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ttsukiimi · 25 days

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚ F⍣CK HER ‘TILL SHE SORE!

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ He’s not addicted to your cũnt—he swears. He swears even as he’s forced the fourth ōrgasm out of you tonight; and there’s more to come.

★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, choso x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, smut (mdni), tit play, multiple örgasms, size difference (choso), slight còckwarming (nanami), reader referred to as (princess, baby, doll, good girl)

✧･ﾟ𝓖. 𝓢 ✧･ﾟ

Gojo didn’t even know how he even initially found himself inside you—it was like one second he was cuddling closer to you as his eyes glued to the tv, then another your leg was hoisted over his waist as he jerked his hips into you repeatedly. Was it his fault? Had he begged you to let him put just the tip in? Yes.

But you had given in, and that in its own was your mistake.

“Stay still, princess, wanna give it to you good,” he whispered in your ear, the way his shaky breath fanned past your neck causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin. You nodded, though it wasn’t a promise, and tried to take each passionate thrust of his girth he gave to you.

You were clutching the couch pillow for dear life, whining as you felt euphoria rock through you so pleasurably for the umpteenth time that night. The movie playing had long been forgotten—only serving as background noise, and to Satoru a nuisance since the sounds drowned out your heavenly moans.

He huffed into the skin of your neck, determined to now make you louder, and a hot slap landed on your left cheek, effectively coaxing a loud yelp from your lips. “Mh—!”

And you were sensitive by then, his seed dripping from your battered cunt, your body shivering and thighs quivering, but even then he was set on urging one last orgasm out of you.

Or two.

Hell, he couldn’t even promise it wouldn’t be three. But he just needed to stay inside of you.

Satoru’s hands came up from behind you before they latched onto your chest, groping your tits as he muttered lewd words in your ear.

“You like when I fucking play with these pretty tits, hm?” He kissed your shoulder, and you felt a smile form against your skin as the only thing you could let out was a weak whine—too drunk on his dick to speak. Satoru groaned at the sound, his lips finding your pulse point as he spoke.

“Always so dumb once I get inside you,”

✧･ﾟ𝓒.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Choso doesn’t have an exact idea of why he loves being buried inside you so much; perhaps it’s the way you sound, the way you feel, or the way you look—tears in your eyes and all—but he does know that he’d die happy if that meant he was inside you in his last moments.

And he absolutely adores every minute that he is.

Because with how much your greedy cunt is pulsing around him, and your manicured nails are scratching red lines down his back, Choso thinks he’s really found heaven. Right between your legs.

“Baby, slow down, Cho,” you whined, your sight obscured with tears though you could still make out the image of his sculpted body over yours, and he’s so big compared to you.

Sometimes he might forget that—but could you blame him though? Anyone would forget about some mere size difference when inside your addictive pussy, and he proved to be that anyone.

Choso leaned forward, and in the process his hair fell forward, framing both yours and his face. His hands ventured up your body and found their place on your chest, squeezing the meleable flesh.

“‘S okay, you can take it,” he mumbled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, uncaring of the slight drool dribbling from the side of your mouth. With each thrust the course hairs at his base tickled your clit, stimulating you in a way that felt so good your whole body was quivering with pleasure.

“Just..one more, baby,”

✧･ﾟ𝓝.𝓚✧･ﾟ

Sometimes Nanami finds himself wondering just what you do to him, how you’ve changed him in ways he couldn’t himself in the past years you’ve been together. He can't help but smile when he sees your infectious smile, and he melts when he hears your sweet laugh.

But, above all, you've created an addiction in him. One that he seems to think about every waking moment; even at work, and that’s new territory for him.

What’s worse is that you know. Always teasing him about how pussy drunk he is, how he’d really do anything just to be inside you—not like he’s denying that—but he can’t retaliate with the way the tips of his ears burn pink. So, he’ll prove it.

“Kento, what’re you—“ you cut yourself off with an uneven breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head in tandem with the way he pushes himself into you.

His strong arms are wrapped around you, keeping you in place, but he strangely doesn’t begin to move. The reason being—well, he’s testing himself. His resolve, his patience by not moving a single inch, even while being compressed by your tight warmth.

Which is proving to be a challenge already for Nanami.

“Proving to you that ‘m not—“ he halts, groaning and gritting his teeth as you slightly shift, causing a grin to flourish on your face.

“That you’re not what?” you retort, pushing your hips back onto him, taking him in deeper than he already was. Your hand reaches back and caresses his face, cooing above his lips. “Know you wanna move. ‘M not stopping you either, ken.”

You’re so close to his lips Nanami could move an inch and they’d touch, but he won’t, of course. But…when you’re fucking yourself on his cock, moaning out for him to hear, to tease him, Nanami thinks maybe there isn’t anything to prove.

Maybe he is drunk on your pussy.

✧･ﾟ𝓣.𝓕✧･ﾟ

Toji knows of his slight compulsion towards your pussy. His tendency to always want to be inside is truly something that needs to be studied—because there’s absolutely no way his sex drive should be this significant.

Admittedly, he is aware of his addiction, but will he take any action to try to change his behavior? No. That then becomes your problem to tackle, but you have the perfect solution.

“A what?” Toji mumbled, licking the scar on his lip as he creased an eyebrow upwards in confusion. You were sat on his lap, your arms looped around his neck and you began to speak.

“A Sex ban, Toji.” you attempted to suppress your grin when you saw the confusion on his face only deepen, and a big hand came to cup your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“‘M not for all your little games today, doll. Got a mission tomorrow and y’know what that means.” he sighed, his free hand holding your waist, slowly sliding to the waistband of your shorts and beginning to pull them down.

“But, really baby, we—you need a break.” you protested, but just couldn’t counter back with the way his rough and thick fingers were already playing with your folds, gathering your essence.

Quickly, his lips were on yours and that shut you up, which gave him time to free himself from his sweats and enter you in one, swift motion.

He wasted no time in holding your hips and bouncing you up and down on his cock, a smug smirk on his lips as he looked at the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You weren’t one to talk about a sex ban when you could hardly even let him go on a mission for more than 2 days without complaining about how much you missed him and his magic dick.

“Now ya just be quiet and take what I give you, yeah?” he breathed in your ear as his big hands groped your tits, fingers playing with your hardened nipples. The pleasure coursed throughout your body so deliciously, already causing your thighs to begin quivering and your pussy pulsed around him, greedy to suck him dry.

“Good girl,”

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ddarker-dreams · 7 months

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a little fluff blurb for bladie from my google docs !! reader here is fem.

Blade almost took it personally when you failed to notice him.

His presence in your room certainly stands out. Everything about him contradicts the soft pastel colors, abundant flora, and cute finishing touches. Nothing in the universe aside from your kitchenette registers. You hum along with the song playing in your ears, waiting for your tea’s timer to go off.

He walked in when the countdown read five minutes. Presently, it’s at two.

You’re wearing dangerously short pajama shorts and an old t-shirt, the band’s logo faded out from years in the wash. He’d considered making himself known, but watching you frolic about proved too tempting. You have your back turned toward him, entirely oblivious, stuck in a little world of your own making.

Creepy as it may be, Blade considers it soothing to stare at you. Therapeutic, even. A way to unwind from the blood-filled jobs that beckon his mara out to play.

A wicked idea forms in his head. Going without you for so much as a day is enough to seriously dampen his mood. Normally, it’s his enemies that reap the consequences. He’ll miss their vitals just enough that they’re left to go into shock and bleed out, rather than a swift, merciful death. What can he say? It’s their fault for existing and cutting into his time with you. That’s on them.

