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way-of-love · 11 months

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Oops - (ONESHOT) (Miguel O’Hara x FEMReader) (18+ ONLY) (R- RATED)(SPOILERS)

Well, guess Miguel must really like mouths and you just enjoy giving it to him!

WARNINGS: Forced Oral; bondage; hate x love; sadist; threat of using… ALL holes; biting; smut; spit; bubbly spit; juices (: ; GWAK GWAK 3000

This couldn’t go on for much longer could it? He had to get tired at some point right? No man should have such strength or even stamina to keep this up for so long. Yet you always forget he’s not like any man. You lost track of time in this room, wherever this room was.

Tired and overly-sensitive, you bit your lip hard stoping the whimper coming out when you felt the tip of a talon pressing against the very tip of your overly rubbed clit. Your legs quivered and your body jerked from the contact. Torture is what it was yet it felt euphoric.

You were bound to a chair with thick glowing red webs bitting into your sweaty flesh keeping your legs tied, spread and your arms bound behind the chair. It didn’t hurt but it was uncomfortable to stay like this for hours. You weren’t sure how much you could withstand before eventually passing out.

“Enough! Miguel please!” You finally groaned out desperately tossing your head back.

Miguel stood in the darkness of the room, a sole light illuminating you were you sat and he hid his face within the shadows where his bloody red eyes glowed. And those eyes took in your sorry state with a dark satisfaction. And that satisfaction of his left you vulnerable, naked and bare for his dark devices.

He made you into this mess of a woman because he realized this was the best way to shut you up.

Yelling, scolding, trying to go over his authority when he already gave you a direct order. Yet, you betray him with your…free will.

“Look at you, que porquería.” He speaks quietly, cold with mock sweetness.

Miguel may have been close enough to touch you but you still couldn’t see his face. Clearly he was angry no, furious.

“Miguel… I know you’re angry but you don’t have to go—“ Your eyes widen and a shriek left your bruised lips when you felt him pinch your poor rose bud between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it like a small little bead.

He growled in annoyance bracing a hand on the back of the flimsy chair you were tied to shaking it a bit as he leaned over your face. His brows here angled and furrowed, his eyes lacked that usual sarcastic dull shine. Now they were brimming with a fiery anger that seemed to light them up.

“You! Have pissed me off for the last fucking TIME Y/N.” He sneered down at you, seething in anger as he continued to roll your clit between your forced parted thighs. Your eyes squeezed shut as a breathy moan left you.

You’ve both been at this for hours, and he still hasn’t eased off of you. All because you befriended and defended that kid, Miles. Out of everyone who was there you called Miguel out on his hypocrisy. Putting all the blame from the collider incident on that poor teen all while calling him an anomaly. Yet, he never considered that the only anomaly was that Spot guy.

It turned into a whole argument, things being thrown at one another before he used his superhuman abilities against you forcing you into this room, stripped naked and tied. Of course you fought and bit but he was superior in strength. You were just human with a very big brain.

“I…I get it… but please,” You licked your lips,” Talk. Let’s talk please?” Your voice was hoarse, shaky and breathless.

You’ve begged him to stop countless of times before and each time he dismissed your pleas with the wave of your hand doing as he liked to punish you for your insubordination.

Yet, while you looked so pathetic naked and tied to the chair with with his webs bitting into your plush skin he realized he should have done this much, much sooner. Seeing you unable to move struggling to be freed from his webs stroked a fire within him.

Grabbing your cheeks with the hand he had behind your chair, he squeezes them until your lips are perked, and he looks down at them sneering,” Talk? I’m done talking to you.”

He then smirks and you see a small spark of emotion in his angry red eyes, a hint of lust. He gets closer and brushes his lips against your perked ones, “ Siempre estás hablando.(T:You’re always talking) You’re very lucky I don’t tear these lips of yours off with my teeth.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his threat feeling both excitement and arousal spiking slightly. If anyone else was on the receiving end of that threat they’d think he was being serious but you, God, you knew he was bluffing. Those fangs of his were solely for show.

He let your face go instantly making your head swing a bit to the side. Your cheeks hurt where he grabbed and squeezed you.

“Guess…a sorry is in order,” You mumbled with a hint of annoyance.

You look down glancing at your self. Sweaty quivering thighs forced apart and held apart by those glowing webs of his. And a pool of, no doubt, your juices he managed to get out of you dripping over the edge of the chair. This was embarrassing. Humiliating even. Only if you were caught you’d feel humiliated.

If Miles, Gwen or even Hobie saw how pathetic you looked in the hands of Miguel they’d no doubt take pity but you didn’t want that. You were enduring this for their sake.

Were you really? For their sake?

Even if it was for their sake… you still found yourself yearning for more of this…punishment he was bringing down on you.

“ ‘Sorry’ isn’t good enough Y/N. ‘Sorry’ is for when you step on someone’s foot.” He exclaimed coldly while he walked behind you. “This goes beyond sorry. Years beyond a simple apology.”

Raising your head you stared off into the darkness of the room of the room sensing his warmth behind you. His own cool scent of fresh mint, amrboxan amber and cedar wood. The intoxicating concoction of both his smell and sweat were driving you crazy stirring your insides like an aphrodisiac.

Your mind was going in the worst of directions the more you filled your lungs with that smell. All these ‘what if’s’ and scenarios of him and you with sweaty bodies meshed together in unison like a symphony.

Miguel always played you until you were at the peak of your performance. But you knew there could be more, there is more!

You sighed out a response,”Then I take it back, I’m not sorry.”

Defiance is considered open resistance or bold disobedience and it was something Miguel could never let slide. He hated when things didn’t go his way or when people never followed their written roles. And as of right now you weren’t following his regiment.

You could hear his deep sigh of disapproval, his breath falling over the top of your head. His bare hand sliding over your jaw cups your chin and forces your head back roughly. It makes you groan and wince from the force.

Miguel leans in lips brushing against your ear, “Tempting me is a dangerous game, you know that right?”

You roll your eyes as he let you go suddenly. Was he done? Was he satisfied with this punishment? Rolling your head a bit you felt his warmth disappear for a moment but he suddenly came back and your chair was tilted back making you squeal out in surprise.

The control freak tilted your chair back enough where your toes or the chairs front legs weren’t touching the ground. He tilted you back enough so you were crotch height and the top of your head had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting what he truly was hiding behind his blue suit.

“Oops,” He mumbled starring down at you with that unimpressed expression of his. You narrowed your eyes at him. Miguel felt no shame about what he planned on doing next or rather he wouldn’t be feeling bad about it. His thumb hooked around the frontal part of his suit waistband and began to tug it down. Now you began to resist some more when you realized just what he planned on doing.

“M-miguel… you can’t be serious—“ Sucking someone off was not new to you but sucking them off being held upside down like this would definitely be a first.

“Relax. I’m holding the chair,” And to confirm it for you he shook the chair where he held it making you jiggle a bit, “and besides, I think this is the best way to shut you up.”

You and Miguel have never had intercourse or even fooled around before these ‘punishments’ of his began. Was he really doing this to punish you or could he not hold in his own desire anymore? Whichever it was you watched him tug the rest of his suit down revealing himself.

It was long, thick and strong. God he was hard already as if he was waiting for this very moment; his balls heavy, swollen looking hung right above your forehead. You felt your wet cunt throb at the sight. Veins popped up on his pelvis just as thick veins decorated his cock, a very thick one was obviously noticeable on his underside and so was a thick one on his side.

While you gawked at his rod that shadowed over your face he smirked satisfied.

“You have such a big bold mouth. Let’s hope it’s big enough for this,” His voice came out thick and heavy with lust.

Looking up at him fully you licked your swollen lips, “ Then say please,” You looked back at his cock that hovered right above your face.

Miguel tilted his head as he reached for your face, the back of his gloved hand brushing against your cheek before he ran that thumb if his across your upside down swollen lips. By the looks of it, it was going to be a pretty tight fit.

“Say please,” He scoffs slowly sliding his thumb into your mouth. It slid around your bottom teeth feeling up each tooth, rubbing against your gums spreading and smearing your spit to your top teeth.

“Por favor? Déjame usar tu boca.”His voice came out in almost a whisper as he continued to play with your teeth and spit. (T: Please? Let me use your mouth.)

You had no idea what he was doing but hearing him say please in his mother tongue caused you to melt and nod your head without a second thought.

Slowly his thumb came and hooked itself onto your inner cheek pulling the corner of your mouth wider. He scooted forward and the very tip of his bare cock lightly pressing against your upper lip, it couldn’t enter properly because your mouth wasn’t completely wide open.

“Cmon, don’t play with me Y/N” He mumbled quietly in annoyance yet when you looked at him he looked nothing close to annoyed. The poor man looked restless, restrained even. His thumb finally slipped away and went back to caressing your bottom lip.

Oh, so he wanted this just as badly. You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of him wanting you and you denying him. Unfortunately, tonight wasn’t the night to deny him flat out. Instead you giggled against his tip.

“Mmmm, what if I bit it?” You looked up at him with a teasing glint in your eye.

He closed his red eyes briefly as if taking a moment to register the many outcomes of you taking a bite out of his cock before opening them staring right at you with his cold glare, “I’ll keep fucking your throat until you choke on both my cock and blood. Then I’ll fuck your other two holes, actually,” The corner of his lip lifted slightly as he looked out toward the bottom half of your naked tied body.

Your smile fell when he glanced right back at you with a heated, toothy mean grin, “All three of your holes, I will fuck until you cry. And even then I won’t stop until I’m satisfied.”

You shouldn’t have believed him. Because it wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be possible… after all three holes? Your mouth which was about to be occupied; your pussy which would happily accept him; your ass which may need some getting used to but it was most than willing. Your third hole… was he referring to…that hole?

It should have disgusted you but for some reason, your body hummed at the thought of him exploiting every inch of you.

“You promise?” Breathless.

“Siempre.”

Your mouth opened and your tongue slid right out, he groaned out and made no hesitation to cradle the back of your neck while slipping his length right into the depths of your wet, hot mouth.

Salty.

Hot.

Hard.

Those were the words you’d describe the feeling of his cock finally sheathing itself into your mouth and his sack falling lightly over your forehead. If you weren’t still tied up you’d more than likely would grip the back of his thighs and force him more into your mouth. But he was in control.

Miguel gripped the chair tighter as he held it still and gingerly held the back of your neck at an angle to force more of his girth into your tight mouth. Right now your lips were already stretching and taking him in very well much to his surprise.

As soon as he felt that resistance he stopped pushing watching you carefully. You weren’t gagging, yet. That wasn’t a good sign. This was a punishment after all, it wouldn’t be fun if he was careful with you. Licking his lips he released a breath.

“You’re not gonna like what I’m about to do,” His thumb lightly ram over the base of your throat.

Your eyes opened and your brows furrowed in confusion. What did ge mean? Tied to a chair with his webs, tilted back and forced to give him a blow job wasn’t all he planned on doing?

Before you could mumble or indicate to him you wanted to speak he let go of the chair only to quickly use that hand to join the other in cupping the back of your neck. The chair tilted further back and you instinctively squeezed your eyes shut, and your mouth tightened a bit around his cock. You thought you were going to fall to the ground and hurt your arms that were tied behind the chair but much to your surprise you did.

Opening your eyes against you peeked or tried to, to see Miguel but instead of seeing his concentrating face you saw his head tilted back and his chest rising and falling a bit quickly.

Miguel groaned out while letting the sweet sensation of your throat suddenly close around what little was in there around him. And your teeth, you bit lightly into him but it felt so… good. Tilting his head back down at you, you saw just how aroused he was.

This man wasn’t even half way down your throat and he already was ready to burst, “You’re… bitting. Bueno. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,”

Oh, you felt a shiver run through you. His voice was dark, breathless and filled with arousal. You’d never heard nor seen him like this in the past.

Suddenly his thumbs cradled the sides of your delicate neck, they only gentleness he’ll show you. His stance changed with legs spread further apart and the distance between your head and his groin grew a bit. You fisted your hands and shut your eyes bracing for impact.

When it came you squealed around him, well tried to. It sounded like you were drowning. His hips came in and out like a piston, forcing the entirety of his long cock down to the back of your throat. You tried to move your head but with his hands holding your neck your movements were limited.

Your body squirmed and jerked as he used your mouth with no concern for your safety. Balls slapping against your nose with each thrust of his hips.

It was maddening. He was going wild.

Furthermore, he was enjoying himself. His expression you could not see but you could hear his groans and hisses through the squelching, ball slapping. It sounded like music to your ears. He was in pleasure after all these years torturing you he was also torturing himself which lead to him finally snapping at you.

All these years and he had to withhold all of these emotions, these trivial feelings that made him want to jump at you every time you opened your mouth and defied him. The first time it happened, he didn’t take pleasure in it. He tested the waters and each and every time you spoke out the ‘punishment’ was more sever each time.

Alas, today was the day of reckoning for him. As much as he gave you, he’ll take back. He’ll rid himself of this silly attraction, this obstacle and shut you up for good. That way you won’t mess with his emotions, his plans, his life.

Groaning he felt you gag around his cock finally. And it made him slow down just to hear you struggle to take him in. Yes, just like this he’ll shut you right up.

Miguel hissed lowly, “ That’s it,” He looked down at where his cock was connected to you seeing the bubbly saliva wrapping around his thick length and your mouth.

“Remember this Y/N. Every time you open your mouth to say anything against me, remember this feeling of you choking on my cock like a virgin,” He spat down you feeling elated.

And you, with bubbly spit falling down your cheeks felt a hunger you’ve never felt before. Your cunt weeped for touch, throbbed to squeeze something that could stretch it but instead all it received was the ghost of him.

You had his fingers knuckle deep driving you towards orgasm after orgasm, taunting you every time you came. He was wicked. Telling you this would only get worse each time she defied him. But for some reason your body moved on its own as if…as if it was calling to him.

With lack of air you tried to fight him, struggle to get at least an ounce of air but your struggle was futile. Eventually he gave you a break suddenly slowing down and coming to a complete stop.

He was breathing heavily above you as he remained still keeping himself balls deep inside your saliva coated mouth. Slowly, he pulled back dragging his sloppy cock out of your mouth.

Once he was out you took in a loud gasp of air coughing a bit as he took a hand back to grip the chair and kept it tilted.

“You…will never go…against my word again. Understand?” He was panting and his cock was visibly throbbing coated in your spit. Miguel was holding back and you weren’t sure why but you weren’t about to find out.

You opened your mouth wide and kept your tongue out as an open invitation for him to continue, to release all of his frustrations onto you or rather in you. His hold tightened on the chair and the back of your neck seeing you willingly wanting to pleasure him.

“Mierda.”(T: Fuck.)

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So I made an AI based off this fic so let me know what you think and please let me know if it’s buggy!

#wayoflove #x reader #smut #fem reader #miguel ohara xreader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #miguel o'hara #chair #fangs #hissing #Miguel ohara #darkroom #oscar issac

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amywritesthings · 18 days

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Hi babe! Congrats for one year of Silver Underground! 🎶

I was wondering if you could write a little Drabble or one shot of James and Levi in the early days of their relationship. Maybe it’s still a secret from Isabelle and Farlan, and they almost get caught…you know…😏

Love you, Bestie!!😘

hello, my dearest Sailor! Your wish is my command. xo

down bad. / levi ackerman x f!reader

word count: 1.3k summary: you and levi secretly make out before furlan/isabel get home. that's it, that's the horny plot. tags: 18+ minors dni! pre-aot timeline, heavy petting, making out, dry humping, mentions of sex, secret relationship, interruptions, set in the silver underground universe credit: @saradika-graphics for dividers

“Huh.”

You hear Levi’s voice echo from the living room as you climb the stairs to your apartment.

The anticipation of a shower after making deals with some of the cretins of the Underground has kept your tired feet propelling forward, onward, until they come to a stop at the mouth of the door.

One after the other, you kick your boots off beside Levi’s discarded pair to pad gently across the wooden floorboards in dark socks.

He reappears from his bedroom with a furrowed expression, brow holding his apprehension.

“They’re not home.”

He points a thumb behind his shoulder.

The silence corroborates his findings.

By now, Isabel would have launched herself from your shared bedroom proclaiming sorrow without the two of you around. Furlan barely ever left the living room, and there are only so many places he could go in such a cramped space.

As you drag the apartment’s front door closed and locked, you wipe your hands off on your trousers.

“Where could they be?” you inquire. “I thought they were supposed to meet with that one asshole tomorrow.”

“They are. Maybe they went shopping for food,” he suggests, rolling up his white sleeves to the point of his elbow on the right arm. “Furlan owes you anyway.”

“It was one stolen leftover, Levi.”

“Still owes you,” he chides, fixing up his left arm’s sleeves after. “Doesn’t matter.”

Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest and stand in the silence.

No one talks.

Someone should, but —

You’re still not used to this — balancing what the hell it means to be James, the friend, and the James that kisses Levi in the shadows.

It’s only been a few times.

A lie — under fifty isn’t a few.

Maybe a hundred, if stolen pecks in passing when you both know the risks qualifies.

At this point, you’ve lost count how many times the two of you have made out. And losing count means that the two of you are prone for mistakes.

(A lack of judgment, if you will.)

Because as soon as it hits — no one’s home — eyes of twin curiosity connect across the room.

At the same moment, at the exact same time, an idea passes telepathically. An argument.

We shouldn’t.

We never tried in the house.

We always—

Too late.

He propels towards you with the urgency of losing you and your feet slide against the floorboards with urgency.

Your head tilts and he follows suits, and without an ounce of real thought, his lips claim yours.

Levi’s hands are already trying to open up your shirt, unbuttoning with certainty a starving man wouldn’t have.

You aren’t as controlled — your hands fumble with his vest, angry at the little notches for giving you a problem. “Don’t worry about me,” he mumbles against your mouth, his tongue experimentally poking out to flicker against your lower lip.

“But—”

He abandons your lips and kisses the tiny gemstone on your sternum to make you gasp; a sign of worship, leaving an offering to an altar he created.

Obediently your head drops back, too focused on the heat traveling up your collarbone to your neck.

His lips are always so careful, as if somehow if he presses too hard he’ll bruise you.

It doesn’t matter how many times your hands grip at your hips.

It doesn’t matter how many times he backs you into a wall—

Or in this case, a table.

Your hips hit the kitchenette table, faltering your stance. His strong hands find purchase on the plush of your thighs.

“Fall back.”

You pull away from the kiss to finally survey those blue-gray eyes, stormy and benevolent all the same.

Both of your chests heave, though yours is half-revealed and there’s a pink hue of a blush crawling across his cheeks to his ears.

“Wait, what?” you ask him in a huff.

He nods once, lifting your legs only a little for emphasis. “You’re not gonna break it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m— there are about a dozen other things I’m worried about,” you shout in a whisper. “I don't give a fuck about the integrity of the table."

"Good," he decides, and leans back in for a kiss.

Your hand blocks his lips from finding yours.

"I wasn't done talking," you say. "The other dozen things, Levi, like when are they going to get—”

“I don’t care,” he rasps, too far gone. “We’ll hear the lock.”

“Will we?”

“Yeah.”

“And if we don’t—”

“I’m covering you.”

“Barely.”

“Enough.”

“But the table—”

"So you do care about the table?"

"Well, no, but if it—"

“Fuck the table, James,” he groans, so unlike him that the arousal shoots to your core.

Timid in the moment, you scoot your rear end to the table’s edge and fall back. His arm catches your back to ease you down, but not without kissing down your throat again to pull a short cry from your lips.

His other hand pulls your thigh with him so he can slot his hips between yours, and you both lose your breath at the heated connection of his hips to yours.

You haven’t gotten that far yet, but you damn well wish you could.

His head lifts from your neck so he can stare at your eyes, stalling for content, as the hand on your thigh lifts it.

There’s nothing hotter than your knee caging in his hip, and his hand keeping it there. Nothing.

“You’re wasting time,” you growl in return, dragging him in from the white collar of his shirt.

He grunts in appreciation and hovers over you, pleased with himself now that you’re virtually beneath him.

His lips find yours, chin tilting to deepen the action.

Your moan vibrates against his mouth, causing his hand on your thigh to clench the flesh.

You want everything.

In that moment, you realize you’ll do just about anything if it means you get to have him.

Late night trysts, early morning sparring kisses, midday dry humps—

The best kept secret of your entire life.

His hips experimentally roll against yours, and you both moan — probably louder than you ought to. It doesn’t matter, because it spurs him to try it again. Again, again—

And when your hand boldly reaches for his belt, something clicks.

Not in your brain, but at the door.

Trained ears force Levi off of your body, lips and cheeks equal parts reddened.

He whips his attention to the door, fixing his clothes and clearing his breath.

“Calm it with that key, would you?” he calls, voice a little more gruff than before.

He strides across the room, buying you time to fly off of the table and re-button your shirt in your own bedroom.

When you catch your eye, he mouths sorry — but the shit-eating smirk on his face tells you otherwise.

“We’re trying!” Isabel. Shit. You know that whine anywhere.

Levi’s palm slams against the door frame from the other side. “Give me a sec, I’ll open it.”

“Why?” Furlan. He sounds perplexed more than anything. “I almost had the door—”

“You’re gonna break it,” Levi flatly tells him, before finally opening the door.

When you ‘enter’ the room, Furlan and Isabel pour into the apartment with their arms full of bags and nearly-fresh produce. You yawn, padding barefoot.

“Sorry, took a nap,” you lie, stretching your limbs overhead. “Where were you two again?”

“Shopping!”

They chirp in unison, heading straight for the kitchen.

Your eyes meet Levi’s once more while you rearrange the chain of your necklace.

That smirk hasn’t left his face, even in the face of your friends.

All you respond with is a middle finger, rubbing against your nose.

One of these days—

Narrowly missed today, maybe, but one of these days they’re going to find out.

(And maybe one day it won’t be such a secret.)

#snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #attack on titan fanfiction #aot drabbles #snk drabbles #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman smut

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hxjikonn · 1 year

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“I’ll try not to starve myself, just because you’re mad at me”

Try to listen to the song while reading if you rlly wanna sob (just drink water after♥︎)

Characters: Jamil Viper and Vil Schoenheit x Fem!Reader (separate)

Synopsis: Their reaction to Fem!Reader who doesn’t eat whenever she upsets or makes them mad.

WARNINGS: !!EATING DISORDER IS HEAVILY IMPLIED!! (Vommiting, self punishment etc.) PLEASE DONT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THIS TOPIC!! thank you and ilysm.

Jamil Viper

You hated this, you never liked fighting with him, you despised having to yell just because you both think you’d hear each other clearer that way, trying to get points across, when it’s obvious that both of you can hear each other quite well but either of you would want to listen.

How can an argument spark in as simple as a question…you just wanted to ask if he wanted space, ‘cuz you’ve noticed that he’s grown irritated recently due to juggling his responsibilities with Kalim, School and his responsibilities to you. A simple question, how did it get to this?

Misunderstandings have been made, he thought you were upset because he’s spending less time with you as usual hence you asking the question, and you thought he wanted more than just space due to his reaction to your question…tears of frustration slid down your face as you didn’t know what he wanted from you, and he didn’t know what you wanted from him.

Both your throats were hurting, but neither of you wanted to back down, both of you were in fear of losing the other, but both of you wanted to win the argument too. Hurtful venomous words have been exchanged, and limits were tested, “JAMIL WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO??! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!!! WHY AM I HERE??!” You ask question after question, shouting at him. He mumbles curses under his breath before turning to face you.

“I DONT KNOW WHY YOU’RE STILL HERE! YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I WANT SO BADLY??? I WANT YOU TO LEAVE!! LEAVE Y/N!! I DONT WANT ANYTHING FROM YOU!!” He yells back louder than before, anger was fueling his lies, you flinched, you’ve never seen him like this…it scared you.

