall,” Ryan laughed. “I was always so well fed growing up.”

The pair of them laughed and Ryan packed up his things. In the old days, he would have headed straight home to his wife, but now he was feeling the need to be much more selfish, heading istead to the fast food place he had grown quite attached to and determined that he would at last defeat the Mega Monster Meal that had, up until now, eluded him.

“Come on, we’ve got to go!” Lucy complained, checking the time as Ryan rushed about after his shower. He’d been late home, getting caught up at a job, sending his wife into a tailspin as she tried to get him ready for her friend’s engagement party. She’d laid his suit out on the bed, his underwear, shoes and socks; knowing exactly how she wanted him to look.

Ryan hated being rushed. So what if they missed the first twenty minutes? Was the world really going to end? It was the side of Lucy he hated most, struggling to pull his socks on as his feet were still so wet.

“Oh,” Ryan mumbled, sucking in his stomach and trying to button up the suit pants. He tugged and pulled, holding his breath as much as he could. “I’m too big for them!” he chuckled with amusement, remembering that he had bought the suit for a wedding less than a year ago, when he was much skinnier. “What a waste of money, these were!” he joked lightheartedly. “I only got to wear them once!”

Lucy stared on in horror. She’d told him again and again to cut down on his eating. Couldn’t he see how bad he looked? Wasn’t he ashamed of how his stomach was starting to develop into a little paunch.

“Relax,” he whispered back, trying to calm her down. “I’ll just pair the jacket with my jeans and then we can head straight out.”

However, Lucy’s face had flushed with anger. “No,” she declared, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m going by myself. I’m not being seen with you, looking like this.”

Ryan stared at her in disbelief. He didn’t have words, listening as she stormed down the stairs and threw the front door closed. He heard her car start and he peeked out the window as that too stormed off down the street; out of view.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Ryan threw himself down onto the bed; still dressed only in his underwear and socks. How had he married someone so fucking unreasonable? She was just so…

But then a thought came to Ryan, making his brain tingle into life. Had he actually just been given the night to himself? The whole house? Just him? All evening?

He looked down at his thicker stomach and smiled with delight at it. “Thank you!” he laughed aloud, managing to pinch a little and jiggle it in happiness. He felt a twitch in his groin, realising that with the night to himself, he could watch porn or do anything that he wanted. He could order food in. Lots of it! “Yes!”, he nodded, getting more excited and turned on now. This was his night. Free reign to be as selfish as he liked.

Ryan proceeded to indulge himself in every way possible, looking down at his bloated stomach a couple of hours later. Maybe this was it, he thought to himself. Maybe this was the way out of his miserable life with Lucy. He could seize upon her dislike of his weight gain and run with it. Why stop? He’d certainly gone beyond the point of denying himself for the sake of her ideals. There was a path in front of him, the exit sign shining brightly and a new life within his reach. He just needed to have the courage to reach for it.

“A Saturday night to yourself?” Jack laughed, surprised that Ryan had actually followed up on his promises and made it out for a drink. “You must have been a very good boy!” he teased.

Ryan hugged his friend and stood back to admire him slightly. Jack had grown wider since he’d seen him last, his hips and love handles spreading. Teh guy’s face was bigger, cheeks blooming large. And underneath his t-shirt, Ryan could see that the man’s nipples had become pointed, pressing outwards from his puffy former pecs. “I can see that you’ve been having a very good time of things!” he joked, being in the know about how Jack’s kinky sex life worked with his girlfriend.

“I could say the same about you!” Jack smirked back, poking Ryan in his tight little paunch. “Have you and Lucy been having your own kinky fun?” he teased.

“We’re not really talking at the moment, dude,” Ryan explained straight away; keen that he didn’t have to spend the entire night talking about her. “I want out. I’ve reached the end.”

Jack winced sympathetically. “I can’t say that I’m all that surprised after the way you were talking last time. But that still doesn’t explain this,” he pointed back at Ryan’s middle, smirking.

Ryan laughed, having forgottem how quickly Jack could lift his spirits with his cheeky humour. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied coyly, smiling with just as much mischief.

“Yes you do!” Jack laughed back, patting Ryan’s paunch properly now. “Did you do it on purpose? Is this to piss Lucy off?”

Again, Ryan laughed. He shruged his shoulders. “Yeah,” he nodded in surprise at Jack’s bluntness. There wasn’t anyone else in the world he could imagine himself admitting this to. “I guess I did,” he smiled, resting his hand over his thicker middle like it was his new prized pet.

“Dude, that’s so awesome!” Jack blasted; his face lighting up with all the enthusiasm Ryan remembered when the pair of them used to get up to mischief in high school. “You love it, don’t you?”

Ryan felt like he was dealing with an excitable puppy, but the interest was infectious. “Well, I can’t say I’m against it,” he replied diplomatically.

“Michelle is going to love this when I tell her,” Jack pressed on, ordering them both a couple of beers. “She said at the pool party that you would make a good fatty.”

“She did?” Ryan asked, surprised that Michelle would talk about other guys in that way.

“Absolutely,” Jack nodded. “She said you’re like me; a similar build; perfect for fattening up, apparently.”

“She really is a kinky one, your Michelle, isn’t she?” Ryan chuckled, feeling strangely aroused by the idea of her talking about him like this.

“How far are you planning on taking it?” Jack pressed him.

“The weight gain? Um, well. I’m not really thinking about anything really. I’m just having some fun,” he answered honestly.

“Dude, if you’re ever going to grow a gut in your lifetime, getting a divorce is one of them.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ryan asked, only half listening now as he tried to work out why there was so much blood pumping into his groin.

“A divorce is like a free pass for so many things. No one will bat an eyelid if you start getting properly fat once you two separate.”

“Well, we’re not quite there yet,” Ryan backtracked, wincing slightly as the word ‘divorce’ came up so casually in their conversation. Lucy hadn’t mentioned it to him yet, and neither had he to her.

“Just imagine it though,” Jack encouraged him. “You, sitting in your own apartment somewhere, drinking as much beer and eating as much pizza as you want after work. No Lucy complaining in the background and telling you off. No massive list of jobs to be completed at the weekend.”

“That does sound pretty sweet,” Ryan admitted; his dick now inexplicably full of blood.

“I just can’t wait to tell Michelle,” Jack said again, more delighted than ever as the pair of them settled in to watch the football game on the big screen.

The realities of splitting from his wife were somewhat different from the fantasies that Jack tried to portray, Ryan soon realised. Divorce was quickly turning into the most expensive thing he had ever done. Lucy’s parents, who had been too impoverished to hire a gardener, or a decorator, or a maintenance guy the entire time he had been married to Lucy, suddenly stumped up the cash to pay for the most cut-throat, killer lawyer for their daughter. With his head in his hands, Ryan soon realised that he was going to have to start from scratch: no home, no pensions, not even his truck for work. The only place that he could afford to live was a room in an apartment downtown, sharing with two students from the local college. Twenty nine years old and here he was, right back at the starting line.

Of the two guys he now lived with, Ryan didn’t see much of Paul, the computer science major. He was often out in the library, or hiding out in his bedroom. That worked fine. With his life turned so upside down, Ryan wasn’t exactly wanting to be dragged out to parties midweek when he had work the next morning. No, the only real pain in Ryan’s ass was Ash; the smart-mouthed literature student with a carefree attitude to life that frustrated Ryan to no end.

“You know, when you get a real job, you’re not going to be able to sit up until 3am watching a movie marathon with your waste of space boyfriend,” he complained at the guy one evening, tired from an exhausting day in work, having been constantly woken by the pair of young lovers laughing so hard at the screen.

“Fine. Whatever,” Ash huffed. “I’ve had a stressful day, okay. I don’t need this.”

“Stressful?” Ryan parroted, feeling the rage bubbling up inside him. “You want to know about stress?” he growled. “You’ve been sitting inside all day typing up an assignment on a computer screen. That’s not what real stress looks like. You’re in college - you have absolutely no idea about the real world; about trying to actually earn a living!”

Ash rolled his eyes. He’d heard it all before.

Sure, Lucy knew how to press Ryan’s buttons, but this boy was on a whole other level. “You graduate with your masters in nine months!” he blasted. “What the hell do you expect to do then? You’ve got no idea, have you? How can you just wander so aimlessly through life?”

“What does it matter?” Ash sighed. “Things always work out in the end.”

“It matters because, trust me, your twenties will be over in a flash and you need to start getting somewhere in life. Not just watching movies until 3am! And certainly not with someone like Ben! You’re just setting yourself up for failure, and it pisses me off!”

“Like you, you mean?” Ash shot back, visibly annoyed. “You’ve done the whole marriage thing, the house, the cars. Yet, you're back here, sharing a shitty apartment with a couple of students. You did everything right, everything the grown-ups told you, and now look at you! Sometimes life is just like that. So stop taking out your frustrations on me and start focusing on yourself instead!”

Ryan didn’t respond. He stormed off to his room and threw himself onto the bed. Then he took a few breaths and considered what Ash had actually said to him. The guy had been right: he was taking his anger out on him. Ash was young, more academically bright than Ryan had ever been, good looking and full of personality. He had his whole life in front of him without any major mistakes under his belt yet. So why did Ryan feel the need to be such an asshole to him?

Despite not officially apologising, Ryan did make an effort to be nicer to Ash over the coming days. He still didn’t care for Ben, the guy's boyfriend, feeling that Ash could do much better. But he was polite and courteous, never failing to put in his earplugs when he knew they were going to be watching TV until late.

Ryan’s weight had not been a priority for him since he’d moved in. Any erotic fantasies he’d indulged himself in last year were thoroughly dampened by the divorce. Yet, his weight continued to climb, spurred on by the cheap, high carbohydrate diet he fell into whilst living in the apartment.

When he was with Lucy, Ryan had indulged himself in sugary treats and even high calorie supplements that he would now consider an eyewatering drain on his monthly budget. He was having to to work harder than ever to bring in the money and his paunch seemed to lose that fluffy softness of his early gains, solidifying into something firmer and more rounded as it continued to push itself out from under his chest.

New clothes were also a luxury that Ryan could ill-afford. His t-shirts fitted awkwardly around the swell of his stomach and there were many times in work when he felt a cool breeze on his butt crack. Beer was the only luxury he allowed himself in those early days, especially on the weekends, when Paul usually went back to visit his family and Ash was generally out partying with his boyfriend. In those few, blissful hours, he could guzzle down his beers whilst sitting in his underwear in front of the shared TV screen, appreciating exactly why he had given up his marriage. Life was hard, but it wasn’t always awful.

Through word of mouth, Ryan had started picking up more work on some of the other rental properties for students that littered this area of town. Desperate for the work, Ryan had been undercutting people quite dramatically in order to guarantee an income for himself. However, trying to get an early start on these types of properties was never as easy. Students were inherently lazy, he decided, whilst banging on the door of one apartment, trying to get someone to let him in. After a full five minutes, a groggy looking guy crawled to the door wearing only his underwear and a t-shirt that was back to front.

“Your landlord sent me to see your air con,” Ryan eventually explained.

Without a word, the exhausted guy simply opened the door further and let Ryan get by. “You’re not going to be noisy are you?” he eventually asked. “My boyfriend is still asleep.”

Ryan looked at his watch. It was almost 10.30 in the morning. Why would anyone still be asleep now?

“It’s okay. I’m getting up anyway,” yawned another guy, waddling sleepily from the bedroom and giving his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek. It was only then that Ryan clocked him. It was Ben, Ash’s obviously cheating boyfriend; the guy’s face suddenly looking considerably more alert as he too recognised Ryan.

“You’re not going to tell Ash, are you?” Ben shouted, having followed Ryan out of the apartment the second he had finished up; safely out of earshot of his second boyfriend.

“Of course I am,” Ryan replied simply, continuing to walk away, without stopping.

“You’re just going to make him miserable,” the guy shot back. “Is that what you want?”

At this, Ryan laughed. Guilty people always seemed to have such a terrific way of turning things back around on the other person. “Trust me,” he sniggered. “He’ll be way better off without someone like you in his life.”

“Do you think it was easy for me with Ash?” Ben started next; his tone shifting to something nastier. “It’s not exactly easy trying to feel special when your boyfriend has a massive crush on the pot-bellied daddy bear he shares an apartment with. How do you think that made me feel?”

“What are you even talking about?” Ryan laughed, surprised at how far Ben was going with his bullshit. A daddy bear? He was only six years older than Ash.

“Oh, come on. You know exactly what you’re doing,” Ben snapped back, getting more viscious as he realised that Ryan wasn’t willing to compromise with him. “You’re always there, or strutting about in just your underwear, drinking your beers in the living area and being overly friendly. You’ve been trying to fuck things up for the two of us for ages.”

Now Ryan did stop, turning to face Ben properly. “What planet are you living on?” he asked, completely flabbergasted. “I just try to be pleasant. I’m not trying to do anything.”

“Prove it then,” Ben shot back, seizing upon an opportunity. “If you’re really not trying to fuck things up between us, you’ll let this one little indiscretion slide.”

If Ryan hadn’t just had the hardest year of his life, dealing with some of the most despicable, bullying lawyers out there, he may have fallen for Ben’s game. As it was, he wasn’t afraid of standing his ground. “Tell him by the time I get home later. Or I will.”

Ryan crept into the apartment later that evening, finding Paul in the kitchen. “You missed some drama today,” he sighed. “Ash and Ben broke up. I walked in on it all before. It was so awkward.”

“Is Ash okay?” Ryan asked, relieved that Ben had listened to his ultimatum and done the deed himself.

“He’s in his room,” Paul nodded over to the bedroom door. “We’d best leave him be.”

Ryan nodded in complete agreement, deciding to hide out in his room that evening so that Ash didn’t need to see anyone when he would inevitably have to come out for a glass of water, or to use the bathroom.

The evening was slipping away and Ryan had just finished a TV series that he had been charging through for the last two weeks. There was still an hour until he would need to get to sleep; enough time for one last beer, before the inevitable daily grind would start all over again. He strutted out of his bedroom and made for the refrigerator, pausing only briefly to crack the can open and chug a little of it. He burped quietly, finding that the first few mouthfuls of fresh beer always made him the most gassy. Then, suddenly, he heard the door to Ash’s room opening and he stood there, feeling completely caught out.

“Hi,” Ash whispered, not making any pretenses that he was here for any other reason than to see Ryan.

Feeling incredibly awkward, Ryan now regretted coming out of his room without a shirt on; his bloated pot belly on full display. Before today, he wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but Ben’s words had planted an unpleasant seed in his mind that made him question everything he did a little bit more. “I’m sorry to hear about Ben,” he stated straight away. “How are you doing?”

Ash sighed and began to pour his heart out. He knew all about Ryan’s discovery earlier that day and he thanked the guy for doing the right thing.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Ryan nodded, swigging the last of his beer and crushing the can for recycling. He shouldn’t have really had another one. His stomach felt quite painfully bloated and tight after it.

“Oh, and about those things that Ben said to you,” Ash quickly jumped in, seeing that Ryan was heading back to his room. “I hope it’s not going to make things awkward between us.”

Ryan had to think for a second about what Ash was getting at. The crush? Was Ben actually telling the truth about that? “Um, no. Not at all,” he mumbled back, rubbing his hair with a little embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, finally making his escape.

An evening out with Jack was exactly what Ryan needed a couple of weekends later, as Ryan’s divorce was at last finalised. Unlike Ryan’s months of hell, Jack’s appearance was symbolic of a life of sheer indulgence and pleasure. Unlike Ryan, his body was pure softness, with blubber beginning to creep its way into the guy’s neck and upper arms. His stomach had swollen quite considerably and his butt had a surprising width to it that Ryan had not expected.

“Listen, I didn’t want to message you about this. I kind of feel pretty bad asking you in some ways, knowing what you’re going through,” Jack started after Ryan had finished explaining how the divorce had eventually played out. “I wanted you to be my best man.”

Ryan smiled brightly. “Of course I will,” he beamed, getting up to hug his old friend warmly as he stayed sitting in his chair.