He stalks over, movements akin to a mountain lion that’s located its unsuspecting prey.

You’re lifting the teabag out a few moments early. He’s close enough to double as your shadow, the corners of his lips twitching upward from anticipation.

The second your timer goes off, he strikes, large hands settling on either side of your hips. This unexpected contact earns immediate retaliation. You actually squeak, much to his surprise (and amusement). Your response doesn’t end there. From instinct, you twist your torso around, ready to ward off the threat.

Maybe it’s because you have an object in your hand, or maybe it’s because your subconscious knows you’re in no real danger, but you don’t materialize your weapon.

Instead, you try thwacking him with your dripping teabag.

He easily catches your wrist, thwarting your assault. It takes you all of a millisecond to understand the situation. You use your free hand to slowly remove your in-ears. He can’t help it — your pinched-together eyebrows and scrunched-up nose makes him chuckle. This worsens his crimes from your perspective, which you make evident by a non-threatening glare.

“Nice weapon,” he drawls.

“Hey, that’s— that’s unfair,” you complain. “I wasn’t expecting an ambush.”

Blade raises an eyebrow. “Is it an ambush if you expect it?”

“Yes? No. Maybe. Quit looking at me like that, I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Mhm.”

He plucks the teabag from your grasp and throws it away. Meanwhile, you remain frozen in time, only moving enough to cross your arms over your chest. The wrath you try directing his way is largely ineffective. Your miffed countenance is akin to a bunny scowling.

“I was looking forward to your return, but I’ve since changed my mind.”

“Mm.”

He hoists you up onto the kitchenette’s countertop. The way the soft flesh of your thighs expands against the marble tempts him, but he knows he won’t be getting anything until your faux frustration is appeased. It won’t take much — or long. He just gazes into your pretty eyes, his bandaged hand cupping your face, the pad of his thumb massaging your cheekbone. You melt for him almost immediately.

“Everything alright?” You ask, your arms finding their place around his neck.

To Blade, everything’s more than ‘alright,’ because you’re here. Treating him with care he doesn’t deserve, and love he deserves even less. He used to worry he’d taint you, like clear waters turning opaque from filth. However, it’s as Kafka once said, likely pitying his lovelorn self.

“Shouldn’t you let her decide that for herself?”

For reasons genuinely beyond his comprehension, you decided he was worth the trouble.

His gloved hand settles on your thigh. The irony of how he caresses you with the same hand responsible for hundreds, if not thousands of deaths isn't lost on him. Since regaining a semblance of consciousness, that's all he thought he was good for. Bloodshed and slaughter.

He observes how you shudder through lidded eyes.

You don't look at him as if he's a monster. You should, he often thinks, because he is. There's no sugarcoating the truth. He's become everything he once swore to eradicate. Mad, vengeful, immortal. A product of the Abundance's perversion of the lines separating life and death.

And yet, all those centuries, all that suffering led him to you.

You aren't the light at the end of the tunnel — you're light in its entirety.

Blade is greedy when he slots his lips against yours. He's greedy when he pulls you closer, his bandaged hand tilting your head up, allowing him to devour you with ease. Your scent, your taste, your little laugh at how unabashedly eager he is, everything blurs together and threatens to leave him breathless.

How can he pull away when your legs wrap around his waist? When you thread your hands through his hair, reciprocating his ardor like he's worth even an ounce of your affection? He isn't, he's nothing compared to you, a ghost of a man who can't cross over into the afterlife.

Sometimes, he no longer wants to. Not if you're on this side of eternity.

"Well?" You pull back a few inches from him to ask. As pretty as your smile is, he likes your lips best when they're against his. "You gonna answer my question?"

He furrows his eyebrows together and tries kissing you again. Talking about emotions in any context isn't his forte, you both know that. He's always preferred to express himself through actions than words. However, when you deny him the pleasure of your lips a second time, impatience coils inside his chest.

He huffs.

"The best," he deadpans. You roll your eyes yet laugh anyway.

"You almost pout more than I do," you tease. For this infraction, he gives your thigh a pinch, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh a little too much. "I just worry, y'know? You become such a sourpuss when we're apart for any length of time."

You aren't wrong, but he'll keep that to himself.

“Okay, okay, stop glaring. C’mere.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. He takes you up on your offer the second you’ve finished making it.

Blade might not know how to tell you how much you mean to him, but that doesn’t mean he can show you.

#blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade brainrot #my stuff

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rustedhearts · 6 months

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hard learnin’ (gator tillman x fem!reader)

summary: gator punishes you for flaunting what (isn’t) his.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ main masterlist

tags: spanking, oral (m receiving), spitting (a lot of it), canon-compliant misogyny, mean!gator.

for @loveshotzz <3

the tillman barn. early morning.

“I told you—not to—do it.”

Every few words came with the snap of leather on flesh, cracking off the barn walls and exciting the horses stomping in their stables. Your fingers gripped the metal of the corral with all their might, digging into your chest against your will. Every strike of his heavy duty belt had you lurching toward the dirt and hay. Your socked feet were picking up pebbles, unprepared for an assault at such an early hour.

But you did get yourself into this mess.

“M-m so-sorry,” you hiccuped, listening to the corral clang on its hinges after a particularly rough hit.

Gator huffed, glaring down at your swelling, discolored flesh. “Yeah, now you are. Weren’t so sorry last night, were ya?”

And you weren’t. You weren’t sorry when you got dolled up in a tight little black dress and called up your friends. You weren’t sorry when you scampered down to the dive and climbed up on the bar to pour drinks. You weren’t sorry when you let that guy drag you to the dance floor. You weren’t sorry when you drunkenly scrawled some version of your phone number on a napkin and tucked it in his pants.

But you were sorry now. Gator always made sure you were sorry.

“Asked you a question, brat.” Another hard strike, slicing through the air and down on your bare ass. Your pajama pants sat around your ankles.

But the thing about Gator? He acted like you were his. His property, his possession, his girl. Yet when the time came to possess you, to have you—he fell short. Never claimed you as his girlfriend, never promised long term commitment, never made you feel like it was true. He always left you hanging.

You sniffled, willing away hot tears stinging in your eyes. Your nose burned and tingled, and you kept glancing toward the door of the barn in hopes Gator’s daddy wouldn’t come waltzing in to hold witness to your humiliation. He heard the sounds of Gator’s punishments once before and patted his son on the shoulder later at dinner. Gotta keep ‘em in line, son. You despised it. How him and his father thought they could do whatever they wanted because they ran the town.

But you loved him. It was your own damn fault.

“Shakin’ like a fuckin’ leaf, sweetheart,” Gator chuckled. He paused a moment to spit on the dirt: a sharp smack of saliva landing near your feet.

“H-hurts,” you whimpered, knees buckling to ease the sting.

Gator huffed, eyes rolling behind you. He gave you a mild lash on the thigh in reprimand. “Get back up.”

You stomped your socked foot, whining into a pout. “I’ll make it up to you, Gator, please!”

The buckle of his belt—a wide silver embellishment—tinkled as he let the leather droop. He cocked his head, inspecting your welts and swelling bruises as he thought. He fished into the pocket on his thigh and pulled out the strawberry-kiwi vape, taking a quick, hissing hit. He sighed as it furled out, tongue clicking.

“Fine. Since you’re just gonna keep complain’ anyway. C’mere.”

You shakily lifted from the corral bars, spinning around. Reaching down, your fingers curled into the elastic band of your pajama pants, but Gator whistled sharply.