“okay…” you nodded, at least you didn’t have to second guess anymore. He told you what he wanted, it’s cleared up now… the argument is over, you left without another word, and he didn’t even bother sparing you another glance as you walked out the door. You went home, you took a long cold shower, and when you got out the feeling of numbness hit you.

This was fine, you thought you wouldn’t shed another tear about this situation. You were wrong to say the least, as the numbness soon wore off, and you’re eyes cried rivers and rivers of tears trailing down, pooling beneath your chin and soaking you sleeves as you used them to wipe it off.

The sun sets, you were still in your room, under the sheets, sobbing quieter this time as you’ve grown tired already. Grim knocked before poking his head in and calling you for dinner, he called Ace and Deuce earlier for advice and they said that food was the best comfort he could provide you right now.

You were hungry, but you declined. Grim nods and left the room, promising to leave you some in the fridge to heat up if you get your appetite back. This wasn’t a new thing for you, it was an old habit, a bad one. You did this as a form of self punishment, whenever you feel like you’ve done something wrong, you’ve disappointed someone…or made someone hate you.

All that you could hear for the rest of the night apart from the growls of your stomach was Jamil’s shouting from the argument earlier. It was on loop, every single word that left his mouth, it felt like daggers. Painful, so was your stomach but you thought to yourself that you deserved this. If you hadn’t asked, there wouldn’t be a fight, it’s your fault that you lost him.

Minutes turned into hours, Hours into days, you went to school and pretend like you weren’t in emotional pain from the incident with your lover and ignored the physical pain from you skipping meals, it was torture, but every time, there was a voice in the back of your head that tells you, you deserve this pain.

You felt it creeping up on you, the torment of hunger, you spaced out alot trying to suppress the amount of discomfort your feeling right now, Before Ace and Deuce had noticed, you excused yourself and ran early to your next class. You felt faint but you shook it off…

Meanwhile Kalim had a talk with Jamil about the falling-out that happened between the two of you in the dormitory a few days ago, it wasn’t his business to try and resolve this as it was Jamil’s relationship, however it is his responsibility as a dorm leader and as Jamil’s friend.

Though Jamil made it seem like he wasn’t listening to Kalim’s advice at all, pretending to read a textbook while his friend talked, but it had made sense to him. He didn’t want to admit it until Kalim asked “Do you really want to lose her because of a simple misunderstanding?” He sighed, of course he didn’t. That was why he reacted so angrily to your question in the first place…because he was afraid you’ve grown tired of him

“No…” he mumbled, while reading the same paragraph over and over again for the past 30 minutes now. “Jamil, you usually are the one who tells me to go apologize when I unintentionally offend people with my words, but I’m gonna be the one to tell you that” Kalim stood up from his seat.

“Go make up with Y/n…” he gives his friend a pat on the shoulder and a smile. Jamil looked up at him and puts his textbook down in defeat “Alright…fine.” This childish dispute has go on for too long anyway, and it wasn’t like him to be childish. “I’ll go find her…but Kalim I swear to the great 7, if you—“ Kalim cuts him off with a shushing motion.

“I WONT GET IN TROUBLEEEE NOW GO FIND YOUR GIRLFRIEND!” He pushed Jamil, without a choice, Jamil walks out the door and goes to find you… Unbeknownst to him, you were nearing your breaking point….

You had a class with Vargas, possibly in the worst time too, you were pale, you couldn’t catch your breath as much, you’re knees shook even though you just had finished half a lap, “Y/n you don’t look so good, you wanna take a break?” Epel asks, worried about your condition…you shook your head “I’m fine, today’s just not my day” you brushed it off with a smile.

Epel could only nod, he wanted to pry further but Vargas already blowed on his whistle, “Just take it slow okay?” He reminds you before starting to run another lap…you couldn’t even hear him properly, you’re vision was blurry and spinning, it only took you a few before you collapsed in the ground below you. Passing out…

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jamil asks Ace and Deuce, he’s been looking for you everywhere, “She ran off earlier in a hurry” Ace shrugged, “yeah, but I think she has a class with Vargas right now, try the field, they’re probably doing track runs” Deuce suggested “Thanks” Jamil nodded and waved the two goodbye.

He got to the field, and saw your classmates, but no sign of you…so he asks one of them, what they said made him feel a chill run down his spine. “She’s in the infirmary…she passed out earlier, took a really bad fall too” that was enough to send him sprinting to where you were…

So many things were running through his head, what happened? were you sick? were you hurt? are you okay? It’s only been a few days that he hasn’t checked up on you, now you were in the infirmary… when he got there, he wanted to slam the door open but someone beat him to it.

The door swung open infront of him, it was Epel, “Woah are you okay??? You look like you’re gonna pass out too..” Epel asked, concerned about Jamil’s panting state. “Where’s Y/n….?” He asks out of breath. Epel pointed at a bed behind closed curtains “She’s getting treated, apparently she hasn’t been eating for days now…no wonder she looked weak..” he says, sadness lingering in his voice.

“They said she took a fall…is she okay?” He asked “Yeah it’s not that bad, just a scrape on her forehead” Epel said trying to ease his senior, Jamil felt something pinch his heart, you hadn’t been eating? Was it because of him? Why would you do that to yourself? Epel pardons himself and Jamil only nods, entering the infirmary quietly…waiting for the school nurse to finish treating you. He was anxious, wanted to know if you were okay…

When the nurse finished, he stood up and asked immediately, they said you were going to be okay, and that you just needed to eat something when you wake up, he says his thanks and stepped inside the booth, closing the curtains behind him.

When he turned to look at you, you did look frail, already thinner infact, he’s grown weak himself seeing you like this, he took as seat beside you and held your hand tightly in his. There’s nothing he would want more than for you to open your eyes right now so he can apologize…

After what felt like hours, you finally awoken, finding Jamil gently caressing your head, you thought you were dreaming, tearful you looked up at him “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to make you mad at me…” you said, voice meek and quiet. Slowly your tears slid and that was enough for him to break as well.

He puts his forehead on top of yours “I’m not mad…” he whispers, “I was just scared you were going to leave me…” he adds “I’m sorry too…” he sats you up gently so he could embrace you, and softly you hugged him back. “What happened? Why weren’t you eating??” He asks, worriedly.

You were scared of telling him, but he assures you that he wouldn’t be mad at you. You explained to him that this was a bad habit of yours, where you refuse to feed yourself because it was a punishment. If he could strangle himself he would’ve, you went through all this because of him..

In the verge of sobbing, he made you promise to never do this ever again, and when you did he peppered you with kisses, small I’m sorry’s and repeated reminders of how much he loves you. Once you’ve both recovered from shedding tears, he went out to go get you food.

Unfortunately as much as he wanted to cook for you right now, you both were still at school, so he could only get you cafeteria food. Though he did make sure to get you food you liked, and he kept an eye on you while you ate, reminding you to finish all of it.

He wouldn’t push you if you said you were full, but would set it aside to feed it to you later, he wanted you to regain back your energy as soon as possible, he doesn’t want you to get badly ill… he’d tell you to back to sleep, and with a little pleading you managed to convince him to get in bed with you so you could fall asleep under his warmth…

Safe to say that you were getting home cooked meals from him on a daily basis from here on out. He’ll always eat with you too, he doesn’t want you to go through this again so he’ll ensure that you never skip your meals.

Vil Schoenheit

Brutal beauty standards was one of the waving flags when you started to date the famous Vil Schoenheit, you knew that once you started walking by his side, more people would take you apart and nitpick everything about you. But you knew what they really wanted to see, looks.

They wouldn’t give a shit about your personality long as you were pretty, pretty enough to be Vil’s lover. Eye candy was what satisfies the spectators. Unfortunately you knew for a fact that you aren’t even close to being as pretty as Vil…he was described to be something out of a painting for God’s sake.

A personified representation of beauty, elegance and grandeur, He’s also been known to nitpick people who he has with him, he did it to Epel, you were no exception. Though sometimes you wish he wasn’t as harsh as he is, if it were just his fans or other irrelevant people you wouldn’t even pay any mind to their comments.

But when it came from him…it felt a lot heavier. You didn’t want to think badly of him, after all his only intentions were ‘whats best for you’ all he wanted was to make you shine like the gem you are. That wasn’t what it felt like though… “Vil! Look at this cute shirt I bought!” You proudly pranced toward him showing him your shirt that you were planning to wear in your date, you liked it a lot, you think it makes you look nice.

He glanced up and down at you and rolled his eyes, you’re smile slowly fades seeing how he reacted. “Potato…that shirt looks hideous, what did you see in that? It’s not even flattering on your body! Rook fetch her a change of clothes…I cant have you wearing that while you’re with me.” ick lingered in his tone as he waves off in disgust. You were ashamed…

As Rook went to go get you new clothes, you tried your best to cover your shirt with your arms, hugging yourself trying not to embarrass Vil, you looked at him as he reapplied his lipstick…he was gorgeous, it’s both a blessing and a curse to call him yours. Did you really deserve someone as perfect looking as him?

When Rook brought a new sets of clothes for you to wear, Vil skimmed through them one by one and hand picked each piece for you to change into. You took everything and when you refashioned your outfit with what he picked out, you saw his face light up with satisfaction…maybe it was just because you were inlove with him, but whenever he’d be satisfied with you, it always made you happy.

“There we go, look at you! You look breathtaking, now shall we go pretty?” He asked, his tone was now much affectionate and gentle, he did a complete 180 all because of a shirt…you smiled at him and nodded. All that matters now is that he wasn’t upset with you. He held your hand in his, proudly walking side by side with you. It felt nice…

You two went to eat, and you were really hungry, as the waiter approaches you two to ask for your order, Vil only ordered a salad and wine, like he always does. You however wanted something heavier so you told the waiter all the things you wanted, you weren’t shy about it, ‘cuz you both agreed you’d pay this time because he paid last time, you never wanted to be spoiled rotten by your famous boyfriend.

When he heard you say all those things out loud, he took a sip of his water, wanting to save his image as he felt like eyes were already on him. You turned back to face him, and yet again, he had this disgusted, disappointed look on his face…you were confused, were you talking too loud? Were you slouching?

“What’s wrong?” You asked, quietly. He sighed and took another sip of water in his glass, “I hope you don’t plan on eating all of that…” he said, monotone, but his voice lingered with annoyance. “Well…I am hungry… Plus this is a dinner date…” you reasoned, you were starting to feel really pressured. “Yes, a dinner date, not a feast date, potato. All those carbs and calories, you’ll gain so much weight…” he spoke, only looking down on his phone.

Body confidence wasn’t something you had, and hearing this from him made you lose your appetite, and gained anxiety. Were you really gaining weight? Were you ugly now? Did you embarrass him again? The nice outfit you had on suddenly felt tighter though it wasn’t. Neither of you spoke to each other after that, Vil felt the uncomfortable silence you gave, he wasn’t stupid, he knew he had upset you a little but his ego didn’t let him apologize as he thought he was only looking out for your health.

“Dont slouch potato.” he said, usually when he said this you’d tease him and slouch more and that would usually lead to playful banter, but this time you didn’t…“Sorry…” you whispered, correcting your posture. Shortly after the food arrived, his salad, and your meal.

Whenever you two would eat, you two would either be talking, gossiping, or poking fun at stuff. Now there wasn’t even small talk, Vil didn’t want to take initiative, in his mind, he tried already but you were being petty about his comment. You only poked your meal, you wanted to enjoy this meal so badly, but after what he said you couldn’t.

“Don’t play with your food potato.” He warns, “You were the one who decided to order that big of a portion so you eat it” he adds munching on his salad. This was him trying to appease you somehow by indirectly telling you that you can eat all of it, without breaking his strict, prim and propped attitude.

However you took it differently, it was difficult to understand cues when you were half having an anxiety attack. You thought he wanted everyone to see you finish this food as punishment, you nodded and ate it, not even chewing it almost, just gulping it down, wanting to make this as fast as possible.

The drive home was quiet, Vil thought this was still your form of payback about his comment earlier, he thought it was childish but didn’t want you to see it got to him, so he too was silent. When he dropped you off home, usually sweet words, good nights and kisses were exchanged, this time he just drove away, still wanting to have the last win.

When you got home, you took out the shirt you originally wore for the date and burned it on the fire place, the mascara Vil put on you was now running down your face, you looked in the mirror and the pretty clothes you had on looked gross on your body, it was you, you were the problem.

You remembered the amount of food you ate earlier, you felt sick to your stomach, just looking at yourself. You went to your bathroom, and did something you really shouldn’t do. The amount of frustration, anxiety and embarrassment you felt only fueled you to go back to your old bad habits…

You vomited eveything out, not wanting it in your body. Hearing Vil’s voice in your head, you thought how embarrassed he must’ve been to be in a relationship with you. When you were finished you took a shower, and cried yourself to sleep.

The next day, when Grim called you for breakfast you didn’t eat. Went straight to school without even drinking water. At lunch break, when everyone was eating away, you didn’t, pretending to busy yourself with nonexistent homework you made up. You thought you finally escaped the food, the eating. When in free period, you ran into Trey and Vil.

“Oh Y/n! I was looking for you!” Trey waved at you as he and your lover walked towards you, you smiled and waved back, “I wanted to give you this, I made all the first years one to try!” He gave you a box of sweets he made, you took it, hoping neither of them notice your shaky hands. “Thank you, they look delicious” they really did, it made your stomach grumble.

Trey laughed a little hearing that “Looks like they arrived in time too, try one! Tell me what you think” he offers, “Oh please Trey, we already know she’ll love them, she is a foodie after all” Vil chimed, to him he was teasing, like usual, to you it felt like a sarcastic comment, you didn’t want to, but Trey was looking at you with such anticipation, you couldn’t say no.

You took a cookie out, the sweet sugary scent hits you, you took a bite of it, it was as delicious as it looked, but you didn’t enjoy it. You chewed on the cookie with dread, but put on a smile for Trey, “It’s good!” You approved, wanting to look more convincing you took another bite and finished the cookie. Trey looked pleased, he pats your head “I’m glad you like it” he says.

There was a bit of small talk before you and trey excuse yourselves, Trey waved Vil goodbye and you were just walking straight ahead, opposite from Trey, where? You know where…that cookie was sweet, really sweet, imagine the amount of calories you just ingested. You wanted to cry, clutching the box of cookie in your hand.

Little did you know Vil was tailing you, he wanted to settle this petty dispute between you two, he didn’t like that you weren’t giving him the slightest bit of attention, as he was going to call out to you, he saw you throw the box of cookies in the trashcan. It made him angry and confused, why did you do that? You said you liked them? Did you lie to Trey?

He picked it up and followed you, you went into the bathroom. He couldn’t follow in there, so he waited, he waited a long time, and you still weren’t out. He looked around before entering and locking the door behind him. “Potato! How rude of you to just thr-“ he stopped mid sentence as horror fills his vision.

He saw you, kneeling down beside the toilet, forcing yourself to vomit. You looked at him with fear, something he never wanted to see in your eyes. “What are you doing?” You ask him, “What am I doing??? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??” He asks frantically. He places the box near the sink and grabs you by the arm to stand you up.

“Vil let me go!” You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, “Stop that! Stop being difficult!” He scolded, you finally broke lose. “YOU’RE DIFFICULT!” You yelled, tears streaming down your face. “You’re never pleased with me! I’m always ‘potato’ to you! Always imperfect and need to be corrected! You only ever call me pretty when I’m to your liking, fit for your standards, you never let me be me! YOU WANT TO TURN ME INTO YOU!” You shouted, frustrations catching up to you.

You sat on the floor, you felt light headed, you hadn’t ate all day….you fidgeted with your fingers as you sobbed “I’m not you, Vil….I’m not as pretty or as perfect, And I thought you didn’t care that I wasn’t…but everything you say and do makes me feel like you don’t like the real me at all…” you mumbled, sniffling. “I hate how I am too, but hurts a lot when it comes from you…”

He was frozen, he didn’t know what to do, was it him that made you hurt yourself like this? It was. He never meant to, he didn’t want to, all he wanted was to bring out the best in you, that’s all he wanted…right? He kneeled down, not caring if his dirties his uniform…he brushed the hair out of your face, you looked so broken, so hurt…

He took your hand and controls it to give himself a light slap on the cheek, “Whenever I go too far I want you to hurt me okay? Slap me back to reality…tell me not to treat you that way…don’t put yourself through pain for me…” he says keeping your hand on his cheek. “I never want you to do that, to do this…This is bad Y/n you could get badly hurt, don’t do this to yourself….” he voice cracked

He was tearing up as he talked to you, you couldn’t look him in the eye, you were still ashamed of yourself. He felt himself falling apart seeing you this way, he cups your face his hands gently, “My dear, I want you to know, I find you the most beautiful person in this world, the fairest of them all… I’m so sorry I made you feel like you needed to change yourself for me” he cried

“I’m sorry I was overbearing, and strict, but I never want you to change, I fell inlove with the girl wasn’t afraid of getting her hair messed up, the girl who didn’t care about what other people say, the girl who has the brightest smile in her face despite everything. That person was whom I found most beautiful.” You looked up at him also crying. “I love you.” He says in hiccups.

You broke down in another fit of tears, and he embraced you tightly, kissing the crown of your head, he felt every hitch of your breath, every tremble, he felt your pain, he promised himself never to cause you this much pain again.

Once you grew tired of crying he carried you back to Pomefoire, and pampered you with so much love and affection he could give you to make up for what you went through. He took a relaxing bath with you, did skin care and most importantly he made sure you ate something, he ate with you, that way you wouldn’t feel guilty about what you eat cuz he eats it too.

A/N: Eating disorders have always been a big problem I had, so I made this as a reminder to please please please not put yourself through so much pain to be skinny and fit social standards.You are beautiful just the way you are! Ilysm!♥︎

#Spotify #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland reaction #twst x mc #twst x yuu #jamil viper #jamil viper x you #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x you #vil schoenheit x reader

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ponderingmoonlight · 9 months

Note

I wonder, could we request 2 prompts? Cause I had an idea where Gojo with prompt 11, how about Gojo confronting us after the whole “ Getou calling us a monkey and trying to kill us indecent” and out here searching high and low for him, driving out our physical health and mental health is decreasing. We get into an argument with him until we breakdown then prompt 66 comes in and Gojo comforts us and stays with us ( hurt with comfort is my guilty pleasure)

Oh I absolutely adore this idea, let’s do this! Let me know what you think 🖤 11. "You're not fine. You need to rest."

66. "Time for bed. Come on."

You saved me

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader; former!Geto Suguru x reader

Word count: 2k

Synopsis: After your former boyfriend Suguru tried to kill you for being a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you fall into a deep depression. Satoru tries to reach out and help you through it, but you refuse to let him near you. Until he takes matters into his own hands.

Warnings: death, language, hurt, depression, abuse of drugs/alcohol

“He’s dead, (y/n). There was no choice but to take his life. Even Suguru wasn’t strong enough to outstand Yuta. Shoko said she’ll be able to stitch you up completely and that you’ll be healthy again. I’ll meet up with you tomorrow, okay?”

You sign and take another sip of the scorching whiskey in front of you. What time is it? You don’t know. To be honest you lost track of time long ago. After Suguru, your boyfriend of more than five years, called you a monkey and almost killed you for being a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you quit your job and moved further away. With some strip shows here and there you can just keep your head above water – it’s enough to pay for alcohol and your worn-down apartment at least.

That dreadful day changed you completely. You no longer wear a loving smile on your lips, your sundresses lie in the garbage as well as your dignity. You let your hair grow out and dyed it a completely different colour. At this point your curves are completely gone, eaten up by alcohol and lack of sleep. Your tired eyes are sunken and always adorned by dark circles. If you were seen on the street, not even Satoru would be able to recognize you anymore.

Satoru…You haven’t checked in with him since Shoko stitched you up over a year ago. Not that he didn’t try to talk to you. To this day he calls you multiple times a week and sends you countless messages, asking where you are and how you’ve been. You can tell that he’s truly worried about you, but you simply can’t let him see you like this, all worn down and consumed by grief.

The alcohol sometimes made you forget your own name, some nights even his. Your pain swallowed you after you realized that your whole life was a lie, that Suguru did in fact not care about you at all. Satoru just reminds you of your past, the agony you are so eagerly trying to forget. And that’s why you’re sitting here, inside an empty bar late at night with the 10th drink in your hand, head already completely numb and tired eyes covered by a pair of cheap sunglasses.

“Rough day, huh?”

You down the whole whiskey glass and order a new one without looking at the stranger that seems to talk to you.

“Rough life”, you comment dryly.

“So rough that you’re not even recognizing me.”

Your gaze shoots up, mind barely able to process what he’s saying. But this white hair you’d still recognize from miles away.

“How did you find me, Satoru?”

The wounds you hid so well over the past couple of days rip open immediately at his sight. He looks as good as usual, hair a little less fluffy than a year ago. But the bright smile he wears on his lips seems to stay the same no matter how old he his. Yes, it seems like he was able to move on and live his life – how good for him.

“You hid so well that it took me some time. And because you haven’t given any sign of life for a year, I thought I’d just stop by, y’know”, he declares casually.

“Maybe, just maybe I didn’t answer because I didn’t wanna be found by you. I’m fine, no need to worry”, you mutter, gaze glued to the dirty table.

“You’re not fine. You need to rest, (y/n).”

The sound of his voice is so unknown serious that you can’t help but stare at him. Satoru’s facial expression changed completely, cheeky grin gone with the wind. You can see his blue orbs staring at you through the shade of his sunglasses, inspecting you precisely. Did he really just come here to tell you to rest? How fucking stupid.

“What the hell are you talking about? I was just minding my own business when you came around after one year, only to tell me that I look like shit? Guess what Satoru, I don’t need your fucking help. Leave me alone.”

His presence robs you the air to breath. You jump up, throw two bills on the counter and stumble to the exit. The fresh air of the night hits you like a wall and makes it hard to inhale for a moment. Who does this fucker think he is to tell you what to do? You did just fine before he came along and now you’re feeling like crap all over again.

“(y/n), don’t run away from me. I’m faster anyway!”

“Just stop following me, idiot!”

“Don’t run away, then! Stop acting like a brat!”

Your limbs begin to shake in nothing but thick fury, mind clouded by alcohol and drugs.

“I don’t want you near me, Satoru!”, you cry out.

The ground underneath your feet seems to shake, you fall onto the wet street like a sack of rice. Your gut begins to turn uncomfortably, that feeling is way too familiar for you. Before you are able to tie your hair into a ponytail, the liquid of today leaves you in a gush and spills onto the tarmac.

“Gosh, I would love to take a picture of you now. But that’s actually not funny anymore.”

Satoru’s hand wraps around your hair and hold them up while his other arm prevents you from falling over into your own vomit. Tears pool your eyes, throat burning all over from the liqueur. It’s been a while since you had to puke because of alcohol, not the best feeling to be honest. You sob to yourself silently, body shaking like an earthquake from retching dryly.

“Someday I will drink enough to forget his name”, you choke out, arms trembling from the cold and exhaustion.

“You will never drink enough to forget him. Trust me, I tried.”

You wipe your mouth unladylike and sit up, world around you still twisting and turning.

“You’re not the only one who lost someone that night. He was my best friend, the only one I’ve ever had (y/n). It broke me to let him go. But what pains me even more is that you let yourself go this critically, completely lost in your grief and cut off contact with me, just like that. I am your friend too, (y/n). We could have gotten through this together. Instead, you chose to stay high and drunk to keep him off your mind. Let me tell you that sooner or later, past will catch up with you. No drug in the world will make you forget the feelings you’ve had for him.”