“Thanks,” Jack smiled. “It’s not going to be a huge wedding. Not everyone approves,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“How do you mean?” Ryan asked, sensing that Jack needed to offload.

“Well, Michelle’s parents aren’t coming,” he huffed. “They’d watched Michelle do this to her old boyfriend,” he explained, rubbing the quite substantial shelf of belly fat under his sagging nipples. “So when the same thing started happening to me, they told her they wanted no part in it.”

“Bonus!” Ryan joked, trying to remain upbeat. “My marriage certainly would have gone a lot smoother without the in-laws.”

Jack nodded, seeming to be somewhat in agreement. “Michelle’s not too cut up about it,” he whispered. “Then, well, you remember my dad. He still goes out running three times a week. So he’s not been all that in favour of Michelle and her wholesome home cooking..”

“You can’t live your life for your parents,” Ryan jumped in. It was a lesson he had learned somewhat bitterly when his own church-goin parents had taken Lucy’s side in the divorce. It made him think back to how much they had pushed him to get married in the first place, and he began to resent them, quite justifiably in his opinion.

“I know, I know…” Jack nodded. “And I wouldn’t change a thing. She’s it for me, y’know?”

Ryan raised his beer and they drank to that sentiment.

“What about you?” Jack asked next. “Is there someone new you’ve been holding back from me?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, not at all,” he stated. “Well… I mean…” he hesitated for a moment. “No. No one.”

But Jack’s interest had already been piqued. “Oh, come on. You can’t give me that and then say nothing!” he teased.

Ryan sighed, realising that he had dug himself into a bit of a hole. “It’s nothing,” he huffed at his own stupidity. “It’s just, one of the guys I live with has a bit of a crush on me.”

“Your first chubby chaser!” Jack laughed wickedly.

“Well…” Ryan conceded. “It looks that way, yes. His ex-boyfriend told me off for strutting around the place in just my underwear. He said I had a pot-belly and told me his boyfriend thinks of me as a hot daddy bear!”

Jack chuckled again. “Well, he’s not wrong. You do have quite the pot-belly!”

“Isn’t it a bit weird though?” Ryan asked his friend.

“Being referred to as a daddy bear when you’re only twenty nine?” Jack asked, simultaneously nodding in agreement. “But once you put on a bit of extra meat, that’s just the way people see you. It’s much more arousing to lean into it, rather than try to fight it.”

“Lean into it?” Ryan asked. “That’s your best advice?”

“Just enjoy the attention,” Jack smirked. “So what if he’s a twenty-four year old gay guy? You don’t have to be into someone to appreciate their admiration,” he nodded knowingly. “Trust me on this one. You’ll come to see that I’m right.”

With the divorce at last over with and all lawyers paid off, Ryan began to feel the financial strain starting to ease. Lucy hadn’t been quite as successful in getting all that she wanted from him. The worst case scenario was, thankfully, avoided. A few more months of living with the boys and Ryan would soon have saved enough money to rent his own place instead. With the ties that bound him to his ex-wife now finally disappearing, Ryan began to remember why he had fought so long for this freedom.

“I’ll have the Monster Meat bucket,” he declared, walking into a fast food place and not feeling guilty about the cost for the first time in months. He sucked in the smell of all the greasy goodness and knew that this was a freedom he would never again take for granted. Now he could gorge on as much as he desired and never have to explain himself to anyone. He could literally get as fat as he wanted now he was divorced and single, with no one to please but himself.

As he settled down into a seat, Ryan felt the bliss of devoting all his attention just to his epic meal for a full 20 minutes. It was all the stress relief he had ever needed. No one in here was particularly slim and it seemed, in those moments, that he had taken himself out of a world that so frustrated him, and into one that he felt comfortable in. Sure, he could probably join a gym and drop this weight in a relatively short amount of time. He could train his body hard and attract some beautiful girl to make his ex jealous. But Ryan knew that he had moved beyond that now. He didn’t care what his ex thought of him, or anyone else for that matter.

Or was Ryan just kidding himself? Was this really a moment of clarity? Or would he soon go crawling back to a diet plan the second things started getting rough? He was desperate to believe that wouldn’t be the case, but no one could ever be totally certain when it came to the future. It was only the present he could master. And so, armed with that knowledge, he went back to the counter, even though he felt almost too stuffed to even think about food.

“I’ll have the triple burger, please,” he stated, adding another milkshake to go with it. “He felt his hardess start to tingle, like the old days when he used to do this. Back then, he’d assumed it to be some twisted excitement about pissing Lucy off. Now he realised that this was so much more. This was about taking himself to somewhere he had never allowed himself to imagine going..

“Is this for you?” Ash asked, handing Ryan two boxes of pizza. “The delivery guy was coming up the stairs as I got home.”

“About time!” Ryan sighed, taking the boxes from him and settling back into the chair in front of the sofa. Two pizzas were a necessity for the Friday night baseball game and he was already four beers down. It would have been a perfect night but for the sticky humidity that had loomed over the city for the last few days; making him strip to his boxers as soon as he got home. “Do you follow baseball?” he asked Ash politely, nodding to the couch to see if he wanted to join him; knowing that, with Paul gone for the weekend, Ash would be on his own otherwise.

“No. Watching sports is not really my thing,” Ash replied unenthusiastically, despite continuing to linger around.

“Do you mind getting me another beer then?” Ryan asked,deciding to put the guy to work if he was so free to just stand about like this.

Ash hopped to his task with remarkable speed. “Here you go,” he smiled delightedly, heading straight over and handing it over to him, not seeming to realise that he was blcoking part of the TV screen. “I’ve got some chips and dip if you want some?” he asked next.

“Sure,” Ryan nodded, hoping that the guy would at least sit down then and stop getting in the way.

Once again, Ash went to his task, presenting the chips and dip much better than Ryan ever would have. He placed them on the coffee table and then finally sat himself down on the couch.

“You not having any?” Ryan asked five minutes later, noticing that it was only him actually eating.

“No, thanks,” Ash simply replied, pretending to be interested in the game. “They’re for you. Do you want another beer?”

Ryan felt the remaining liquid in his beer can and nodded, surprised by how diligently he was being looked after. Even when he asked Ash to fetch him the ice cream from the freezer later on, he was surprised that the young guy hopped to it, bouncing off the couch with an enthusiasm he had never seen before.

At the end of the game, Ryan took himself to the bathroom to relieve himself after the seven cans of beer he had ended up consuming. He looked in the mirror and marveled at the reflection he saw within it. Bloated and stuffed, Ryan had never seen his stomach looking so round and tight. Although he had upgraded his underwear a little while back, already these were looking worn and stretched, pulling the waistband down so that a good couple of inches of butt crack were on show. His muscular chest had started to build up with fleshiness in recent weeks and he placed his hand there to feel just how soft it was starting to get under his arms. He pulled the scales out with his foot and wondered just how much he weighed in this overfed state. He stepped on, waiting for the numbers to settle: 256lbs; the biggest number he had ever seen by quite some margin. It was, quite frankly, the cause of an almost instantaneous erection.

“I was wondering, if you’re still hungry, I could make you some pancakes?” Ash asked next as Ryan finally made it out of the bathroom. “I’ve got all the ingredients in.”

Ryan sat himself back down with a grunt and rubbed the shelf of his tight stomach, surprised that Ash was still hanging about the living area. Couldn’t he see how full Ryan was? Was he completely obvious to the heavy breathing and occasional grunt when he had to move, even slightly. He knew that the guy had a little crush, but what on earth was he possibly getting out of all this?

“Go on,” Ash pressed, actually trying to persuade him now. “Just a couple of them; nothing too big.”

Ryan looked up at the guy, already making his way to the kitchen and just waiting for that final nod of approval from him. Out of little more than curiosity, he agreed; watching with interest as he spied Ash settling to his task. Was he really using that much oil to fry the batter mix up? Was he actually rubbing butter into them? Did he really need to pour on that much syrup?

Despite tasting amazing, Ryan knew that every mouthful he was taking was completely and utterly packed full of calories and fat. As if desperate for his approval, Ash had watched him consume every bite of them. A sweat had begun to pour off Ryan’s forehead, but he wasn’t entirely sure that this one was caused by the humidity. “I am absolutely stuffed!” Ryan declared, grunting and rubbing the stretched out ball of stomach fat. “I haven’t eaten this much in ages,” he chuckled. “Not since I was trying to piss off my ex-wife after she told me she liked me being skinny.” “You were putting on weight on purpose?” Ash asked, quite startled by the comment.

“I was going for it, like you wouldn’t believe!” Ryan nodded. “Unless you’ve been through it, it’s hard to comprehend how petty you can be towards the end of a bad marriage,” he grinned, suddenly noticing that his hands were all over his own rounded stomach. “I was even taking this special calorie supplement shake you can buy, just to speed things up,” he laughed, thinking back.

“Oh!” Ash exclaimed knowledgeably, suddenly naming the exact brand .

They both went quiet. What a strange piece of trivia for Ash to just know, thought Ryan. The guy seemed to sense that too, suddenly looking a little sheepish.

“Do you still take them?” Ash asked next, trying to look a little less interested than his excitable voice made him sound.

“I don’t need to,” Ryan grinned, tapping his fully grown pot belly. I just weighed myself twenty minutes ago. I’ve put on another 40lbs since I moved in here. It seems that I just can’t stop these days!” He yawned, standing up and stretching. “Anyway, buddy. I need to head to sleep,” he declared, seizing upon the fact that his erection from the overeating had at last subsided.

“Do you think there is a way to tell if someone is like your Michelle?” Ryan asked the next time he caught up with Jack at the very hastily organised stag party.

“How do you mean?” Jack asked, only a little worse for wear as he and Ryan gradually fell to the back of the crowd of friends taking them to the next bar.

“You know… Someone who is into the idea of helping someone else gain weight,” Ryan explained, trying to keep his voice fairly low.

Jack chuckled. “Oh, trust me, you’ll spot them!” he nodded. They’re not exactly subtle. “They’ll find ways to ensure you’re eating and they’ll probably want to watch too. If they’re anything like Michelle, they’ll probably try to keep your activity levels low and complement you at the weirdest times; like when you’re bloated from overeating.”

Ryan nodded, taking it all in and finding a striking resemblences to Ash’s more recent behaviours. “Anything else?” he asked.

Jack considered for a moment. “The compliments,” he added next. “They’re totally bizarre. If they’re praising you for overeating, that’s a pretty sure sign. But sometimes they may try to convince you that you look better, or more masculine, or whatever it is they think you want to hear. When the reality is, you just look fat.”

Again, Ryan nodded, keen to match Jack’s thoughts to his own observations of Ash. “You see, I think I might have…”

“Come on!” shouted their drunk friends up ahead. “The night is still young. Stop waddling behind and get your big butts up here!”

Jack and Ryan smirked at each other. Despite Jack’s rather considerable extra weight, Ryan had been lumbered in exactly the same category. The pair of them were, for better or worse, the fat guys on this trip.

“You’re back!” Ash smiled late the next day as an exhausted Ryan made it home. “Did you have a nice time? Are you hungry? I could make you something to eat?”

Ryan looked again at the time. “You’re still up!” he asked with surprise, knowing that Ash always had an early class on Monday mornings.

“Well, I wanted to check that you got home okay,”Ash replied, heading to the kitchen and renewing his offer to make something for his roommate.

Smirking at the fact that he was being fussed over and mothered by a good-looking twenty-four year old, Ryan had been disappointed that he hadn’t had more alone time to discuss this situation he was in, with his buddy, Jack. “Okay,” he nodded, deciding to just let Ash do his thing. “Sure, that would be nice.” He headed for a shower, returning to find an enormous, steaming hot lasagne, glistening with grease and cheese, sitting there on a plate, ready to be eaten. “Did you make this from scratch?” he asked Ash.

Ash nodded. “I remembered you saying that lasagne used to be your favourite dish growing up. I’ve never made it before, but I made a whole bunch of them and portioned them up in the refrigerator for when you get hungry.

Ryan smiled at the effort Ash had clearly gone to for him; a whole new level of care and attention. He opened his mouth to try some and nodded in approval. The lasagne really was delicious, although it was more than obvious just how much oil, cream and several different types of cheeses had gone into it to make it really quite extremely high in calories. If all the beer and fast food hadn’t ensured his pants would be tighter tomorrow, this little calorie bomb sure would.

“How was the weekend, anyway?” Ash asked, sticking around for the show and watching Ryan devour every bite.

“Pretty good,” Ryan nodded. “I had a couple of jibes from some of my old school friends about my weight. But we all turn thirty this year, so the dad-bod is definitely where most of them are at now anyway. I’m just the one who has already graduated from that stage,” he winked at Ash, tapping his gut.

“What did they say?” Ash asked with surprising interest, placing a cushion over his crotch.

“Oh, you know,” Ryan went on, deciding to play up to whatever kinky fantasies he thought his roomate may be having. “Just pointing stuff out to me: telling me how tight my clothes are, how slow I was when we were walking to different places and calling me out on how much I was eating when we went for food.”

“They’re probably just jealous,” Ash shot back straight away.

Ryan smirked. There was no way any of the guys were in the least bit jealous of his sprouting pot belly, making him all but invisible to the many hot girls they bumped into that weekend. This was clearly just another one of those bizarre compliments that Jack had told him to look out for. “Yeah, you’re right,” he lied to Ash, rubbing his bloating gut as he chugged down a few of the sodas Ash had supplied with his late night meal. “I’m sure they are jealous, deep down.”

Stepping on the scale was not something that Ryan did all that often. He could feel his stomach’s rounded shape starting to swell even larger, and he knew, from the fit of his underwear and pants, that his thighs and butt were also bearing the brunt of all that he was consuming each day. Still, as he stepped up, early one Sunday morning, after a particularly gluttonous take-out weekend of having the apartment to himself, Ryan’s eyes widened in shock: 278lbs! “Fuck!” he blasted in shock, before laughing to himself at how fast the latest few pounds had slipped on. He really weighed that much? He didn’t feel that heavy! He strolled over to the mirror inspecting his shape. Sure, his gut was pretty well developed by now and all the extra eating had sure softened his chest up rather a lot. He spun, noting that his butt’s width was quite considerable now, with back fat bulding at his sides and folding under his shoulder blades. Yet, he still didn’t feel like he should weigh 278lbs! Somehow, he had always imagined a guy that size being much bigger than this. What Ryan actually felt as he saw himself there, was very small still; acting as a licence for him to continue to indulge.

Jack’s wedding was fast approaching as the weeks rolled by. After being fitted for their suits, Ryan and Jack headed out for something to eat.

“That tailor seemed pretty pissed off that we left it this late to get ourselves measured for the wedding outfits,” Ryan noted as they sat down and grabbed the menus. “I guess we’ll have to cross our fingers that they can get those pants in for you in time.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jack shrugged. “I put on weight every week, so there would have been no point in going any earlier. I would just have outgrown them. “I’m almost 350lbs these days.”

Ryan nodded. Jack did indeed look impressively large, yet he was only 60lbs or so bigger than he was. And Ryan still felt tiny in comparison. “I know what you mean,” Ryan agreed. “I split some pants the other day. I’d only bought them four weeks before.”

“It’s weird, isnt it. When you’re gaining weight, you’re so tuned into how your body feels and looks. Yet, at the same time, you’re completely oblivious to it as well; how tight your clothes are getting, or how large you seem to other people.”

Ryan nodded enthusiastically. He felt so glad that Jack noticed this as well, sparking a lively conversation between the pair.

“You’ll be getting your own place soon, I take it?” Jack asked. “The two students you're sharing with must be graduating soon?”

“A couple of months,” Ryan nodded, suddenly realising that he had been a little lazy in his hunt for a new apartment.

“That’ll be nice!” Jack smiled. “Your own space at last!”

“Well, it’s not too bad as it is,” Ryan explained. “Paul is never there at weekends. And now he’s got himself a girlfriend, he’s not there much in the week either.”

“And what about the other one? The one you used to fight with loads?”

“Yeah, he’s there a lot, but… we don’t argue so much these days,” he admitted; suddenly feeling the desire to say so much more about kinky little Ash.