“Hey. Uh-uh, leave ‘em.”

Huffing, you sulked and dropped your hands. “Why can’t I—“

“You talkin’ back?” Gator cocked his head again as he stuck the vape in his mouth.

You watched his cheeks hollow with a deep inhale. The mechanical vape click made your blood boil. You wanted to hike your pants up, march over there, and spit in his face. But his shoulders looked so broad in that stocky black sheriff’s vest. His hair was recently trimmed, lined up neatly around his ears and neck. The way those camo pants hugged his hips made you clench. And the belt still sat in his hand, silver gleaming menacingly in the soft yellow of morning light.

With hot cheeks, you huffed again and looked down. “No.”

Gator tucked his vape back in his pants and spit toward the left. His fingers drummed on the stiff lining of his vest, and he nodded down toward the ground at his feet.

“Well…it ain’t gonna suck itself.”

Your knees thumped to the hard ground instantly. You crawled his way slowly, glaring up at the smirk on his face when he had the audacity to shuffle back just to make you come. He chuckled, but stayed in place until you stopped at his feet. You sat back on your heels in the dirt and unzipped his pants, slipping him out into your palm.

“Ooh, shit. C’mon don’t play w’ it, baby, open your mouth.”

He hooked his hands into his vest when your mouth closed over him, chin tipped back toward the roof of the barn as he groaned. Warm pleasure enveloped him, but on the ground, you were freezing cold. Your ass and thighs ached pressed against your feet, fingers growing numb against his thighs.

But maybe if you did a good job, he’d be sweet again. Maybe he’d hold you tonight when he got home from work. Maybe he’d kiss you all over like he did sometimes, tickle you when you pouted too much. Maybe he’d be kind.

You worked your mouth over him languidly, and Gator groaned without shame. He dropped his belt to the dirt with a thud and wrapped his hand in your hair, guiding you around. You knew just what kind of suction, just how much tongue, how to look at him and where to put your hands—you knew him so insanely well. It was a goddamn shame.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, hips jutting toward your mouth. “Suck that dick.”

He grunted as he thrust in and out of your mouth, reveling in the wet squelches of your constricting throat. He dropped your hair and you heard the click of his vape again. The fruity smoke tickled your nose when he blew it down on you.

You lifted your eyes, blurring hot with tears. And as you found Gator’s pink-cheeked face, his own eyes hazy with pleasure and bliss—he opened his mouth and spat one out.

A wad of warm spit sizzled on your cheek, and you flinched at the smacking impact. Your mouth stilled around him, suction loosening.

“Oops,” Gator chuckled above you, sticking the vape near his mouth again. “Did I getcha, hon?”

Though a humiliated fury surged in your chest, you kept your lips closed around his cock and did your best. He wanted you to get irritated with him. He thought you were so cute when you got all riled up. And he liked being the one riling you.

Gator’s thumb pressed into your cheek, massaging his spit into your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed on their own will, soothed by his touch. He was rarely soft like that. Your involuntary moan had him bucking into your mouth again, hand moving to scrunch in your hair once more.

“Fuck, you’re a dirty bitch. No better than…an animal,” he groaned. “God, fuck ‘m gonna cum.”

You put him as far back in your throat as you could manage, nose nudging the furry patch on his pelvis. The vibrant, neon green of his vape entered your periphery when it pressed against your cheek under his hand, both of them coming to brace your head now. Gator liked you to swallow his seed. He thought it was dirty, disgusting—but that’s what he loved about it.

“B-better—swallow it,” he ordered through tight teeth. You bobbed your head in compliance, watching the veins in his neck strain around the collar of his t-shirt and behind his vest.

He pinched his eyes closed, jaw agape, nose scrunched up—and a strangled moan sliced through the barn as he spilled into your mouth. It slipped down your throat in a thick, sticky coating that had you cringing. He huffed and squirmed as he softened on your tongue, and you suckled at him absentmindedly as he slipped out.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he patted an open palm on your spit-sticky cheek. You swallowed again to ensure it was all down, and waited for him to give you the okay. God, your ass was still burning.

Gator sniffed, reaching down for his belt. He was just slipping it through the loops of his pants when a distant clang caused his head to snap up.

“Fuck, get up. My dad’s gonna be out soon.”

You wobbled as you got to your feet like a brand new fawn. You peeled your pajama pants back over your hips and secured the strings, doing your best to brush off the dirt and hope it didn’t stain. The soft fabric did little to muffle the acute sting of Gator’s strap.

“Come on,” he hissed, yanking your arm to pull you close.

He kept a close eye on the front of the barn as he hurried you out back, dragging you through the dirt the whole way. Roy Tillman would have his few hours on his horse at the ass crack of dawn like he always did, and Gator would wait until he was told what to do to make his daddy happy again.

You wouldn’t see him again until near morning.

“You’ll wait at home,” he instructed, heading toward his truck. “You hear me? No runnin’ around.”

You huffed as you slid in, crossing your arms. The truck jostled when he slammed the door after him, and the engine started up with a coughing growl. He whipped out of the dirt patch driveway, heading down the trail toward your house (where he yanked you from your bed not too long ago).

“Why can’t I just stay at your house?”

Gator scoffed, putting his vape in his mouth again. “Dad don’t like strangers around.”

Stranger somehow stung worse than anything else. He just spent an hour attacking your ass for going out without him—but you were still a stranger?

“Your dad’s an asshole—“

Gator slammed on the brakes, sending you hurtling forward against the seatbelt. Once you fell back, his hand latched to your jaw, fingers pressed tight into your cheeks. The look he fixed you with was sharp and mean.

“You watch your fuckin’ mouth.”

He tossed your head away harshly, and you glared down at your knees. He shook his head toward the windshield as he took his foot off the brake and sped down the street.

“Looks like you still have some learnin’ to do.” Gator hollowed his cheek around that stupid fruity piece of plastic again. The smoke slipped into the cold autumn air.

“Don’t worry. I’ll set ya straight, hon.”

#rolly!#gator tillman #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fic #gator tillman fanfic #gator tillman fanfiction #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman x y/n #gator tillman x reader smut

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scudslut · 2 months

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Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

stay with me

daryl x fem!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/ptsd

a/n: absolutely love me some good fluffy angst, thank u nony❤️ i hope you like it:))

As much as you tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable situations runs would put you in, the blood-chilling reality of it never got any easier. No amount of mental prep could stove off the sounds and smell of the dead, nipping ravenously for a taste of your sweet living flesh.

Of course, over time you’d learned just to shut your brain off and fight. Fight as hard and tirelessly as you possibly could, but mistakes could still be made. Shit happened, whether it was your fault or not.

Hours earlier, a group of you went a few miles east of the prison; Daryl having spotted a little strip a few days prior, not too overrun that he thought might be loot-worthy.

It was a simple run really. Keep close, hit a few shops in and out, then head back home. That’s it. Follow the plan, get as much useful shit as possible, and get the fuck out of there. You guys had it down to a science at this point, runs becoming so second nature it was almost too easy to let your guard down nowadays.

“Hey D, I’m gonna go check the storage room back here. Might have something we could use,” you voiced to your partner a few isles down, still keeping your tone as low as you could.

“Gimme a sec, I'll come help ya,” you heard him say but you kept moving. You two had already cleared the main area, you could handle a walker or two if there actually was any behind the small door. You figured you would’ve heard something by now, some sort of banging or grumbling to announce their presence, but there was nothing, the coast presumably clear.

You should have waited.