The way Satoru’s voice breaks makes you stare up at him with tears swelling up your eyes. To be honest, you never thought about Satoru’s feelings in all of this. Guilty conscience creeps up your spine and takes your breath away. Fuck, why do his words have to make so much sense?

“Why would you want to keep in touch with me? Maybe Suguru is right. Maybe I am nothing more than a monkey after all. And a bad friend on top”, you breathe out.

Satoru can’t believe his ears. Do you really think that you are worth less because you are a non-jujutsu sorcerer?

“(y/n), don’t you dare even thinking about that being true. Suguru was so wrong for all of this. And I get why you’re trying to forget him. Just let me help you getting through this, yeah? Let’s be there for each other.”

He stretches out his hand in front of you, a warm smile caressing his lips.

“Why would you try to help be after I left you alone?”

He may be fucking stupid and unserious from time to time, but Satoru has a heart of gold. Maybe the abused doesn’t necessarily have to become the abuser.

“Why? Because we’re friends, dumbass.”

A smile laugh escapes your lips, hands frantically washing away your salty tears. Oh, Satoru. Where would you be without him and his constant support? Probably dead, crushed under Suguru’s curse. And today? Sooner or later you’d probably kill yourself with alcohol and drugs.

You lay your shaky hand into his. With a swift motion, he lifts you up and embraces you into a tight hug. God, it feels so good to be finally held again. Maybe this is what you needed after rejecting any physical affection from other people for more than 10 years for Suguru’s sake. He smells so good, fresh like a morning in summer. And the heat of his body stops your delicate frame from shaking uncontrollably. Tears run down your cheek like a waterfall, soaking into his uniform in an instant. Satoru just stands there, arms tightly wrapped around you and his head laid on top of yours.

Something inside you snaps. You cry out in pain and grief, sobbing against his chest while he stays silent and lets you have your moment of sorrow. It must have been hard for you to deal with all of this shit alone, everything and everyone reminding you of Suguru. But Satoru is all the more pleased that you are finally allowing your feelings and that you can find comfort in his arms. Slowly but surely your sobbing gets softer and your body stops shaking. Hopefully you feel better now.

“You look tired. Do you live far away from here?”, he requests when you stayed silent for a few minutes.

“Just around the corner. You don’t have to stay though, looks pretty shabby.”

“Like you, that doesn’t stop me though. Time for bed, come on.”

Half an hour later he lays by your side, your body showered for the first time in a while and covered by his way too big t-shirt. Satoru’s arm casually hangs around your shoulder, gaze fixed on the ceiling above. Even in darkness his eyes shine like diamonds - absolutely mesmerizing. It feels so good to be finally held again, to not be alone with your depressing thoughts late at night.

“Why didn’t you just give up on me?”

“How could I do that? You are an absolute sunshine. I owe you so many moments of joy, laughter and good memories. I would rather die than give you up, especially when you need me. Jujutsu sorcerer or not, the world would be a so much worse place without a ray of sunshine like you on it.”

You burry your head in his chest when a new wave of tears threatens to overcome you. What a nice human he is. Despite everything you both been through, after all the pain he had to endure, the affection he holds for you in his eyes is the same as 10 years ago. He will after look after you, be there when you need a shoulder to cry on, will catch you when you fall. It’s you and Satoru against the world with Suguru always in your grieving hearts.

“You saved me again, Satoru”, you whisper into the silence of the room.

“We saved each other, (y/n).”

You smile to yourself, head laying comfortable against his chest. Maybe everything will be alright and you’ll be able to get over the trauma of the last years. Not today, but with Satoru’s help you to eventually get over it.

It just takes time.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jjk #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #satosugu #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru fluff #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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moonsaver · 3 months

Note

Hi! It’s @pix3lplays! (On anon because I have another account and I can’t switch which account I’m asking from haha)

I wanted to say thanks for being so nice when I responded to your comment on one of my posts~I really appreciated what you said hehe, definitely made me feel bit more confident and inspired me to keep writing :)

So I thought I’d throw an ask out since requests are open~

If you’re not interested no problem but I’ve thought about it a little and I thought maybe you’d have some thoughts.

Yandere!Sunday when his darling somehow gets seriously hurt, how do you think he’d feel, what would he do?

Personally I think he’s a complete control freak already when it comes to reader, so it just gets WORSE…ANYWAYS I wanna hear YOUR thoughts if you’re interested in the prompt hehe~ also if you’ve already talked about this oops I must’ve missed it, sorry in advance-

But yeah thanks so much, it was really cool to talk to you, take care of yourself, please!!

Hello Pixel! Thank you for sending in this ask, you're very sweet haha <3 i like your writing and im glad i helped you become more confident in it. Also,same issue here, i cant send asks from this account specifically, so i use anon or just use my personal blog to send asks.

Anyways, onto the request,

Ooh, my Yan!Sunday brain is ticking.. he really is an absolute control freak, and is a bit of a mess when he sees you seriously injured. A miscalculation, ignorance, negligence, or perhaps just.. an oversight from his part? Whatever the reason is, he's in high-drive now, and absolutely stressed about it. He only has a worried and distant look on his face, and at this stage he's prone to easily snapping at anyone, but his mind would be on a completely different level of stress. How dare they? How dare anyone lay a filthy inch of a finger on you? To stain you with their sins, and to breach your skin in such a grotesque manner.. he's absolutely enraged.

He insists on tending to you himself personally, unless it's so serious paramedics have to be involved. Stays by your side until he cant, sitting on the egde of the bed, body turned halfway to face you, fingers ghosting the edge of your face with tenderness.

However, this tenderness is only limited to your recovery period.

After you wake up or recover a bit, practically any freedom you would have had is gone. Completely.

Scolds you, borderline yells at you, holds you still with a deathly tight grip on your arms, forcing you to look into his eyes. This happened because you left. This happened because you were out of his watch. This all happened because of your freedom. Don't you dare even bother mentioning going out anywhere. You will be surveillanced almost all the time. He spends a suffocating amount of time next to you, harshly spitting back whenever you try to protest or reason with him. His words aren't gentle at all, and you're getting on his nerves. Perhaps he should just look over you himself, force you into a borderline coma in the dream fluid, and deal swiftly with the perpetrators.

Robin catches wind of this at some point.. she tells you that he's just worried, and there's a lot of people that don't quite hold The Family in high regards. Just.. its okay. Let him do this.

Let him pick out your clothes, brush your hair, check your healing wounds, gently ebb the water over them as you bathe, and kiss the skin of your shoulder when both of you stay silent after another argument.

If you still continue arguing.. he doesn't have a choice. He slumps a bit, a hand coming up to massage his temple as he sighs, and tells you in a softer voice that he's terrified. The worst thing that could happen did happen. He almost lost you. Can't you just go with it and let him be assured? You're dragging it out much more than it needs to be. He's spent many sleepless nights, ideas of dreamscapes turning into nightmares as the image of your hurt face flashes in his mind. Just cooperate, for Aeons' sake.

And no one speaks after that. He emotionally blackmails and manipulates you as a sort of final resort. Surely, you'd understand. It's not like it's far from the truth anyway. He is scared. But more than that, he's enraged this happened in the first place.

Adding on more to it,

Once things calm down.. in a twisted sort of way, he realizes just how perfectly he can get you under his complete control from these events. He may even not so subtly orchestrate similar events to scare you, to keep you in check, forcing you to rely on him completely, as he swoops in at the right time, acting as some kind of a "savior". Its a sick mindset, and he's not ashamed of it. Oh dear, you were just so pleasantly compliant after that event. And it just solidifies his statement that you shouldn't be going outside anymore, or be constantly accompanied by the Bloodhound Family guards, after only a few incidents of various threat levels.

In the end, it's a cycle that repeats up until you finally give in and let him take any and all freedom you have. He sets down your hairbrush with a gentle 'clack', kisses the crown of your head, and tells you it's alright. He will take such good care of you. Just listen to him. Listen to his every word. He has your best intentions in mind. Don't think about anything, anyone. You're a smart girl, surely you understand?

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bloodywickedvamp · 1 year

Text

Two's Company - What The Hell Is Six? Part 2

Poly!Lost Boys x GN Reader x Michael

Series Masterlist

Summary: Michael and Reader continue their argument off the boardwalk for some privacy. Michael tries his best to explain, but it’s Michael so you can imagine how well that goes. Interrupting vampires say wha-?

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: angst, arguments, cursing, lil rough grabbing of reader, blatant disregard/disrespect for readers own opinions (looking at you marko), vampires and their isms.

Hello all! I'd like to start by saying thank you so so SO much for all the love and support I received on part 1. I truly was not expecting that and it warmed my heart and made me so happy to know you enjoyed it! I love you all and hope you like part 2!!

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Our? I barely had time to register or retort back at the presumptuous claim before Michael grabbed my hand and stormed off to the beach, steam basically pouring out of his ears.

“Michael slow down, you’re going to rip my arm out of its socket!” I screeched trying to gain his attention, to no avail. He just kept speed walking his way down the stairs of the boardwalk till our feet hit the sand, his pace nearly causing me to stumble.

He made a hard right and pulled us both underneath the boardwalk. Now far from the people above and the drunken beach goers littered around campfires producing noisy chatter and blasting music. We’re shrouded in almost complete darkness with the faint lights from the busy stalls and flashy rides peaking through the wooden slats high up.

The tension in the air still lingers from before. To his credit, he does try to calm the heaviness we’re both feeling, albeit for different reasons, as he stops walking to face me and rubs his hands up and down my arms. It’s nice, reassuring even. But I won’t let it deter me. I won’t fall for those deep brown eyes that can suck you in so easily with a simple look and a slight tilt of the head that make him seem remarkably innocent and angelic. Like anything he does couldn’t possibly be from any fault of his own. No matter how much I want to give in and let any number of the excuses he’s already fed me slip past his lips and wrap my mind in a warm blanket of faux vindication.

I can’t, I won’t. My mind slips back to the look of sorrow on Lucy’s face earlier today. The fear I saw as the first few tears pricked her eyes before being pooled together with the back of her palm, an attempt to recollect her fading front of the strong, single mother she was recently thrust into. The utter confusion of what was happening to her eldest child paired with the obvious frustration of helplessness she exuded while I grabbed her shaking palms in encouragement and solidarity. Silently telling her she wasn’t alone, we would be navigating through unknown territory together. Vowing to come out the other side unscathed and bring our former Michael back with us.

I won’t fold or be persuaded by pretty words and empty promises of ‘I’ll do better’ or ‘I’m not acting different, the move has us all stressed out that’s all it is’ and one of the more recent, harsher comments like ‘I’m too busy to talk right now and I can’t deal with this, geez, cool it with the paranoia’.

I’m pulled back to the present when he finally starts talking. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” as I’m pulled a little closer, strong calloused hands still soothing my upper arms. Chest rising and falling as he takes in the air around us in deep breaths. A look of calm starts to encompass his visage, like one would do after smelling their favorite scent for the first time in a long time.

“So you’ve said.” I can’t help but throw a little more lip his way.

“You weren’t paranoid when you tried to call me out all those times. I’ve been a complete ass to everyone- to you.” He admits more willingly than before. I finally see a sliver of truth after weeks of the exact opposite. “Something happened to me…something I’m still trying to figure out. I couldn’t tell you, I didn’t want to, I was scared you’d be in danger. Of what they might do if you knew.” His eyes speak volumes over the vagueness of his speech. The same fear so recently shown to me mere hours ago is mirrored within his own.

Reaching out to cup his check in my palm, I implore him to continue. Beg him to fully tear down the wall hiding the truth, after the initial crack in its foundation. “Michael, whatever it is, whatever you got yourself into - let me help you. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.” Affection passes through the heady mix of emotions swirling around his face as he leans into my touch. Showing that’s all he needed to hear from me he shuts his eyes for a second and nods his head yes, signaling to the both of us that he’s ready. Ready to let me in once more, ready for my reaction, ready to let me help him, ready to obliterate that damned wall he��ll never have to put up again.

“Those guys from the boardwalk, they’re not normal. The first time we hung out they brought me back to their place, a cave at Hudson's Bluff. The whole time going back and forth between fucking with me and making me feel like I could be one of them, like I belonged. After a while they offered me wine, told me to drink and I actually would be one of them. It’s like they were offering me something no one else could. So I did and ever since then I…” He exhausts, pausing for just a moment to squeeze his hands on my arm and hip grounding himself.

“Baby.” whining slightly before continuing. “It wasn’t wine that they gave me…it was blood, David’s blood. They’re vampires and they turned me into one. Told me I’m only a half and to complete the transition I have to make my first kill.”

I’m unmoving, shocked at the words revealed to me with a sigh from his lips and the weight lifted from his shoulders. There’s really only one thing I can think to say though.

“How fucking stupid do you think I am?” I quickly admonish him, a look of worry in response to my vehemence as he realizes I didn’t believe his tall tale. After thinking I finally got through to him I can’t believe he’d try to pull something so unbelievably stupid as this. I’m half expecting him to start laughing and saying ‘got you babe’ like i’m just some big joke to him.

“I’m telling the truth I swear on everyth-”

“No Michael I’ve had it I’m so done!” I scream in his face trying to rip myself from his grip, but he doesn’t let up. His hold only grew tighter in a panic to keep me still. “Let.Me.Go. Now.” I try again pulling and thrashing but it’s like he’s suddenly gained the strength of a hundred men and I can’t seem to move either of us to get away.

He suddenly grabs my face forcing me to look at him and whispers with all sincerity “I didn’t want to do this, I’m so sorry but you have to believe me. Please don’t be scared.” Faster than my brain can comprehend, he shifts. His face morphs into something I’ve only ever seen in movies or the occasional nightmare. The bones within his face move beneath the skin, forehead protruding past its normal position as his eyebrows are suddenly gone from sight, glowing yellow eyes stare back into my own, long and sharp looking fangs poke out just over his bottom lip begging to pierce through skin.

“Oh my god” is all I can seem to whimper out from what I just witnessed. How is this possible? This can’t be real. Suddenly very aware of myself I freeze in his hold, breathing no longer a concept I’m familiar with. That’s when he bolts into action as he hears my heart pounding within my restricted torso.

“It’s okay please please don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you I’d never ever hurt you my love.” Michael professes as he slightly releases the hold around my waist with one arm and completely lets go of my face only to slide down towards the middle of my back with the other.

Before a response can be given by either of us, we’re no longer alone. Peaking over Michael’s shoulder, just behind him stands the four boys from before staring, if it weren’t for the cherry red glow of the end of a cigarette I probably wouldn’t have seen them. Michael bristles though, like he knows they’re there without having heard or turned around to see, maybe he somehow does know. As if he can sense things in a way I can’t or anyone else for that matter.

“Michaelllll” David tauntingly says. Finishing off the cigarette before he flicks it from his grasp landing with a silent thud somewhere in the sand, smirking towards our entangled form. “You’re not speaking ill of me and my boys are you?” He goads through that final puff of smoke. With all eyes on me, now knowing what they are, what they did to my Michael, a wave of dizziness rolls over my body and I’m forced to release the air I've been holding in so as to not pass out.

“Let’s not start throwing out accusations, you willingly drank, accepted our offer. Pointing fingers doesn’t change that. Trying to make us look like the bad guys to keep them away? It won’t work. You’ll have to learn how to share, like a good boy.”

With a deep grunt of frustration from the boy in front of me, my back is suddenly pushed into a wooden pillar, not enough to hurt but still able to pull a gasp from deep within my chest.

“They’re MINE!” Michael seethed at the four. His large hands held on either side of my head taking in deep pants from my neck. Still behind Michael but now closer than they were before the rest of them seem to go a bit rigid. The tallest of them continues to walk further towards us, an unreadable expression plastered on his face that I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of, yet it seems to be glued on the looming figure above my own and in turn me.

“Dwayne” David stops him in his tracks just before he can reach out and touch. “Don’t worry, Michael won’t hurt them, at least not on purpose or on our watch. He’s freshly turned so even the bond between mates can’t overpower that insatiable need to hunt, to feed that we all have at the beginning if provoked far enough that is. Which is why it’d be in your best interest to stick with us Michael. You’ll need to learn how to control your urges, with a little time and a healthy diet you’ll be just like us.” He clarified, more so for Michaels and my own benefit rather than any of theirs it seems.

I glanced their way, still wanting any information they’d be willing to provide. I’m only able to stutter out “M-Mates?” I see varying degrees of smirks and giddy smiles from them at my sudden curiosity.

Dwayne speaks up first as his attention turns solely onto me with a much softer look than before. “Vampires have mates, they're like soulmates. People destined to be together, mind, body, and soul. They fully complete each other.” Almost cooing the new information my way.

“Alright cheeseball, way to lay it on thick.” Paul piped up with a laugh towards the boy as he walked over to sling his arm around his shoulders. Tacking on “but it’s true” throwing a wink and a few eyebrow waggles suggestively.

“Michael is your mate.” David affirmed before Marko readily finished “and you're ours.” Gloved thumb shoved between his teeth covering a sly smirk on that contrasting angelic face he adorns.

Fluttering my gaze back to the boy in front of me, I see his features have gone back to normal. No more teeth or glowing eyes from him. Sharing a confused look I realize he’s also been left in the dark on all of this as well.

Michael turns around to face the group for the first time since the initial intrusion. Chest puffed up and eyes blazing into David, “No.” is all that falls flatly from him.

David lifts a single brow in retort. “You can’t argue with fate Michael. You may not like it but there’s nothing you can do about it and now that we’ve all had the pleasure of meeting we aren’t letting them go.”

“You aren’t letting me go?” my voice dripping with sarcasm and incredulity while mimicking his previous words back to him.

Regaining all the confidence I had from earlier I feel annoyance and anger start to bubble up inside. I still have no idea who these guys really are, besides their names and the fact that they’re actual, literal, real-life vampires! They have no right to make demands of Michael or I. No ground to stand on in my book - no matter the ‘supernatural claim’ they apparently have over me. Fuck this, fuck all of this.

“Does anybody care what I think?” the words tumble from my mouth with a scoff of disbelief. I step out from behind Michaels protective guard towards his left side so I can see them all clearly. Not hiding the disdain I feel towards the situation - towards them. Unwavering defiance on full display while crossing my arms over my chest. “Since you’re talking about me like I’m not even here and don’t have a say in what happens, I thought I’d ask.” Glancing around for their reactions. Dwayne sort of cringing as the words resonate with him. Realizing how this all must sound from my perspective. Paul shooting looks at the others like he’s silently asking any one of them to ‘speak the fuck up - I got nothing’. David, still as calm as he has been the entire time, doesn't let on to what he’s thinking, just a small held tilt while holding my gaze like he’s studying me.

“Course we care sweetheart.” Marko says honestly, though not seeming all that apologetic. “Though let’s be real, we can keep up the back and forth all night long, but at the end of the day the outcome’s still the same. You belong to us, all of us…including Michael.” Emphasizing his name with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I don’t belong to anyone.” protested through gritted teeth.

“Sorry to burst your bubble but you do.” He counters back. His fingerless gloved hands starting to get a little twitchy.

“I’m with Michael by choice, not because he claimed me as some prize or declared some weird, forced...vampy ownership over me.” Finding myself getting twitchy as we both refused to give in.

Marko's eyes quickly flash that same vibrant yellow as Michaels. But they’re gone just as suddenly. He clearly isn’t used to not getting what he wants.

Michael sticks his arm out in front of me as a barrier between the curly haired blonde and I. David fixes him with a look I can only assume is a warning to stand down.

David resumes the reigns by steering the conversation himself. “I would have worded it differently, but Marko is essentially right. We don’t want to force you into anything, so give us a chance to prove ourselves.”

Michael answers before I can with a quick “prove yourselves? what’s that supposed to mean?” My thoughts exactly. I take hold of the arm he’s outstretched and intertwine our fingers, with a small squeeze for comfort.

Ever the quick thinker, so I’m learning, I can briefly see the gears turning in Davids mind on how to ease the atmosphere and remedy the small tiff Marko brought on, before he’s already producing a solution like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Let us take you on a…date. Get to know us without all the hearsay.”

For what seems like the thousandth time this evening Michael and I are shocked by the response. And then my brain starts jumping from one idea to the next at a million miles an hour. Thinking, analyzing, cursing over all that’s happened since I initially stepped foot on the boardwalk and up until this very moment.

I’ve never been the type of person to back down when it comes to the one’s I care about most. I would do whatever it takes, throw caution to the wind and deal with the repercussions later if it meant I could alleviate how devastating the world can make us feel sometimes.

Without fully contemplating the gravity of the situation and, regretfully, without the chance to discuss it first with Michael, I can’t seem to bite my tongue before the answer comes seemingly out of nowhere.

“Okay…I’ll do it.”

🖤 Taglist 🖤

@britany1997 @faefairi3 @princessmads1820 @1nternetvampire @itsyoboysparkel @nataliewalker93 @thelostone91 @misslavenderlady @ursatanicbunny @warrior-616 @charlizekkelly @ghoulgeousimmaculate @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @the-faceless-bride @wickedsandwich08

#bloodywickedvamp #the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #michael emerson #michael emerson x reader #poly lost boys x reader #poly!lost boys x reader #tlb 1987 #lost boys x gn reader #david tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb #marko tlb #michael tlb #michael emerson x gn reader #x gn reader #the lost boys x gn reader

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softtdaisy · 5 months

Text

🌲 save us for later l pierre gasly

summary. Christmas could have been great. if pierre didn't forget to tell his parents you broke. and you didn't have to pretend you were still together.

words count. 2,434

a/n. ok I'm totally obsessed with this one and I really hope you will love it as much as I do🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

“I can’t believe you did that.”

You heard Pierre sigh by your side, like he was already tired of this situation.

Like it wasn’t his fault if you were there today. What a joke.

“You don’t even try to understand.” he added, still focused on the road to not look at you. You noticed he was gripping the wheel so hard his joints were white. Or how he was biting his lips so badly, a habit you helped him to cease doing but apparently he didn’t stop, it was almost bleeding.

But you couldn’t care less. Because this was so typical of Pierre: putting the blame on you by saying you didn’t want to hear his explanation.

“Oh.” you laughed nervously, turning to look at him. “Maybe you’re right.” you took a break long enough for him to frown, wondering if you really agreed with him. He knew for sure that during your past arguments, none of you would flinch this easily.

“I really can’t fucking understand how you could lie to your parents and pretend we are still together, Pierre.”

“What was I supposed to do?

“Tell the fucking truth.” you replied, slamming your hand on the dashboard.

This was absolutely not how you planned your Christmas’ eve.

Well, to be honest, you didn’t plan much. Your parents were away for the holiday and you were just going to eat some homemade food in front of a christmas movie. Nothing much but a well appreciated evening.

For sure, you didn’t plan on spending it with your ex-boyfriend and his family.

Pierre suddenly drove on the sideway and stopped there, getting some horns from annoyed drivers. You looked at him with confusion, he wasn’t the reckless driver type. Obviously. It was his habit to scare you when you shared the car.

He stopped the car and turned to you. “I fucked up, ok? I know that. On so many levels.” you rolled your eyes at this and held back any bad comments. “But everything went fast after our breakup. I haven't seen them since this summer and I couldn’t announce that we broke off our engagement through the phone. When my mom said they were waiting for us tonight, I didn’t have the heart to ruin their christmas. You can blame me for lying. But don’t fucking blame me for protecting my parents for god sake!”

Pierre was right. You knew it.

It was something you’ve always kinda admired about him: how his family would always go first. You couldn’t count the number of hours you waited for him in the hotel room, ready to go out and celebrate, while he was on the phone with his parents or his brothers. For sure, you would be a liar to blame him for something you’ve always encouraged him to do.