“Before I foget,” Jack jumped in. “Michelle wants to know who you’re bringing as your ‘plus one’ to the wedding next week.

“I’ve got a ‘plus one’?” Ryan asked, genuinely surprised.

“Dude!” Jack grumbled. “Seriously?”

“I’ll find someone,” Ryan replied hastily, seeing how stressed Jack was getting.

“What about that girl you were hinting at when we briefly chatted during my stag party?” Jack asked, clearly keen to get a name locked in.

Ryan thought for a moment. Had Jack assumed he had some potential hot chubby chaser girl on the go? He pondered the idea, realising, quite suddenly, that he didn’t really need one. In the most unexpected way, everything that he had yearned for in life had already arrived. “Hey, Jack,” he asked thoughtfully. “How did you know that Michelle was the one for you?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Jack shot back with a sly grin.

“Besides that,” Ryan insisted. “How did you know that you guys were meant to be together?”

Jack sighed. “I guess…” he began softly, “...it was the way she made me feel: so loved and cared for; admired and adored. I’ve never felt that from anyone before.” He seemed moved, just by talking about her. “Plus she dominated me and forced me to pack on over 150lbs of pure fat; which is one of the kinkiest fucking things I could ever have imagined!” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Ryan laughed and nodded. He made a crack about how much fatter Jack might be after he got home from his honeymoon, but, really, his mind was elsewhere; with someone else entirely.

Ryan arrived home to see a large crate of beers resting on the kitchen counter tied up with a ginormous red bow. He laughed, seeing that it was his favourite brand and noticing that a large tray of assorted doughnuts lay beside it.

“Do you like your present?” Ash asked, coming out of his bedroom with a huge smile on his face.

“You bought these for me?” Ryan asked, feeling his mouth watering at the sight of the doughnuts, even after how much he had eaten with Jack that afternoon.

As if psychically linked, Ash began unpackaging the doughnuts for him, leaving them open for him to stuff one into his mouth. “They’re to say thank you. I just had my novel manuscript accepted for publishing.”

Ryan nearly spat out his doughnut. “You’ve been writing a novel?” he blasted in shock. “Since when?”

“Since you kept reminding me that I need to do something with my life; back when you first moved in.”

“I was being an asshole,” Ryan confessed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel…”

“You gave me the kick up the ass that I needed,” Ash threw back with a smile. “You always told me how clever I was and that I could do anything.”

“You’re an amazing person,” Ryan marvelled. “In fact, you’re the best person I’ve ever met in my life!” For weeks now, he had worried that his behavious around Ash, indulging his little feeder tendencies in subtle ways, had only brought the guy to fetishize him. Their relationship was merely one of a simple exchange: Ryan would enjoy being overfed and catered for by his roommate, and Ash would get to enjoy the subtle art of ensuring a guy that he found attractive, continued to pile on a few pounds. Now, however, every sense felt strangetly heightened in this moment of celebration. He couldn’t believe that Ash had been secretly writing away for months when Ryan had assumed the guy to be inside his bedroom, playing games. Just how blind had he been this entire time?

Ryan took a step forward and Ash did not retreat. He grabbed the much smaller guy’s shoulders and held them firmly. Again, Ash did not stop him. Then, seeing the inviting, warm look on Ash’s face, Ryan took the biggest risk of his life, going in for a kiss and desperately hoping that Ash’s lips would move to meet his.

Unbelievably, Ash was kissing him back, moaning gently, as if luxuriating in something he had never wanted more in his life. The kiss became intense, very quickly. With his shirt lifted off him, Ryan felt the handsome guy’s hands rubbing all over his stomach. Before he knew it, Ryan was being guided into the living space, his sweatpants ripped down and then his body pushed with surprisingly kinky force, back into his usual chair in front of the TV.

Ryan looked up at Ash with startled arousal. The guy seemed so naturally suited to taking charge. He would have known that this was Ryan’s first gay experience and he led the way with ease, erasing any opportunity for awkward fumblings to slip in. He cracked open one of the chilled beers and fetched the tray of doughnuts from the kitchen counter. Then, when he was sure that Ryan was settled, he plunged his whole mouth down onto the fat guy’s crotch.

Ryan’s whole body twitched.This wasn’t a blow job, he thought to himself, feeling the intense stimulation straight away. He found himself moaning, even when he was trying not to. Was this intense pleasure what it was supposed to have been like all along? Lucy had never made much of an effort with anything in the bedroom, but Ash’s mouth was doing things to him that Ryan could never have dreamed of. He supped on his beer and ate a doughnut, feeling Ash’s hands rubbing the spherical shape of his stomach, clearly getting off on making this moment all about him.

Barely two doughnuts in and Ryan felt his body lurching as it wanted to climax. Ash worked his pace even more, feeling the throbbing in his mouth. Then, when the moment came, he pushed his mouth even deeper, sending Ryan’s hardness all the way down his throat. The pleasure; the orgasm; that intensity. It was unlike anything Ryan had ever experienced in his life.

There was no going back.

Over the following week, Ryan discovered that Ash had a whole arsenal of tactics to please him. Not only did the guy continue to fuss over him with his cooking and snack deliveries, but his tight, energetic little butt seemed determined to outdo every single previous sexual experience that Ryan had ever had. They spoke at length about their attraction to each other and how smitten they both had become. Ryan had no hesitation in inviting Ash to be his date for Jack’s wedding. And, in fact, spending so much time with a now professional writer, really helped Ryan to produce the best speech he could have wished for. Rather than feeling sick with nerves as the big day arrived, he felt excited and pumped, heartily stuffing himself on the big breakfast Ash had so lovingly prepared for him.

“Your friends really aren’t keen on Michelle, are they?” Ash commented later that evening, as the pair of them were reunited after Ryan’s time sitting at the top table and the endless photographs that needed taking.

“Um, no,” Ryan nodded. “Not so much.”

“I had no idea that your friend, Jack, used to be so slim before he met her,” he whispered, fearing that one of their families might overhear. “Your buddies seem to think she’s the devil incarnate!”

Ryan chuckled. He’d heard it all before. “She’s lovely really,” he tried, looking over at the pair of them as Michelle spoonfed her 350lb husband a large piece of their wedding cake. “She just… knows what she wants.”

“I think everyone here can see exactly what it is she wants,” Ash joked back as Jack’s full, swollen belly was patted with approval by his new wife. “It makes me wonder what your friends are going to say about me eventually.”

Ryan pulled Ash into him by holding his slim hips in his chubby hands. They had decided that it was best to go easy on the public displays of affection, considering that this was their first time out together as a couple. However, Ryan simply could not help himself. “Oh, yes?” he asked keenly.

“I certainly don’t have any plans to put you on a diet,” Ash grinned, fingering the skin between the stretched buttons of Ryan’s beer swollen gut.

Ryan growled in lustful approval. His hands slipped onto Ash’stight, toned butt and pulled the guy in even closer.

“In fact, how come you’re not eating a big slice of wedding cake for me right now?” Ash teased.

Ryan moaned lightly. This was exactly what he wanted. He knew how much scrutiny he was under today. He could feel the judgemental eyes upon him, for his shocking weight gain, the fit of his tight shirt, and the fact that he was dating someone none of them had ever expected. He should have been nervous or self conscious. However, with Ash in his arms, Ryan had never felt more free to be himself. “But won’t that make me even fatter?” he teased back.

Ash smiled. “Oh… I hadn’t thought of that,” he joked, accepting the kiss that Ryan soon bestowed upon him.

Ryan felt Ash’s hands feeling his big, broad butt as they kissed; the pants he had been measured for only a week ago, starting to feel rather uncomfortable after only a week of dating the handsome twenty-four year old. The kiss ended and both of them laughed, realising how ridiculously long it had taken to get to this point.

“Is this along the lines of what you had in mind for me?” Ryan asked moments later, pushing out his stomach as far as it would go and stretching those buttons even more.

Ash seemed thrilled, looking around the room in surprise that Ryan was making himself look so large in front of everyone that he knew at the wedding. He smiled, rubbing the underside of Ryan’s ball-like gut and then leaned in to whisper. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he teased.

Ryan growled in lustful appreciation, then took his boyfriend’s hand and led the way to the wedding cake.

Exactly one year to the day, Ryan and Ash were sitting in that same room, together with Jack and Michelle, celebrating a year since the wedding. They reminisced fondly, thinking about the perfect day it had been and laughing about how shocked everyone had been after Jack came back 30lbs heavier from his two week honeymoon.

“You can’t be far off the weight I was this time last year,” Jack noted, surveying his buddy’s hefty appearance.

“Possibly,” Ryan nodded, rubbing his large stomach. “I still don’t feel big yet though,” he replied, as if he was oblivious to the enormous ball-shaped gut and the groaning of the chair, supporting his wide butt and mostrous 347lb body.

“Unless I ask him to do something,” Ash jumped in comically. “Then he always says he’s too fat to do anything!” he joked, making everyone chuckle.

“I’m actually going to be pushing Jack to five hundred pounds this year,” Michelle explained, taking her morbidly obese husband’s hand as if this was an announcement that thay had been planning for some time.

Ryan noticed Jack staring at his face for a reaction; perhaps some surprise that his old school buddy was so ensnared by his beautiful wife that he was willing to take his weight gain to such extremes for her.

“He’s going to be a lot of work for you at that size!” Ash grinned conspiratorily at Michelle. “I hope you’re ready for that?” he laughed.

“Oh, I’m counting on it!” Michelle smirked, rubbing the 430lb man’s knee under the table.

“You’re a very lucky guy,” Ryan nodded at his friend in approval.

“There you go, Ash,” Michelle smirked. “It sounds like we may have another willing volunteer to join the five hundred pound club,” she nodded towards a jealous looking Ryan.

“You’re joking aren’t you?” Ryan laughed. “Ash is heading off on his second book tour in March. “I won’t be gaining anything for almost two months whilst he’s gone. I’ll probably just wate away!”

“You liar!” Ash teased him back. “Last time I was away, you pretty much lived on takeout and put on almost twenty pounds in a month,” he chuckled.

“I don’t remember you complaining,” Ryan smiled back; his voice dripping with affection and lust.

Michelle looked at them both, clearly wanting to cut through their mushy meanderings. “So, five hundred pounds?” she asked again, trying to circle the conversation back. “I’m getting the impression that you boys are kinky enough to enjoy seeing that on Ryan,” she pressed; ever the bad influence.

Ryan and Ash looked at each other with a wicked excitement in their eyes.

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Ash stated diplomatically. Unlike Michelle, he liked to be a little more discreet about his kinks and fantasies when it came to enjoying Ryan’s large body.

Ryan smirked and winked at his old buddy Jack. He knew exactly how to read between the lines of whatever Ash said. There was no way he was going to pass up the opportunity to get Ryan to that size. And so, just like his high school best pal, Ryan was as good as setting sail for five hundred pounds. How insanely arousing was that?

“Eat up, my friend,” Ryan smiled competitively at Jack. “I’m coming for you, Fat Boy!”

#gainer fiction #gainer stories #gay feedee #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gayfeedee #gainerfic #gainer story #gainerstories #gainer fic

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spiderwcd · 4 months

Text

Stalked | s.g.

pairing: Sam Golbach x influencer ! f ! reader

summary: They knew something was off, but they never imagined it to be this bad.

Warning(s): angst! stalkers, breaking in, fear, profanity, mentions of a weapon

A/N: honestly first time writing angst, so forgive me if it's really bad, ALSO, please read the last note, I need your guys opinion on something.

images from pinterest !

Sam loved y/n, so much so that Sam let her finally move in. Well rather, they made it official. She had practically lived with Sam for a year now, always sleeping over and leaving all her things around his house.

It was great, she loved waking up to Sam every morning and making him breakfast. She adored how he'd show up for some of her streams and talk to her fans. Sam was the love of her life, there's no doubt behind that.

But recently something was off.

It started off with a few overly creepy dm's, saying perverted things to her. She would block them but they seemed to never go away, assuming as they made multiple accounts to send the horrid messages.

But then she felt like she was being watched, going out in public became sketchy for her. She noticed a hooded man in the coffee shop she frequented or around the corner in the supermarket.

Then, it was getting really out of hand. She would receive random packages from fans all the time, opening them on her live stream and laughing at gag gifts. But it was odd to receive gifts on her front porch, when she regularly received gifts via a P.O. Box. She had opened one, regretting it to this day.

In the box were various pictures of her around town, heart shapes surrounding her face. On top was a letter, long story short, she realized it was a stalker.

Sam and y/n tried to figure out a way to put a restraining order, but couldn't due to the fact that they didn't know this said man's identity.

Unfortunately, enough was enough. All she could do was go on another live stream tonight, explaining reasons why she wouldn't be streaming anymore. She propped up the camera, Sam in the back for moral support.

"Are you ready?" She weakly smiled.

Sam nodded, reaching for her hand as she sat back down as many fans joined in.

She tried to put on her bubbly personality, attempting to welcome many of the fans.

"Hey guys," she waved to the camera. "How are you guys?" She asked, placing her other hand on her chin as she looked at the various comments.

Her fans knew her all too well, quickly recognizing that something was wrong.

'oh no, y/n you okay? you look sad :('

'woah, mom and dad look so serious!? Are we in trouble?!'

Y/n smiled at the concern, "yeah, guys you have all been bad," she sternly pointed to the camera. "Right sam? We gotta take away their Xboxes." She turned over to Sam, causing him to chuckle.

"Yeah guys, who shit in the kitty litter? The cat's shit is not that big!" He joked trying to lighten up the mood.

Y/n smiled, squeezing Sam's hand a little stronger as she looked back at the camera.

"Alright guys, Imma wait a little longer for more people to get in just so they don't miss anything." She announced, continuing to read the comments.

'mother is mothering'

'y/n, ask sam when the next video is coming out?!'

'y/n is so pretty guys :)'

She turned to Sam, "they're asking about your next video, babe." She pointed out. "I don't know, I've been put under a contract not to discuss any future videos guys." She put her hands up in defeat.

Sam grinned at her before looking up at the camera, "Well, Colby will kill me for saying anything, but we're working on something to record tomorrow actually." He raised his brows, pursing his lips a bit.

"You heard it here folks, Sam is not retiring." She joked.

As they were goofing off and joking around, the viewer count went up to nearly 50k. She was impressed by the amount, amazed by her followers.

"Wow guys, there's 50 thousand of you here!" She cheered, raising her hands up into the air. "So now that we have a lot of your attention, don't get too distracted by this beautiful face." She pointed towards Sam.

Sam dramatically covered his face, pretending to be flustered. "Oh, stop it guys!" He responded with a high pitched voice.

Y/n playfully smacked his thigh as she giggled, "Well, so this is sorta sad news guys," she began, trying not to look at the comments. "But this will be my last stream for a little bit, just there's been stuff that came up and it's no longer safe for me to stream. I would go more in depth but again, for our safety I can't really say why."

She held back tears as she glanced over to her comments, fans practically panicking.

'what?! noooo :('

'omg what happened?!'

'nauuur! I look forward to your streams :,('

Y/n gulped, holding back tears as she read the comments. "Yeah guys, it's only temporary," she sighed, Sam holding her hand as he laced his fingers with hers. "But it's just to ensure safety for me and my loved ones, it's only until this problem goes away guys. I just gotta say, I love you guys, you guys give me purpose and I'm so thankful for that, so I hope you guys understand."

She weakly smiled, reading the many comments of support and touched by their kindness.

"Well with that guys, I'm just gonna end it here," she sighed, leaning towards her computer. "See you guys, hopefully soon." She blew a kiss into the camera before cutting the stream off.

She let out a sigh as she sat back down in her chair, a creak emitting from it. Y/n looked over to Sam, who offered her a smile as he rubbed his free hand on top of hers.

"You okay?" he asked her, furrowing his brows as worry coated his voice.

She nodded weakly, "I will be," she replied. "I just hate to stop streaming, I really want this stupid stalker to like chill the fuck out." She groaned as she rubbed her face.

"I'm sure it won't be long," Sam tried to comfort her. "I mean he hasn't been around for a while." Sam shrugged.