Crossing the few miscellaneous isles you reached the back door, giving it a small rattle. Still complete silence, not even the faintest groan or shuffle. Knife at the ready, hand clamped over the cool metal handle, your heart rate picked up a notch as it always did before opening into the unknown.

“You got this, come on,” you muttered to yourself, before throwing the door open, bracing for attack. The door flew wide, only to reveal a dark, empty room. Squinting through the dimness, a few high, dusty shelves were visible, stocked with all sorts of canned goods. Fuck yea, that was certainly useful.

“D! Come look what I found!” you rasped, dropping your knife into its holster and shuffling in. You unslung your backpack from your shoulders, digging through it for a flashlight excitedly. It’s been so long since you’ve found this much canned food, surely enough to keep the group well stocked through most of the winter that was approaching. A loud creak from the left caught your attention as you sped forward. Hands finally finding purchase on the flashlight, you flicked it on, scanning across the room to the sound.

Dust caked the air, making the already dark room fuzzier and your eyes took a minute to adjust. You took a few smaller steps closer, peering wearily ahead and then you saw them.

Beady, soulless eyes staring back. A whole rickety staircase of them, heads turning one by one to the light source in your hand.

“Oh fuck.”

There had to be at least 10 of them that you could see, the top of the stairs pitch black and unrevealing.

Your feet stumbled backward, hands desperately reaching for the knife at your hip, dropping the flashlight in the process. It rolled and caught under your heels, knocking you on your ass as the corpses advanced, jaws snapping.

These were those moments. When you felt your heart in your throat, brain stuttering on action. Time moved so slowly that the fragments were almost visible and every thought screaming in your mind sounded like gibberish. You know you should move, is that what it was screaming?

The first one got to you, grabbing your leg trying to crawl up and finally, you were kicking, scrambling, grabbing onto the knife and slamming it into its skull with a loud squelch.

“Daryl!” you yelled. You needed him. Now.

3 more dropped before you, slinking towards you and you were trapped — the first corpse lying heavily over your midsection.

“Yea, yea girl. I heard ya,” you heard him respond, still sounding a few isles away.

No no no, this was not how you were gonna die. Not today. Please.

You kept stabbing, each kill taking everything out of you as you struggled against the body weight atop you. They just kept piling, you could hardly feel your legs anymore, the circulation surely cut off below your knees. And more were coming, a never-ending stream of hunger.

Another one landed before you and you had just enough time to catch its shoulders before it was inches away, snapping at your neck. Your arms burned, tears welling in your eyes as you realized this could be it. You didn’t know how much longer you had before they gave out and rotting teeth would be sinking into you, tearing you apart.

The walker kept snapping, so close you could see the layers of rotting flesh peeling from its face. You had been close to walkers before, had stared into the lifeless eyes too many times to count, but this was different. More were coming and the face in the reflection of its eyes was barely recognizable — terror painting every feature you’d known on you distorted.

The bones cracked in its left shoulder and it dislocated, dropping down to centimeters from your skin.

“No,” you sobbed quietly. Daryl wasn’t going to make it, you knew that. He was going to walk in and find his girl as dinner. You hoped he just booked it, and didn’t waste his time trying to save what would long be gone.

The walker fell limp in your arms and you flinched harshly, expecting excruciating pain to follow as it bit. But there was nothing.

“The fuck are ya doing! Get up!”

Daryl was suddenly right before you, ripping each body off your aching limbs and you were now acutely aware of the larger pile by the stairs, all with arrows and stab wounds littering their heads. When had he gotten in here?

You didn’t hear his words, adrenaline coursing so loudly through your system that all that could be heard was a loud, shrill ringing.

“Goddammit girl, wake the fuck up!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders in an attempt to lift you. Your brain caught up then, as he harshly placed you on your feet. Walkers scattered the floor around you, and a grumble at the stairs announced it wasn’t the last of them.

Daryl reached down, grabbed your dropped items, and shoved them in your dumbstruck hands. “We’re gettin’ outta here, now,” he seethed, dragging you along and slamming the door behind you both, crossing the lines of isles quickly to the front entrance.

The fresh, afternoon air hit your nose in a gust and the last of the fuzz chipped itself from your senses slowly.

“Hope yer fuckin happy with yerself. Can’t ever listen to a goddamn word’a mine, can ya?” Daryl quipped beside you. His eyes were slits as they dug into you, so fuming you could see the heat radiating off his skin in the early autumn brisk.

He was angry at you, you knew that. But you also knew it was because he was scared. Hell, you were fucking terrified to stone back there, but if you wanted to calm him down at all, you knew you had to act unfazed.

Gathering any remaining wits about you, you took a deep inhale, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting them.”

He didn’t respond, wouldn’t even look at you anymore as he began to pace the graveled parking lot.

“Hey don’t stress Dar. I’m alive, we’re good,” you attempted to soothe further.

“Don’t stress? Yer a real piece a work, y’know that! Always fucking up everyone’s shit cause ya don’t wanna use yer brain, huh?”

Well, that did not go as you expected.

The rest of the group had started shuffling out of the other shops around you, making their way to the vehicles.

“Jeez, you need to lighten up,” you brushed past him, head high. You couldn’t let his words affect you, not with all the other emotions coursing as well. You didn’t understand what he meant. You had never put anyone other than yourself in danger, how could you possibly be fucking over everyone else?

You decided to wait in the car as the rest of the group went back for the cans, tag-teaming whatever walkers remained. The loot had decently filled both trunks and everyone was happy to call it a day and head back.

Your eyes followed Daryl as he jumped into your car, eyes trained on the windshield, “Ya alright at least?” he muttered glancing at you briefly while shifting the car into drive.

“I’m good, you big grump,” you huffed with a tight-lipped smile. “That much food will last us a long time. I believe a thank you is in order, don’t you think?”

You were not good. Not at all, but there was no reason to worry him anymore, putting him through enough today as it was. Your hands were shoved tightly under your thighs, so he couldn’t see the tremors racking through you.

You had smelt death so many times it didn’t bother you much anymore. Today you had smelt your own. Saw your life in that walker's eyes, mere seconds away from demolition. It was safe to say you were shaken to your core.

The journey back was silent, both not in the mood to chat for very different reasons, and the whole time you were trying to keep each breath of yours steady.

You helped unload as much as you could, before slipping away discreetly to your cell. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you felt kind of pathetic honestly. This was life now, it had been this way for a long time now, you shouldn’t be so shaken up as you were but the terror just wouldn’t leave your body.

Panic washed over you once again as your eyes hit your dim cell. Your mind was quickly slipping back into those last moments, the darkness and dust all too similar. The fear you had felt coating your veins icily and your breaths started to become agitated. There was nowhere else to go though. If you left the cell someone would see you.

Subconsciously, you backed yourself into the corner of the room, crumbling down to the floor with your head in your hands. Deep down you hoped your hyperventilating would knock you out. You didn’t want to think anymore — see it anymore. Tears were burning the back of your throat as you held down sobs, feeling the walker's hands and weight atop of you all again.

A small yelp escaped you when the hands became real. Pressure on your shoulders and waist and your head snapped up from its hiding spot, reflexes already prepared to fight whatever presence was with you.

“It’s jus’ me, hey, hey,” you heard through your panic, his blue eyes just recognizable through blurry tears. “S’okay, relax.”

You couldn’t calm down this time, vicious sobs finally breaking their way out of your frame. Running was your first thought; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, Daryl or not. Emotions were never a strong suit of yours and would always find yourself dealing with them in private, away from sympathetic words and pitying eyes. But Daryl was never like that, he drew you in and held you tight, uttering no more words other than the ones to confirm it was him. If you asked him to say more, he would, but he knew this was what you needed. Someone to ground you back onto Earth and out of whatever images tormented your head.