Especially considering that you accepted to play pretend tonight for the sake of protecting them, too.

When Pierre called you tonight, you didn’t answer. When he texted you, you barely read the message.

When he knocked on your door, you didn’t have any other choice than to open.

And when he told you, you needed to come with him at his parents’ place to act like a couple even though you’ve been apart for three months now because he still hasn't told them about you…well you laughed. Nervously. And argued a lot.

Then you realised you didn’t want to be the bad person in this narrative. What was one night in a whole life?

You sighed, still looking at Pierre. He still hasn’t moved, waiting for an answer from you. You got lost in each other’s eyes.

And that was the thing that convinced you to come. The fact that he was ready to bring you back home if you really didn’t want to accompany him.

“Fine.” you sat back normally. “You could have told them I wasn’t available.”

You heard Pierre laugh softly. “You still want to have the last word I see.”

Most of the ride went quietly after that. Pierre put on some music and you answered most of your texts. You only started to talk again ten minutes before you arrived to make sure you had the same ideas in mind. No break up, you were still planning your wedding and happy as before. And the reason you didn’t see his family in so long was simply a lack of time from both of you.

“And…” Pierre started once he was parked in front of his family house. You frowned, wondering what you could have potentially forgotten. You memorised everything and it wouldn’t be that hard to pretend after a three year relationship.

But then it hit you when he took the box out of his pocket. “I almost forgot it at home but it’s here.”

You remember when Pierre proposed to you.

You went to Greece during the summer break, last year. One night, while you were walking around the city, you found a place that was recreating Mamma Mia and invited everyone to sing and have fun. And so you went there, singing Abba the whole night. At some point during the night, after a kiss that lasted longer than it should in public, Pierre looked at you with a big smile and said “I want to marry you.” You laughed, thinking he was joking. But he wasn’t. “I meant it. Would you marry me?” and this time you started to cry, nodding so hard you had a neckache.

You later learnt that Pierre had imagined a whole different scenario for the proposal. But it spoke with his heart and did it when it felt perfectly right.

And tonight, you were putting back the ring you worshipped with your whole heart. “It feels weird.” you whispered.

Pierre didn’t answer and simply left the car. It was hard for him too. Acting like he didn’t lose the woman of his life over stupid decisions.

“Vous voilà! Je suis tellement contente de vous voir.” (oh there you are! I’m so happy to see you)

Before you even got the chance to prepare yourself in front of the door, Pierre’s mom opened it and took you both in her arms. You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see her and feel just as appreciated as before. Like nothing changed. And it was the truth, somehow. For his mom, nothing has changed. You were still her son’s fiancé, the one she almost saw as a daughter.

You looked at them, the way she kept touching his face to see any changes. And, what she told you one day, if he had any scars from races he tried to hide from her. You had this weird feeling of being home. Like you were right where you belong. For a second, you were back a year ago, when everything was perfectly fine.

But then it hit you when Pierre took your hand to bring you inside to see everyone. It always felt natural when you were holding hands. In one of your birthday cards, you told him he must be your soulmate simply because your hands seemed to be held by the other.

Tonight, it didn’t feel natural. It was hesitant. Pierre wasn’t confident about closing his fingers on yours and you could feel it.

Everybody seemed so happy to see. They all see you as an official member of their family. And it would be lying to say you weren’t happy to be by their side too.

It helped that you didn’t see much of them for months. You spend the first two hours of the night talking with everyone but Pierre. Asking about their life, their own family, their friends… you had many things to learn. And you avoided some questions. That was one of the rules you established with Pierre. Pretend that the wedding was a big secret you couldn’t tell a thing about. For the rest, you just made the truth prettier.

Sure, you started a new job. But you didn’t admit it was a full time one because you didn’t go to the races anymore.

Yes, your pet was doing so fine. You just had to find the right pictures that would show your new apartment.

No, you still haven’t decided where you would spend the winter break with Pierre. Because you weren’t going on any holiday anymore. At least, not together.

The dinner was a little harder to live. Because you sat next to Pierre, like it was planned. Like it has always been. And this time, compared to the whole drive, you felt more trapped. Because you couldn’t roll your eyes at what he was saying, or avoid his hand when he tried to touch you. Everyone would notice that and understand that something was wrong. You had to be careful.

So careful that, at some point during the evening, you even forgot why you were acting like that. You got lost in his stories about races you went to and especially those you miss after your breakup. You laughed at his joke, sympathised with his bad moments and cheered at the podium you missed.

You remember that day, or night actually for you. You didn’t watch the end of the season after your separation but you still had the notifications from the official account. So you knew the results. And when you learnt that Pierre had secured a second place on the podium, you almost called him. It was still a natural reflex: this desire of celebrating with your loved one.

But you didn’t. You didn’t even send him a text. And for one good reason: the last text you got from him was simply “Je suis désolé” (i am sorry) and you couldn’t handle the pain of going through the pain again.

There had been hard times these past months where you almost forgive Pierre for breaking your engagement. There had been many times where you still wanted to call him and insult him for breaking up just because he woke up one day and realised this was maybe not what he wanted for his future.

What was this? This has been the question you’ve asked yourself many, many times. Was it your couple, your wedding or just you? You had no idea. Pierre couldn’t even explain it himself. He just knew that it wouldn’t be fair to keep pretending he was happy in a life he learnt to despise.

And it was now, sitting by his side, that you realised you had overcome all these mixed feelings. You felt alright. Not good, because the wound was still wide open. But you had accepted it. You would never marry Pierre. And you didn’t want to anymore.

After he finished telling the story of the last race of the season and the battle of champagne he had with Charles, while everyone was talking together, Pierre turned to you. You both got lost in each other's eyes. And you were convinced his little smile was a soft thank you. For being here, for lying, for…being happy.

Because it hadn’t been easy months for Pierre either. Many times he woke up, thinking he had made the worst decision of his life. And some morning, he still wonders if he didn’t lose you for nothing. And those questions weren’t created by some insecurities about his happiness because he knew that he felt happier without this weight on his shoulder. But because he was scared he had ruined you. He would have accepted to be miserable for the rest of his life over this stupid. But he couldn’t accept hurting you forever.

But tonight, you both realised that maybe, things were going better for the both of you. And maybe, that night, was the one you both needed to start healing.

This helps the rest of the night go smoothly. You played games together, laughed together without thinking about the lie you were telling everyone. Even the drive back home felt natural, you talked about his family a lot. He even asked about yours. It was a whole different from the outward journey earlier.

Pierre insisted on walking to your door with you. “It wasn’t that bad, right?” you couldn’t help but smile at him. He had this kind of unserious almost flirty tone like he needed to prove to himself and to you that he was right, in the end. It wasn’t such a terrible thing to do.

You crossed your arms on your chest, a way to protect your heart from opening itself again. “No it wasn’t. You’re right.” he shrugged like it wasn’t such a surprise and you immediately hit him in the chest. You both laughed and oh how it felt good to be this lighthearted again for a few minutes.

It meant more than you imagined that you were standing in front of your door, with your ex-fiancé in front of you. When you could already be in the bed but rather got lost in his eyes. Because you knew exactly what this moment was. And deep down, you weren’t ready to let it go.

You could hear Pierre talk before he even opened his mouth. “We were good together, huh?” you tried to not focus on his glossy eyes or the way he was playing with his fingers.

“Yeah, we were.” you smiled, containing your own tears from falling. “It was good while it lasted.”

Pierre crossed the few steps between you. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips on your forehead. Such a kind and sweet attention you remember he had when you started dating. When, for the first time maybe in his life, he wanted to take things slow to make them last. But this time, there were no other moments to share. And you had to watch him leave your place.

For the last time.

You finally put the key in the door, taking your time to not close this chapter of your life too fast. “Eh!” you jumped, turning around immediately and saw Pierre holding the elevator’s door open. “You know I'll still love you, right?”

“I do.” you tried to ignore this weird feeling in your stomach, not waiting to think about the fact you ended up saying the two words you would never say to him. “Me too.”

There lies the truth. You loved each other. Still.

But you couldn’t be together anymore.

And so when you finally opened the front door and got inside. When Pierre finally let the elevator closed on him and brought him back to his car. You both knew what it meant.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly story #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fin #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 #my writing

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mxchxelschmidt · 6 months

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A/n- this was supposed to be for a request but it didn’t quite come out how I wanted it to, so I will be writing something else for the request but I wont let this smut go to waste

Warnings: Oral sex, (F receiving), mike cums in his pants, arguing, fighting, smut, slight angst.

Word count: 1k

Arguments between you and Mike were few and far between. You just didn’t really have them, and if you did it was usually resolved quickly. This time however, both of your stubbornness was getting the better of each other. So it was somewhere near midnight and you were still bickering in the living room. Mike was standing in front of where you were seated on the couch. He was rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers and trying to think of his next move. Meanwhile you were locked and loaded, ready to battle it out.

He sighed and looked at you, “You’re being a stubborn brat about this, I already said no. We aren’t enrolling her in something that she’s not even going to be interested in three months from now. Especially when it’s going to cost an arm and leg to get her an instrument.”

Abby had come home talking all about band class and about how her best friend would be joining. Abby had decided she wanted to play the trumpet. Those were surprisingly pricey, but you had already told her before Mike could interject with his thoughts that you would get her a trumpet if that’s what she wanted to play. Mike hadn’t taken this lightly and gave you a look across the table. The look said, “We will talk about this later.”

It was already too late, you wouldn’t go back on your word with Abby. So Mikes arguing was really for nothing. You realized this shortly into the argument but he wanted to keep going. So you did.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal Mike, I already said I would take care of it. You’re not going to stop me from doing it, especially if it’s going to make her happy. So you should probably just stop fighting with me about it.”

This seems to make him angrier, “This is what I mean! You didn’t even let me get a word in. She asks for anything and you just jump to it. It’s like if she asks you to jump you say how high?”

You were a sucker for his little sister and you couldn’t help it. Since the beginning you two had grown a bond. When you and Mike started dating after being set up on a blind date by mutual friends she immediately took a liking to you. The same went for you with her.

“Okay Mike, I’m sorry that Abby wanted to do something and I have the ability to make it happen. I just want her to be able to do anything she puts her mind to, she’s a bright little girl and I want her to have her creative outlets.” You’re starting to get annoyed with him and you stand up to try and create space between you two to cool off. He uses your movement to close the space between you.

Mike’s hands rest on your hips with a tight grip, “I’m not done talking about this yet,” He says and practically pulls you into his chest.

You push against him and try to back away to no avail, “Mike we both need to cool off before we wake Abby up. We shouldn’t be fighting like this where she can here.”

He’s looking into your eyes and his grip on your hips tighten, “Then let’s not fight baby, lets just let it go till morning.” He lets his lips brush against yours. Against your better judgement you kiss back. Your lips connect like they were made for each other and Mikes hands don’t stay where they are for long once he knows he has you right where he wants you. His hands begin to roam up your back under your shirt touching the soft expanse of skin there. His hands are warm and you can’t complain, except you’re supposed to be arguing right now.

He grabs one of your legs to hitch it up around his waist and you wrap your arms around his neck for support. The kiss depens and you know you’ve lost the battle, but you’re going to win the war.

He wraps his arms under your butt and hoists you up carrying you towards the bedroom. You begin to kiss at his neck figuring that this is better than arguing with him for another few hours.

You hear his breath hitch in his throat as you kiss, he struggles to get the door open and closed with you in his arms but soon he rests you on the bed and you release your legs from around him. He tugs your pants off leaving you in panties. He places himself between your legs and leans down, mouthing at the soft fabric of your underwear and letting his tongue trace the fabric over your clit.

Your head tilts back in anticipation as you let out a soft moan, “Mike, baby, please.” You say quietly.

He shushes you gently from between your legs and moments later hes hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties pulling them down your legs and tossing them somewhere else in the room. Mike goes back to licking at your wet folds, tongue pressing between them and to your clit.

You moan out softly and feel your hips involuntarily grind against his mouth, searching for more. You let a hand move to tangle in his hair, holding him there where it feels the best.

Mike continues his assault, tongue flicking against your clit and licking long stripes up your wet entrance every little bit. You feel the heat pooling in your stomach as an orgasm builds itself up. Your legs begin to twitch slightly and your thighs tighten around Mikes head, causing him to moan at the restriction.

He begins to work harder, tongue moving in tight circles on your clit as he buries his face impossibly deeper into your cunt. He could stay like this forever, pussy drunk, making you feel good. Especially with your thighs tight around his head keeping him where he is.

You feel it building further and you know you’re close to the edge, just a little more and you’ll be coming undone against Mikes mouth like this. As he eats you out you begin to rock your hips steadily against his mouth.

“Fuck baby, yes, just like that. Keep going… Oh fuck, don’t stop.” You practically beg as you bury your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip to fuck yourself against his mouth. Your body twitches as the orgasm washes over you, stilling for a moment before rocking your hips against his tongue to ride the pleasure of the orgasm out. You continue rocking your hips until you feel the overstimulation gripping his hair and pulling him away from your clit.

The look on his face is far off and dreamy. It could be the lack of oxygen you allowed him while keeping him buried in your pussy, or it could be the fact that he just loves making you feel good. He crawls up the bed to collapse next to you and you look at him with confusion.

“What about you baby?” You ask leaning into his side tracing your fingers across his chest.

He shakes his head and laughs quietly, “Mmm I already uhh. I already came while I was down there…”

You grin at him and press a kiss to his lips humming softly before laying your head down on the pillow, “I win… Abby’s getting the trumpet by the way.” You say before rolling over and letting yourself fall to sleep.

Mike doesn’t argue with you this time, he simply wraps his arms around your body and falls asleep next to you, figuring he has a chance at winning the argument next time

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt fnaf #fiction #fnaf fanfic #fnaf movie fanfic #mike schmidt hc

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myosotisa · 11 months

Text

Like Real People Do - e.m.

Part 1/2 - Why were you digging?

ǁ summary: 30 days into your stay at the Betty Ford Center for Rehabilitation, Eddie Munson gets brought in against his will. While in the middle of trying to figure out your own issues, you find yourself being followed around by a detoxing rockstar who won't take a hint and get lost.

ǁ tags: angst, hurt/comfort, heavy themes. depictions of inpatient rehab in the 90s. implied fem!Reader, no pronouns used, no y/n. strangers to reluctant acquaintances to lovers.

ǁ content warning: both parts will contain mentions of drug use, struggling with addiction, self worth, society's view on drug users, grief, and death by drug overdose. brief mention of domestic violence and drug assisted disordered eating. please consume thoughtfully and if you have any questions before reading, feel free to message me.

ǁ word count: 7k

ǁ Part 2 ǁ Read on AO3 ǁ

The lock on your door clunks open at exactly 8am every morning. A glaring alarm that your new day is about to start whether you want it to or not.

At 8:15, one of the workers on staff is barely knocking before pushing in to make sure you and your roommate will be ready for breakfast at 8:30 sharp.

At 8:30, you’re standing in line with everyone else to get your morning meds. Amoxaphine for depression. Atenolol for high blood pressure. Methadone for opioid withdrawal. Acamprosate for alcohol withdrawal.

A little paper cup of water to wash them all down, your mouth presented to prove you did actually swallow them, and then a verbal pat on the back before sending you over to the breakfast line.

A styrofoam plate of scrambled eggs and toast with jam on a plastic tray, balanced carefully with a cup of whatever juice they decided to buy this week. Carefully set down on one of the small tables by the window where you’ll sit and eat alone – appreciating the quiet and serenity for the few moments a day you get it before you’re shoved off to the next task.

The same thing for the past 28 days since you were deposited in the Betty Ford Center. You’d gone from euphoric, cold, and totally out of it to anxious, shaky, unable to sleep, and just fucking miserable. And while some days were getting easier and others seemed more difficult than ever, at least you had gotten into the routine of inpatient rehab. At least you knew to expect the same thing everyday. At least you were prepared to deal with what the external world threw at you.

Until you weren’t.

The moment the doors to the main hall are thrown open – impacting the opposing walls with a slam – you get an overwhelming feeling that something is about to change. Something big.

“Hey fucker! Hey! Get your meat hands off me, lughead.”

Most of the heads in the room turn toward the source of the yelling, a parade of 5 coming through the double doors. Two you know, the medical director Mr. Ford and one of the doctors Dr. Lincoln. They both look annoyed and uncomfortable as they walk ahead of a set of 3 men.

Flanked on either side by a buff orderly, getting borderline dragged across the floor, is a man you’ve never seen. His long, messy waves whip wildly around his head as he lets out expletives and pulls against the sharp hold on his biceps. His voice is ragged and slurred as he makes nonsensical arguments towards the two men leading him away. He’s in regular clothes – outside clothes – with torn jeans and metal chains hanging off his hips, ripped sleeves showing off his tattooed arms, and large rings on every finger.

Someone new?

Having gotten their eyeful, half the room goes back to pushing around their breakfasts with plastic cutlery while the other half continues to watch with amusement. A new person only comes through every 15 days or so, and this was only the second since you’d arrived. The first one, a meek boy named Thomas, had been admitted so quietly that he all of the sudden appeared one day in group, already through the worst of the detox, before you had ever even heard of him.

It makes you wonder if more inpatient admissions are like that or like this.

You wish you could remember yours.

In a whirl of movement, the man rips his arms free and flies backwards with a stumble. Had he been more coordinated, and probably more sober, than he is, he might have made a decent break for it. As he is, he’s barely able to turn toward the doors they came through before the men are grabbing him again from behind, hooking their arms around his to now actually drag him down the hallway toward the hospital wing.

The heels of his black boots drag against the beige tile floor as he slumps in their grip, eyelids fluttering slightly before he manages to bring back enough energy to yell another, “Fuck you!” at his captors.

Just before they disappear behind another set of locked down double doors, the two of you make eye contact. From this distance, you can still see how bloodshot his eyes are – deep brown ringed by red toned white. They are steadily falling closed with each blink as he most likely loses the fight against some kind of sedative. But somehow, with what must be the last moments of consciousness he has left, he sees you watching him. The corner of his mouth tilts up in a lazy smirk. And he winks.

The motherfucker winks at you right as his head lulls to the side before falling forward and the group of 5 disappears.

Something new indeed.

You don’t see the stranger again until 6 days later.

New admissions normally spend anywhere from 3 days to a week and a half in the hospital wing after arriving. IV fluids, heavy meds, and a more prepared medical staff to deal with the worst of the detox period. Depending on what you were on, how recently you took it compared to when you arrived, and the length of your addiction makes a huge difference in how much time you spend there before being sent back to the rest of the floor.

4 days is average, which is the amount of time you spent in the hospital wing before being put into room 102 with Melissa Redding. Teen beauty queen of the Betty Ford Center who got hooked on meth after a consultant for the pageant used it to help her lose weight.

The center had a neat little tradition of having your roommate show you around on the first day. For you, that had meant busy bee Melissa whispering in your ear in and outs of who was who and all of the drama entailed even though you didn’t care in the slightest. That continued through the rest of the day as she showed you around the main hall, gave you a tour of the garden during your mandated 1 hour of outside time, and into the Therapy House.

While she had initially been excited to have a roommate, she very quickly learned you would not be the entertainment she wanted. So she went back to gossiping with Kathy the housewife, who was in for a bad habit of using too much Adderall to get through the day with her kids. Leaving you to your own devices.

It was better that way.

You’re already in your seat by the window with breakfast by the time the stranger stumbles in after Howard, the gruff old man whose family sent him here for drinking too much (drinks the same amount as any other man his age, but who are you to judge?). He gets right into the med line, now half diminished due to their late arrival, and doesn’t seem to pay any attention to the stranger as he wanders away.

Guess he decided that wasn’t his job.

Tall, dark, and lanky looks like he’s been through the ringer. Skin pallor and clammy, hair pulled into a bird’s nest of a bun on the back of his head with the top and bangs matted flat with what you assume is sweat, hands fussing in front of him like if he doesn’t move as many muscles as possible at once he’ll explode. There are deep purple bags under his wide eyes as he approaches one of the other windows in the space, 30 feet away from where you’re sitting.

He looks over the frame like he’s trying to find a way out, coming back with nothing before heading to the next window, closer to you. His appearance and behavior make you think of a wet rat trying to claw its way up the side of a bathtub – unable to grip onto anything and getting sent back down into the water again every time he tries to climb.

Hoping not to catch his attention, you direct your gaze down, focusing back on your under salted eggs and grape jam. Between the lack of seasoning and the juice of the week being some kind of weird pineapple mix, you’re left wanting even more so than usual over your bare bones breakfast.

Despite your half assed attempt to be invisible, the single chair across from you at your table is pulled out, flipped around, and then settled into by the stranger. In your shock, you look up at him before you can second guess the reaction.

“I saw you, I remember,” his voice is deeper than you thought, raspy at the edges with exhaustion and hardship. His gaze flicks rapidly from the table, your food, your face, the rest of the room, his hands. Everywhere at once it seems. “The day they brought me in.”

“Yup,” you confirm with an awkward nod of acknowledgement before looking back at your food.

Please leave, please leave, please leave.

“I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

Looking back up at him, he has a bit more life in his face. Something that looks a little bit like hope.

“Okay.”

His face falls.

“You… Doesn’t ring any bells? Eddie Munson, guitarist, Corroded Coffin, biggest rock-metal band of the 90s?” The longer he goes, his wet eyes widen, making him look like a pleading animal looking for food scraps. When you show absolutely no recognition for anything he’s saying, he brings his hands together, fingers moving to twist at rings that no longer sit there. When he doesn’t find them, his leg starts to bounce under the table and his palms start tapping on the top of the chair at his chest.

“If you’re looking for celebrity worship, I’m sure Melissa or Kathy would be happy to provide.” You inform him, hoping he will lose interest and go searching for them to give him the attention he seems to be looking for. You go back to spreading jam on your slightly burnt toast.

He doesn’t take the bait. “How, uh, how long have you been here?”

Taking a long inhale through your nose and out through your mouth, you set your plastic knife back down. “A month.”

His hisses out air through his teeth, eyes searching over the rest of the room, like he’s waiting for something bad to happen. “How long do people normally stay locked up in here?”

Ah.

“I dunno. A couple months? I’m not exactly some kind of authority here. You should go ask–”

“Has anyone ever broken out?”

Though you’re not sure why you’re surprised, you still struggle with the question. He makes eye contact with you again and the look in his eye is different now. Smaller.

He’s scared.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

He scoffs, using his hand at his chin to crack his neck in either direction, looking unsatisfied with your answer. “Come on, like nobody has ever tried to get out? You’ve never tried?”

A weight presses down on your chest. “No, I haven’t.”

“Yeah right, I’m sure that there’s some–”

“Mr. Munson!”

An orderly stalks toward the table, looking crabby and annoyed this early in the day. Eddie looks about ready to bolt after their bark but somehow remains seated until they arrive. “I’m sure Howard didn’t inform you, but first thing in the morning you’re supposed to come up to the nurse window to receive your medication.” They present their arm back to where the now empty med line stands, everyone else settled into seats with their breakfasts. “After you’ve taken your medication, you can grab some breakfast and…” They make eye contact with you that you’re quick to avoid. “Converse with whoever you want.”

“See, your mistake was that I don’t need any medication, so I don’t need to wait in line.” His voice is slowly raising in volume, drawing more and more attention as he goes. “In fact, I’m not even supposed to be here!”

“Mr. Munson, please lower your voice, you’ll disturb the other residents.”

“Fuck the other residents,” he slams his palms down on your table, almost knocking off your plastic cup of juice when it rocks and you jolt back from the show of aggression. All eyes in the room are on him now, and by extension, you. Other residents, other orderlies, nurses, the kitchen staff.