Y/n couldn't help but stare off into the ceiling, taking Sam's words sink in, "That's true," she mumbled. "I've had stalkers before, but they were never this bad." She emphasized.

Sam understood her frustration, he knew streaming was everything to her. She worked hard to please her fans, streaming every other night practically. He loved that about her, how caring she was and worked for her fans even when days weren't as good to her.

"Well let's get some sleep, okay?" Sam patted her thigh, standing up from his seat.

Y/n groaned, throwing her head back, "This feels so weird," She grumbled, mimicking Sam's movements and walking towards their bedroom. "Are you still going to that haunted hospital or whatever?" She asked him, removing her sweatpants and sweatshirt.

"Yeah, but I can always stay here with you if you want," Sam answered, watching her movements. "I can always reschedule it." He offered.

Y/n threw on one of Sam's t-shirts, jumping into bed next to him, "No, no, I'll be okay," She declined, stabilizing her head onto her hand. "I don't want you to disappoint your fans, plus the cameras you installed really give me a lot more comfort." She smiled, her heart warmed by his gesture.

"Are you sure? I-I just don't know how I feel about leaving you here all alone." Sam sighed, pulling her close to his chest.

"Yes, I'm sure sam." She laughed a bit, laying her head onto his chest. She listened to his heart beat against her ear, she breathed in deeply before looking up at sam. "I love you, you know that?" She whispered to him.

Sam smiled down at her, placing his finger under her chin as he pulled her into a kiss. "I love you more." He whispered back, pecking her on her forehead.

The next day, she watched as Sam packed various equipment into his bags. But he wouldn't stop pestering her about his offer, her refusing it every time.

"Okay, baby I will call you when I land, i'll check the cameras often, oh, and update me every like hour," Sam commanded, his suitcase in hand as his backpack strapped to his back. "I don't care if you think it's annoying, I just need to make sure you're okay."

Y/n laughed at his demands, kissing him on the cheek, "I promise, but youre gonna have to worry about Colby in about two seconds cause it looks like he's gonna drag you away." She joked, pointing at Colby in the car.

Sam sighed, "He’ll be fine," He rolled his eyes playfully. "Okay, I love you like a million, please be careful, okay? Lock all the doors and keep the windows locked, I'll call Celina or someone to come and keep you company." He suggested, landing a quick peck on her lips.

"Alright, love you too," She chuckled, embracing him into a long hug. "Okay, okay, now you have a safe trip okay? And make sure Colby brings you back in one piece." She joked.

She watched as Sam ran towards the car, looking back every few steps as he blew her kisses. She noticed Colby rolling his eyes, impatient as is.

Y/n sighed as she locked the door, making her way to the living room. She dropped down onto the couch as she exhaled a breath. She looked down on her phone, deciding to check up on her socials.

She was surprised by the sheer amount of support she received, fans encouraging her. She smiled at the many comments, her smile soon fading away as she looked at the random drama article of hers.

Streamer Y/N L/N, goes on break cause of STALKER?!

She rolled her eyes, of course they're trying to profit on her vulnerability. She threw her phone down onto the pillows, standing up onto her feet as she made her way towards the kitchen. She figured she could distract herself and make something to eat. Usually when she was bored she would stream, but for obvious reasons she couldn't cure her boredom at that moment.

After she had made some dinner, she turned on one of her favorite shows. She decided a few episodes wouldn't hurt to catch up on, resting her head onto a few pillows as stared at the screen.

A season and a half in, she heard her phone ding. She picked it up, letting the phone turn on and the message displayed on her screen.

sam:

just landed! How are things over there?

Y/n started typing out her answer, trying not to make it sound depressing as it felt.

y/n:

great, i'm just watching some of my shows right now :)

It didn't take long for the phone to ding again, Sam's response delivered onto her phone screen yet again.

sam:

sounds good

Do you want some company? I could send Jake or even Celina over

y/n:

I think i'll be okay for now

I prolly will be up for a while anyway so i'll let you know

sam:

okay, be safe babe

I love you 300 million tons baby!!!

Y/n smiled at the text, seeming to miss her boyfriend even more now.

y/n:

well I love you 300.01 million tons!

She shut off her phone, tossing it back to where it last was. She blankly stared into the TV screen as she tried to focus on the show. Her eyes began to grow heavy, slowly beginning to grow more tired.

It didn't take long before she found herself sleeping on the couch, the random show adding as a background noise.

She awoke from her sleep, hearing her phone buzzing next to her. She fluttered her eyes, looking outside at the now dark night that had overtaken the evening sun as she slept.

She groaned as she picked up her phone, Sam's name displaying on her screen with his photo on it. She mentally cursed herself for falling asleep, forgetting to update Sam. Y/n slid the answer button, bringing the phone up to her ear.

"Hey, sorry I fell asl-." But before she could answer, Sam cut her off with panic in his voice.

"Babe, Babe?! Are you okay?" Sam frantically asked. "Where are you right now?" He added, panic rising in his voice.

Y/n furrowed her brows, confused on why he had begun panicking over not updating him on her whereabouts.

"I'm just home, in the living room right now." She sighed, rubbing her eyes out of her tired state.

"Okay, okay, please tell me you locked all the doors and windows," Sam sternly replied.

Y/n stood up, noticing the TV had still been blaring. "Yeah, I locked the front door when you left and the backdoor had been locked, what's going on sam, you're really freaking me out." She grumbled.

"Y/n, please listen to me very carefully," Sam began, shaking in his voice. She heard him talk to another person in the back, something about a ride to the airport. "Go to our bathroom, and lock the door, please baby." He panted, hearing a car door shut in the background as he began to run.

Y/n just was more confused, but complied with his instructions. She began walking towards their bedroom, but froze when she heard a sound from downstairs. The sound of glass shattering echoed from the home.

She sprinted towards the bedroom, locking the door and entering the bathroom connected to it. She swiftly locked the bathroom door, backing away as she tried to cover her heavy breathing.

She forgot she was on a call with Sam, faintly hearing his loud shouts for her. She brought the phone back to her ear, barely stabilized in her shaking hand.

"Y/n!? y/n!? What happened?! Y/n, please answer me!" Sam shouted, calling out for her. "Was that glass breaking?!" He called out.

"Y-Yeah, I just heard someone fucking break a window or something downstairs," Y/n whispered into the phone. "Sam, I-I'm scared." Her voice cracked as tears began to spill onto her cheeks.

Sam cursed a bit in the background, "Fuck, it’s gonna be okay baby, I promise." His voice shook, distressed as he felt hopeless in this situation. "Colby called the police so they should be over there any moment, just stay there and don't make a sound, okay?" He informed her.

Before y/n could respond, she heard faint heavy footsteps make their way up towards the stairs. It seemed as if he had stopped at the end of the staircase, in front of the living room.

"Sam, I-I think he's upstairs," Y/n sobbed softly. "I’m so fucking scared, Sam." She whimpered out.

Sam cursed yet again on the other side, clearly frustrated and worried. "It's gonna be okay, Colby's still on the line with the cops, they said 5 more minutes, okay? Just don't say anything, it's g-gonna be okay." She heard Sam's frustrated sniffs as his voice cracked.

Slowly, the footsteps became louder. They thudded with each step, slowly making their way towards the locked bedroom. Y/n felt hot tears stream down her hot cheeks, her heart pumping as if she ran a marathon.

But then the footsteps stopped at the door to the bedroom. She listened carefully, her ears perking up to every sound. 5 minutes will feel like eternity. She listened as the door handle started jiggling to their bedroom, with a frustrated man's voice as he kicked the door once, then twice and with a loud crack as it swung and hit the wall.

She let out a scared squeal, Sam still shouting for her on the other side. She didn't dare to move, still intently listening as the man rustled around the room, trying to find something or someone.

She could practically feel her heart beating out of her chest, feeling nothing but pure fear as the man began stepping closer to the bathroom door.

Y/n found it odd when the man knocked. She didn't answer, letting yet another tear slip out of her eye. But she found it even more odd that he slipped a piece of paper under the door, seemingly blank.

Y/n prayed that the police would arrive any moment, rescue her from this nightmare. But mostly wanting Sam to be there for her, to protect her.

She shut her eyes, bringing the phone to her ear again. Sam kept calling out for her, freaking out. "Sam, If something happens, I-I love y-you okay?" She sniffed softly as she whispered softly into the phone.

"Y/n, don't say that! You're gonna make it just a little long-" as Sam was about to finish his sentence, the door cracked just like the one in the bedroom.

She jumped, tears spilling as she let out a sob. Just as quickly as he opened the bedroom door, the door ricocheted against the wall. She felt herself shake like a leaf as her back pressed up against the bathtub, watching intently as everything moved very slowly.

The background noise of Sam's voice and everything else drowned as she heard her heart beating, eyes glued to the broken door. The man slowly stepped closer inside the bathroom, turning his head very menacingly.

The masked man creeped into the bathroom, the glimmer of a blade in his hand. She let out a sob as she turned her head away, shutting her eyes shut as she prayed it was a nightmare she woke awake from.

She could practically feel his breath on her face, now kneeling in front of her. His hand at first moved to her face, tracing his fingers on her wet skin but then moving his attention to the phone clutched in her hand. He scoffed as he snatched the phone out of her hand, bringing it to his ear.

"Y/n? Y/n?! answer me, please." Sam begged on the other line.

"She's unavailable at the moment." The man's deep voice rang out in the bathroom.

"Dont you dare fucking touch her," Sam spat through the phone, gripping onto his phone with anger. "I swear to God, I will fucking kill you." He growled.

The man chuckled a bit, amused by his threats, "Well, I don't see you anywhere." He laughed.

Before Sam could give an answer, the man hung up the phone and set it down onto the counter. He turned back ever so slowly to her, staring down at the floor to avoid eye contact with her stalker.

He kneeled back down, looking at her as she cried.

"You're much prettier than I expected," He laughed, running his finger on a strand of her hair. "Don't be scared, only brought this if your little boyfriend would get in the way." He smirked under his mask, tilting the knife.

As y/n froze up, tensing under his touch, she heard the loud sirens pulling closer to her house. The red and blue lights filling up the room, causing the man to jolt up and look at her one last time.

"This isn't over." He mumbled, running out of the bathroom.

With him gone, she let out a sob as it rang throughout her body. She covered her face, trying to calm down and reassure herself it was all over.

Y/n heard the shouts of a police officer, warning the man to get down. She heard frantic footsteps run down the hall, afraid it was the man again.

But instead it was a female officer, her gun drawn out and a flashlight shining onto y/n's face. She lowered her weapon, turning to her shoulder as she spoke through the walkie.

"Are you y/n?" She kneeled down to her level.

Y/n nodded, "Y-Yes." she let out.

The officer reached for her hand, helping her up. Y/n's legs shook as she stumbled forward slightly, apologizing as she straightened herself up.

"It's okay, you have no need to apologize." She reassured, beginning to walk her out of the bathroom.

"T-That paper, he slid it under the door when I was locked in h-here." She pointed with trembling hands.

The officer nodded, kneeling as she lifted the paper. Y/n couldn't help but peek at the paper, curiosity eating at her.

From what it looked like, it was a love note as he declared his love for her. The officer's face retorted into a one with disgust, hiding it quickly from y/n.

"This will be put into evidence, my other officer will take you down to question you," She informed y/n, letting one of the other officers grab her arm and lead her down the hall.

Y/n's eyes wandered to the broken bits of wood that was flown across the room, their bedroom in complete disarray. She noticed that the same knife he had carried was now lodged into the broken door that hung loosely on the hinges, on the door was a picture of her and sam. Sam's face was scribbled on, with a few profanities scratched around.

Y/n felt sick to her stomach, unable to hold back tears as she trembled down the hall. The street was filled with cop cars, neighbors coming out to investigate the commotion. She spaced out, deep into thought as the police officer's informed her about the break in.

Y/n simply nodded, still in shock. Then she noticed a figure run up to her, Sam. She felt tears spilling out again and a wave of relief washed over her as she watched him sprint towards her, hugging her as he panted and sobbed into her hair.

"Thank fucking god," Sam cried, rubbing her hair as she trembled in his arms. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault. I should've never left you alone." He cried, stroking her hair as he comforted her.

She peaked over his shoulder, the flashes of blue and red covered the streets. She watched as the officers handcuffed the now revealed man as his mask had been removed, pushing him into the back of the cop car. Y/n quickly looked away, determined not to be afraid of him any longer. As long as she had Sam, she was safe.

She didn't say anything, soaking his sweatshirt with her tears. He didn't let go of her, talking to the police as they interrogated him to find the story.

"Hey, can we do this another time?" Sam snapped, holding y/n as she rested her head onto his chest. "I would love to answer your questions, but she's been through a lot and I need her to rest." He sighed, stroking her hair softly.

The officer understood, handing him a card. They thanked them for their time, getting into the car as they sped away. Y/n sniffled, gripped onto Sam's arms tightly, as if he would leave again.

"You guys can stay at my place for the meantime," Colby offered. "I know your house is sort of a crime scene right now, and your doors are completely wrecked. I have the space." He added.

Sam nodded, thanking his best friend. Y/n hasn't said anything to Sam, still traumatized from her experience. She sat silent in the car, holding onto Sam's hand tightly as they drove. Sam couldn’t help but glance at her, guilt building up inside him.

When they had finally reached Colby's house, Sam followed y/n around. He was so afraid to leave her side again, y/n was comforted by his presence but she knew he had blamed himself for it.

Y/n laid on the bed, glancing at her phone as she looked at the many articles about her. She frowned at the media article, turning off her phone when she noticed Sam enter the room. Sam jumped into the bed, letting out a deep breath as he stared up for a moment.

"It's not your fault sam," Y/n began, causing Sam to avert his gaze to her. "If anything, I'm glad you weren't there, you didn't see what I saw." She added, looking over to him.

"Y/n-" Sam started, but was ultimately cut off by y/n.

"No Sam, don't blame yourself, I told you to go," her voice cracked, fighting back tears that threatened to spill. "He would've hurt you, o-or killed you." She let out a sob.

Sam didn't say anything, pulling her into his chest as she let out tears. He whispered to her that everything's gonna be okay, kissing her head as he petted her hair.

"T-There wasn't much you could do, Sam," She whispered, sniffing. "He came there to hurt you, you did the right thing to call the cops." She commented, looking up at her boyfriend.

Sam half smiled down at her, "I know, just I wish I was there to protect you, I'm sorry." He mumbled, sniffing back tears.

She smiled, placing her palm onto his face. "It's okay Sam, I'm okay," She reassured. "I have you around me to protect me now." She shushed softly.

Sam nodded, reaching for her hand off his face. "It's all over," He sighed. "That's all that matters, you're safe."

Sam wrapped his arms around her, her head pressed against his chest as she listened to his heart beat gently against her ear. It didn't take long for her to finally rest, his scent and gentle heartbeat to soothe her to sleep.

"I'm never leaving you ever again." Sam whispered to her, kissing her head.

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

hey guys, thanks for reading!

so now for my question, I want to know if you guys would like smut from me. I have a few works saved, but I'm so nervous that you guys wouldn't like it so please please PLEASE let me know if its something you'd like :)

thanks for your attention!

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #sam and colby #sam golbach #xplr #sam golbach x reader #sam goldbach #xplr club #xplr merch #colby

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keerysfreckles · 4 months

Note

idk if you write angst of stuff but if possible could you write a angst -> fluff fic with Luke castellan where they get into a huge argument right before a quest, on the quest someone gets super injured and then it’s just a bunch of fluff and apologies as the other one tries to help the one who’s injured

not strong enough — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, blood and injuries mentioned, angst, rushed ending but shhhh

a/n: once again.. luke castellan brainrot.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n was confused. she wasn't sure why luke asked her to go on this stupid quest with him. less than thirty-four minutes ago the pair got into a ridiculous argument about luke being too overprotective of y/n.

why she agreed to even go with him? well, y/n didn't know how to answer that.

so here she was, not even five minutes away from camp half-blood, already regretting her decision.

"did chiron even tell you why we're going on this quest?" y/n asked luke. he was in front of her in the path, and she wasn't looking at him as she kept her focus on the bumpy dirt road beneath her feet.