So that’s what he did. Held you for hours as your body expelled all its terror and lingering adrenaline. He’d give quiet coos through each wave of shakes, grabbing a blanket to warm you through the cold sweats. And finally, once the fear faded to exhaustion, he scooped you up off the stiff concrete and into your soft cot.

“Stay with me?” you rasped, throat parched and raw from crying.

It wasn’t a second thought for him. He was never truly angry with you, and he knew you knew that. He needed you safe with him.

“Always.”

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2hightocare · 2 months

Text

LOVE WAGER! 02

Synopsis: The concept of love resurfaces as you both agree to center your psychology project on the premise that love is a choice. You propose an intriguing idea to Jungkook: he must exert every effort to make you fall in love with him within a month, to back up his belief.

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. angst/romantic comedy.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, neglectful parents, mentions of depression, banter, cussing, ex girlfriends, flashbacks, jungkook low key being super mean and discarding people’s feelings, jungkook hard-key depressed, implications of sex.

a/n: hai… this is so long overdue— exams month is coming and I had the biggest writers block fr but here’s my beloved babies. Song of the chapter— “love is embarrassing” by Olivia Rodrigo.

prev chapter! series masterlist!

Love.

Love is an intricate subject in its own right. Scientists elucidate it through the interplay of three cerebral chemicals: noradrenaline, dopamine, and phenylethylamine.

That's how Jungkook perceived love. He didn't subscribe to the notion of butterflies in the stomach or the fluttering heartbeat as justifications for love. To him, love was a scientific phenomenon, a complex emotion akin to sadness or jealousy-if he could evade such feelings, he would spare no effort.

But why did his stomach churn as if his organs were performing tiny somersaults whenever he gazed at you a tad too long? You were engrossed in the menu, pondering whether to get a burger or a slice of pizza.

Seated beautifully in your loose red Formula One shirt, Jungkook couldn't fathom how you managed to make that oversized shirt look so good.

Jungkook's eyes dropped to the ribbon in your hair, wondering why someone who was a full-on adult looked pretty, adorable even-with a red ribbon tied into a beautiful bow contrasting your skin and eyes. Your long eyelashes entranced him. He felt his stomach do something, a turn? Maybe his stomach was upset-he thought to himself.

Jungkook couldn't believe he found himself willingly sharing a table with you at the same dinner two years ago, he almost killed you at. He had moved to Emberhill U two years ago, ever since he moved out from his mom's house. Jungkook's life had gone to hell, which is exactly what his mind would tell him ever since his mom got a boyfriend. To make matters worse, he now had step-siblings.

He hated every bit of it. He wasn't jealous whatsoever.

It was the fact that his mom seemed to forget he even existed in the first place. Jungkook was hurt. He tried not to dwell or cry about it since he was a big boy-that's what he told himself now, pushing twenty-two, but still, part of his already broken heart shattered more.

How could your mom forget about her child? How could she not care about her only flesh and blood? He never told her that ever. Talking about his feelings with his mom was like talking to a brick wall that nothing could pass through. Plus, Jungkook wasn't good at communicating or talking about his feelings anyway. He found it embarrassing to lay yourself out there for someone to be able to discard you at any given moment.

Jungkook's dad wasn't any different as wellbeing too busy with work to even call him to ask his son if he was okay or how school is going. But the calls or text messages never came. Jungkook was used to it. It was his everyday. It was more shocking when he did call, but he wouldn't know what that would feel like since he never called ever since the divorce. Jungkook knew the divorce wasn't his fault whatsoever. His therapist—that his high school counselor made him go to—basically talked his ear off about how anything that happened wasn't his fault, but still, it felt like it was.

Ever since everything went down, his parents seemed to forget they had a child, who still needed them.

One advantage of his situation was the freedom to do as he pleased without his parents' interference. However, the downside was their lack of concern for his activities or just him in general. Jungkook was certain: if his parents didn't love him, who else in the world would? So, he didn't believe in love. When the two people meant to demonstrate unconditional love failed to do so, he doubted anyone else would. He would like to say that it didn't affect him and it's been years since everything, but deep down it still did.

Jungkook experiences a pang of guilt every time he looks at you. Perhaps it's the way he behaved when he first met you, the influence of the romantic comedy in your hands causing him to lash out at you.

Something about your ribbons makes him feel that you’re too innocent and naive for this world—part of him wants to shield you from its harsh realities, while another part wants to disillusion you about the cruelty of the world and the disparity between love in fairy tales and reality.

"Are you done daydreaming?" You say, interrupting his thoughts. Jungkook shakes his head, attempting to banish his thoughts before raising an eyebrow at your curious doe eyes. "I wasn't daydreaming," he states proudly, prompting a scoff from you, a grin tugging at Jungkook's lips.

"It was either daydreaming or checking me out since you were staring at me for a hot minute, but I decided otherwise since you have a girlfriend," you quip nonchalantly before calling the waiter to take your order.

"First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend, and second of all, what if I was checking you out?" Jungkook challenges. He didn’t know why he enjoyed getting on your nerves—any other person he would probably flip off and never give them the time of day, but instead, here he was with you doing the complete opposite.

"What happened to the girl from the dinner?" You question, your eyes finally meeting his brown ones. A glint of something passes over his eyes before disappearing as quickly as you saw it—so you thought maybe you had imagined it.

"Who?" Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side as he leans forward, his elbows propped on the table. "the one you mentioned to me two years ago? The one you discussed intimately," you mimic his voice. Jungkook's smile widens, amused by your jest.

"If you want to know so badly, we broke up—well, she broke up with me," Jungkook clicks his tongue, observing your expressions closely. He notices the creases of your forehead whenever you are thinking or the way you bite your lower lip to contain a smile that’s threatening to come out, each time Jungkook says something dumb.

"Oh, let me guess, she wanted love letters and sweet words whispered into her ear," you mock him, knowing he said that he didn’t need to do any of that to keep a girl. "You’re annoying, Ribbons," Jungkook shakes his head with a low soft chuckle.

You watch him pick up the menu and start scanning the items as you observe him. You notice how his jaw clenches momentarily before relaxing, his tongue poking on the inside of his cheek, making you wonder if you angered him—and if you did, maybe you should do it more often since he looked hot—

Record scratch.

Your mind was playing games with you the more you watched the raven-haired boy. The more you realized he was the epitome of the boy you imagined whenever you were reading a book, the dimples on his cheeks, the scar right above his cheekbone, and the mole underneath his bottom lip had you wanting to ask him for his whole life story.

He also looks like those cute love song playlists that had all your favorite songs in them, but you knew from the way he acts around you, it was definitely a hard no and maybe you were delusional after all. So you try hard to shove those ideas into the back of your brain as far as you could.

"I knew that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend," you shrug, prompting a gasp from him as he jokingly places a hand on his heart, as if you had just dealt him a mortal blow.

"Wow, YN doesn’t think I’m boyfriend material?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, shaking his head.

"You’re literally everything that's not boyfriend material," you throw your head back with a laugh, observing his widened eyes with amusement evident on his face. "Ouch," Jungkook scoffs dramatically.

"What makes you say I’m not boyfriend material?" he says, scanning the room for a waiter but finding none, before redirecting his attention to you.

"You don’t believe in love, that's one way to start," you point out, eliciting a hum of agreement from him. "What's that got to do with being a good boyfriend? I assure you that a good boyfriend isn’t necessarily head over heels in love," Jungkook says, as if imparting a valuable lesson, while your facial expression betrays you.