Too many eyes.

While the attention makes you want to crawl into a hole and die, it seems to please Eddie. He pushes up off of his chair and makes a show of arguing with the annoyed orderly all the way over to the nurse’s station. All eyes in the room follow him and his suddenly animated features, looking like he has gained 10x more energy than when he walked in. You use the distraction to your advantage.

By the time Eddie has had medication forced down his throat, a plate of shitty eggs deposited in his hands, and he turns around to look at your table again, you’re nowhere to be found.

He finds you again in the garden before group therapy.

You’re tucked away in a painted white, wrought iron chair that’s bolted to the ground next to a tall shrub. It’s still in the gated off outdoor area, but mostly hidden from view. The orderlies know to find you there if they need you because that’s where you always are – sitting on that single chair in the sunshine with a paperback book on your lap. Today it’s Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch.

When a body blocks the sun over your book, your first assumption is that it’s an orderly coming to tell you it’s time to head to Therapy House. But it seems too early for that, and you’re normally a pretty good judge of time (at least, in here), so when an unfamiliar voice clears its throat in front of you, you huff a breath before you raise your head to acknowledge him.

“Is that seat taken?” He asks with a grin, motioning to the empty table bolted to the ground beside your chair. It’s obviously a rhetorical question – maybe to get you to smile or laugh. You do neither and give him a flat look.

“Actually, I’m saving it for someone.”

This seems to delight him even more, eyebrows raising and eyes getting some more life in them as he takes a seat on the table anyway. “Well I’ll keep it nice and warm for them until they show up.” He pulls his facility-issued navy sweatpants covered legs up to cross under him, effectively draping his knee over your arm.

Accepting your fate to not get rid of him, you open your book again to where you left off.

“Best not to speculate, really,” said Aziraphale. “You can’t second-guess ineffability, I always say. There’s Right, and there’s Wrong. If you do Wrong when you’re told to do Right, you deserve to be punished.”

“I checked the perimeter of the garden,” his voice is lowered, as if someone would overhear him, “looking for weak spots.”

You hum an acknowledgement, keeping your eyes on your book as you reply in a sarcastic monotone, “Because that’s definitely not suspicious.”

He waves you off out of the corner of your eye, beginning a light tap of his hands against his knees. Even with the medication. He either needs a higher dose or he’s hyperactive at baseline. “They probably just thought I was giving myself a little tour or something, I don’t know. I don’t really care if it’s suspicious, actually. All I know is there’s like… Nothing. At all.”

“Shocker.”

Continuing to ignore your lackluster responses, a bopping of his head joins the beat of his palms. You attempt to reread the same paragraph over and over to try and comprehend it through his talking and fidgeting, failing time after time. “Not even like a locked gate or anything. And the fence itself is too high to get over with no footholds, unless you got something to stand on to grab the top and pull yourself over. Yeah…”

“Oh!” The sudden volume of his voice makes you jerk away from him again, not expecting the sharp change. “What about your chair, is it loose?” One long fingered hand grips the backrest between your shoulder blades and the other the chair arm closest to him, attempting to give it a shake. “Maybe we could get the bolts out and use it to climb the fence.” He only succeeds in making an annoying rattling sound and jostling you back and forth.

“Fuck, Eddie, will you –” Using the paper cover of your book, you smack at his forearm a few times, causing him to quickly withdraw and hold his hands up in front of his chest like he’s worried your attack will continue. “Fucking, stop it.”

“Geez, sorry,” he mutters, looking slightly sheepish but still not exactly apologetic. “What’s your name, by the way? I forgot to ask.”

“Seems a little too late to ask now, don’t you think?” You turn the page of your book to make it look like you’re making progress despite the fact that you haven’t been able to finish a sentence since Eddie sat down beside you. Anything to help you look less interested in his attempted escape and, therefore, him.

An amused snort leaves his nose, tapping hands turning to a hold on his knees to let him lean back without falling off the table. “Well you are just a ray of sunshine,” he snarks back, looking more amused than annoyed. “Anyone ever told you that before?”

Finally lifting your head to give him a placating and overly artificial smile, you meet his eyes to make sure he can see your insincerity when you say, “Only every day.”

And while he opens his mouth to probably throw back another sarcastic retort, he’s interrupted by the “relaxing” (read: fucking annoying) gong by the Therapy House going off, signaling it’s time to head inside. You snap your book shut and push off your chair without a word to join the rest of the group outside in the unenthusiastic shuffle toward the birch wood doors. Another set of slip-on shoes, a matching pair to yours, sidles up beside where your own drag through the dirt path.

“So what happens now?” He asks, leaning a little bit closer to you as he speaks again, like the two of you are conspiring together on something. Based on your interactions so far, maybe he thinks you are.

“Therapy,” is your sharp reply. And, as if finally understanding he probably isn’t going to get much more information, he shuts up and just walks beside you toward the two story building off of the main facility.

All 12 of you wander through the doors in your similar outfits – sweatpants, t-shirts, and hoodies in shades of blue, grey, and black. Crossing from dirt and stone pathways onto the pristine wood floors of the Therapy House that’s awash with sunlight. As many windows as possible in all directions and a huge circular skylight above leaves the whole room bright and airy.

There are 13 metal folding chairs set up in a circle beneath the skylight, 1 more than yesterday, and the one directly across from the door is already occupied.

Mrs. Penelope Windsor is the head of therapy at the Betty Ford Center for Rehabilitation and wears that title with the utmost pride. She’s put together, ambitious, intelligent, and damn good at her job. Not to mention attractive, with her long legs crossed under her black pencil skirt, her crimson red button up blouse showing just enough collarbone to still be ‘professional’, and the long brunette braid draped over her shoulder. Her black heels are patent leather and perfectly shiny along with the matching briefcase sitting beside her chair. She stands out sharply from the white walls and birch wood floors of the Therapy House – but she commands your attention that way. A focal point in a room of white and tan and beige nothingness.

And the moment you walk through the doors with Eddie beside you, you feel her hazel eyes on you like a fucking hawk.

You avoid making eye contact, as per usual, and settle into the seat you’ve been using since the first day you came here. To your displeasure, Eddie immediately grabs the seat to your right, flipping it around to sit backwards in it, folding his arms over the back with a certain lazy confidence.

Tony, who normally sits there, hovers uncomfortably for a moment behind before scuttling over to the only remaining chair between Mrs. Windsor and Melissa.

As soon as he’s seated, heavy and tense silence settles over the room while the rest of you wait for Penelope to greet the group. You could hear a pin drop in the room in these moments, everyone shifting uncomfortably in the quiet as she takes a few moments to look over the group before her.

Almost like she enjoys making us all squirm under her authority.

Her sharp eyes settle on Eddie, her face as passive as always. He does very little to react to her stare but takes it as a sort of challenge – staring right back where most would shy away. The corner of her mouth lifts almost imperceptibly, like she appreciates the challenge.

The silent standoff is broken as Thomas’ wooden cane clatters to the floor beside his chair from where it had been leaning. He immediately turns bright red from the collar of his black t-shirt all the way to the tips of his ears. “Shit – Wait, oh, shoot, sorry!” Scooping it up in shaky hands, he is quick to tuck it between his knees, white knuckle fisting the handle in his embarrassment.

“That’s quite alright, Thomas,” is Penelope’s serene reply, a gentle smile directed his way before she addresses the group. “Good afternoon, everyone. Welcome back to our group session for today.”

No one says a word as she takes another uncomfortable moment to scan the group before doubling back to land on Eddie. “I see we have a new member of our group today. My name is Mrs. Windsor and I’m the head therapist here at the Betty Ford Center, but you’re more than welcome to call me Penelope. Could you introduce yourself for us, please?”

“Eddie Munson, guitarist, Corroded Coffin.” He answers cooly, and you watch his eyes do a quick scan to see if anyone shows any recognition. When there are a few reactions, his smile grows into one of satisfaction before he returns his gaze to Penelope. “Am I supposed to say what they locked me up for now or somethin’?” It comes out in a teasing lit, like he is trying to make a joke of it all.

No one laughs.

She takes it in stride. “You’re more than welcome to share what you’re struggling with, if you’d like.”

His shoulders rise slightly, like a cat going on the defensive. “Okay, first of all, I’m not struggling with anything. I’m not even supposed to be here. I keep telling them if they just let me call my manager we could get this whole thing cleared up so I can get the fuck out of here and back to my life.”

“Your manager…” She leans over, plucking a file from her briefcase and unfolding it on her lap. “Mr. Scott?” She looks up through her eyelashes for confirmation.

He settles again, looking slightly relieved. “Yeah, Jonathan Scott, Razor & Tie.”

“Mhmm…” She looks back at the file, flipping a page up in what looks to be a show. Like she already knows what she’s supposedly ‘looking’ for. “It says here Mr. Scott is the person who applied for your stay in our center and is the sign off as your legal guardian while you’re completing your treatment.” She lightly closes the file, sitting up straight again to look at him. “Did you know that Eddie?”

“No,” he answers, voice suddenly unsure, eyebrows drawing together on his forehead and shoulders falling. “No, I didn’t.”

“Well then,” her smile is nothing but satisfied when she slips the papers back into her briefcase. “It seems there’s nothing to be cleared up here after all. And I’m sure we’re all very excited to get to know you over the next few weeks, Eddie.”

Challenge won.

When he doesn’t respond, she moves on. “Now, Kathy, it looks like your nails are doing better…”

You tune out the rest of her interaction, focusing on the man beside you. He has his head slightly hung down, eyes on his hands as he holds one wide and uses the opposite thumb to rub along his palm. There’s an air about him – closer to one you saw this morning. Confused. Lost. Scared.

You almost feel sorry for the guy.

Two hours later, you’re in one of the ‘office lofts’ of Therapy House, a 5x5 closed room with a loveseat for you and an armchair for your therapist. After group is over, there are rotations of 1 on 1 therapy with one of the various counselors on staff, herding each of you into tiny rooms for an hour at a time. At the beginning of your stay, you had somehow lucked out to being assigned to Queen Penelope herself.

She sits across from you with her holier-than-thou attitude and a spiral notebook clutched in her well-manicured hands – filled with notes about you that you’re not supposed to see. In the sunken down cushions of the loveseat, you end up sitting below her eyeline even if you tried to sit up straight. So you don’t try – tucking your legs under you and crossing your arms under your chest.

As per usual, she starts the session with a few moments of horrifying silence. Almost as a dare to get you to talk first just to break it.

You never have.

“So, how are you feeling today?”

“Fine. Same as always.”

She clicks her pen, like she’s already prepared to start taking notes off that one sentence. “Indeed. Everyday is always ‘fine’, isn’t it?”

Eddie must have made you more snippy than usual, because you’re already ready to turn on her. “What point are you trying to make, exactly?”

“Everyday, every time anyone asks, the answer is always ‘fine.’ Fine is a noncommittal answer that means nothing.” She leans back in her chair, cool and collected as always. “Fine is the answer you give when you’re avoiding the answer.”

It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes at her. “Okay, what is my answer supposed to be then?”

“The truth, preferably.”

Wow, thanks, that’s helpful.

When you don’t respond with a new answer, she moves on. “Are you still having nightmares? Flashbacks?”

A shiver crawls up your spine, creeping toward the cold sweat that starts to build at the nape of your neck on instinct. “Sometimes.”

Liar.

“How often, would you say? For the nightmares?”

Clammy hands press into the fabric of your grey sweatpants. “Maybe once a week.”

Liar.

She scribbles something down in her notepad. “And the flashbacks?”

A vision of cold, blue tipped fingers reaching out toward you from the dark comes to the forefront of your mind before you blink it away. “Less than that, I think.”

Liar!

“And are they all still about her?”

The cold from those blue tipped fingers permeates through your body, settling into your bones in a chill that never seems to leave you anymore. “Not all of them.”

LIAR. LIAR. LIAR. LI–

“Actually, can we talk about something else?” Your request comes out quicker than you’d like, giving a show of desperation as you adjust in your seat. “Please,” you add as an afterthought.

Her gaze is sharp as ever and calculated in her perusal of you for another few moments, but she concedes. “Alright. What would you like to talk about then?”

When you flounder for an answer, mouth opening and shutting uselessly, she offers an alternative of her own. “I saw you walk in with the new guy today. Eddie, right? Did you talk to him at all?”

You let out a huff, eyes directing down to where your wandering fingers have landed on a piece of loose thread on your pants. “More like sat there while he talked at me.”

“He didn’t give you a chance to talk or you never took it?”

“I don’t exactly have anything I want to talk to him about,” is your cold response, once again looking up to make eye contact with her.

“You know, it wouldn’t actually hurt to try to connect with someone again. Maybe open up to a new friend?”

This time you’re not able to withhold your eye roll. “Junkie rockstar is not exactly the kind of friend I’m looking to make.”

“That’s a bit of a hurtful representation, don’t you think?” She is writing another note as she speaks, eyes looking between you and her page. “How would you feel if someone didn’t want to interact with you because you’re a ‘junkie’?”

Your gaze flicks back down to the thread between your fingers as you mumble, “They wouldn’t exactly be wrong.”

“Do you think you’re a bad person because of your drug use?”

I think I’m a bad person for a lot of reasons.

“It doesn’t exactly give you a glowing perception in the eyes of the public,” you answer defensively.

“That may be true. So you did something that was frowned upon by the general public, making it ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’.” She adds in the air quotes, even though her tone was enough to warrant the assumption that she was being facetious. “What about all of the good things you’ve done? Is there some kind of threshold for the amount of ‘bad’ things a person needs to have done in comparison to the good ones to brand them as a ‘bad’ person?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

Her eyes flit over to the book beside you, resting on the cushion with the cover Good Omens facing up, before returning to you. “I think, personally, that it’s possible to have done bad things without it making you a bad person. It doesn’t make you a good person either, mind you. Because there’s also no such thing as a person who is wholly good either.” She folds her hands over her lap like she always does when she thinks she’s about to say something really profound.

“Good and bad are just malleable descriptions we give to things. People are not simply good or simply bad. People are just… People. Where good, bad, and everything in between coexist.”

Then why do I feel like this?

Eddie plops down in front of you at breakfast looking slightly less like a wet rat than he has so far.

"Good morning, sunshine." And he grins, way too fucking chipper for being 2 weeks into detoxing.

"Don't call me that."

"Whatever you say, sunshine," he repeats with the same grin, like he's glad you don't like it. "I have a plan for us to get out of here."

Get out? A plan? Us? You don't even know where to start with that. "Ah. No wonder you look like it's Christmas morning."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment." With a noncommittal 'mmfh', you go back to pushing around your over salted scrambled eggs. "Aren't you going to ask what my plan is?"

"No."

"Well, since you asked," he ignores you and leans over the table, once again lowering his voice to a soft murmur. "One of the night nurses is a fan of my band."

He pauses there, like he's looking for some kind of response. You offer up a completely lackluster, "Congrats."

"Sooo, maybe I can butter her up. Promise her VIP tickets or backstage passes or something. Bribe her to get us out."

Stabbing into a chunk of egg hard enough to almost pierce through the styrofoam beneath, you mumble, "Good luck with that."

He points his fork at you, eyes narrowing in a glare. "You don't think it will work."

"I don't care if it works," you sigh as you bring a hand up to rub at the sudden tension in your temple. "What do you think is gonna happen when you get out, huh? They're just gonna say 'Well, he got out of rehab, guess that's it then!' Your manager is just gonna have you delivered right back here."

"Then I get a new manager." Another flat look is leveled in his direction. "Seriously, I can figure it out once I get out of here. And if you're gonna be this negative about it, then maybe I won't take you with me," he says it like a threat, looking smug as he sips at his not-quite-pineapple juice.

"Good."

His plastic cup hits the table fast enough that a bit sloshes out and onto the vinyl cover. "What do you mean 'good'? You're telling me you don't want to get out of here?"

It's like he's finally hearing you for the first time. "Yes, that is what I'm telling you."

"As if." He scoffs, shoving a chunk of scramble egg in his mouth before continuing to talk through chewing it. "Nobody wants to be in here getting pumped full of happy meds and talking about our feelings with the Ice Queen."

A part of you actually wants to be amused at the term Ice Queen, but you're quick to beat it down. "Yeah, well, maybe I do."

He takes a big bite out of his stiff toast next, crumbs flying with the force of it. "I think," he pauses to swallow the bite before pointing the toast at you this time. "That you have Stockholm Syndrome. And have accepted defeat in your captivity."

"Whatever you say, Munson."

You should've known better than to assume it would end there.

After breakfast, all of you scatter throughout the main hall to do various things to fill your time. As usual, you sit down on a chair by the window so you can continue your book. You're quickly approaching the climax of the narrative, when the four horsemen begin their ride toward the end of the world.

Eddie has set up shop at a table nearby, bent over the top that's scattered with papers that are all covered in drawings of various mythical creatures. He's currently scratching away at a sketch of a three headed Hydra, mouths roaring fire toward the sky.

You'd never tell him this of course, but you have to admit that they are pretty good.

It's 30 minutes of blissful silence with plenty of progress made in your book until he starts talking again.

"Do you actually not want to get out of here?"

You exhale through your nose sharply, annoyed that you're being forced to continue this conversation. Closing your book with your thumb tucked in to save your page, you turn your upper body toward him. "Is that really so hard to believe?"

"Yeah, actually, it is. What are you even in here for anyway? Like what 'problem' do they think you have?"

"None of your fucking business," is your extremely grumpy reply, settling back into your chair and opening your book again in hopes he'll drop it.

"Well, whatever it is, it's not worth sitting in this glorified prison for months on end, I can tell you that much."

Something about the way he's talking really starts to grate on your nerves, making you want to fight more than you want to ignore him. "I'm sorry, would you rather be in actual prison?"

This makes his face drop, a muscle in his jaw rolling with tension. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that coke and meth are illegal, in case you forgot. And can actually get you arrested." Your tone is condescending, tinged with venom. "So maybe you should be grateful to be in this 'glorified prison' instead of a real one."

"Grateful?" He lets out a fake laugh, looking at you in disbelief. "Yeah, let me just try to be grateful to have my every move watched and my entire day planned for me like I'm in a fucking daycare."

An orderly walks in through the double doors to the garden, propping them open in an invitation to move outside for the hour. You're quick to rise, tucking your bookmark into your spot and muttering a dismissive, "Whatever," as you pass.

You're barely off the stone path and into the grass towards your seat when he comes barrelling out after you.

"Hey, I'm not done."

"Listen," you continue forward, talking over your shoulder at him as he marches after you, "I get you're still in denial and everything. But it's not my job to make you accept that you're here for a reason. So why don't you just leave me alone."

A hand grips your shoulder, forcing you to turn toward him. The sun is behind his head from this angle, leaving him silhouetted in light and you standing in his shadow in the grass.

"And what exactly do you think the reason I'm here is?"

"I don't know," you push his hand off your shoulder, tucking your book in against your stomach. "Why don't you ask yourself that question?"

"I'm here against my will because a fucking corporate prick thinks I need 'fixing'," his voice comes out as a hiss through his clenched teeth. His hands tighten into fists at his sides. "Everybody thinks we need to be 'fixed'."

"Maybe we fucking do, Eddie! Did you ever consider that?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see your argument getting some attention from other patients and an orderly standing watch, but you're too caught up in your anger to care.

You jolt in surprise when Eddie's hands grip your shoulders, forcing your attention on him. "Are you even fucking listening to yourself?!"

"Eddie, let go of me."

His hands only tighten, his wide eyes going wild. "They fucking infected you with their bullshit doctrine of what society thinks is right and wrong, but it's not true."

You try to pull away from him but his grip just turns bruising in response, fingertips digging into your skin painfully. Fear takes hold, tears starting to push at the back of your eyes as you plead, "Please, Eddie, you're hurting me–"

"They're hurting you!" He's borderline yelling in your face now, emphasizing his next point by shaking you where you stand. "Don't you fucking get it? They're the ones hurting you by making you think there's something wrong with you!"

An orderly appears beside him and grips his shoulder, ordering a tense, "Let her go."

This seems to shock him as his hands release you mid-shake, sending you backwards onto your ass. You make impact with a yelp, the tailbone pain enough to force the tears that were threats before to start to spill down your cheeks. You're sure that if your hands weren't pressed to the ground behind you, they'd be trembling.

Heels click along stones on the approach, heated and quick. "What the hell is going on here?" Penelope Windsor asks sharply, barely faltering as her heels meet grass and dirt.

You look up at Eddie with tears in your eyes, shocked and terrified.

He looks down, as pale as a ghost, the orderly's hand still on his shoulder as he stares at his own like they don't belong to him.

"Are you alright?" Penelope asks when she kneels to the ground beside you, fancy slacks of her pantsuit in the dirt. A gentle hand hovers over your shoulders, concern evident in the way she looks you over.

Swallowing hard around the lump in your throat, you break away from your stare at Eddie to glance at her and then the ground. "I'm fine."

"I…" Eddie's voice sounds small, scared. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened. I didn't mean to–"

"Come on." Penelope is calm as she interrupts him, more caring and gentle than you've ever heard her. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

You manage a nod before you allow her to help you to your feet and put a protective arm around your back as she leads you over toward the Therapy House.

Eddie stands there with the orderly, hands shaking and tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he watches you go. Hoping you'll look back. That you'll tell him it's okay, that you'll forgive him. Tell him that you will be okay.

You don't look back.

Once you've disappeared behind those birch doors, the orderly finally lets him go. Walks back over to the main hall without another word – leaving Eddie alone to his panic and shame while he stares at your copy of Good Omens from where it sits half open and abandoned in the grass.

Your chair is empty in group that day.

thanks for reading!! please reblog if you liked it and let me know what you think, feedback means everything!! read part 2 here

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #myos ideas #myo4munson

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

Note

I think a critical flaw in the vegan’s user’s argument was that they clearly buckled down on how capitalist exploitation and overproduction factors into milk and meat markets… and then seemed to assume that vegan diets avoid capitalist pitfalls completely.

But you’ve already posted on your blog before about how crop production under capitalism has created huge environmental issues in terms of biodiversity, depletion of topsoil, and sustainability. Meaning even a non-animal diet can (especially on the scale necessary for every human being currently in existence) still create large-scale issues if that diet demands having specific foods in abundance to avoid eating meat.

Like, I’m sympathetic to what vegans want to do, it just feels like they’re ignoring a MASSIVE number of pressing logistical and environmental issues to push that agenda. There’s several intersecting problems here, and claiming humanity as a whole is poised to chuck eating animals completely seems to be jumping the gun.

This is basically exactly what I hope to convey to people. I feel like extremely pressing issues such as topsoil loss, pesticide and herbicide use, and pollution caused by nitrogen fertilizers, not to mention the severe biodiversity impacts of monoculture, are being disregarded in favor of a very simplistic "Meat is killing the Earth" argument.

And I think the "veganism to save the earth" idea is just...distracting, as a movement. I'm glad people are motivated to do it. I don't think it's bad. But we need people to take action beyond just Buy Product. Anyone telling you that the most important action you can take is Buy Different Product does not have your best interest, or the planet's best interest, in mind.

If you're eating a plant based diet, but your only relationship with your food is Buy Product, you are still alienated from the source of your food. You still don't know, and can't respect or care for, the ecosystem or the labor that gives it to you.

My agenda is far more along the lines of "society needs to be organized so more people are directly involved in growing food that feeds their community" than anything to do with animals, but it's clear to everyone who has studied it for 2 seconds that farming needs to change hugely and it's so, so much more complicated than "farming animals is bad, farming plants is good."