"cool, don't answer me," she responds to herself, sarcasm very heavy in her words.

less than a minute passes before y/n speaks up again. "i don't even know why you're so angry."

luke stops and turns to face the girl, "all i want to do is protect you!"

"and i don't need protecting!" y/n yells the same way he does, only resulting in a grumble from luke, as the two continue down the path in the forest.

luke stops again, causing y/n to bump into his back from her being too busy looking where she was stepping.

"okay silent treatment and being stubborn? luke really you-"

luke turned slightly and quickly placed his hand over y/n's mouth. her eyebrows furrowed for a moment before her eyes traveled to the reason luke stopped walking.

less then twenty feet away from the duo was a sleeping minotaur. y/n looked to luke in concern, not knowing how to get around it.

they weren't truly surprised a minotaur was there, considering they were out of range from the camp, it could be possible that a hundred different creatures were out in the woods.

"i think he's in a deep enough sleep," luke whispered, "if we're quiet enough we can go around him."

the two commence with luke's plan. it went smoothly. too smoothly.

luke led the way, y/n almost copied his every step in order for the minotaur to not hear them. just as they were about to get around the giant animal, y/n's foot slipped and cracked a branch.

"shit," luke cursed. the two teens turned to see the minotaur rising. "run!" luke yelled, before grabbing y/n's hand to make sure she was still behind him.

moments pass and the minotaur is still chasing after the two.

"luke!" y/n catches his attention while they were still running south, "we can't outrun him! he's a freaking bull!"

luke would hate to admit it, but he knew the girl was right. the bull behind them was plowing down tree after tree, trying his best to get the two campers for his late lunch.

y/n stopped running, and drew her knife from the holster around her waist.

"y/n!" luke called, realizing she had stopped. "what on earth are you doing?" his voice was filled with panic.

"i'm going to kill him the only way we know how to!"

with her words still ringing in luke's ears, y/n runs towards the minotaur. she propels herself off of a large rock, getting on the right side of him. she slashed her knife through his skin, making the animal cry out harshly. he immediately went after her.

luke knew he couldn't just sick back and watch. he ran towards the minotaur just like y/n had done, and his sword was drawn.

thirteen minutes pass. luke and y/n have barely made any progress with the angry animal, and were now both running out of energy.

luke was in the process of trying to slice the bull's head off, however his focus drifted. y/n was running once again towards the animal. luke watched as she jumped right into the minotaur's grasp. she tried cutting his hand off with her own weapon, however the animal only threw her onto the hard ground. y/n felt all the air leaving her lungs, and the last thing she saw was the minotaur's hand coming down at her.

luke could've sworn his heart stopped. y/n was laying lifeless on the forest ground.

"no!" his voice echoed through the green trees. somehow, maybe just by pure luck, by luke's loud scream the minotaur whimpered before running away. luke looked over at the animal, and threw his sword with every last bit of strength. the sword speard the minotaur's head. luke couldn't care about his sword at this moment, while y/n was bleeding out in front of him.

as luke got closer to the girl, he couldn't help it as tears started to spill onto his cheeks. he kneeled down, not hesitating to pick y/n up into his lap. he rubbed her shoulder with one hand while the other was caressing the side of her face.

luke scanned over her body. she had three large gashes going across her stomach, the blood was staining her shirt, and now luke's from holding her close to him. there was dirt and small scratches littering her face, but luke thought she was still the most beautiful girl at camp.

"y/n," luke's voice was soft, his tears spilling over much more heavily than before.

"y/n, baby, you have to wake up now," he cried.

"the minotaur's gone, you can wake up now," he reassured.

luke shook the girl once, then twice, then repeatedly.

"y/n! you have to wake up now! please!" his voice was failing him. he became to choked up with tears.

"someone help!" luke wailed, echoing in the forest, "please! help! someone help!"

luke only choked on more cries, before looking back down at y/n. he brushed the hair out of her face, and continued to rub his thumb over her cheek.

"you're gonna be okay," he whispered. he wasn't sure if it was ressure y/n, or himself.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

luke hasn't left his cabin in four days. he hasn't seen y/n in four days.

annabeth was starting to worry about luke. she saw the condition he was in when chiron brought both him and y/n back to camp. he was an absolute mess.

today was no different as annabeth knocked on the hermes cabin door. all of the campers were busy making their canoes for the yearly canoe race, but luke was no where to be found.

however, the only difference from today and the other three days she visited luke, the girl had news for him.

"luke," annabeth called, earning a mutter from the boy.

"luke sit up," she ordered.

annabeth sighed as she didn't get any sort of response from luke. she walked to his bed and pulled the blanket off his body.

"y/n is awake!" she got straight to the point.

luke turned as quickly as humanly possible. "are you serious?"

annabeth nodded fast, and laughed as luke practically lept out of his bed and was running towards the infirmary. he didn't care at the possible stares he was getting from the campers. y/n was awake.

luke walked into the infirmary, out of breath but hopeful as ever.

y/n was in the far right bed, with chiron and one of the camp nurses beside her. luke and y/n made eye contact, and luke wasn't sure if he could cry or scream.

chiron motioned himself and the other nurses out of the door, after muttering to them about giving the couple privacy.

luke instantly went to y/n, and couldn't help but let a few tears spill.

"i can't believe you're okay," he admitted. "how are you feeling?"

y/n took ahold of his shaking hand, "oh you know, as good as someone who got attacked by minotaur can be," she joked, which definitely lightened the mood in the dim infirmary.

y/n moved the blanket down and lifted her shirt to show luke her stomach, which was now cleaned, stitched and bandaged.

"looks like you'll have a cool scar now," luke chuckled.

"yeah, but now as cool as yours," y/n simply leaned forward and kissed luke's cheek, specifically where his scar was, causing a blush to cover his cheeks.

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honeybleed · 7 months

Text

— ★ LOST IN TRANSLATION // TAKUMA INO

content & warnings: female reader, she/her pronouns, black-coded reader, smut (oral, f.receiving), fluff i never know what to tag shit😭 mdni

author’s note: bestie told the ino gworlies to get on their zoom so here i am WOOP also dis been driving me nuts

word count: 1.1k

"I wanna marry her, Nanami." He said, firmly.

Nanami’s eyebrows furrowed.

Why was his twenty one year old associate talking about marriage at this age?

"What...right now?" Nanami questioned, voice still retaining his typical sternness but completely caught off guard by his statement.

"Yeah...I just, she feels right."

"What made you come to that conclusion?" Nanami asked, taking a sip from the glass in front of him.

"I...remember we went out together and went on the ferris wheel. She’s just so-"

"That's nice and all, but i hope you realise how big of a step marriage is." Nanami chided. "Don’t you think to propose out of nowhere would freak her out?"

"I know! That’s why I came to you." He whined. "I don't wanna lose her but damn it what if this jujutsu crap kills me one day? I want her! She’s my other, half Nanami."

Nanami let out a whistle.

"You're in deep, aren't you? You want my advice so bad? Even if it doesn't align with what you want?"

"Well, yeah!"

"Don't."

"Huh-?"

"Maybe it's the old-fashioned side of me but don’t get married until you have a real home, a real job and you're not blinded by lust."

"...I can't."

Your chest was heaving, your toes were curled and your hands were firmly gripping the sheets.

"Sure you can." he said a little muffled against you.

"Quit back talking during sex." You huffed.

"M'sorry." He mumbled, then continued suckling at your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your back arched and you squinted your eyes shut, feeling your high approach you.

He went lower to lick stripes downwards which caused your thighs to uncontrollably quiver. alternating between sucking and kissing, he increased his speed which sent you hurtling towards your climax.

"You taste so good..." he murmured. "Could stay between your thighs forever."

You saw white spots in your vision and cried out something you instantly regretted as soon as your body went limp.

Ino slowly pulled away from wet, swollen and sticky entrance and met your eyes with a bewildered look.

His unkempt brown locks looked even more dishevelled than usual and his mouth was sheeny from your essence.

You hand flew to your mouth when you gained clarity.

"Did you just say that you love me...?" He questioned, pupils dilated.

Your mouth went dry.

It was heat of the moment. How could you love a man you'd been seeing for a few weeks? There was dozens of explanations swirling around your head.

You didn't want to drive him away.

"Mhm...I got too into it. I’m sorry-"

"Why are you apologising?"

"...Are you gonna leave me?"

"Why would i leave you?"

"Cos guys hate clingy girls."

"It’s just a lot." He said, a little lowly. "I’m gonna go shower."

You were absolutely mortified. Confessing during an orgasm then getting the most awkward response ever? You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole.

As Ino stood outside the high rise building, two thoughts crossed his mind. Firstly, why'd his girlfriend have to work at the most boujee place in town?

He could see you approaching from the glass doors in the lobby. God damn it, how did you look even more sexier at work?

White blouse and black mid skirt hugging your ass. He hoped you didn't have a male boss.

You had a concerned look on your face as your arms were folded. As soon as you arrived, you shut down his jovial greeting as you grabbed his arm and yanked him towards an inconspicuous corner.

"Ino, what the hell are you doing here?!" You hissed through gritted teeth. "I had to stop my bitch supervisor from getting the security guards to rough up a suspicious looking vagrant."

"What?! You heard that and thought it was me?!"

"No dummy, I looked out the window." You retorted.

He twisted his lips to the side.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me.." He said a little sheepishly.

"Under normal circumstances, yes. But a) I have not heard from you in days and b) you can't just turn up in the middle of my work shift dressed like, this." You stated as you gestured to his trainers, beanie and sweatpants.

"I'm sorry, k? I just got caught up with stuff." He mumbled, as he nervously rubbed the nape of his neck at your scolding.

"That’s not good enough of an excuse. The least you could've done was text me saying you're busy." You said, haughtily. You averted your gaze for your next sentence.

"I thought you ghosted me."

"What?! No! I-”

"Well, it sure felt like that! I’m sorry for saying that, I got a little caught in the moment but I don't deserve to be treated like that."

"Wait, Y/N. I acted lame because that was the first time a girl ever confessed that to me. n I suppose it was a little unconventional since it was when I was going down on you-"

"Keep your voice, DOWN." You hissed.

"There's nobody here!" He pouted. "But I’m sorry, you're right. I'll never do something stupid like that again. and... I love you too Y/N. So much."

Your jaw went slack as you were beyond caught off guard at his confession.

"Hell, I even went to Nanami and told him I wanted to marry you."

"W-what did he say?"

"I think he knew we both are bein' a little impulsive right now."

"It's been a few weeks so... I guess we're in over our heads with this. Let's give it more time for things and maybe then we can think about it."

"Be more honest with me, Kuma." You said, returning to the nickname you fondly gave him. "You don't need to go to Nanami for advice about me, you know."

"It wasn't about you, I have my old man but Nanami is a good male figure to me. He told me he'd only get married if he could provide for his woman so...when I make a lotta money! And have a big ass house, I want you to be my wife."

"If you want to!" He said hurriedly. "Of course, cos if you say no that's cool, well not cool but I’d understa-"

He was cut off when you leaned in to crush your lips against his. His body was rigid but he immediately relaxed and settled his hands on your waist.

You pulled away, lips barely inches apart.

"I’d love to." You whispered beaming.

author’s note: not tew fond on the ending ☠️ like i gotta remind myself this is FAN FICTION. but yes i live in a world where a man wanna marry yew if the coochie dat good LMFAOOOOO MI BODY RIGHT PUNANI TIGHT also kuma is cute since it means bear kay bye

#jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jjk x female reader #takuma ino #takuma ino x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ nara scribbles

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chuplayswithfire · 6 months

Text

I have more thoughts on how and why the sex was a mistake. I will be thinking about this all week. All year.

Let's start with: the sex was consensual, they both wanted it, and that does not change that it was the wrong decision for their relationship in that moment. They should not have had sex! Ed is 100% correct and he is not running away when he says that! He is not just avoiding his feelings or getting cold feet, he is genuinely correct, and here's why:

They continue to be on different pages. They have not had a chance to talk it through. It's been like 2-3 max since Ed woke up from the Gravy Basket, and emotions are still running high. Even ignoring that they were just tortured in front of each other and that Stede killed a man right after Ed asked him not to, they were not in the same space emotionally regarding their relationship.

Fir one thing: Stede did *not* get his heartbroken (prior to this). He got his romantic affirmation. Season 1 was an entire arc leading to Stede realizing he is gay, that he is in love, that he is loved in return. For him, for HIM, sex is a natural next step, and we already knew he wanted it from how he deepened their kiss in episode 5. Their relationship itself is not a source of trauma for Stede; he loves Ed and he walked away from his old life to be with him, and now he found him again, and they've agreed to do it together, figure things out, his romantic hopes are realized.

And in that moment, adding to that background informations, is that Stede also wanted to avoid all his messy feelings by being physical. He was tortured and he watched Ed and his crew be tortured, he was insulted and had to listen to Ed be insulted, and he wanted to regain control and power by killing Ned Low, and removing the threat. That's where Stede's head is.

Ed, on the other hand, did get his heart broken and while the majority of what he's working through is about his self-hatred, his dissatisfaction with his career, and his desire to find a life that feels worth living, he is also dealing with a significant amount of trust issues with his relationship with Stede, because Stede left him. He has heard from Stede that he loves him, but Ed's deepest fear is that he's unlovable, and he hasn't gotten over that, or his hurt from how things went, in the like two days it's been.

But he loves Stede, and he's attracted to him, and he wants him, so when Stede initiates and manhandles him a bit and things get hot and heavy, he consents. He's all in, carried away by the moment.

And he regrets it.

He especially wasn't ready because Ed is a planner. I know we were all joking about how they definitely weren't going to take it slow and they were going to rush through, but I do genuinely think he meant it. Ed's natural state is as a planner and tactician, everything has an angle for him and even when he wants to just be simple, he always has a bajillion factors in mind that he's juggling, so we can be sure that Ed probably did very much have thoughts about how he wanted their first time to go, and what he wanted them to do and grow into as a relationship before they had sex, and instead they got tortured, Stede killed a man, and then they fucked in the aftermath.

Not bloody optimal indeed.

Now back to Stede: he is utterly unprepared for the idea that the sex could be a mistake because to and for him it was the natural next step in their relationship. This is his romantic fantasy is the thing; he was a cool brave pirate captain who made an enemy walk the plank in defense of his crew and his boyfriend, and then Ed came to him and Stede got to sweep him off his feet and shove him against the wall, kiss him, bring him to the bed, and pointedly shut the curtains on an audience that doesn't exist, followed by a lazy morning after with breakfast in bed.

So it probably hurts extra that Ed is like that was a mistake. This is literally him living his fantasy from episode 1, Ned Low even has facial hair and is mean to him like Izzy used to be. He could ignore all the realities of that situation, because he was living his fantasy, and Ed dragged them both out of fantasyland, back to the real world, where their relationship isn't fixed 100% and sex didn't change that.

They weren't on the same page. They still aren't, because they need to talk.

#ofmd #edward teach #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd meta

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aemndx · 1 year

Note

I love the way you write possessive Aemond in your work. I love the idea of a possessive slightly unhinged Aemond wanting something/someone for himself. Especially because he’s is intelligent and cunning enough to do low key wild and manipulative things to make sure he gets to be with the person he wants. I’m so excited when I saw you tagged possessive Aemond in the last few writings you posted

— 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘.

gif credit.

author’s note: …here we fucking go again. yea, i’m writing a lil drabble about my slut of a husband, aemond. do i regret it? no. i hope you enjoy & please reblog, comment + leave ur feedback..! it really helps me stay motivated to keep writing. thank you, babes. ♡

warnings: minors dni. light smut. dark themes. fingering. kissing. female pronouns. possessive behavior. pet names. romance. fluff. any grammatical errors are my own -- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

word count: 790.

pairings: aemond targaryen x reader (f).