"The fuck? You literally hate everything related to love. Being a good boyfriend means doing cliche shit you hate doing so much, how could you possibly be boyfriend material?" you assert proudly, prompting an eye-roll from him.

"All that stuff is just superficial shit that everyone collectively agreed on. It’s just embarrassing how people put themselves go through all that just to make someone lik—“

"Love," you interject, earning yourself a glare from across the table.

"Like I was saying, I stand by the fact all those stupid romantic gestures are pointless. Society basically romanticized love and set up unrealistic expectations— everything just leads to heartbreak and disappointment," Jungkook continues, you watch how the hard expression on his face wavers to something more… sad, like he was talking from experience.

"Have you ever experienced love?" you inquire, not sure why since you guys weren’t even friends in the first place—the only reason you found yourself sitting with him willingly was because of psychology class.

"What?" Jungkook is caught off guard by the sudden question.

"Have you ever been in love?" you reiterate, observing his expression harden once more. "No, never, and I don’t plan to," Jungkook shrugs, going back to his usual cocky self in a blink of an eye, prompting yet another eye-roll from you, marking thirty-eighth.

You didn’t get the chance to reply since a waiter came to your table, apologizing for taking so long to get to us before taking our orders.

You and Jungkook decided on sharing a pizza, and you obviously ordered a coke, which got Jungkook joking about how he isn’t trying to make you choke again, which had the waiter shifting uncomfortably beside you both while Jungkook had an eating-shit grin on his face.

“That’s not what he meant!” You chuckled nervously, your face reddening, matching your shirt from how embarrassed you are.

“No, it’s okay, you don't have to explain,” the waiter said before excusing himself.

The moment the waiter was out of your line of vision, you turned your head to the boy who’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck was that?” You glared, your eyebrows scrunching. “What, you both just have a dirty mind,” Jungkook shrugged, the grin on his face making you shift in your chair.

Jungkook's aura was unlike anything you’d ever stumbled upon, and you hated it. It made you want to know more about him than you should, the way he carried himself and talked had you questioning why? He wasn’t so different from other boys you had met, besides the fact that he spoke his mind as if no one was around, not caring if he hurt your feelings or offended you. It was refreshing in some way, but it still made you want to pull your hair out.

“Alright… let’s change topics, Mr. Anti-Romantic,” you say, watching his smile widen.

“What?” You stared at him, trying to think what could possibly make him smile that much. You were sure your face would hurt if you possibly smiled that much.

“Nothing, I just find it extremely hot when you call me that, it turns me on,” Jungkook said, leaning forward.

Okay, that’s not exactly what you were imagining him saying. Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling your heartbeat rise. The smile not leaving his face had you feeling hot, as if the room temperature suddenly increased.

“Uh… so, project,” you blinked rapidly.

“Yeah, project,” Jungkook agreed, smile still on his face as he saw your cheeks flush with a reddish color.

“So, any ideas about what our project can be about?” You said, grabbing the hair tie around your wrist and using it to make a ponytail, taking the ribbons out before tying your hair.

Two small strands fell from your face, tempting Jungkook's fingers to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He wanted to slap himself back to reality since he never in his life thought those thoughts, not even with Haneul, whom he dated for five months, setting a record. He still remembered the reason she gave him for breaking up. It was laughable.

“Jungkook, you don’t even look at me with love, and I know you said when we first met that it was only attraction, but I thought you would change over time the more we hung out,” Haneul whimpered, tears gathering around her eyes as Jungkook just stared at her, not knowing what to say. Because yes, he did tell her it was all attraction, and it’s still only attraction to this day for him.

“You don’t hold my hand or give me kisses, you don’t even give me flowers,” Haneul cried, her voice cracking with each word she said.

“I told you, I don’t do that stuff,” Jungkook said. He felt bad for her since he knew she deserved better, but he didn’t feel bad about not doing those things for her since he told her he wouldn’t and never would do them. And she agreed, so why was she crying about it now when she agreed to it five months ago?

“I know you did, but I thought you just… fuck, you haven’t even introduced me to your family,” a crack is heard from Jungkook's heart, but not for the girl in front of him crying her heart out, but for himself, because yeah, he had no family he could take a girl home to, since he had no home at all. He had a house, but it was as empty as he was.

“Haneul, I told you—“

“Yeah, that you will never do that! I get it, okay? I get it, but fuck, how can you not care? Do you not feel anything when it comes to me?” The girl wept more, which had Jungkook sighing.

“I like you, Haneul,” Jungkook replied. “I love you, Jungkook, can’t you tell…” she whispered, a choked sob leaving her lips as she looked up at the man who’s just standing in front of her like nothing.

“I’m sorry,” that's all Jungkook said… because what else could he say? It was either that or that he didn’t love her, but to not take it personally since he didn’t love anything?

So instead, he said the only thing he could muster without his voice cracking.

“Love,” Jungkook finally says, his statement catching you off guard, widening your eyes in surprise.

“Love? I thought you hated love,” you raise an eyebrow, perplexed by his sudden declaration.

“I do, but love is psychological. We can discuss how we, as humans, have the ability to choose whether we fall in love or not,” Jungkook articulates.

“That’s not how love works, Jungkook,” you retort, to which he responds with a disapproving nod. “It does, though,” Jungkook rebuts.

“It doesn’t. Love is not something we can choose and pick, it just happens,” you try to explain.

“You believe love just happens, but I disagree, respectfully,” Jungkook adds, causing you to tilt your head curiously, intrigued by his perspective. “I’ve held on for too long without being in love since I said I wouldn’t fall in love,” he concludes.

“That’s because you haven’t met anyone you actually want to try with… maybe you just haven’t met your soulmate,” you suggest, annoyance evident on Jungkook’s face the moment you mention the concept of soulmates.

“Soulmates don’t exist, ribbons,” Jungkook snickers.

“I beg to differ,” you cross your arms, adamant in your belief. “I don’t know what fantasy lovey-dovey world you live in, but soulmates are just made up,” Jungkook shrugs casually.

“Maybe you are right about the fact that you get to choose who you fall in love with since I know for a fact I would never fall in love with you,” you spitefully state.

Jungkook nods, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth that catches him off guard. Perhaps it was the fact that someone had just openly admitted they wouldn’t want to love him—reminding him of the kid he once was, desperately begging his parents to love him. But wasn’t this what he was trying to prove in the first place, that love was a choice? Then why did it hurt to hear you say those words out loud?

“Atta girl, finally got it huh,” Jungkook smirks, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest. “Alright then, if we did do that for our project, let’s say we argued that love is a choice and it doesn’t happen. How do we prove that?” you question.

Silence fills the table as you both brainstorm ideas, trying to back up this argument.

“I got it,” you say, as if a light bulb just appeared on top of your head. Jungkook nods, encouraging you to continue.

“What if we spend a month with you doing absolutely everything to make me fall in love with you? And I mean do all that cliché, romantic shit I love that you hate so much. Since I know for a fact that I choose not to fall in love with you, we can discuss how, even if a person does everything right, you still get to choose who you love,” you explain carefully, ensuring he understands your proposal.

“It’s a good idea for the project; we could use ourselves to illustrate how we pick and choose who we love, like you said,” you try to convince him, giving him the benefit of the doubt after he convinced you of his beliefs. You knew you would never fall for him, even if he did everything you ever read in books and saw in movies.

“We can call it the Love Wager,” you finish, scanning his face as he contemplates the idea.