Also the fact is that veganism cuts you off from sources of nutrients that have been part of virtually every human society ever, a LOT of people have disabilities, allergies or nutrient absorption issues that mean going vegan isn't possible for them, and people who try to argue with me about this simply Stop knowing how to read when this is brought up. "Some people need animal protein to live" is a reality of the world but people who don't like this straight up refuse to consider it.

I have no food allergies or sensitivities, and I still struggle to eat enough food to live. I lost thirty fucking pounds in college because of stress, the dining hall being shit, and my roommate trying to control my eating habits (long story). Thats like...well over 1/5 of my body weight. Sometimes people Cannot restrict their diet safely.

Like, sure, I 85% agree with the vegans who like to comment on my posts, but the remaining 15% of things they say is completely insane.

And some of them are so out of touch with reality that they will swear up and down that it's impossible for humans to drink milk without someone having to murder a baby animal. They seem to think farming is exclusively some kind of horror show that happens in a warehouse somewhere, and don't understand the concept that "some people live in rural areas" or "it's not uncommon in some places to just keep a few dairy goats that provide milk for your family."

And if they admit this exists, it's like "well, that's not where your dairy comes from, because the INDUSTRY—" thats. that's my point, you can get milk from a farmer who keeps a small herd that is well treated, we should start doing this actually, you can even keep your OWN goat

my ideal world involves "backyard chickens and goats are legal in suburban areas where there's space" because there's literally nothing innately unethical about keeping a couple dairy goats or healthy heritage breed chickens and you can quote me on that and you can even fight me.

That one person (the one who kept bringing up eating poop) (Lord what a sentence to have to write) eventually turned to "Well those sources are wrong because governmental organizations want you to keep eating animal products" which is already well into "conspiracy theory" territory. No thanks.

#weight loss tw

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lace-coffin · 3 months

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Ughhh i love all ur asa things they make me so happy to read!!!!(the ughhh in a /pos way)

But could you do something maybe if u want of asa headcannons where the reader cant sleep without a stuffed toy because it just comforts them to feel safer and they ask him for one over and over and refuses to sleep without one (literally me fr) and they would be violent snap back at him or ignores him till he gets them one and when they do they would become the nicest person ever and start obeying again and snuggle with it all the time AHHHH also the reader would be a house pet if u write about them being at his home instead of the hotel

sorry for the rlly bad grammer or whatever im writing this ask on phone+im trying to be specific because you said it’s easier but im not that good at being specific😭😭

(even if that’s childish to refuse to sleep without a stuffed toy i rlly relate to it so💔)

Thank u sm for the compliment omg!! Don’t worry about being specific if it’s hard for you, feel free to request in any way that makes you comfortable!

It’s not childish at all to sleep with a stuffed animal so don’t feel ashamed, I sleep with my stuffed lamb “lamby” every night and have since I was like 2, she also travels with me!

Asa Emory x gn!reader! Who needs a stuffed animal to sleep

Requests are closed (for now!)

“Please..I’ll be good”

“We’ve been over this, you’re not having her back until you can redeem yourself. End of conversation.”

—

Usually you were a relatively behaved pet, well maybe Asa was more lenient on you than has other “projects” back at the hotel, but well behaved to your standards. You had the privilege of being your masters house pet and significant other, love and submission were intrinsically connected for both you and Asa.

More lenient or not, Asa would be sure to let you know when you were in trouble, and you fucked up. Bad.

You’d been in a sour mood all day, nothing particularly bad had happened to ruin your day however it was like you were itching for an argument, nit picking everything and back chatting your owner, flat out refusing orders just to be a nuisance. It all came to a head during bed time, after squirming whilst being dressed and refusing to get into bed, Asa had already lost his patience with you. Taking it out on your phone that Asa had recently gifted you was the last straw.

During your struggle you’d grabbed your phone, using it as a projectile to ward him off, not only had you missed, you’d watch it hit the mirror, smashing both the glass and screen. After a moment of shock you retreat back into the bed you were vehemently avoiding the minute prior, tail between your legs in panic.

He understood sometimes it can be a lot in this dynamic considering how it came about from less favourable circumstances but today you’ve been pushing him to breaking point. Pushing his buttons on purpose and running from the consequences.

Asa stares back at you from your place in bed, hands flexing and unflexing. He pauses, taking a deep breath and holding for a few seconds to ground himself before releasing and addressing you.

“Sweep it up” he says sternly, gesturing to the dustpan and brush stored in the corner. You grimace but comply, not wanting to make things worse. You clean silently and efficiently, returning to your bed once you finish.

“Better. Now, I don’t know what has gotten into you today and I’m more than happy to talk if you need to but we both know you’ve been deliberately disobedient and destructive. So, I’ll be taking this-“ Asa grabs your stuffed toy sat beside you “until you can learn to behave and treat your things with respect”

Your eyes widen in shock and your fingers twitch with the need to grab it back, you refrain and lace them together, instead settling to give your owner a pouty pissed off look. You knew that having your belongings taken away was an agreed consequence for bad behaviour but it didn’t mean it sucked any less.

“Don’t give me that look doll, you can have her back when you show me you can behave ok? Until then she’s safe with me.” His voice is stern but soft enough to be reassuring, you know he’s not angry at you and he only wants the best for you.

After placing your plushie into his office and locking it he joins you in your shared bed, letting you cuddle up to his side.

Unsurprisingly you ask for her back the next morning despite literally only sleeping between then and last night. Also unsurprisingly he says no. “It’s only been a few hours cricket, you need to show me how you can be good for me, I know you can be such a sweet pup if you try” you huff but agree.

After two more attempts in the span of three hours you declare war. You can’t and won’t wait. In reality you’re afraid, you know you can’t sleep without her, last night was restless and anxiety filled, you didn’t wake Asa because you didn’t want him to think you were being a baby…

Just like that you’re back to being snippy with him, rolling your eyes and talking back. Pretending not to hear him when he calls for you, making everything difficult out of pure spite. You need her back or you know tonight is going to be just as horrible as the last.

“I’m not doing shit until you give her back!!” You bite at Asa, stomping your foot for good measure. All he’d done was ask you to prepare for a bath…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Asa relents.

“What is this all about puppy? You’ve been touchy since yesterday and somehow even worse today, I understand you aren’t happy about being punished but you’re supposed to be showing me how much you deserve her back.” He pauses for a moment, taking your hands in his and connecting eyes. The look on his face is taut but not angry, unsure of what the issue is but concerned with your distress.

“There’s more to this isn’t there pet. Tell me.”

“Can’t sleep” you mumble, eyes darting down to stare at your socked feet on the hardwood flooring.

“Speak up please”

“I can’t sleep without her! I couldn’t sleep last night and I won’t be able to sleep tonight unless I have her back! I know it sounds childish but she makes me feel safe, I-i can’t do it without her” you sniffle

Asa’s face softens, hand cupping your cheek and wiping away a stray tear. “Oh pet, thank you for telling me, I wasn’t aware confiscating her would distress you this much. I know we both agreed to this in the rules but it seems to have touched a nerve and for that I’m sorry. We’ll iron the rules out and then she will be returned to you, sound good?”

You sniffle and nod, leaning into the warm touch of your masters palm.

“I still expect you to take your punishment but we will discuss it later and make sure we’re both comfortable with it” he tacks onto the end.

Sure enough you update your contract and your fluffy friend is returned to you with another hushed apology from Asa and even one to your plushy, making you giggle.

The day finally feels normal again, tears are dried and you’re back to obeying and being your cuddly usual self, practically hanging off your master as he works or cooks, nuzzling into his neck contently. Mistakes are bound to happen but you always figure it out in the end, only wanting the best for eachother, there’s no one you would rather make mistakes with than Asa.

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collection #writing #my writing #slasher fucker #slasher hcs #slasher horror #slasher #slasher fandom #slashers x reader

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lvrmoons · 1 year

Text

When they say something hurtful

Genre: Angst but part two is comfort

Characters: Atsumu, Suna, Oikawa

gn reader but mentions mascara in one?

part two

Surprisingly, unsurprisingly, there were a lot of arguments in your relationship with Atsumu. With his stubbornness, pride, and childishness, arguments ranged from small to big. And this was one of the biggest arguments you’ve had with him so far.

“Are you seriously saying forgetting our 5th anniversary was just a small mistake?! How can you say that! After everything I had planned for us today.” You yelled

“What?! People make mistakes you know, and no one asked you to plan something big. It’s not like this is our first anniversary or something.” He yelled back. It wasn’t often he raised his voice at you, so right now you felt the tears threatening to come out.”

“You forgetting something as important as this makes it seem like I’m not important to you at all..” You say, voice breaking.

“God y/n you know about the big tournament coming up and it’s the only thing on my mind. If you weren’t so selfish and greedy maybe you would be supporting me instead.” He said angrily.

You widen your eyes. You? Selfish, greedy, unsupportive? After everything you’ve done for him?? The tears finally came rushing down.

“Well, if you haven’t noticed everything I’ve done for you... then maybe I’m just wasting my time with this relationship. Sorry Atsumu, but I don’t think I want to spend time in a one-sided relationship.” You left for the bedroom, got a bag, and filled it with necessities for the night. “I’ll get the rest of my stuff later this week.” With that, you walked out and slammed the door behind you.

To be honest, you knew he loved you very much, but at that moment it didn’t seem like it at all and you were blinded by hurt and anger to think clearly, making the impulsive decision to break up.

Part of you wished he would run out of that house and stop you, but the other part knew he was too prideful to admit his wrongs so quickly. So you left for your friend's house and collected the rest of your stuff later that week.

______________

You and Suna were both pretty chill people, joking around with each other and pulling pranks. But this one prank was not funny at all to you yet Suna thought it was hilarious and didn’t think much of it at all

“What the FUCK is your problem!? Do you seriously think this is funny??” You scream, so close to throwing the nearby vase at him. “I actually thought I lost you, my heart almost stopped when I got the phone call!”

“Chill y/n, it’s just a joke, stop being so sensitive, what are you? A baby?” He was lazily sitting on the couch, speaking as if it was no big deal. He had someone call you through his phone saying he was in critical condition after a car crash on his way back from getting the two of you dinner. It seemed so real, you dropped everything you were doing and rushed to the hospital where he was waiting to tell you it was a prank. He had his camera ready to take a picture of you all disheveled with mascara running down your face from all the tears.

“I can’t believe you... I swear to god if you don’t fix that personality of yours I’m going to leave you as quickly as I thought you left me. You slammed the door loudly behind you as you left the house. He didn’t run after you, thinking you would be back the next day but only if he did... he would have prevented that car from hitting you while you were running across the road in tears.

_______________

Oikawa was a relatively happy, go-lucky person unless it came to his inferiority complex. Today was an especially bad day for him after his defeat against Kageyama, preventing his team from going to nationals. Usually, during his bad days, you would comfort him with cuddles and kisses but it seemed that that wouldn’t work today.

“Tooru, you have your entire life left to become the best. High school is only a part of your life... you don’t have to try so hard, you’re already perfect.” You tried to comfort him.

“Can’t you just leave me alone? Ugh. You wouldn’t understand because you don’t HAVE a passion. In fact, you have nothing to live for in life so why are you trying to lecture me. You aren’t going to get anywhere in life without a passion so stop preventing me from reaching my goal.” He hit your biggest nerve, your biggest insecurity. After all those sweet words he said to persuade you that it shouldn’t be insecurity. You knew that he only said it to purposely hurt you and that it wasn’t the truth, but you were hurt and your overthinking caused you to break down.

His face changed when he saw you sobbing and he immediately started apologizing but you stopped him.

“Leave Oikawa. Right now before I kick you out.” Your voice was cold and your eyes weren’t even looking at him. You still had tears in your eyes but you stood up and glared at him with the most menacing look. To afraid to say anything, Oikawa went and opened the door.

“Will we still be ok?” He asked quietly, his back facing you as he held the door open.

“... I don’t know.”

He slightly nodded and mumbled a last apology before the door closed and you were left alone in a silent house.

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #i don't know how to write #hq suna #hq oikawa #hq atsumu #hq drabbles

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evescole · 2 years

Text

eyes on me, babe || s.harrington

summary: steve harrington knew you like the back of his hand - except for one thing: your biggest fear. when he's kidnapped by the russians along with you and robin, he realizes he never wants to see you that afraid ever again.

aka the season 3 russians scene because i love angst warnings: detailed descriptions of injuries, panic attacks, cursing, physical violence/torture, angst she/her pronouns used, enjoy :)

Fear was such a complex emotion that often caused a train of reaction. You could probably list on one hand the amount of times you’ve felt true, heart-wrenching fear in your life. The situation in front of you threatened to move that amount up further and the dread in your stomach was building each second.

It took one glance for Steve to recognize the expression on your face. That was all it ever took for him. One glance and he could read you like his favorite novel. You and Steve were an open book with each other and had been since 7th grade. Then, you almost lost him to his King Steve era before Nancy Wheeler snapped him out of it. Despite all the drama and the arguments, you and Steve prevailed. You knew everything about each other down to the dark details but there’s one thing you’ve never told him.

“Come on, come on. I need a good one. Give me something juicy,” 17 year old Steve Harrington laughed as he leaned against the headboard behind him. “You can’t just say you aren’t afraid of anything. I know that’s a lie.”

It was movie night, a Friday tradition for the two of you when you weren’t chasing after his intoxicated form or struggling with work. More than often he ended up staying over so he didn’t have to return to his more-than-likely empty home. The movie had ended not long ago and faded into a game of random questions that you two played often. Most answers you already knew but you loved to watch him dig himself out of holes and light up at mentions of the kids, especially Dustin.

You shrugged your shoulders slightly from your place resting against his chest. “I mean yeah I’m scared of something but I’m not gonna tell you.”

“Why not! I tell you everything and you’re not gonna tell me your biggest fear?”

You grabbed his hand in yours. “Steve, it’s not that big of a deal.”

He shook his head aggressively from behind you as he closed the gaps and laced his fingers between yours. “But I wanna know! What kind of best friend am I if I don’t protect you from your biggest fear?”

Ever since then, he constantly spewed random guesses to what exactly could be so important you refused to share it. He swore up and down that he would never use it against you for fun but you still wouldn’t give him a slight hint and it drove him mad.

Staring at the large machine the Russians made that was spinning with energy, you tried to not think about the consequences if it worked. The Demogorgons, the Mind Flayer, the Upside Down. It wasn’t something fun to face and the idea of someone trying to reopen the gate was unnerving.

“I don’t get it, you guys have seen something like this before?” Robin asked as she walked in front of you down the stairs away from the Russian infiltrated room. The two of you had clicked easily, both pointing at Steve as a target of fun. You were thankful for her presence to keep your mind from going dark in the midst of the chaos.

“Not exactly,” Steve mumbled quietly as he glanced over his shoulder to the emerging blue light. He wasn’t up for fighting other worldly monsters and really just wanted to be in your room, in bed, cuddling and watching movies.

“Then what, exactly?” Robin countered. She was easily terrified and her confidence was shaken so this situation had her spiraling easily. Usually she could feel some sense of control but she felt helpless down here.

Your feet slipped on the stairs as you ran off the last one while Dustin and Steve attempted to convince Robin that the machine’s success would guarantee world destruction. Steve’s hand instantly caught your hip to keep you from falling as he answered Robin’s questions, unphased by your misstep. Glancing around the room, everything suddenly felt alarming and you took a step back in caution further into his hand.

“Um, Steve?” Erica seemed to pick up on it too as she looked to the boy behind you. “Where’s your Russian friend?” In a true group fashion, everyone’s eyes searched the room for the said missing soldier only to come up empty handed.

You reached over to grab Dustin’s arm just as a bright red light filled the room and an alarm followed. Steve scrambled to the nearest door where you could all see the previously knocked out man was gaining attention from his injury before guards rushed towards you.

“Shit. Shit,” Steve mumbled as he slammed the door shut before turning and pushing you all back up the stairs. “Go, go, go, go, go!!” His fingers grasped at your shirt as he nearly ripped it with the force of his grip.

“Fucking hell, Steve. This is not what I meant by a chill weekend!” You shouted backwards as Dustin guided you through a door. With your luck, it was straight into another room filled with soldiers. You stood frozen for a second before sprinting to the left with a shout.

“Come on!” You held onto Dustin’s arm as he continuously cursed in distress. The stairs in front of you led down to the side of the machine as the room vibrated with energy. Dustin randomly shrieked and pushed the soldier to your left before he continued to run ahead of you.

Stopping just alongside the laser drilling into the wall, Dustin began screaming louder, “Holy shit! Holy shit! Shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!” He shouted one final time, holding the word out for longer as you stared at him incredulously.

“Guards!” Erica yelled, snapping you all out of your staring trance before Steve began to run further down the steps. He didn’t hesitate to shove a man over the railing of the stairs before tossing some empty barrels into more oncoming attackers.

“Steve!” You grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged him with you as you followed Robin’s lead into a hopefully empty room. After a brief headcount, Steve slammed it shut, using his body weight to keep it that way as guards started hitting it from the other side.

Dustin and Erica scrambled behind you to find some other form of exit as Robin pushed herself next to Steve in an attempt to keep the door from opening. Your eyes scanned the room for something, anything that could help. The heavy feeling was creeping in again and you jerked your head around to look at Steve in hopes of reassurance.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You whispered to yourself as you saw the door start to pry open. Without a second thought, you were on Robin’s right side and pushed yourself in between the door and the wall for some sort of resistance.

“Here, come on! Let’s go!” Erica lifted up the grate of an air shaft before climbing in with Dustin hovering behind her. You hesitated at her call, knowing there wouldn’t be enough time for all of you to get over and in before a gunshot went off.

“Go! Just get out of here!” You shouted in return as your feet started to slide beneath you. Your breathing was beginning to pick up and you were quick to try and talk yourself out of the panic attack incoming but it was useless.

Dustin stepped down into the drop of the vent and looked up at the three of you. “Go! Come on, now!”

“No! Just go get some help, okay?” Steve responded. His hands were sweaty with adrenaline and he suddenly doubted his ability as a so-called leader to keep everyone safe. Removing the kids was always the first step in a dangerous situation but knowing you were here and he couldn’t guarantee your safety was enough to send his heart into his throat.

“I won’t forget you!” Dustin screamed before the three of you told him once more to go. The second the air vent cover clanged shut, the door behind your back threw you forward and into the wall on your right sending your head into the concrete wall. A scream almost left your throat at the pain radiating through your skull before you crumbled to the ground next to Robin and Steve.

Guns were suddenly in your face, the sinking feeling of dread now overwhelming as you tried to breathe. Your hands shook as you raised them in the air, mimicking Steve and Robin’s actions as the guards surrounding your small trio.

Sparing a quick glance towards Steve, you tried to convince yourself you would find a way out of this. The uncertainty in his expression didn’t help in the slightest but it only got worse when rough hands latched onto your skin and pulled you from the ground. Your vision blurred with the movement as you tumbled forward.

“No!” You couldn’t tell if you or Steve screamed louder as the guards yanked your arms behind your back to secure your wrists with a belt. “Let me go!” Writhing in their grip, you couldn’t even begin to think of any defense other than biting the hand of whoever was holding your left arm. A sharp sting spread across your face before a gasp escaped your mouth at the sensation. You guys were screwed.

“Don’t touch her! Let her go, she didn’t do anything!” Steve shifted on the floor towards you before a gun pressed harshly against his forehead forcing him back against the wall with a harsh swallow.

The guard holding your arm chuckled at the action, evidently amused. “Weak. Cares what happens to her.” You could understand bits and pieces of his sentence as you silently thanked Dustin for his books on Russian translation. “Take her.”

An ear piercing scream left your throat as they tugged you backwards towards a long hallway. Robin and Steve shouted in panic, both of them too scared to try anything but fearing for your safety. Your cries continued as they pulled you out of view, Steve wincing at the sound like it physically pained him. He never liked when you were upset. He could count the times you’ve cried in front of him on two hands and he swore it hurt him more each time he sat through it and comforted you.

Now, sitting here, with a gun to his head, Steve could only watch as you were ripped from his view with a clear expression on your face that made him sick to his stomach. You were terrified, and there was nothing he could do to help.

The room they held you in was freezing. A shiver ran up your spine every so often as you curled up as best as possible. Every so often you could hear a shout from Steve down the hall causing you to wince at the sound. Your shoulders were tense with the awkward position of your hands being behind your back. All you could do was sit there and wait with hopes that Dustin and Erica would come back soon with some help.

The lock on the door clicked as it shoved open to reveal three Russian guards. Your heart clenched at the sight of blood on their knuckles and you prayed it wasn’t Steve’s or Robin’s. Harsh fingers pressed into your jaw, forcing you to look up into the commander’s eyes.

“He cries for you,” He spoke as he leaned down to your face. “Lies to us to protect you. Shame, isn’t it?”

You twisted your face out of his grip as you glared up at him. “Don’t fucking touch him. I swear to God you’ll regret it.” The notion of Steve being hurt enraged you and terrified you at the same time. You were always so used to his strong exterior that the idea of him being in pain made you want to throw up.

The commander laughed at your attempt to suede him before pain suddenly radiated into the side of your already concussed head. Thrown off balance, you fell back against the bench with a harsh groan as you realized the other guard punched you.

“Oh great, you guys aren’t above hitting females, that’s awesome.” You hissed as your vision blurred again and your ears rung. The metal was cool beneath your back but it didn’t bring any comfort. “Fuck that hurts.”

“Who do you work for?”

Cruel fingers dug into your shoulders and forced you to sit up. You groaned at the movement of your head. “I’m a babysitter. I watch kids. Steve and Robin work at the ice cream place, Scoops Ahoy.” Apparently your answer wasn’t good enough as another aggressive punch had you tumbling to the floor. The copper taste in your mouth told you that one broke skin as you attempted to roll onto your back. “Fucking hell you people are so aggressive.”

“How did you get down here?”

Pushing yourself against the wall behind you, the thought of just screaming at them crossed your mind but you had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. “There was an elevator at the loading dock and you morons turned it on while we were in it,” You explained as you closed your eyes, wishing this would all disappear. “We didn’t mean to, okay? And if you let us go, we’ll act like nothing ever happened and you’ll never see us again.”

The thing about hiding from reality is things caught you off guard. You always relied on Steve to keep you safe when you wanted to relax and shelter yourself from the darkness of life. He was always there too, until suddenly he wasn’t and you didn’t have time to clock the aggressive kick coming towards you. The sound of your shoulder popping out of its socket was sickening but the scream that followed was even louder.

“Holy shit!” You hissed as tears escaped your eyes at the force of the injury. If this was their reaction to honest answers, you feared what would come if they didn’t believe you. Evidently, you were on the path to finding out as two guards pulled you up off the ground and began leading you out of the room.

Digging your heels into the ground, you tried to stop their movements but it was fruitless. The pressure in your shoulder was suffocating and your head rattled with each aggressive movement. “Let me go!” You begged repeatedly, trying to kick out or twist from their grip. Another door was open and in a blur, you were tossed to the floor again with a loud groan. “Ow, oh my God.”

“Y/N!” The concern in Steve’s voice couldn’t be missed as you attempt to keep yourself from passing out. The ceiling blurred above you as you tried to blink it back into focus. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

A loud groan replaced your words as you pushed yourself onto your knees as best as possible. The light burned as you flopped onto your ass before finally looking up at him. The blood on his face was bright against his usually clear skin and you could see bruising already forming on his cheek. Other than that, he didn’t look too torn up as he sat on the metal bench in front of you.

“Stevie…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” He attempted to reassure you but it failed as you recognized a flitter of pain in his eyes. “It’ll be fine, it’s worse than it looks. Wh-What did they do to you?”