♡࿐ aemond targaryen has always thought of you as his.

his to protect, his to care for, his to love. ever since he met you, he surrounded himself around you, keeping you close by his side and never letting you out of his sight – unless absolutely necessary, and one of his most trusted guards had to be with you at all times.

even then, aemond would be on edge, not trusting anyone else to protect you like he could.

you thought he was charming.

aemond would look at you like you’re the center of the universe, like you held all of the stars.

aemond thinks it’s cute when you learn something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new information with him – even if he already knows it.

on lazy days, the prince will sit with you in his lap, one arm wrapped around your waist protectively–(while his other arm would be underneath the skirt of your dress, softly caressing the naked part of your smooth inner thighs with the tips of his fingers, teasingly)–and listen intently while you try and explain what you’ve just learned to him.

nonchalantly, he’d nod along, though would be just as focused on your plush lips moving as well as the words pouring out of them.

although, halfway through explaining, you’d turn around in his lap and claim his mouth against yours hungrily, while his fingers would slowly fuck your dripping cunt in the secluded library, not stopping until you’d come harshly on his lap.

there would be times where aemond would sneak into your chambers to spend time with you, specifically at the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close as physically possible to you. he loves you so much, he doesn’t ever want you to doubt his love for you.

during those private evenings, aemond would claim you as his – multiple times until you were a shaking, sobbing mess beneath him, in his arms.

he’d leave all sorts of love marks behind, kissing every inch of your skin he could reach, before thrusting his long, thick cock into your sweet cunt with both of your moans echoing off the walls.

you’d be terrified of somebody finding out about you two, but aemond would always reassure you – whispering sweet praises in your ear, calming you by kissing your neck and jaw as you’d let out the most irresistible moans for him as he continued fucking into you, uncaring of who heard you both.

…besides, if someone did manage to find out about the two of you, he’d kill them without a seconds notice.

aemond is very possessive over you, to the point that some of the lords and ladies started to take notice, though aemond paid them little attention.

some days, when the weather was warm and the sun was shining, aemond would bring you on long walks through the gardens, just the two of you.

there was a secret hidden place, surrounded by various trees and gorgeous flowers, and aemond would press your back up against one of the many thick trees, kissing you so passionately that you’d see stars.

“marry me,” aemond begged, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your sensitive neck, causing a whimper to escape your pretty lips, your breathing coming out in short, little gasps.

“mmm.. no,” you drawled, though your tone is teasing. “my father is suspicious of all the rumors about us, but he doesn’t ask. i feel like maybe he’s afraid of you,” you giggled, batting your eyelashes up at the handsome prince.

the prince smiles, pleased.

“besides,” you continued, your voice saddened and your heart breaking into a million little pieces. “my father.. he will arrange a marriage for me someday and i must–“

“that'll never happen,” aemond cuts you off, confidently. “if your father tries to take you away from me, he’ll suffer a horribly painful death.”

your heart flutters, your cheeks heating up and your head beginning to feel faint. “you're so sweet.” you whisper, smiling.

“only for you, my sweet girl.” the prince says, tenderly brushing his knuckles along your cheekbone, before bending down and capturing your lips in his once more – he tastes of honey and strawberries.

you moan, high pitched and so needy for him.

gods, he loved you.

aemond grinned, continuing his assault downwards your delicate neck. “marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient. you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly on his chin, making him squeeze your waist in equal affection.

“be my wife,” he says, tone commanding and sweet as sugar and death.

you sighed, pulling back just slightly so that your lips brushed softly over his, “i’d love nothing more.”

fin

feel free to send in requests / thots here.

#◜ 𝗇𝗈𝖺’𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 ˚✧ ꜝ #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond smut #aemond fluff #prince aemond #house of the dragon aemond #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd s1 #hotd

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avoxrising · 5 months

Text

The Feral One • Chapter 2

Finnick x Reader

Series Masterlist Link

I had some down time while my flight was delayed so here’s another chapter! Hopefully chapter 3 will come out in a few days but we shall see. Thanks for all the love on the first chapter!

Content warnings - flashback to prostitution assault and detailed descriptions of killing/death

You weren’t always known as a feral victor. Sure, some of your kills in the arena were a bit much, but it’s not uncommon to see that behavior in the games. It is a fight to the death after all. What is uncommon, however, is that literal fight continuing afterwards.

After the incident with the first doctor, which was kept quiet from the public at first, Snow believed you would still be of use from him. He thought the capital doctors could “fix you” and make you “civilized” again. He’s lucky he always had guards with him, or he would have ended up on your list.

Finnick, your mentor, thought that your post-arena violence might save you from his fate in the capital. He tried to convince Snow that it wasn’t a good idea to assign you clients, that you were unpredictable and things could go very wrong. Snow thought it would be fine.

“Sure she may put up a fight,” he told Finnick, “most of them do. But, I don’t think that should be an issue for her client. He could break her quite easily if he needed to.”

And break you he did, just not physically. It was you who did the physical breaking.

You didn’t mean to kill him, nor anyone else outside the arena, but his grotesque hands roaming your body triggered something deep inside you; a primal instinct you first felt in the arena. It was kill or be killed.

You tried to push through it. Snow had warned you what would happen to your family if you didn’t comply. But laying there being completely violated by this capital man broke the only pieces of you that had survived the arena. Your mind had convinced itself that you were out of options.

The man’s avox had phoned the police when she heard him scream, but they weren’t fast enough. He was so engrossed in his actions that he didn’t notice the way your eyes turned cold, or the way you stopped protesting.

Less than two minutes later, he was dead. You still can’t shake the feeling of his eyeballs under your nails, or the sound he made as you crushed his esophagus. The worst part was having to unattach yourself from him when the ordeal was over. You didn’t even protest when the police entered. They sedated you and carried you off, away from the scene of your crime.

Did you mean to kill him? No.

Do you regret it? Absolutely not.

The only thing you regret is coming out of that arena alive; but what’s done is done and there’s no going back.

Your prep team won’t go anywhere near you for the parade, which is quite the dilemma. How the hell were you supposed to get ready? You’re surprised a stylist designed something for you at all, or that they’re even letting you participate for that matter.

Apparently, your stylist didn’t design the outfit. He said that his mentor, Tigress, wanted to design something for you specifically but she is banned from the games so he volunteered to bring her design to you. He’s the first person in the capital who doesn’t seem terrified to be in your presence, but the peacekeepers still won’t let him near.

You’re forced to dress in front of the peacekeepers. They uncuff you at least but it’s still uncomfortable. You would strangle them all right now but unfortunately there would be consequences.

Snow paid you a visit last night. He told you exactly what would happen if you went “feral” before the games.

“We wouldn’t want Mr. Odair’s pedestal to malfunction while he was standing on it, would we?” he stated. “Or for Mrs. Flanagan to come down with a horrible illness. That would be quite unfortunate.”

You had to do everything possible to keep yourself under control, but even that could only help so much. The rage you felt inside was growing and it wasn’t calming down anytime soon.

“Why isn’t it ready yet?” the shrill voice of Linessa calls to the peacekeepers outside of your room.

“No prep team would touch her,” they tell her. “The tribute is getting herself dressed.”

“Move,” Finnick states as he pushes past the group to enter your room. You’re mostly clothed but are having issues with zipping up the back of your gown.

It’s a beautiful blue gown that hugs your skin before flaring out just below your hips. The stylist explained it as, “The image of a silent siren. A deeply misunderstood mythological creature of the ocean.”

Finnick slowly approaches, making sure you can see his hands.

“Can I help get you ready?” he asks. “We need to be out there soon.”

You nod and turn so he can zip up your dress. The feeling of his hands on your back causes you to tense up but you grit your teeth and remind yourself it’s just Finnick.

Practically grinding your teeth dull, you let Finnick do a simple makeup look on you to match your outfit. You wish you could give him an outfit instead of a net but neither you nor Mags have a say in the matter. You especially don’t.

Finnick is especially careful not to touch the scar that runs down the side of your face. You got it during your games and the capital doctors refused to polish it off after you killed one with a scalpel for taking your temperature. You wish you had the temperament to let him cover it up with the makeup but you know it would set you off.

When he’s done, the peacekeepers come and recuff your wrists but leave your feet free so you don’t trip in the dress.

“She doesn’t need those,” Finnick tells them.

“I’m sorry Mr. Odair but these are direct orders from Snow,” they state.

“Will you remove them before the parade?” he asks.

“No,” they state. Mags whispers something to Finnick and he nods in understanding before approaching you slowly.

“Hey,” he calmly states. “I need to go talk to some people before the parade. Stay with Mags and I’ll come get you before we start.” You nod and he leaves.

The peacekeepers force you and Mags out to where the chariots are, but make you stay along the edge of the stables where they can keep an eye on you. They wouldn’t want any of the “excitement” to start before the games begin.

You can see Finnick talking to Katniss, last year’s victor. You don’t really know any of the other victors besides Finnick and Mags. They know all about you, of course, but none of them care enough to get to know you. The only one who has ever spoken to you (over the phone of course) is Johanna Mason of District 7. She’s pretty close with Finnick and they talk all the time. You would be jealous if Finnick didn’t practically live at your place and spend all his time with you. Plus Johanna hates people.

“Hey feisty!” you hear Johanna call as she approaches you. Finnick has shown you pictures of her but outside of that and watching her games you had only ever heard her voice. The peacekeepers move to block her but one glare from her sends them away. “How’s life outside of your cell?”

You give her a thumbs down and she laughs in response, catching the attention of the other tributes.

“Well I give it double thumbs down,” she states.

“Johanna!” you hear a male yell. “Get your ass over here.”

“Ugh Blight’s calling,” Johanna groans. “See ya later feisty!”

You think you’re done socializing for today when you’re approached by a young blond boy. He doesn’t protest when the peacekeepers keep him five feet away.

“Hi y/n,” he states. “I’m Peeta. I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

You give him a blank stare as you study him. Something about you feels like he’s harmless, but you can’t be too sure.

“Ah Melark,” Gloss booms as he approaches the boy. “Don’t take it personal. Feral doesn’t talk.”

It’s clear these two haven’t met before as Peeta looks a bit scared of the career. You’d met Gloss once before your games as he was your allies’ mentor, but you haven’t spoken in years. Him and Finnick aren’t close.

“Oh, uh I’m sorry,” Peeta stutters. He glances over his shoulder to see Finnick flirting with Katniss. “Uh nice to meet you I guess.”

Peeta looks harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Katniss, on the other hand, looks like trouble.

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#hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games fic #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick x oc #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #catching fire #finnick odair angst #finnick x you #thg finnick #finnick fluff #the feral one

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bucketsofmonsters · 1 month

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Deep Water - Part 3

cw: the ocean, almost drowning, kidnapping, more tags to be added as the story continues

merman x fem reader

Word count: 5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

On your first day of work, you were already regretting not pushing harder to get your siren to promise you he would stay away, glimpses of a snaking tail under the water every few hours stopping your heart for a beat every time.

You ignored your first sighting, reporting into the office, getting a list of duties and of expected intake for the day.

You asked when you’d be paid, part of you worried he’d say at the end of the month and you’d be stuck without a place to stay for weeks. You let out a sigh of relief when he said at the end of the week. Only two more days then. You could manage two more days. You were sent off on your way without much else said.

No one was assigned to help you, to figure out what you were supposed to do or how to start, so you did the only thing you could think of. You went and found Finn.

His face lit up the second he saw you, dropping the box he was holding to run over to your side.

“Hello little lady, how’s your first day going?”

You glanced back at the discarded cargo. “Do you not need to get that?”

“Is this going to take long? Okay, you probably want help, I’ll be right back.”

He rushed over to the dropped box that at the very least didn’t look like it had been damaged and hauled it over to a safer location, amidst some other unpacked boxes.

He was back at your side before the incredulous huff of laughter managed to escape you, giving you a sheepish look. “Sorry if I’m overeager, we don’t get many pretty girls out here, I’ve gotta try and help you before someone else snatches you up.”

You gave him a humoring laugh, more polite than anything.

You had a feeling your intentions with one another did not align, but he seemed pleasant and helpful and whatever his intentions happened to be, you could use that right about now.

And he held true to his word. For the rest of the day, he helped you figure out your various duties, largely abandoning his own, only occasionally popping out to make excuses or run and do something that others laughed and insisted really couldn’t wait.

The day passed quickly. The work wasn’t particularly hard, just repetitive. Finn did his best to help but once you realized he couldn’t read, it became a little more difficult.

He still hovered over your shoulder, something that you appreciated but had the unintended consequence of you having to struggle to pull his attention every time you caught another flash of scales out of the corner of your eye.

They seemed particularly likely to appear whenever Finn set off from his latest task he was ignoring to help you again.

You bristled at the thought, trying to tell yourself you were making up patterns, that it wasn’t anything at all.

At least you hoped you were. If it was a pattern, you were going to kill him.

Even once you got the hang of things, Finn refused to actually leave you, insisting that it was improper to abandon you on your first day. You just smiled and continued on, set on getting everything done. First impressions were important after all, and you needed to look just as valuable as your sister had been.

Before you knew it, the day was over and people had begun filing out. It wasn’t empty, the dock was never really empty, but it had quieted down and you finished the last of your work, marking everything down as neatly and perfectly as you could.

“I can take that back for you!” Finn exclaimed as you carefully looked over your work for any glaring mistakes. He seemed excited to find something he could actually help you with.

Part of you wanted to refuse, to take it back yourself, but he seemed too excited, refusing felt like kicking a puppy. Besides, you imagined he’d have a few kind words to say about you and that couldn't hurt.

He came darting back over in minutes, that persistent, goofy smile plastered across his face as he skidded to a halt. “Mission accomplished, ma’am,” he said with a little salute.

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said, trying to push as much gratitude as you could into your voice.

“Now that that’s done, I was wondering if you wanted to go out or something. I could get you some drinks or food or whatever, celebrate your first day being over.”

There it was, exactly what you’d worried this had all been leading to. “Finn…”

Water came splashing up through the gaps in the wood on the dock, drenching the pair of you.

You jumped, reflexively and far too late to save yourself from any of the water.

As you looked through the slats, you could have sworn you saw the glint of scales.

“Yes,” you blurted out, bringing Finn’s attention back to you. “That sounds great.”

You gave him what felt like a poor approximation of an excited smile.

“Really? That’s amazing. The ocean seems to have something to say about it. She’s nervous, poor girl. Promise I won’t leave you behind.” He spoke down to the waves, attempting to lighten the mood as he saw your face go white in your newly wetted skirts.

You smiled, your heart hammering in your ears, and after another quiet little bit of reassurance, he scurried off, telling you to stay put while he found a coat he’d discarded earlier in the hot sun and promptly forgotten about, and then you could be off.

Simon, you guessed that was what you were calling him now, decided that was an opportune time to breach the surface of the water and look up at you with those big, golden eyes.

An anger that had been simmering quietly inside of you at every flash of scales you’d seen throughout the day came to a head as he had the audacity to simply appear like this. “Go away,” you hissed, the words coming out louder than you meant them to.

This wasn’t like the day before. You knew Finn would be back any moment, you didn’t have time to argue on the shore.

He remained resolutely above the water, looking up at you with a determination that almost frightened you set across his impish features.

When he opened his mouth, you held your hands out, trying to tell him to stop, that it wasn’t safe.

And then he started speaking and your hands fell limp to your sides, warning him not seeming quite so important anymore.

The words sounded different. Maybe he was singing? It was hard to tell. You couldn’t even make out the words, couldn’t understand any of it. All you knew was that he was there. Why were you all the way up here? You should be down there with him. Maybe then you could understand.

Whatever noises he was making, ones you were too far away to really hear, wormed their way right through your ears into your head, snaking their way around inside you, taking up the space where your thoughts were moments ago.

There was nothing but him.

Everything else faded away until all you could see was amber eyes.

And then, walking carefully and intentionally, you tumbled into the water, seemingly of your own accord.

The second you hit the icy water, the warm calm you’d been pulled into dissipated. You weren’t sure if it was the shock of the water or your head going under, no longer able to hear the hypnotic noises from the siren you’d thought was harmless. At least to you.

And what a foolish notion that was. He was a siren. It didn't matter if he'd saved you or not, of course he was dangerous. You weren’t special to him. Why would you be?