Jungkook’s mind races, unsure if he likes the idea or absolutely hates it. On one hand, it could earn him a good grade, given the strong rationale behind it, using yourselves as an experiment to support your argument. But on the other hand, the thought of spending a month doing everything he had vocally despised for the past five years gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“Alright then, the Love Wager operation starts,” Jungkook agrees instead, while you clap happily. “Oh my god yay, this might give me an A plus,” you celebrate, giggling as Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story; I just hate psychology,” you say, to which he nods in response.

“Well, we have a month together, so start explaining why you hate it so much,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, and before you could reply, the waiter hurriedly returns to your table, apologizing for the wait, mentioning the kitchen’s struggle with the influx of orders. But you keep your eyes on the boy in front of you, who looks at the waiter, reassuring him it’s okay.

The smell of fresh, hot pizza fills your nostrils as you finally snap out of your trance, looking down at the pizza the waiter is sliding onto the table, cautioning you both that it is extremely hot. The waiter continues to place all the food you ordered on the table before leaving with a bow.

“I’m starving, oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he picks up a slice of pizza and takes a bite, ignoring the steam.

“How is that not burning your tongue, oh my…” you begin to say, but you’re interrupted as you take a bite of your own slice, immediately regretting it as you burn your tongue. “Ah, ah, ha,” you drop the pizza onto your plate, sticking your tongue out and fanning your mouth with your hand. A small laugh escapes from Jungkook as you shoot him a snarky glare.

“He literally just told you it was hot, ribbons,” Jungkook says, grabbing a napkin from the container and reaching over to wipe some sauce off your lips and face. The fanning from your hand halts as you stare at his focused face, feeling yourself heat up again, but this time it’s not your mouth—it’s your cheeks.

“Why did you just do that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, as he sits back down properly. “I’m starting my boyfriend material journey, you know, since the project?” Jungkook says casually, taking another bite of pizza, watching you in surprise as you shockingly observe him not being fazed by the burning food in his mouth, chewing happily.

“Oh… we’re starting right now?” you gesture to the table between you both, indicating ‘right now’. “Yeah, we only have one month, let’s make it worth it,” he says, diving back into his food.

God, this month was definitely going to be a roller coaster.

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thepenultimateword · 4 months

Text

Sugar and Spice

Henchman dusted the flour off his hands and gave the spiced apple mixture a quick stir. Looked like the juices were releasing nicely with the sugar. This should be a perfectly gooey filling once he finished the crust.

He set out the first pie pan and had just picked up the dough when the double kitchen doors shrieked open. "Henchman, you're needed in the weapons room for cleaning."

Henchman barely gave Other Villain a glance. "Um...no?"

"Excuse me?"

He pressed the pie dough into the pan and took up a knife to trim the excess. "I'm supposed to finish 12 pies before dinner. If I leave the kitchen, I won't meet my deadline. Besides, weapons isn't my department."

"You're department is doing what you're told."

"And if Supervillain doesn't get his pies for the dinner tonight are you going to take responsibility?"

Other Villain's whole body quivered, and the next sentences came out through gritted teeth as if holding herself back from exploding. With her combustion abilities, she just might be. "The weapon's combat team failed another mission. They've been entirely dispatched. If you don't want to follow in their footsteps, I suggest you listen to your superior before I report you for insubordination."

Henchman sighed heavily but set aside the trimmed crust and ran his hands under the sink faucet, scalding away all the crusted flour. He hated it when people pulled the "villain" card. As if the title meant anything more than their abilities being active rather than passive. But until big bosses like Supervillain stopped treating combat abilities as the bar for worth, Henchman couldn't do much about the system's power dynamics. "Can I expect help? I can't spare more than an hour."

Other Villain gave a self-satisfied smile, quickly followed by an annoyed glance at Henchman. "I'll attempt to siphon help from a few other departments, but it may take some time."

Henchman sighed again. "Of course." He placed the bowl of apples in the fridge, pulling his apron over his head and hanging it on the wall hook on his way out the door.

Luckily, all the dough and the fillings were finished, and the oven could fit several pans at a time. He didn't have much faith in Other Villain finding him help--she'd always looked down on the culinary department's contribution even while happily scarfing down booster gelatin before each training session--but perhaps if he gave the weapons room the bare minimum he could make it back before dinner.

That hope disappeared as soon as he entered the weapons room. It was like no one had cleaned it once since the organization was established. Pockmarked targets and half-crushed practice dummies strewed the room. Weapons stuck into walls or laid discarded on the floor. Some were even dispersed throughout the tiered seating area. Henchman scooped up a scimitar by its hilt. Tsking as he twirled it in his hand. They didn't even properly clean--Was that blood?

Henchman dropped the weapon with a loud clatter. His insides chilled as he took in the rust-colored flecks spattering the flat of the blade. Not so much like a weapon that had met flesh as one that had tasted the aftermath of its owner's demise before it could even defend them. Similarly colored smears decorated the walls and flooring.

Other Villain's comment about the latest weapons team's fate rang through Henchman's mind, and suddenly the mess didn't seem so much their fault. Henchman didn't want to think about what actually went down here, and even if he did he shouldn't dare.

Ok, Henchman. Get in, get out, bake your pies.

First thing first, collect all the weapons dispersed throughout the room. Henchman picked up a pair of spears, wrenching one out of a thick practice mat with a spray of foam. He sighed. More mess.

He threw down the spears against the wall and moved for a half-crumpled metal shield. Did Supervillain come personally? No, don't think. That wasn't his job. As much as he hated Other Villain's attitude, she wasn't entirely wrong. His job was to do what he was told, with as little inquiry as possible.

He found an empty quiver at the top of the bleachers, the arrows scattered in tiny pieces among the seats. He'd have to get a broom for those later. But where was the bow? He ducked down to peer under benches but other than a snapped bow string and some close-up splatter that was definitely blood, he found nothing. Maybe it got thrown to the bottom when Supervillain...did what Supervillain did to "parasites."

Henchman skipped the steps two at a time, picking up a dagger teetering haphazardly over the edge of a bench along the way. He jumped down to the training mat with a loud POFF! Loud enough that he didn't notice the sound of the door opening until the flame-haired figure was almost right in front of him. Her hair was pulled into its usual thick braid crown, wound and wound like an endless coil of rope. Meanwhile, she stood on edge, a dog ready to attack, double-colored eyes flicking rabidly around the room. Finding Henchman the room's sole occupant, they eventually settled hungrily on him.

Henchman's heart skipped a beat, clutching the dagger in both hands, tip down, in front of them. "Sir? Er, Ma'am? Villain?"

The green eye looked ready to skin him, while the brown one spun webs of thought.

"Did...Other Villain send you?" Henchman could cringe at the ridiculous question, Villain outranked Other Villain by about a quadrillion stations, but he couldn't think of any other reason why she would be here.

"You're a henchman, right?" she said.

"Um...yes?"

Her gaze flicked to the dagger in his hands, and she turned on heel back toward the door. "Come with me."

Henchman blinked. What was up with villains being bossy today? Well, he took pissing off Villain much more seriously than Other Villain. Maybe she had further instructions for dealing with this mess. Or maybe he wasn't supposed to see this mess, and she'd been sent to deal with him. In any case, he couldn't say no, so he trailed numbly after her into the hall.

She didn't stop there, leading him around several bends, all the way to the stairwell, and down several flights of stairs. When they emerged they were on ground level.

Henchman scrambled to keep up with her stride out the door and into the parking lot. "Um, eminence," Henchman panted, finally remembering the correct title, "do you need help carrying some things upstairs? I could call you a couple runners if you need."