You let out a bitter laugh as you forced yourself to stand on shaky legs before sitting next to him. He didn’t hesitate to turn towards you and pull his feet up on the bench like you so both of you were sitting across from each other. The bare skin of his shin and calf muscle rested against yours, a small sense of comfort from the horrendous situation.

“Your cheek is bruised,” He states abruptly as you continued to look at him. He was nervous, you could tell, but he wasn’t as tense as before you were thrown into the room. The exhaustion was clear on his face and you felt the same, you were just glad to be near him again.

“Concussion and my shoulder’s gonna need to be popped back into the socket, no biggie.”

His eyes widened in shock before returning to their comforting gaze as he moved closer to you. The fear in his throat was suffocating and he hated knowing you had to see him like this, that you were even going through any of it. “We’re gonna get out of here.”

You laughed, letting your head rest against the wall behind you. “I wanna believe you, Stevie, but this one’s a bit harder than usual.” You were trying not to let the overwhelming sense of dread and hopelessness consume you but it was hard. Tears burned your eyes as you took a deep breath to calm yourself down. “I just wanted to watch Breakfast Club with you and eat chicken wings and sleep.”

“I know, I know, bubs. And we will, as soon as we find Robin and get out of here. I promise. Gonna make you the best damn popcorn you’ve ever had, m’kay?” You nodded to his soft statement even though you wanted to make a comment about making promises you couldn’t keep.

Your peaceful silence was destroyed when the guards reentered the room. Steve’s body tensed next to you, both of you sitting up straighter. You wished they would just get whatever they wanted over with and leave you alone. At least then you and Steve could come up with some sort of plan in hopes of getting out.

“I ask you one more time, who do you work for?” The commander was done playing around evidently and without giving Steve time to answer, a silver gleaming knife was being pressed against your arm.

“Whoa whoa whoa!”

“Scoops Ahoy!” Steve screamed the answer at the same time as you yelled in shock. “I’m not lying, it’s in Starcourt Mall!”

A harsh punch landed on his stomach as the blade began to cut through your skin. Gritting your teeth in pain, you refused to let out any noise of discomfort. Steve was already blaming himself, you didn’t doubt that, but you wouldn’t let him feel any worse.

“How did you get in?”

Steve gasped for air to answer the question, “I already told you. I told you before. My delivery didn’t come, and my friends and I, we thought that it was left at the loading dock. We went in the room and then it turned into an elevator and then… and then we dropped and next thing I know I open my eyes and we’re in this… wonderful facility.”

The knife dragged through your skin slowly as you twitched in reaction, letting out a small groan that had Steve turning towards you so fast you swore he got whiplash. “No, no, no leave her alone! I’m telling the truth, I swear to God! Nobody knows about us, nobody saw us. You can just let us go alright, and-and we’re not gonna tell anybody about this, okay? Shit happens, life goes on-”

He continued to ramble long enough before you kicked the Russian in front of you in the stomach so the knife clanged to the floor. Blood pooled on your skin before you looked away from the wound with a wince. “Fucking hell! We’re telling the truth! Just let us go!”

The soldiers laughed at your desperation for freedom as you and Steve shared a glance of confusion. There was no chance to figure it out before a guard hit Steve across the face, sending him unconscious as you yelled in protest before darkness spread across your vision and you let the welcoming sleep win.

“Y/N. Y/N, Steve, wake up!”

Robin’s voice echoed in your ears as you let your head fall back with a groan. Someone else was behind you as your skull connected with theirs lightly.

“Y/N! Hi, hi. Are you okay?” Robin’s voice was clear now as you winced away from the light.

“Robs, shhh. Holy shit, I have a bad concussion,” You mumbled as you took a deep breath, ears ringing with her yelling. “Where’s Stevie?”

You tried to feel everything out: the ache in your shoulder and new cut on your arm, you were stuck with your wrists, chest, and thighs restrained against the chair behind you. Headache building each second, you turned to see Robin to your right and Steve to your left, the three of you in a triangle tied together.

“Steve?” You whispered as you tried to nudge him awake. Him being unconscious was the last thing you needed right now, the heavy pit in your stomach finally bursting when he didn’t answer. “Steve, c’mon wake up.”

“He’s been out since they threw you both in here. They haven’t been back since. Said something about bringing a doctor,” Robin explained softly, understanding the light and sounds bothered you without you having to say it.

You almost whined at her words, scared that maybe Steve wasn’t waking back up from the attack they landed on him. “Stevie, wake up. Wake up! You promised me we would get out of here. Wake up. You can’t leave me!” Vision tunneling and chest suddenly feeling like it couldn’t move, you feared the worst. A wave of dizziness washed over you as you tried to breathe through the tension in your throat that threatened to suffocate you. You shook your head to yourself. “No, no, no. C’mon. Not now.”

“Y/N, are you having a panic attack?” Robin asked the obvious question as she tried to look at you. “Whoa, hey, you gotta breathe okay? He’s gonna be fine.”

“Robin, I can’t,” You sobbed as you choked for air in your lungs, feet kicking the ground harshly as you tried to wiggle out. “I can’t lose him. He’s all I have, okay? I can’t, I won’t-”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” She tried to reassure you but without being able to move, she had to rely on her words to do the best she could. “He’s probably just unconscious and worn out. He’ll be fine. If they wanted to kill him, they would’ve already.”

You knew she was doing her best but it wasn’t helpful enough to calm the racing in your heart. There was a point to her statement; if they wanted to get rid of you guys, they would’ve. Regardless, neither you or Steve did well seeing the other in pain.

“Hey, would you stop yelling?”

“Steve! Oh, my God!” Robin’s voice was full of worry as she leaned directly back against his left shoulder to try and see him better. “Are-Are you okay?”

He took a choppy deep breath, “My ears are ringing and I can’t really breathe, and my eye feels like it’s about to pop out of my skull, but you know, apart from that I’m doing pretty good.”

“Good, good, yeah, because Y/N over here is having a panic attack thinking you weren’t gonna wake up.”

“Robin!” You whined in embarrassment at her comment, letting your head drop to your chest. Small drops of blood smeared up and down from the deep slice on your left arm. You wanted nothing more than to just go home with the kids, shower, and cuddle up for movie night. A slight sense of relief came back when you heard Steve speak.

“Bubs,” Steve’s voice cracked as he tried to get your attention, eyes moving to look at you as best as possible. “You okay?”

Tears slipped down your cheeks at his voice and you were grateful he couldn’t see you fully. “Mhmm fine. Good.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Well sorry I’m not feeling very positive,” You mumbled back. Your injuries were starting to get the best of you and the tired feeling was hard to hold back. “Just wanna go to sleep.”

Steve’s leg kicked yours as gently as possible, his hip at an odd angle to reach you. “Nonono, hey, you have a concussion. Stay awake. You better stay awake.” You softly groaned at his word, letting your head rest gently on his shoulder even though it pulled your muscles uncomfortably.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Y/N Y/L/N-Harrington.”

A beat of silence followed her statement before you spoke up. “Did you just hyphenate my last name with his?”

“Mhmm,” She hummed in agreement. “Because you two are rarely separated and you love each other so deal with it. It’s just too trippy, man.”

“We’re not gonna die,” Steve responded to the first part of her initial statement, ignoring the little nudge at your relationship. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? You gotta let me just think for a second.”

Robin ignored his request for silence and kept mumbling, “Do you remember, um, Mrs. Click’s sophomore history class? Mrs. Clickity-Clackity. That’s what us band dweebs called her.”

“God, that woman hated me,” You added. Your headache was getting stronger by the minute and you prayed Steve had some kind of pain relief in his car.

“It was the first period, Tuesdays and Thursdays and Steve was always late. Always had the same breakfast: bacon, egg, and cheese on a sesame bagel. I sat behind you two days a week for a year. Mister Funny. Mister Cool. The King of Hawkins High himself. Do you even remember me from that class?” Steve’s silence was enough of an answer for Robin before she scoffed. “Of course you don’t. You were a real asshole, you know that?”

Steve let out a small sigh before agreeing, “Yeah, I know.”

“But it didn’t even matter. It didn’t matter that you were an ass. I was still… obsessed with you. Even though all of us losers pretend to be above it all, we still just wanna be popular, accepted.”

“If it makes you feel any better, having those things isn’t all that great,” Steve admitted as he let his head drop to rest against yours gently. “Seriously. It just baffles me. Everything that people tell you is important, everything people say you should care about, it’s all just… bullshit. But I guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right?”

“I hope so. I feel like my whole life has been… one big error.” Robin’s response pulled a chuckle from you and Steve both. Somehow in the midst of the worst moments, Robin always brought that feeling out in you. “At least it can’t get any more messed up than this.”

You let out a small noise of protest. “Don’t jinx us, please.”

“I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” Steve continued their hushed conversation. “Really, I do. Maybe you could’ve helped me pass the class. Y/N can only help me so much before it’s impossible.”

“Hey!” You grumbled, “Listen Harrington, sometimes the student is unteachable for the teacher, okay?”

He laughed at your defense, twisting just enough to press a kiss to your temple. “I’m kidding, bubs. You did great. You always do.”

The buzzer of the door ruined the moment as the commander and his guards entered the room again. This time though, a bald man in a white shirt with dark pants came with them and you could only guess this was the doctor Robin was referring to.

The commander leaned down in front of Steve. “Try telling the truth this time, yes? It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful.” His grimy hand ran down Steve’s neck in faux comfort as your best friend tried to lean away, wincing as the Russian’s thumb dug too hard into his bruises.

Your eyes followed the so-called “doctor” who held a large needle full of blue liquid. “Wait, whoa, what is that?” Your question was left unanswered for a moment as he continued to approach Steve. “Stop stop, leave him alone!”

“It will help you talk.”

“No, no, no!” Steve protested as the doctor pushed his head towards you before injecting the needle into his neck without a second of hesitation.

You turned your head as best as possible as he groaned next to you. “Steve, Stevie. Are you okay?” For all you knew, it could’ve been poison and he was gonna drop dead any second.

Shifting his jaw back and forth, he nodded to you. “Yeah, fine. For now.”

Your attention was drawn back to the doctor who grabbed another needle from his tray, turning to you. “Oh, fucking hell.” You tried to kick at his legs to keep him away before someone’s fingers dug into the raw skin on your arm. A scream left your lips, feet dropping back to the floor as fresh blood poured from the wound the same second the needle entered your neck.

“Let go! Get your hands off her!” Steve shouted from next to you as the doctor moved on to Robin before they left the three of you alone in the room again.

“Holy shit,” You gasped in shock as you watched the drops of blood fall down your arm. Thankfully none of you had stopped breathing yet, so maybe whatever they gave you wouldn’t be so bad.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Robin asked since she couldn’t see what you and Steve could.

“Asshole stuck his finger in my arm.” A sharp hiss left your teeth. This day definitely was not turning out the way you thought it would.

A few moments of silence passed between your trio. Nobody knew what to say. Emotions were tense and it had been over 24 hours since you had seen the normal sky and fresh air. You were exhausted, head leaning against Steve’s. You craved the peace and quiet of your room, his soft snores filling the air. Despite the coolness of your room, Steve’s skin was always warm and no matter how much you whined about being hot, he refused to not be holding you while you slept.

“Honestly, I don’t really feel anything. Do you?” Steve broke the quiet with a light attempt at humor.

“No,” You whispered quietly, voice threatening to give out from all the screaming.

“I mean, I… I feel fine,” Robin added, “I feel kinda good.”

Light laughter followed her statement from you and Steve. She wasn’t wrong, you kinda felt like you were floating on clouds. The pain faded slightly and everything just felt easy.

“Morons,” You snorted in laughter, “They messed up the drug.”

“They messed it up,” Robin couldn’t stop her giggles.

“Morons,” Steve called out, “Hey, morons!”

“Oh man,” You sighed with a smile once the laughter died down. “There’s definitely something wrong with us.”

The door buzzer sent a ringing through your ears as you complained loudly in annoyance. You could see the familiar guards and even the doctor had come to greet you again. The clinging of his metal tools as he unpacked his bag caught your attention easily. The twinge of terror in your chest didn’t last very long, blown away by whatever they injected into your body.

“Would now be a good time to tell you that I don’t like doctors?”

Robin’s joke was left without reaction this time as you stared at the shining tools. Now even more defenseless, you wondered if Dustin and Erica were somewhere safe. Maybe it was a good thing they never returned to help. At least you knew they wouldn’t have to see whatever happened next.

“Let’s try this again. Who do you work for?”

“Scoops,” Steve answered bluntly causing you and Robin to giggle, “Scoops Ahoy.”

“How did you find us?”

“Totally by accident,” You answered this time, not hesitating to give them a response. It was like your brain just wanted to talk and it wanted to say anything and everything that came to it.

Some Russian was spoken, something you weren’t sure of. The doctor picked up a pair of pliers from his tool set and stepped towards your best friend. “What is that shiny little toy?” The target of the command was oblivious to the danger heading his way.

“Stevie, maybe he’s gonna cut your hair,” You cackled at the idea of Steve losing his biggest trait. “Ha, you’re gonna be bald.”

Robin practically screamed with laughter seconds before Steve was screaming in terror as the doctor put the pliers beneath one of his nails. “Whoa, whoa, hey, hey. Wait! No! Wait! Wait!”

“There was a code!” Robin blurted, “We heard a code!

The commander seemed somewhat pleased with the information. “What code?” He pushed further.

“The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. Blah, blah, blah. You broadcast that stupid spy shit all over town, and we picked it up on our Cerebro, and we cracked it in a day. A day!” Robin was particularly gleeful as she explained how you ended up here. “You think you’re so smart, but a couple of kids who scoop ice cream and watch kids for a living cracked your code in a day, and now, people know you’re here.”

“Who knows we are here, suka?”

“Uh, well, Dustin knows.”

In a flip of panic you turned towards him. “Hey, Steve.”

“Yeah, Dustin Henderson, he knows.”

“Stevie!” You yelled this time, hoping the force in your voice would make him shut up. No way, no way, was he going to sit here and rat out the little boy you considered your brother.

You hated the way Dustin’s name rolled off the commander’s mouth. “Is this your small, curly-haired friend?”

“Ah, curly-haired. Gread hair. Small. Kind of like a ‘fro. Yeah.”

“Where is he?”

Steve couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “He’s long gone, you big asshole. He’s probably calling Hopper and Hopper’s calling the US calvary. They’re gonna come in here, commando-style, guns a-blazin and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.”

Laughter burst through your lips as your head fell forward. The ups and downs of your emotions were making you dizzy but this was so fun and dangerous and sickening.

“Is that so?” The commander bent down in front of Steve’s face to mock him. You all burst into another fit of giggles that only escalated when an alarm began blaring through the base. The commander and his two guards rushed from the room to diagnose the issue.

The door slammed open as you recognized Dustin’s high pitched yell before there was a zapping noise. The doctor’s figure crumbled to the ground from whatever the younger boy did before his curly hair was popping up in your peripheral vision.

“Hey, Henderson!” Steve was giddy at the boy’s presence in front of him. “That’s crazy, I was just talking about you.”

“Get ready to run!” Dustin’s command wasn’t left up for discussion as he yanked the belts holding the three of you together off. Erica quickly moved to untie Robin individually before Dustin’s hands were suddenly on your knees. “Y/N, holy shit. Are you okay?”

“Dusty!” Your voice was way too excited in his opinion as he tried to pull his eyes from the dried blood on your skin. His hands moved fast to free your ankles and wrists before he tucked an arm under your shoulder and helped you up. Unlucky for you, it was the one the Russians popped out of socket causing you to yelp and jump away from him. “Ow, that hurt!” Your pain was disguised in a fit of laughter as Dustin stared at you in concern.

“We gotta go. Come on.” Grabbing your wrist gently, he pulled you out of the monotone room that had consumed your thoughts for the past few hours. Handling you carefully, he helped you climb into the back of whatever transport they had found, Steve and Robin clambering in after. The door slammed shut, the ringing in your ears making you press your hands harshly against your head. Curling into yourself, you laughed as the cart began to move making you roll around like a ball.

“Jesus, slow down,” Steve’s words were slurring together as he tumbled into your side. His hands were as careful as possible as he tried to get off of you.

“Yeah, what is this, the Indy 500?”

“It’s the Indy 300,” Steve attempted to correct Robin’s statement but failed.

“No, dingus, it’s 500!”

“300!”

They two kept going before bursting into laughter again. Your senses were suddenly overwhelmed, the medicine they gave you blurring together as you dropped into a fit of panic. Head aching, chest tight, you clenched your fingers around your arms tightly as you tried to protect yourself as much as possible. Erica let out a shout before you were slammed against the metal walls of the cart, a cry leaving your lips as you hit your already bruised head. Dustin asked if you were alright but you were too busy trying to choke in air to answer.

More yelling followed before hands were pulling on you, yanking you from your comforting position. Whining as you moved, you let Steve and Dustin practically carry you along slowly into the elevator you came here in.

The chaotic elevator ride went in a blur, Steve and Robin giggling a little too loud for your enjoyment. Dustin was trying to check your best friend’s stability before his finger was poking into his neck where they had injected the drugs earlier. The ride back up to ground level didn't take too long and eventually, Dustin held your hand tightly as he led you from the elevator back out into the fresh air of the night. You thought you were in the clear and could finally go home, take a shower, and go to sleep. That idea slipped away quickly as Dustin started yelling and pulled you back through the side doors of the mall while Erica attempted to corral Steve and Robin. You caught a quick glimpse of the two Russians undercover that were running towards you.

“Whoa!” Steve shouted excitedly as your group turned a corner sharply in the back halls of the mall.

“Where are we going?” Erica asked Dustin, who didn’t give her a clear answer. Soon enough, he was pulling you through the door that led to the movie theater hallway and into an ongoing showing of Back to the Future.

Your feet couldn’t keep up as he ran towards the bottom row, demanding you, Steve, and Robin take a seat. Steve broke out into complaints about the shitty view while shoving someone’s discarded popcorn into his mouth.

“Whatever you do, don’t go anywhere,” The younger boy directed.

“Fine, Dad,” Steve scoffed, earning giggles from Robin. You watched Dustin and Erica shift down the aisle to two other open seats. Steve slumped down aggressively, throwing more popcorn than he could chew into his mouth, mumbling that he had no idea what was happening.

Three minutes went by of your trio staring dumbly at the movie screen before Robin spoke up, “Guys. I’m bored.”

“Me too,” Steve blurted a little too excitedly. You looked over at both of them to see their expectant eyes staring right at you. Dustin’s words be damned, you were bored and hungrier than shit.

Moving quickly to the left, you snuck back out the same hall you had walked through. Food forgotten, the water fountains you found looked much more appetizing as you crumbled against it and chugged down water like you’d never seen it before.

Plopping on the floor, you let Robin take over the water fountain you previously occupied. Steve started conversing with her again but their words faded to whispers as you stared forward. Whatever they gave you down in the lab was causing panic after panic. Slumping forward, you wrapped your arms tightly around your legs as you tried to slow your breathing. You thought once you left that elevator you’d be free, but realizing that the guards lurked around every corner was enough to freak you out, especially when you figured out how vulnerable your group was.

“Steve!”

Your cry had his attention instantly, laughter disappearing immediately as he turned to you. He felt bad, but whatever the guards gave him made him want to giggle again. He clumsily clattered to the floor next to you. “Y/N, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” Hands were on your arms, your bare skin touching his. “Okay, okay. That’s okay, just breathe for me.” He was trying to walk himself through the normal steps. Helping you through a panic attack wasn’t abnormal to him, and he was always willing to keep you from suffering alone.

“I-I don’t know, it’s too much,” You admitted as you crawled into his lap, letting him hold you like a child. Tingling ran through your limbs, numb to the point where you could barely feel the warmth of Steve’s hold on you. “I can’t, it hurts, everywhere. We can’t get out of here, a-and and you, you weren’t waking up and-”

“Y/N, hey. Eyes on me, babe. I’ve got you.” His fingers were soft as they moved your chin to look up at him. He had never seen your body so tense, so rigid. He knew ever since the demogorgon attack that the nightmares were getting worse but you always, always insisted that you were fine.

You cried into his bloody uniform, hands refusing to let go of his wrists. “I was so scared, I didn't think you were gonna come back to me and I’m sorry! I’m sorry I never told you but I didn’t want anything to happen if I did and I’m just so so scared of losing you, Stevie. Can’t even imagine a world without you and I thought you left me alone and… and…”

So, here you were, a bloody mess in Starcourt Mall when the secret broke free that you had hidden from Steve Harrington for so long. Your biggest and greatest fear had always been so close under his nose and he had no idea. Maybe it was obliviousness or just denial but he had never realized how important he was to you.

You were scared, terrified, of losing him to the point where you didn’t want to risk speaking it into existence. Now, it all made sense though. The moments of hesitation when a plan involved him in the front lines, the over worry when he got into a fight, or the simple things like making him dinner and staying in his usually empty house so he didn’t feel alone.

You couldn’t live in a world where Steve Harrington wasn’t yours.

He felt stupid that he didn’t see it sooner, but you were so good at hiding things when you wanted to. He had slowly been figuring your patterns out but this one was just right out of his reach.

“Shh, it’s okay. C’mere.” His arms held you close, chin resting on your head, tucking you into his neck as he tried to bring you any sense of comfort, to let you know he was here and he was okay. You curled closer into his body, trying not to disturb the wounds on his face. “M’not gonna go anywhere, bubs. Promise. Could never leave you.”

Robin couldn’t help but stare, mesmerized at the way the two of you fit together like missing puzzle pieces. She admired it, yet despised it because she never would get to experience it. You were like soulmates, destined to be entwined infinitely in the universe. She begged, hoped, dreamed that someone would show up and love her for her the way Steve loved you. There was a lot of room for her to grow, to open up to the two of you about who she really was and she would, soon.

“Hey,” She cursed herself as she interrupted your small moment, her eyes drifting upwards as she let her head fall back. “Is the ceiling spinning for you guys too?”

You sniffled as you pulled your head away from Steve’s neck to look up at the indeed bright, moving lights. It was gorgeous, a blend of soft yet bright and elegant color.

Your stomach shifted uncomfortably before all three of you were scrambling to the nearest bathroom to rid your bodies of the toxins that had been plaguing you. You tried not to be too grossed out on the bathroom floor and the cold porcelain toilet you were resting your head on. Letting out a small groan, you tucked yourself against the corner of the stall between the wall and the toilet, letting yourself slump in exhaustion.

“The ceiling stopped spinning for me,” Robin said as she broke the silence. You could see the backs of her thighs as she let her legs rest upwards against the stall. “Is it still spinning for you?” Taking a second, you looked up and shook your head no, forgetting that she couldn’t see you.

“Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?” Steve asked from the stall next to you. You could barely see his blue shoes and knee high socks against the multicolored floor.

“Maybe, ask me something,” Robin suggested before changing to a Russian accent, “Interrogate me.”

Steve let out a small chuckle, “Okay, interrogate you. Sure. Um, when was the last time you peed your pants?”

“Today,” Robin answered without hesitation, “When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw.”

A short laugh left your mouth as Steve mumbled something about the drug still being in Robin’s system. You felt fine now - not back to normal but you didn’t feel as floaty and instead, your body was riddled with pain and exhaustion but you were just glad to be out.

“Alright, my turn. Have you… ever been in love?”

“Yep. Nancy Wheeler, first semester, senior year,” He made a noise with his mouth to imitate a gunshot to his heart.

Despite Steve being devastated over the situation, you were so grateful Nancy snapped him out of his King Steve persona that became so overwhelming. You had been watching your best friend disappear piece by piece, his new friends becoming your enemies with their snide rude comments that Steve didn’t really attempt to stop. So, despite Nancy Wheeler breaking Steve’s heart, you got him back and you were more than grateful for it.