As you tried to come up for air his arms met your shoulders and pushed you deeper and you realized, horrifically, just how wrong you’d been.

You didn’t understand why he did what he’d done, why he’d helped you before. Maybe he’d just been playing with his food, toying with you until he got bored.

Your mind newly cleared, you fought to swim up. As you did, his tail wound around your legs and you saw a pout break out across his face.

Panic rose in your chest and he watched, head tilted, examining you carelessly, with your legs still bound together under the water.

He looked at you, eyes big and bright and expectant, flicking across your face as he tried to fight back a smile.

You struggled and his hand grasped yours, keeping it in place, effortlessly keeping you under the waves. The bright look in his eyes shifted to confusion, seeming baffled as to why you’d rather breach the surface than steal a kiss from him and let the cold water invade your lungs.

As he stared expectantly and confused at you, you wiggled just enough to free one leg, something he seemed unconcerned with as he continued to hold you under. He knew he was stronger than you, that you had no real shot of escape. You both did.

That didn’t matter to you. You brought your knee up as swiftly and firmly as you could in the cold water that forced a horrible, sluggish feeling into your limbs, and kneed him right in his gills.

That seemed to activate some instinct in him and he wrapped entirely around you, effortlessly countering you at every point of struggle. They were the movements of a practiced hunter.

You kicked and fought and made every attempt to break away and breach the surface but he was too strong, too practiced at this. At holding people down.

You wondered how you matched up to them, how hard you fought compared to his other prey, if he’d remember this at all once you were gone?

At some point in the struggle you must have kissed, in the loosest sense of the word. You missed it in the flurry of movement, just another brush of skin against skin in the struggle. It must have happened though because as your lungs burned just a bit too much and your brain forced you to inhale, you didn’t choke on water but instead felt the burning soothe and your instincts calm, despite the salt water flooding inside you.

Regardless of your newfound ability to breathe, the fight and lack of oxygen had weakened you and your struggle slowed.

As it did, he rose to the surface

When you breached the waves, the dock was nowhere in sight. You had no idea when in your fight he’d dragged you out to sea or how far you’d gone.

“You can breathe,” he said, looking at you with that same quiet confusion as when you’d fought against him. “I made sure you could breathe. Why do you still worry?”

You inhaled in an attempt to answer him with a screamed admonishment and then, before a word could escape you, you were coughing up water

He sat patiently as you did, his arms wrapped carefully around you.

The last time you’d coughed up water like this, you’d been too relieved to be alive to really notice it. You did not have that luxury this time. The saltwater burned coming up, your lungs feeling heavy in your chest as the water poured out of you.

It felt like you were dying. You didn’t understand how you weren’t.

He didn’t seem concerned, just holding you as you fought to empty your lungs so you could finally inhale, every attempted inhalation just stirred the churning water in your lungs, agitating them further.

As you finally emptied your lungs, you sucked in air. Your chest filled and it hurt more than it brought you relief.

“You have to take me back,” you forced out, the burning in your lungs exhausting you past the point of screaming at him.

His lips pursed into a pout and his eyes darted away from yours. “You don’t even like it there,” he said, sounding openly disappointed, not even attempting to hide it. But then, why would he? You were at his mercy, he could do whatever he wanted to.

“I like it better than I like it here,” you said, gesturing around you at the open ocean.

He looked around at the ocean surrounding you and then returned his gaze intently to your face. “I can take you somewhere else.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, you’d better not…”

And then he was off, swimming quickly through the waves.

He kept your head above water carefully, although you still had to keep your mouth firmly shut to avoid inhaling anything, but even that didn’t slow him down.

And then, with no warning, you were going down, back through thick water. You didn’t have a chance to gather your bearing before it was too dark to see anything, Simon’s grip on your arm was the only thing cutting through the cold black abyss around you.

Your arm brushed against hard rock, scraping painfully before it was gone and you found yourself disoriented in the space around you once more. You could be surrounded by rock for all you knew, inches away from it. There was no way to tell, no way to really know anything about where you were being dragged.

Your fight renewed as your air began to run out and the darkness still imposed itself around you. You knew better, knew you couldn’t get away. Even if you did, you didn’t even know which direction was up anymore. Your instincts, however, were not so easily suppressed by silly things like facts.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to kill you. Even more than that, as your time under the water dragged on, why he was going to kill you? Maybe you’d upset him, made an unforgivable mistake when you kicked him or complained just a little too much. The way it looked now, you guessed you’d never know. You didn’t have the oxygen left to figure it out, your brain starting to get foggy.

And still, it continued. He dragged you down and down and then your head breached the surface and as you gasped in air, the word flipped right side up once more.

You dragged air into your pleading lungs, this time no wretched water biting your throat as you did.

Your lungs still hurt though. A quieter ache.

Your eyes adjusted slowly to the dark and you could barely make him out in what appeared to be a cave, the moon shining in through a few holes riddled in the rock above you.

“You could’ve killed me,” you said, desperation creeping into your voice.

His head tilted. “No. I know how long it takes a human to drown. You were fine.”

His words did nothing to settle your unease

“Is this better?” he asked, gesturing around to the cave you’d approached from beneath.

The water was just a small pool in a larger cave, leading off a few feet before revealing a glimpse of the outside world through the holes that let the light in.

You hauled yourself out of the water to look and saw that there was no other way out, only the horrible, dark path through the water he’d taken you through.

You couldn’t get out of here on your own.

Even if you could, you had nowhere to go. There was probably just more open water outside these walls. Even if there was land, you had no idea where you were.

You wondered if Finn was worried about you yet. Maybe he was. Or maybe he thought you’d abandoned him, left him alone on the dock in lieu of having to go out to dinner with him.

You weren’t sure which you were hoping for, which was better for him to believe. Which would be easier to explain when you returned? If you returned.

“You need to take me back,” you said, trying to force some authority into your tone.

“Can I ask you some questions about humans?” he asked, completely ignoring you.

“No,” you snapped. “You can’t. You can take me back.”

He drifted towards you and you pulled back further onto the patch of dry land.

That seemed to hurt him, like he couldn’t understand why you would possibly be wary of him.

He rested his head on the rocky shore, looking defeated, slowly drying blonde hair curling up around his eyes as it was freed of some of the weight of the water, and you fought to not think that if he hadn’t just done what he did to you, maybe he’d look sweet.

“Who was that?” he blurted out, his head lifting with his words as his jaw moved against the stone below him.

“What?”

“On the dock. He was talking to you, you were leaving with him. Who was that?”

“Who, Finn? Why do you-” A thought began to dawn on you. “His name is Finn. You hang around the dock, do you not know him?”

He shrugged in the water. “I’ve seen him.”

“And you care now? That’s kind of sudden.”

“I guess.”

“Alright. Did you kidn- Did you take me so I wouldn’t go with him.” You did your best to keep your voice measured in an attempt to get an honest response from him.

“You’re supposed to go to the beach. You weren’t going to the beach.”

“No, you rejected my deal, remember? I thought I wasn’t going to the beach because you were just hanging around.”

He rolled his eyes just barely, enough to make a quiet irritation stir in your stomach. “Can’t talk to you when I’m around,” he said, matter of factly. “You said you’d go to the beach.”

“I know, but something came up. I’d have come back. I can’t miss one day?” you said, trying to reason with him.

“One day? It was the first day!” he said with a huff.

“I hadn’t even left yet, how did you know I wasn’t going to go meet you.”

“Were you?” he asked, and you didn’t have a good answer for him.

“We’ll never know, will we? Because you decided to kidnap and almost drown me.”

“I didn’t almost drown you. I would never drown you.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Alright, well at the very least you decided to hurt me.” Sharp words bounced off the stone walls of the cave.

His eyes widened. “I hurt you?”

“Yeah, of course you did. I couldn’t breathe. And that’s beside how bad coughing up sea water hurts.”

He shook his head. “You’re fine, why would it hurt?”

“Simon,” you said, “It hurts humans when we can’t breathe. And we aren’t meant to have to breathe water, it burns when I have to get it out.”

For someone who presumably had drowned dozens of humans, he seemed to have little idea how drowning actually felt. To be fair, he probably didn’t have many chances to learn about the human side of the experience, you didn’t imagine many survived long enough to tell him about it.

“Oh,” he said, deflating a little. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Right, just to kidnap me.”

He nodded with no air of shame regarding his actions. “Yeah.”

You settled back against the wall of rock behind you, trying to think of what else you could say to get yourself out of there.

He looked up at you and suddenly he seemed unbearably nervous. “You want to leave.”

“I thought we discussed this, I have to leave. I can’t just disappear, there are people waiting for me.”

“Finn,” he asked, saying the name like it tasted rotten in his mouth.

“Yes, Finn. I told you, I can’t just disappear.”

You had to lean closer to him to hear his next words at all, his voice unbearably quiet. “It’ll hurt you.”

You slid back into the water beside him, hope sparking through you. “I’ll be fine, I just want to get out of here.”

His hands snaked around your sides, pulling you close to him. “Do you want to hold your breath or breathe the water?” You could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke. You didn’t understand how breathing worked for him, where his lungs ended and his gills began.

You shivered as you thought back to retching up the water, how it had burned coming up, how the attempted gasps felt inside already heavy lungs. “I’ll hold my breath.”

He nodded solemnly. “I will be fast.”

You sucked in a breath before he pulled you down, a luxury you had not been granted last time.

He was true to his words. You could feel the water rushing past you as you held your breath, clinging to him the whole way.

When you breached the surface, your lungs didn’t hurt quite as much as they had the first time around. His grip on you was tighter than when you’d arrived, a fear present in him that wasn’t before.

Your hands were wrapped around his neck, the desire to get yourself away from him gone now that you were fairly certain he’d bring you back, even if he wasn’t happy about it.

He brought you to the shore, a familiar spot.

Something occurred to you as you found yourself in shallow water. “How’d you even know where to take me? When you first found me, you took me right here.”

“I know where the ships are going. Always to the same spot.” He sounded almost annoyed at the ships’ predictability.

“Well, they have to go to a dock.”

He grumbled in response, his discontent evident. You weren’t sure how much of it was from this grudge against ships and how much was because he’d had to bring you back to shore.

You pulled yourself out of the water and wanted just sit there for a while, regain some of your energy.

The second you hit dry land, Simon was gone, disappearing before you could say so much as another word to him.

You didn’t really have time to talk or rest anyway, running back onto the dock as quickly as you could, hoping Finn hadn’t left yet.

You found him standing alone on the dock, looking dejected right until his eyes drifted towards you. His eyes widened as they met yours and his expression shifted from surprise to concern, rushing towards you.

“What happened?” he asked, pulling the jacket he’d run off to retrieve over your shoulders. “I thought you’d gotten bored and abandoned me but a swim at this time of day hardly seems like a good idea.”

“I fell in. Guess I’m more tired than I thought,” you said with a sheepish smile, hoping it was anything close to convincing.

His hand drifted up to push wet hair away from your face. “I’m sure you’re not feeling up to going out anymore…”

“No,” you said, not thinking of Finn at all but instead set on rebelling against the attempts to stop you from going. It wasn’t fair to Finn, but by the time that occurred to you, you’d already spoken. “I mean, you waited all this time for me, it would be rude not to go.”

He seemed too excited to notice how suspicious you were being. “Alright, but make sure you’re not overextending yourself.”

You nodded with an unenthusiastic smile and let him lead you off to a tavern somewhere.

It was a largely uneventful evening, all things considered. He bought you some soup, something nice and hot that you could feel in your bones, creating a comfortable warmth in your core.

Your reticence to talk was barely noticed. Finn seemed more than happy to fill the silence, letting you bundle up under the thick wool of his coat and focus on your food.

Before you knew it, it was gone and there was nothing left to distract yourself with.

You waited for Finn to finish whatever story he’d been telling that you hadn’t been listening to and said, “This has been lovely, but I should be getting back.”

He laughed. “What, back to work? I’m not that boring, am I?”

You started as he pulled you fully out of your head back into the tavern. “What? No, of course not.”

“So where are you staying then?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Nowhere. I’ll find an inn after I get paid but until then-”

“You could stay with me!” he blurted out before you even had the chance to finish your sentence.

You weren’t quite as enthused. “Look, Finn, I don’t…”

“This isn’t me trying to come onto you, honest. You shouldn’t have to stay out in the cold, it’s not right. I mean, no wonder you're tired. If you don’t get some proper sleep you’ll drown, and then who am I supposed to try and impress every day?”

It was most certainly untoward, but the offer was tempting nonetheless.

You reevaluated Finn, trying to determine how much you really trusted him. Enough for dinner, sure, but enough for this?

You thought about spending another night alone on the cold shore and decided that yes, you did trust him enough for this.

As soon as you nodded your assent, he grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the stairs in the tavern.

You couldn’t help but think that taking you to the tavern he was staying at felt presumptuous but the allure of a warm room and blankets were too strong for you to say anything to that effect.

His room was decently sized, with a large bed pressed against the back wall. Reassuringly, he started to set up a space on the floor for you, moving some blankets from a chair in the corner to the floor.

To your chagrin, he began to settle into the nest of blankets on the ground and you immediately moved to set it right.

“Absolutely not, you will not sleep on the floor in your own room.”

He looked up at you with big, sad eyes. “But-”

“No buts, I will leave.”

He sighed. “Fine. But know that I’m not happy about it.”

You settled onto the floor and he slid another blanket off the bed onto you. You accepted it without argument, allowing him this at least. Besides, you were in no state to be turning down blankets.

It was late and the blankets helped against your still damp form. The calm itself was refreshing and you fought the urge to thank Finn, who seemed like he’d already drifted off to sleep since you’d begun to settle down.

You had no choice but to try and follow him.

You slept restlessly but at least you slept.

#terato #merman x reader #merman x human #monster x reader #monster x human #monster bf #monster boyfriend #merman #Simon is crazy this chapter #Don’t invite a wolf into your home and then be surprised when it bites

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pyreo · 12 days

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I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)

So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?

It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.

He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.

And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.

And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.

He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...

Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.

'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'

He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.

Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-

Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.

He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.

Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.

There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.

And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.

Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.

This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #long post #yeah im sorry dungeon meshi good i'm posting through it

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torscrawls · 8 months

Text

Batman’s no-kill policy is ectophobic

Summary:

“Well that just makes it sound like he thinks ghosts are worse than humans, you know? And! It got me thinking, Batman refuses to kill his enemies, right?” “Right,” Tim faintly agreed, desperately trying to make sense of this conversation. Phantom relentlessly continued, oblivious to Tim’s spiraling sanity. “Maybe that’s because he thinks that ghosts are less than humans! He doesn’t want to create more of us.”

Phantom is upset that Batman refuses to kill his enemies. Tim just wants his shift to start so he can get out of this conversation.

Words: 1 245

You can read the whole thing on AO3.

Tim was sitting in the break room of the Watchtower, mindlessly flipping channels on the big wall-mounted TV while trying to wake up for his next shift. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Phantom slowly drift in front of the big windows, face almost pressed against the glass and his whole attention fixed on the stars outside.

This in and of itself wasn’t anything uncommon; Phantom seemed to have an almost obsessive fascination with space, but what had caught Tim’s attention was the frown on the ghost’s face. Normally he would have a dreamy expression if not a big smile on his face as he watched the expanse outside the windows, but not today. And Tim was willing to admit that it was getting to him.

After another few minutes of switching between channels, silence, and no change in the frowning Tim pressed the off button on the remote and heaved a sigh as he turned to face the window and the floating ghost. “What’s wrong?”

Phantom startled as if he had forgotten he wasn’t alone in the room, or as if he had forgotten he could be seen by others. He had a bad habit of forgetting to turn himself visible and scaring the shit out of people around the tower. He looked over his shoulder and fixed Tim with a wide eyed, literally shining, look of confusion. “What do you mean wrong?”

Tim made a vague gesture at the ghost. “You’ve been frowning ever since I got here. Did something happen?”

Phantom turned around in the air, spinning on his own axis until he was looking at Tim upside down. Tim noted that his hair stayed in the same position throughout. He wasn’t jealous, not at all.

“Well, I was just thinking... Does Batman hate ghosts?”

Tim blinked, thrown by the direction the conversation had taken. “What? No?”

The frown on Phantom’s face deepened as he righted himself in the air. “But he just told me that he ‘was sorry for my loss’, as if something bad had happened? And when I asked him what he meant he said he regretted not being able to save me.”

Tim paused, weighting his words carefully before slowly saying, “I’m sure he just meant that he was sorry that you had… You know…” Tim trailed off, winced, and then forced out, “Died.”

It was always a hard subject to breach, nobody liked to think about death. The Justice League and the Batfamily had all come to the unanimous decision to avoid the subject around their newest member since they were convinced that he would react badly to the topic.

Phantom snorted. “Yeah I know. Kinda hard to miss.”

“I didn’t mean—”

But Phantom cut him off, “Wait. Is that why none of you talk about death around me? You’re scared that I’m gonna be, what? Offended?”

“Well… No?” Tim said unconvincingly.

Phantom laughed. “Oh my Ancients! You did! That’s so cute!”

“You know, we don’t really talk about death with each other either,” Tim said, feeling like he had to defend himself somehow.

Phantom tilted his head, still smiling. “Why?”

Tim blinked, thrown by the question. “Because… People don’t like to think about that?”

Phantom pursed his lips in thought. “See, that’s what I meant! Isn’t that just kinda rude? I mean, I’m dead, does that mean you guys don’t wanna think about me?”

“No?” Now it was Tim’s turn to frown. “That’s different.”

“Hmm,” Phantom hummed, looking unconvinced.

Tim scrambled for a change in subject and latched onto the first thing that came to mind. “So why would you think that Bruce hated you just because he said he was sorry for your loss?”

“Well that just makes it sound like he thinks ghosts are worse than humans, you know? And! It got me thinking, Batman refuses to kill his enemies, right?”

“Right,” Tim faintly agreed, desperately trying to make sense of this conversation.

Phantom relentlessly continued, oblivious to Tim’s spiraling sanity. “Maybe that’s because he thinks that ghosts are less than humans! He doesn’t want to create more of us.”

Tim had to step in at that, feeling like they weren’t on the same page when it came to some very important fundamentals. “Phantom, you—you understand that people don’t like dying, right? It’s the end.”

Phantom tilted his head with a look of confusion. “It’s not though?”

And Tim guessed that was true. He couldn’t really argue the point with a literal ghost, now could he?

“The town I come from, people don’t really care. Death, life, it’s kinda all the same,” Phantom said happily, as if that wasn’t a very troubling statement to make. And with no respect for Tim’s quickly dwindling sanity, he continued with a thoughtful finger tapping at his lower lip, “Except that death has a lot more flying in it. And energy beams.”

Tim made a mental note to try and find out exactly what town Phantom was talking about. Hopefully it wasn’t one on Earth. He managed a resigned, “Of course,” and hoped that was the end of the conversation. He needed to have enough energy left for his whole shift after all.

But Phantom just nodded and continued on, “Batman refusing to kill his enemies is all just an obvious ploy not to have them move on as ghosts!”

“Obviously,” Tim faintly agreed.

“That’s messed up! He just wants to trap them in the human realm with him so he can torment them forever!” Phantom shook his head. “I know a couple of people in the Zone who would love to exchange torture ideas with him. I thought that Fright Knight was scary and now I’m working with a guy like that, can you believe it?”

Tim couldn’t. “I—I don’t think that’s what he means by that.”

Phantom huffed in annoyance and crossed his arms. “It’s blatant ectophobia, is what it is!”

Tim opened his mouth to try and come up with an argument when the subject of their argument stepped into the break room. Bruce addressed him with clear disapproval in his voice, “Red Robin, you’re late for your shift.”

Tim had never been so grateful to receive Bruce’s disappointment. At least he wasn’t alone in this shitshow of a conversation anymore. “I’m sorry. Me and Phantom was just having a conversation about how you’re clearly discriminatory towards ghosts.”

Bruce stopped from where he had turned to leave. “…What?”

Phantom nodded. “Yeah! Don’t think I’ve forgotten your rude comment earlier about your condolences!”

Despite the bizarre situation, Tim almost laughed at the shocked expression on Bruce’s face, visible even under the mask. His father opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again, “I was just saying that I wish I could have helped you before you ended up as a ghost.”

“And I’m saying that that’s clearly showing a preference for living people!”

Bruce pressed his mouth into a thin line before saying, “I think we need to have a conversation about the value of life if you’re going to be joining us on any more rescue missions.”

“See!” Phantom looked at Tim as he gestured angrily at Bruce “There he goes again!”

Tim got up from the sofa. “I’m late for my shift.” And he left the break room as if the ghosts of hell were at his heals. Which they kind of were; Phantom’s angry voice following him down the corridor. He really wasn’t awake enough for this shit.

#dp x dc #dp #danny phantom #dp fanfic #danny phantom fic #dp fic #phic #feels good to be back on my bullshit #my writing #is danny fucking with them or is it just hard for people from amity to understand others' view of death?#who knows

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strangersteddierthings · 7 months

Text

No Regrets - Part One

Content Warning: mentions of main character deaths but these are temporary because this is a time travel two-to-four-shot and so, they start dead but then get better :3 Also maybe a whiplash warning? In that it starts off kind of dark for a story that's pretty light-hearted in the end.

Here's the first part of the threatened season 4 AU time travel fic where Steve gets thrown back to the moment in family video when Dustin and Max show up demanding the phones. Previously he was 5 years into a grueling apocalypse.

Part One🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six

Steve has lived his life in regret. Replaying scenarios in his head over and over late at night when sleep eludes him. And sleep is always eluding him these days, weeks, past five years. Steve hasn't known a day without regret since the day they failed to kill Vecna, the day Max almost died. The day Eddie did.

It's five years to the day today.

Steve spends endless nights thinking about how he'd change that spring break. It was the start of the end of everything. Eddie's death wasn't world ending for Steve. It was the end of a what-if. A maybe. But for Dustin. Oh God, Dustin. Who had blamed himself for Eddie's death, who was broken and then never able to get time to recover. To grieve.

Dustin, who pulled away from everyone, from Steve, because of it.

He's not dead, Steve knows, because he still hears his voice on the radio. Separated from the group but vital to their survival. He spread intel on Demo-creature movements, where safe spaces are, news from across the broken and destroyed America, and how to survive the hellscape.

There have been losses. Terrible, tragic losses.

Murray Baughman. Lucas Sinclair. Karen and Holly Wheeler. Will Byers. And those are just the ones he knows. A lot of people scattered to the wind when Hawkins became overran with the Upside Down and its creatures.

He's still two days out on this supply run. Two more days and he'll get to know who is still around. Who they lost this time. It's not always someone they know, but the horrors never cease, and Steve's been gone a total of three weeks.

"Hey," Robin breaks him from his thoughts as she leans over to whisper in his ear, "since you're gonna daydream, you might as well actually dream. Scouts say it'll be a while before we can continue moving."

"I'm not daydreaming, I'm thinking."

"Well, be sleeping instead. You'll be more useful with some rest," Robin pats her shoulder, inviting him to lean his head against it.

"Don't use my weakness against me. You know I love being useful," Steve sighs as he drops his head onto her shoulder.

"I know. It makes you easy to manipulate," Robin teases. He can hear the smile in her voice. "Now, shut up and sleep."

Steve grumbles under his breath. No real words, just grumpy noises as he does shift and get as comfortable as he can leaned against Robin. He is tired, and with nothing else he can be doing, he won't feel too guilty about it.

He closes his eyes.

He opens his eyes, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness of the sun shining through the glass storefront of Family Video. Usually when he dreams of the past, the sun's never this bright. It's been years since he's seen the sun at all, with the red-black sky of the Upside Down looming above them constantly.

He takes a deep breath, basking in the fresh(ish) air of Family Video. How long has it been since he's taken a breath without his mouth covered by a mask, bandana, some cloth or another? Well, he's not really breathing without a mask on, his conscious self has one on, but it still feels good to fill his lungs and release. He has half a mind to jump the counter and go outside to repeat that; see if his unconscious mind will provide a difference in the air, if it remembers enough to do so.

"Hey Steve," Dustin says as he is stepping through the doors with Max at his side. It's then that Steve takes in where the dream has started. The doors have just opened, and Steve's looking partially over his shoulder, towards the doors instead of the TV as it plays the news of Chrissy's death on the screen. The world fades back into motion, instead of the slowness the beginning of his dream started as Dustin finishes his question, "how many phones do you have?"

"Are you seeing this?" Steve asks on autopilot, playing out the scene he knows, but he holds off from stating the someone was murdered part. He's tired of saying it.

"How many phones do you have?" Dustin asks with more urgency.

Steve takes in Dustin and Max while Robin explains the phone situation. It's been so fucking long since he's seen Dustin. Since Max was able to see him. God. He can't let this play out like normal. It's not going to fix reality, he knows that logically, but what would it hurt to live out his fantasy of getting a re-do while he dreams? Wasn't that what he was thinking about while awake?

He tunes back into the conversation when Dustin shoves his backpack across the counter, and then himself. Instead of whining about the tapes, he reaches for the pen and notepad they keep close to the till. "Hey, what's this about?"

"Max, fill them in while I do this," Dustin replies.

Max turns to him and Robin, who is eyeing both Steve and Max but listening. Max explains what Steve already knows. The lights going crazy, Eddie fleeing his own home, and that it might be Upside Down related.

There's a script here. Responses he has memorized because of how often he dreams this moment over and over. An answer Steve usually gives, but this time he finds he can hold his tongue. He doesn't have to speak. Doesn't have to follow the script.

"Okay," Steve says instead. "Dustin, what's the number for the Byers now?

Surprisingly, that actually pulls Dustin from the computer. He spins on the stool to give Steve a confused look. "What? Why?"

If he's being honest with himself, he's never really had this much control over his dreams before. Having this control makes him want to do all the things he's daydreamed about. To change the choices that fill him with regret and guilt. "I want to leave a message for Jonathan," Steve lies, "or talk to him if he's home. Give him a heads up that Upside Down shit might be going on again."

Dustin narrows his eyes at Steve, suspicious, "Jonathan?"

"Yeah. Jonathan," Steve says in his bitchiest voice. "Number, dude."

He can tell Dustin doesn't fully believe the lie, but he recites the number anyway.

"Thanks," Steve says as he scoots around Robin and heads to Keith's office to use the phone there. The first thing he does is call the police station and let them know that he saw Eddie Munson at Rick Lipton's place, up by Lover's Lake on Holland Road. The lady who answered starts to ask questions, Steve just says he recognized the trailer on TV as the Munson's and hangs up. He'll swing by later once everyone else has pieced together the Rick Lipton part of this all themselves. If Eddie's still there, he'll drag him to the station himself.

'Cause the thing is, Steve has thought of many scenarios. So many. And even if nothing else changes, this is the bit that will. Eddie cannot be killed in the Upside Down if he is in a jail cell instead. And if the police do follow up on his tip, then they'll take Eddie in for questioning before Fred dies. And that's.

Well.

Steve's living through the end of the world and that changes people. It's changed Steve. Once there would have been a time when allowing someone to die, knowing it was going to happen and not stopping it, would have filled Steve with guilt, regret, maybe even some self-loathing. But Steve's made enough sacrifices for this town. Lost enough of the people he loves to be jaded. Maybe even cruel. If Fred has to die to prove that Eddie didn't do it, then that's what will happen.

His next step is to call the Byers. It surprises him that Joyce actually answers with a hesitant hello. That never happens in the dreams.

"Joyce. I mean, Ms. Byers. It's Steve. Uhh, Steve Harrington," he says.

"Oh. Hello Steve. What, uh, what can I do for you?" Joyce's voice is still hesitant.

"Listen, the Upside Down is back. Or, like, it was never gone? I don't know. But I needed to tell you."

"Oh my God," Joyce sounds horrified, and Steve can hear Murray in the background asking questions. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Vec- sorry, it has already killed a girl. Max was a witness. Well, of the aftermath. But that's not important. What I need is for you to tell El that she's never been a monster and never will be. That everything has been the fault of One. And I think you should tell her Hopper is alive and you're going to rescue him."

There's not an immediate answer. A rustling sound and then faint voices he can't make out. She must be covering the phone with her hand as she and Murray talk. Or argue, knowing Murray. After a moment, Murray's voice comes through the line, "How do we know you are who you say you are?"

It's followed by Joyce shouting, "How do you know about Hopper?" and Murray quickly shushing her and some shuffling noises before Joyce says, "Okay. We're both listening."

"Look, I know you have no reason to believe me so I'll give you something that might serve as proof that I know things I shouldn't. When everyone gets back from the roller rink, be there for El. She's going to- to have a bad night, because of a girl that's been, like, bullying her at school. Then, I need you to get them headed this way tomorrow morning, because you gotta be gone then, too, but like. Be there for El tonight. There will be an incident involving a roller skate. So, if you believe me, call me back after that."

"How do we know you're who you claim to be, Steve?" Murray questions again, while Joyce says, horrified, "El's been being bullied?"

"I can't exactly prove I'm me. But call my house tonight after you've spoken to El and I'll answer. That's the best I can do. I... I don't know if Jonathan or Mike have my number, but Mike can call home and get my number from Nancy. That'll be proof, right? Or Will can get it from Dustin. Whichever."

"And how do you know about something happening tonight at the roller rink?" Joyce demands.

"I know more than I should. So, if the roller rink thing holds up, and you decide to at least hear me all the way out, call my house," Steve hangs up then, not wanting to get into a loop of explanation.

"Steve! Hurry up and come help people while I help Thing One and Thing Two!" Robin calls through the door and Steve takes a step towards the closed door to comply but he stops, hand hanging just above the doorknob. That's how the dream goes. That's what 19-year-old Steve would have done.

But that's a Steve that died five years ago, when the world ended, when the apocalypse started. Steve's not 19 anymore, though he must look it, a master of his own puppet. He's never sought himself out in a mirror when he dreams; he's too busy taking in everyone who has been lost to him in his waking life to bother with himself.

What does he want to do this time?

What does he want to do right now?

He leaves Keith's office to beeline to Dustin, pausing only to pat Robin on the shoulder. He slides around Max and comes to a stop beside Dustin.

"I already told you, I need this for-" Dustin starts to speak but cuts off with a squawk that sounds like a mixture of indignation and confusion as Steve just reaching out and bodily turns Dustin towards him. "Steve, this is important!"

"I know," Steve says and then hugs Dustin. Dustin doesn't hug back, but neither does he pull away. Steve knows he's missed Dustin, felt his loss for many years now, but holding Dustin now, feeling him solid and here feels Steve what he can only equate to grief.

Dustin lets himself be hugged for what is, undoubtedly, an awkward amount of time for him before he thumps Steve's back twice and says, "okay... You can stop now."

Steve lets go and turns to Max, who immediately puts her hands up, "No. Absolutely not."

He chuckles and steps around her. He won't force his affection on her.

Then he takes off the family video vest and sets it on the counter.

"Steve?" Robin asks.

"Sorry, Robs, I can't stay and help customers. I have some things I got to do."

"Steve, you cannot abandon me on a Saturday!"

He can't quite bring himself to feel bad for abandoning her. It is a shit thing to do but right now saving Eddie and Max from Vecna is more important. He's already wasting daylight, so instead of answering his gives her his best 'I'm so sorry' face and bolts out the door. All three of them shout after him but he doesn't slow.

He's got a list of regrets to change.

Tagging the besties and all the people that expressed interest when I posted the lil blurb about this. Sorry if I missed you!

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @music9009 @apomaro-mellow @soaringornithopter @reighnofdreams @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @sirsnacksalot @livelifeliketheresnotomorow @sageclipse @schnukiputz @mbloggotdeletedsothisismybackup @lumoschildextra @vampirestevie @alex-axolotl @juleswashere3 @yet-still-more-banched

#steddie #my fic #it's a late birthday fic to myself #not at light-hearted as I wanted #but I'm in a less light-hearted place now than when I first wanted to write this. So my mood has changed the story a bit

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