“Y/N, did you just OD in there?”

By the time you realized you were missing the conversation, Steve’s body was sliding under the metal door into your stall and shaking you back to reality. You gave him a small smile, chin resting on your crossed arms as you tucked your knees into your chest. Neither of you talked about what had happened not too long ago and you were suddenly ashamed of your reaction.

“That floor’s disgusting,” You muttered as he settled closer to you. His hands were gentle as they grabbed your ankles and released your legs from their cramped position to rest over his lap, fingertips ghosting lightly over your shins. He needed to hold you, to comfort you the best way he knew how.

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He waved his hand lazily towards his destroyed uniform. “Do you wanna talk about it? Robin went to get some more water for us.”

You shrugged lightly, leg twitching as you threatened to curl back into a ball. You felt exposed, more exposed than you ever did to him and usually you didn’t mind it but it just felt weird. Steve noticed, just like he always did, and shifted to sit facing you with his legs slotted beneath yours, his feet resting on the sides of your hips. Tugging you forward gently until your thighs rested on top of his and his hands sat on your waist, Steve Harrington finally looked at you the way he had wanted to for so long.

“I love you.”

Your response was automatic, “I love you, too.”

Steve smiled but shook his head slightly as he messed with you. “Nah, c’mon, babes. You know that’s not what I mean.”

You gave him a half smile, your skin bubbling with excitement. “Stevie, I think we both know exactly what we mean.” You could feel the dynamic shift, both of you could. It was obvious enough but it didn’t feel heavy or overbearing - it just felt right.

“Oh, do we now?” The smirk on his face was smug but it disappeared into the tiniest smile when you rolled your eyes at him and finally leaned forward to close the distance, your lips settling perfectly onto his. Steve Harrington was in heaven, and he was in love. He didn’t know why it had taken this long for either of you to react and make the emotions between you known after so long but he was so glad.

His hands slipped to your lower back to pull you closer into his lap as your fingers sorted through his slightly matted hair. Taking a second to breathe, you leaned back with one hand still lingering around his neck, the other gently brushing the bruises on his face. He was just so real, so close, and somehow still always yours.

The bathroom door slamming open had you shifting your gaze to see Dustin, Erica, and Robin crowding the doorway, the biggest smile on the latter's face as she held water bottles in her hands. Steve moved slightly to see them, his hand never leaving your waist as he turned to see your friends had returned. “Oh, hey guys.”

“Okay. What the hell!”

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ask me anything

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #stranger things 3 #steve harrington x henderson!reader #joe keery #joe keery one shot #stranger things reader insert #stranger things

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groupiegirlie24 · 1 year

Text

Bless Your Little Heart

A/N: Phew, so this is actually the first time I’ve put fan fic out, I’ve always made little blurbs here and there in my notes app but never sat down and wrote one to post. Go easy on me, I’m learning! (Also this is kinda long oops). Also this is actually inspired by lyrics from “Bless Your Little Heart” by The Velveteers! So enjoy!

Pairing: f!reader x Jake Kiszka

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI, mentions of alcohol consumption & drug use, break up, unprotected sex, jealousy, mentions of toxic relationships, smut, penetrative sex, oral (f! &m! receiving), strong language, mentions of a break-up, name calling, spit play, degradation, hair pulling, choking, slapping, blood (barely), dom!Jake. (I think that’s all)...

Bless your little heart…

Waking up from your nap, you look at your phone to see a text from your best friend inviting you to a party tonight. You groaned and threw your phone to the other side of the bed, leaving her on read. On any other Friday night, you’d already be halfway done with your makeup, with your hair done, and your hottest outfit on, starting to pregame for the weekend activities. Except this week was different, you were single. For the first time in a long time, you were completely single. You had been with your ex-boyfriend for awhile, a toxic relationship that was now over. One day you were in love, and the next it seemed like you were at each other's throats all the time.

The final straw was last Saturday, you got into a huge argument when Jake had seen you talking to another guy at a bonfire. To say he lost it, would be an understatement. He ended things with you right there, and left. This was different from the other arguments and fights though. Jake always would come around and call you or pull up to your apartment to figure things out or half-ass apologize. But this time, your phone never rang, and the apology was nowhere to be found. Instead, you got blurry pictures from your friends about Jake out with another girl; his arms around her waist, his tongue down her throat.

Devastated and angry, you hadn’t left your room since. You had barely even spoken to anyone. So it was fair to say, the party invitation was going to be a firm pass. Happy with this decision, you picked up the T.V. remote to scan through Netflix and find something to watch. Five minutes later, you were comfy, watching Gilmore Girls, and snacking on pretzels when your phone started buzzing from the corner of the bed where you had thrown it. Maybe if you ignore it long enough, they’ll leave you alone…right?

On the third call you finally sighed and picked up the phone to see your best friend Kate calling you. Your finger hovered over the green button trying to decide whether you wanted to deal with this right now. Maybe it was an emergency? Ugh. Fine.

“PLEASE tell me you aren’t still in bed.”

“Fine, I won’t.”

“Y/N you need to get up. You need to get your sorry ass out of bed, it’s been days.”

“I’ve left my bed plenty?”

“Bathroom & snack breaks don’t count.”

“Ok fine, then maybe I haven’t so what?”“Come to the party tonight, I’ll drive so you can drink your sorrows away.”

“Kate, really I don’t want to go. I’m bad company, you wouldn’t want me there.”

“But I do, and you’re going. Jake & that bitch Maddie will be there.”

“Ok so I DEFINITELY don’t want to go then, why would I want to see them?”

“Because you’re going to put on your sluttiest outfit and that red lipstick that used to drive him up the wall, take a few shots of tequila for confidence, and find the hottest guy in the room and get yourself back in the game.”

“I’m not sure that’s my favorite idea.”

“Well too bad, I’ll be there in 45 minutes to pick you up.” *click*

So now here you are, hair done, makeup done, and dressed in the sexiest outfit you could find. You know you previously said you hated this idea, but to be honest you’ve come around to it. After slipping into a skin tight black mini dress that cut deliciously low to show off your plump breasts, and swiping on a deep red lipstick…You actually felt good. Your curves accentuated in all the right places, this outfit was dangerous. You felt hot, sexy, and out for blood. As you put my gold earrings in and slipped on your shoes, you heard Kate’s car pulling up and headed outside.

Pulling up to the Wagner house, you realized you might be in over your head. There were way too many people here. Luckily, Kate delivered on the tequila she promised; handing you a bottle and demanding you take a sip. Three tequila shots should do it right? Let’s hope.

Walking through the doors you recognized the normal crowd, most people already drunk or high. The music loud, and the bass so heavy you could feel it in your bones at points. You and Kate pushed through the crowd to find the rest of our group, and as we did you found your traitorous eyes darting around looking for that familiar brown mop of hair, and those deep brown eyes that could turn you into a puddle. When you didn’t find him, you felt a wave of relief. Maybe he wasn’t here. Walking up to your friends, you fell into casual conversation. Slowly, you could feel the tequila sneaking up on you.

After a few minutes, Kate asked if you wanted another shot. Why not right? Fuck it. After the shot, you felt loose. Euphoric even. You grabbed Kate and dragged her towards the dance floor. Feeling the music you slipped into the rhythm, grinding your body against Kate’s and just having fun. You weren’t paying much attention but you could feel eyes on you. Looking up you made eye contact with him. He was leaning against the wall across the room, Maddie pressed up against him so all you could see was her extremely short dress and long blonde hair. His hands trailed down her back, making their way towards her ass. His hair was slightly disheveled, wearing a maroon button up shirt that was completely unbuttoned, his tan skin was gleaming, begging to be touched. Shaking the thoughts from your head, your eyes came back up to meet his. You could practically see the heat in his gaze, and if you couldn’t you could certainly see it in his smug smirk. Looking over your shoulder you realized Kate had started to dance with another guy you recognized, Danny. On the other side of you, you could see Sammy.

Sammy was Jake’s younger brother, but he was also a friend of yours. Sammy was always good looking in an effortless way that made girls drool, but he wasn’t Jake. Reaching your arm out you grabbed onto Sammy and pulled him closer to you. To your surprise, he came up behind you with no hesitation. Locking eyes with Jake, you started to dance with Sammy. Immediately the smirk from Jake’s face dropped. Smiling at the win, you turned to face Sammy and took the opportunity to get even closer. Your chest completely flush with his. He smiled down at you and allowed you to have complete control of this encounter. You grinded with Sammy, allowing your faces to be a mere inches away, giggling and whispering flirtatious comments in his ear.

You continued this way for a few songs until you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, yanking you towards someone else. You whipped your head around to find Jake, pressed against you, his hands on your lower back now & holding you in place. You started to pull away when you realized you could play this game. Maybe it was the tequila talking but you could play, and you could play it better.

“A shame you pulled me from Sammy, I heard he's a good lay.”

“My brother couldn’t handle you.”

“I mean if he’s anything like you then you may be right.”

A smile played on his lips, and the heat in his gaze grew. You knew you were treading dark waters playing this game.

“You put on quite the show for me with him though, might as well have blown me a kiss to make it a little more obvious Y/N.”

“Bless your little heart, you think that was for you? No, I just have always wanted to know how Sammy would feel pressed against me.”

“Oh come on, you know you can’t resist me. You never could.”

“Mhm, where’s your little plaything?”“Maddie? She went home, why? Up for a little three way fun Y/N?”

Disgust clouded your mind thinking of having to share Jake, thinking about another woman’s hands all over the places you’ve claimed a hundred times now. Hiding your disgust, you jumped back into your little game.

“It’s really such a shame you love to hate me Jakey.” You said as you turned to finally face him, making a show of pressing yourself against him. You could see the bulge in his jeans, not fully hard but you could see he was turned on from your banter. Jake wedged his leg between yours so you could feel his thigh pressed against your core. You gasped a little at the sudden contact, desire glazing over your eyes as you looked back up at him. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were also turned on by this little game you were both playing. Lost in thought, you didn’t feel Jake’s hand inching towards your neck. His hand coming around and getting lost in your hair, he grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged you back. Leaving your neck exposed he brought his face close and you could feel his breath on your bare skin. His eyes hooded with lust as he took his time scanning your face.

“You look like a whore tonight.”“You don’t mean that Jakey, I see the way you’ve been looking at me.”

“And how have I been looking at you?”

“Like you want to eat me alive. Like you want to smear this pretty red lipstick I have on. Like you want to rip this dress off me with your teeth.”

Jake gulped and you swore his eyes rolled back a little. God, revenge was so good. You were finally winning, finally had the upper hand. Feeling downright cocky, you kept pushing.

“Such a shame I’m not yours to take though. You weren’t a half-bad fuck.”

No sooner than the words left your mouth, Jake’s eyes snapped open. His expression immediately changed to anger. He spun you around and grabbed your wrist pulling you up the staircase. His grip on you is a little too harsh to be a joke.

“Jake let go of me. Where are you even going?”

“Shut the fuck up Y/N.”

“You're hurting my wrist Jake let me go.”

He shoved you into a room you recognized as Danny’s guest room. He pushed you past the door and slammed it shut. He turned around to lock the door while you stood there dumbfounded. He spun around, his hand flying to your face and clutching your jaw.

“Who the fuck do you think you are Y/N? Hm? You’re nobody.”“Funny. I was someone to you a week ago.”

“Well now you’re nothing but a bratty bitch.”

The words barely registered with you before his lips were on yours, kissing you fiercely. He backed you towards the bed, your mind going a million miles a minute. You did not see the game going down the path of a hate fuck, but you were eager to play anyways. Pulling you from your thoughts you felt a hand press onto your chest and shove you on to the bed. Jake standing over you at the edge of the bed with a violent sparkle in his eyes. He finally leaned down, nipping at your lips hard enough to draw blood. You spat at him, blood and all.

“Oh Y/N, that wasn’t the move to make darling.” He said with a smile.

“Are you gonna be a good little slut and let me fuck you, baby?” he taunted.

You mulled over his words, wanting to spit in his face again but the dripping heat and throbbing between your legs told a completely different story. Jake had a strong hand gripping your jaw in a firm hold, forcing you to look up at him, his face had the same smug expression that made you want to slap it off of him.

“Answer me Y/N. Quickly.”

His firm body pressing into yours, pinning yours to the bed You tore his hand away from your face and gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling his face into yours.

“You better watch your fucking mouth. Now, fuck me or fuck off, Jacob,” you seethed through clenched teeth.

“Oh in time, but until then, consider this punishment.”

Harshly, one of his hands pushing into your panties.

“Oh, and what do we have here?”

He stood back up, his hand wrapping around your neck, holding you in place as he stood over you and pushed the dress up to expose your lower half.. His rough and calloused fingers brushed over your soaked thong, pushing past the fabric and claiming his prize, by collecting as much slick as he can before pulling them out of your panties. He slowly brought his drenched fingers to your face, showing you just how wet you are.

“You’re awfully wet for someone who was, what did you say? Oh not a half bad fuck.”

Jake takes his fingers and puts them at the entrance of your mouth, slowly you part your lips as you look up at him. Trying to maintain eye contact and a soft moan escapes as he pushes the fingers past your lips into your throat. This time you let out a whimper that is muffled by the fingers buried up to the knuckles in your mouth. No matter how hard you press your tongue against the intrusive digits, Jake merely applied more pressure to the slick muscle, shoving his fingers even further until you audibly gagged around them. Your spit coats the length of his fingers and the slender digits slip and slide against one another as he pumps them into your open mouth. A flood of drool dribbles down your chin as your jaw hangs open and a thin stream begins to trickle across Jake’s wrist. You watched Jake’s eyes follow the stream as he removed his fingers slowly from your mouth.

“Now look at the mess you’ve made…” You sat breathless on the bed still, half-naked and while you should feel embarrassed or ashamed of your current state; you were the opposite. You were thrilled, this kind of foreplay was pleasurable for you both. You enjoyed a rough fuck, and you knew Jake did too. As you went to reach for Jake, aching to feel his skin on yours, he backed away.

“What are you doing?”

“Tonights not about you Y/N, you pissed me off. You’re gonna pay that price now.”

You opened your mouth to speak, when Jake placed a hand on the back of your neck, fisting into your hair, pulling you towards him, and suddenly you were kissing him again. His tongue sliding into your mouth, keeping his left hand with a death grip on your hair, he slowly moved his right hand up to cup your breasts. You arched into the touch, whimpering into his mouth.

“So this is the secret to getting you to shut the fuck up.” He smirked into the kiss.

“Everytime you open that pretty mouth, you ruin the mood.”

You tried to sound unaffected, but Jake could tell from the soft moans escaping your already swollen lips, that you meant nothing of the sort; you wanted more. Absolutely needed more. He pulled down the top of your dress, that could barely be called a dress now that it was just black fabric bunched at your waist. Your breasts bounced out from the top of the dress and Jake immediately was all over them. Biting and leaving his mark anywhere he could. Slowly one of your hands snuck into his hair, close to the base of his ears, tugging on it with heavy force; the action rewarding you with a pleasured grunt as he sucked more deep purple bruises on your chest.

“I’m getting impatient Ja-” you moan, clenching your thighs together as he presses his face to your chest again.

“Should I stop?” he asks, tracing a finger over one of the many bruises he’s left against your skin. “Everyone should know you’re taken.” he breathed.

Jake’s tongue drags along your skin as he sinks down between your thighs, spreading them open and staring admiringly at your dripping cunt. He leans forward, his head now settled between your legs, kissing and sucking at your inner thighs. You hold them open wide for him, pussy clenching at his proximity. “Sir, please,” you whimper as you feel his hot breath ghost your core.

“Oh now we’re begging? I thought I wasn’t that good. Tell me how bad I am at this Y/N.”

“I-...I can’t. God I can’t.”

you stumble out, as you let out a gasp when his tongue licks your folds as his nearly black eyes, rimmed with revenge and desire, lock with your own. He’s teasing you, slowly, and he smirks again up at you. His hand was on your right hip, holding you tight (and God, he was strong) as he spreads you open and lapped at you with deadly focus, spinning you stupid at an alarming pace. Jake’s fingers are now dancing along the fullest part of your hip. He locks eyes with you again as he slips two fingers into you causing your hips to buck wildly into him, your hands reaching to grip onto anything you can. He chuckled against the wet mess he had already made of you, making your back arch from the sensitive chill as he put his mouth right above where his fingers were already causing the heat to stir in your stomach. His suctioning mouth pulled back, releasing your soft skin. Spreading your folds again with his tongue, he slowly licked up and down, before swirling his tongue around your clit, earning him a gasp and a tug of his long brown hair. He let his lips wrap around your sensitive nub, suckling at it gently - reeling from your soft moans.

“Fuck, Jacob, don’t… don’t stop… I’m so fucking close” you whimpered, before one last swipe of Jacob’s tongue had you so close to falling apart against his mouth. Looking down at him, his chin glistening with your arousal, you watched the smirk form across his face as he pulled back.

“Did you think I was going to let you cum Y/N?” His eyes were dark with a playful evil.

“On your knees, now.”

You looked up at him ready to protest when you felt his fingers coming to fist around your hair, yanking you up only to tug you onto the floor in front of him.

Your knees make contact with the cold wooden floor and you settle there between his legs. Your cunt throbs when your hands come together at the base of his cock, thumbs and pointer fingers trying to wrap around his girth. He's too thick for even both hands. You swallow down a moan when you feel him twitch.

“Stare later Y/N, put it in your mouth.”

You sit back on your ankles, head bowing to meet the tip of his hanging cock. All the muscles in his body tense and he hisses when you open your mouth and your tongue slides under his shaft. Keeping his hands in your hair he grasps the back of your head, jutting his hips forward so that his dick pushes past your lips, a little groan escaping your throat as he keeps pushing himself deeper into your open mouth. You groan, eyes squeezing shut as you adjust to his size. He's caught off guard when you nibble down on him a little bit. One hand leaves his shaft to reach down and cup his balls. You squeeze them gently and you feel the top half of his body hunch over. His fingers dig into your scalp with unbelievable pressure. The sound of you starting to gag seems to spur Jake on because he starts fucking your mouth faster. His movements start to become erratic as he approaches his orgasm. His breathing is heavy and labored. The hand tangled in your wet hair tightens even more and holds you steady. And you could feel him shaking, his grips on your head weakening as his fingers tugged at your roots. He was getting so close, but before you could feel him release down your throat he pulled away, your brows furrowing in confusion as you looked up at him.

“Up, on the bed.” Shakily standing up, feeling the sting of the carpet on your knees as you winced a little.

“Who do you think you’re bossing around Jake, I’m not a ragdoll.”

“Tonight you are, you’re a little slut of a ragdoll.” He whispered, leaning closer to your ear. You could feel the heat of his breath ghosting the shell of your ear. His breath burns every inch of your skin, instantly causing the pool of wetness in between your thighs to collect again.

“Now, get on the fucking bed and maybe I’ll consider letting you get even slightly close to cumming tonight.”

Part of you wants to retort but the thought of him leaving the room with all your pent up sexual arousal stings more than you’d like to admit. So you lean back, lowering yourself onto the bed behind you. Your scowl and eyes remain trained on him as he watches you.

“Spread your legs, present yourself to me like the slut you are.”

He watches your pretty legs spread wide open, small tiny red bites spread over your soft thighs from where his brutal mouth was, your exposed breasts in all your glory, your perky nipples hard, and the dress he had hastily pulled down and up is now resting against your hips.

“F-Fuck get inside of me already.”

“beg.” Jake sighs as he stares down at you, legs open and ready.

“fuck you Jake.”

“You’re about to babe.”

He fists himself as he closes the distance between you two and bumps his tip against your clit making you want to cry, you’re so fucking wet for him.

“Enough teas-” he cuts your thoughts short by plunging deep inside of you and grabbing your hips, raising you up to meet his own. He pulled out just as fast as he entered you, pulling back for a torturous second before thrusting all the way in, and it made your breath falter, the way he filled you up so completely and fully.

“Say it, Y/N. No one compares to me. I’m the best you’ve ever had. Sammy could never fuck you like this”

Your eyes widened as you met his dead serious stare, heated eyes lasered in on your own in return. Waiting to hear your response. There was no way he didn’t already know, and you certainly didn’t need to feed his ego by moaning about it. The way he was stretching you out was near criminal, some kind of sweet agony that pulled a breathy whimper from your traitorous lips.

“Say. It. Now. If. You. Want. To. Cum.” every word punctuated by a hard thrust, causing tears to form in your eyes. His pace was brutal and relentless, he was burying himself deep in you, damn near feeling it in your stomach.

“Jake,” you muttered as his hand came up to spread across your throat, his thumb against your collarbone as he nudged your knees a little farther apart. You arched into him as he cups your breast, teasing your nipple with his calloused fingers.

“You’re the best. No one compares.” You breathed, a devilish grin forming on his lips, but you weren’t finished.

“I’ll fuck Sammy too, and let you know how he performs.” you replied with a smug grin of your own.

With this reply you were met with a heavy smack on the side of your thigh causing a moan to escape your lips. You locked your legs around him, and let your nails trail down his back, not caring if it hurt. He bites your nipple and you squeal as pleasure and pain mixed delightfully inside you. You love spurring on an angry Jake, it makes for euphoric sex and that’s exactly what you’re getting.

“Y/N, if you mention my brother again you won’t cum and that’s a promise. So shut the fuck up and take all of this.”

“Look at you, how pathetic, Y/N,” Jake says as you whine and whimper when he swipes his thumb over your swollen clit. “I know you are slut for my cock.” he grins, looking at you, spread wide on his bed. “How does it feel to have my dick inside? Mine. No one else's.”

His gravelly voice sounds intoxicating as he whispers to you in the darkness, you feel absolutely drunk off the way he’s fucking you. “It feels so good Jake, don’t stop.”

He keeps fucking hard and fast. His hand on your waist trails down to your heat, sliding to your clit. His fingers begin circling the nub in rhythm with his hips. You let out a moan, “Fuck, fuck, Jake.” You feel the warmth in your core starting to unravel, getting closer to your release.

Jake keeps his brutal pace, absolutely pounding into you and he’s not showing any signs of slowing down. “Y/N I’m gonna fill you up.” Those simple words tearing the most pornographic moan from your throat. His fingers on your clit start rubbing faster as his breathing starts to grow ragged, his hips starting to stutter as he gets closer to his orgasm. Your walls tighten around him and he hisses. The white heat inside you grows and soon you feel it flowing over.

“Come for me Y/N, give it to me, cum all over my cock.”

He doesn’t have to wait long before you’re absolutely shaking, eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he pins your hips to the bed and pours into you. His hips stutter as your back arches off the bed, your walls clenching around his dick.

Slowly, Jake pulls out of you leaving you empty and cold. He backs up and stares at you, limp and breathing like a mad woman, still sprawled on the bed. Almost as if he’s admiring a piece of artwork in a museum.

“Filthy, you look absolutely filthy Y/N. Look at you, my cum leaking out of your dripping cunt. It’s a sight truly.”

Speechless, you just stare at him. That devilish grin you love appearing on his face. You watch him as he begins to redress. After putting his pants back on, he reaches down and grabs your still soaked thong and puts it in your pocket. Before you can question it, he’s already reaching for the door handle and turning towards you.

“I’ll hold on to these, maybe if you behave for the rest of the party you can come back to my place to get them back. See you out there.”

With a wink, he was gone. Disappearing into the dim light of the hallway and shutting the door behind him leaving you on the bed, naked and exposed. But you’ve never been more turned on in your life. The only thought in your head being, to find Sammy for another dance.

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