Villain popped open the passenger door to a steel blue coupe. "Get in."

Henchman obeyed on instinct. "Um--"

Villain closed the door on his question, circling around the front of the vehicle and sliding into the driver's seat. She jammed the keys into the ignition and roared the engine to life.

"Wait, are we leaving?" Henchman exclaimed, jolting out of his dronish obedience. Cleaning the weapons room was one thing, but leaving the building to who knew where was another. He really didn't want to be killed for completing neither of his responsibilities today.

"We have somewhere to be," Villain said, eyes fixed straight ahead as she wove through the lot. As she turned out on the main road, the car went from 10 to 100 in a matter of seconds. "A mission."

"But I have work!" Henchman yelped, the acceleration pressing his back into the warm leather seat.

"Not anymore."

"But Supervillain--"

"Has different orders."

Henchman tried to unravel that statement. Supervillain had never wanted him on a mission. This had to be some sort of mistake.

"You're sure?" he said. "Supervillain wants me to go with you?

"Yep."

"Because you kind of made it seem like you didn't know who I was?"

"I don't, I'm working off descriptions."

"Henchman?" Henchman offered. "Did he say Henchman?"

Villain lifted one hand off the wheel, pointing at him with a little knowing tongue click. "That's the one. You're my support."

"Oh." Henchman took a few quiet moments to swallow that. Support made more sense. Maybe this was some sort of away mission. Henchman's bakes didn't pack as much oomph when they were stale, so maybe Supervillain had sent him along for optimum power. It must be something really important if that were the case. But then why didn't anyone inform him? Did Other Villain send him to the weapons room out of spite, hoping he wouldn't be told in time? "What's the mission?"

"Hero agency infiltration. One of the big ones. We're going to have fake identities, safe houses, everything."

Henchman frowned. That sounded like a mission with lots of planning involved, not a spur-of-the-moment run-out-the-door sort of thing. "Is it far?"

"Very far." Villain turned sharply onto the highway's entry ramp. "And top secret. So you can't call anyone."

Henchman's insides twisted. He didn't get this far in a villain organization without being able to feel when something was off. But he also didn't get this far by asking too many questions.

"Ok."

Villain didn't say anymore after that. Henchman half pondered asking if he should turn on some music but decided against it. He leaned his head back against the seat rest, taking in the rumble of the engine and the muffled whip of the wind along either side of the car's sleek body. Villain breathed from her side of the car, but he tried not to think to hard about that. He'd barely interacted with her more than a handful of times, and only ever in passing or with a group. None of which he expected her to remember. Supervillain knew who he was because he knew how to utilize him. Villain didn't need to know any of that to do her job, which was to be the most lethal weapon in Supervillain's arsenal.

Henchman struggled against heavy eyelids, the soothing glide of the car and the exhaustion of the day hitting him all at once. He'd been prepping those pies for hours before Other Villain interrupted him. The apples were going to go bad if he wasn't back in a couple days. He couldn't even call one of the other chefs to finish them for him with this no-call rule, not that they'd have full effect without him doing each step anyway.

He yawned widely.

What sort of things...did Villain...like...?

Henchman didn't remember dozing off, but when he came to, the sky was dark and his face was pressed up against his window.

"I'm going to make you clean that glass," Villain said.

Henchman raised his head drowsily, squinting at the drool smear for several long seconds before shooting up completely straight in his seat.

"I'm sorry!"

Villain rolled her eyes. "You don't need to grovel about it." She pushed open her door and stepped out into the night. "Anyway, we're here."

"Here?" Henchman said, quickly getting out after her.

Villain nodded at the building with its glowing red overhead sign: Azure Inn. "Hotel."

"This is our safe house?"

"This is on the way to the safe house," Villain said, then shooting him a glare. "Stop asking so many questions."

Henchman bit his lip to stop from asking how much further they had to go tomorrow or where they even were now. He simply trailed her into the office as she purchased their room--two twin beds--and then continued after her to room 109.

Everything was blue. Curtains, bedspreads, carpets; it was no wonder how the hotel got its name.

Villain headed straight into the bathroom and Henchman plopped down on one blue bed stretching his long legs to the end with a soft groan as his thoughts wandered once again to the kitchen. This time to the pie dough, sitting in the open air in its tin. It was probably dry by now. His eyes flicked to the wall clock. 12:20 a.m. Supervillain's dinner was over by now too. How did they manage?

The bathroom door creaked, and Villain stepped into the main room, long hair loosed on her shoulders, framing her face in a thick, kinked mane.

Henchman's heart skipped a stupid beat.

As if hearing it, Villain's eyes whirled in his direction, pinning him to the mattress like finely whetted blades. "What are you doing?"

Henchman slowly pushed himself upright."Going...to bed?"

"You're support; you need to keep watch."

"For what?"

"For heroes, moron!" she snapped.

Henchman flinched. "Oh. Right. Um. They know we're coming?"

Villain stormed across the room, yanking back the covers and throwing herself violently onto her mattress. “We don't know, but it's better to be safe than sorry. You already slept in the car, so just stay awake until morning.”

“Right.” Henchman watched Villain snuggle beneath the covers locks of hair fanning like licking flame across her pillow. He cleared his throat. "One more question."

Villain sighed. "What?"

"What do you expect me to do if a hero does show up?”

“Fight them?” she said in a tone that reeked of suspicion that Henchman might actually be stupid.

“Ha, yes, that would seem obvious,” Henchman replied, attitude sneaking into his own tone. “If I knew how.”

Villain shot upright. “What?”

“Combat isn’t my speciality.”

“But you’re a combat henchman!”

Henchman furrowed his brow. “Nooo.”

"What do you mean? You were in the weapons room!”

"Yeah, because Supervillain killed them all! And apparently there was no one else around to clean up the mess!”

“He…?” Villain drew up her knees, leaning her elbows on the caps and rubbing her thumbs hard into her temples. “No, no, no, no. He’s further ahead than I thought. Has he already…? No. Maybe…”

“Villain?”

She jerked her head sharply toward him. "What do you do?"

Henchman wet his lips, the sheer contrast of Villain’s expectations, of this entire mistake, hitting him all at once. He looked down at the mattress sheepishly. “I bake."

Part Two

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindonessy @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @kurai-hono-blog

#villain x henchman #villain x villain #creative writing #hero x villain #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #writblr #writing snippet #villain #fiction #writers of tumblr #hero x villain community

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tygoii · 9 months

Text

Sub Aether x Bunny Female Reader

Warning: creampie, mention of pregnancy, overstimulation, face riding, humping, fingering, needy reader

_ _ _ _ _

It was night time in the nation of freedom in near spring vale anyone could hear a faint whine coming from a small house luckily everyone was asleep “Y-Y/n..” the blondie was on his bed his face was red he could feel the girls wet panties on his bare thigh “Aether please” a girl with rabbit ears was staring at the flustered boy like he was her prey “Y/n p-please take y-your pills..” said Aether he yelped feeling a hand land on his boner Y/n’s lips sucked on Aethers flesh making him whine Y/n started grinding on his thigh making her whimper “p-please Y-Y/n you’re gonna get us kicked out..” said Aether knowing how loud his gf is during sex Y/n whined and stopped sucking on his neck “baby..can i please ride your pretty face~” said Y/n ignoring what Aether had told her Aether sighed he laid down he could see Y/n smile and take off her panties that were soaking wet.

moans could be heard from the small house in spring vale “good boy~” moaned Y/n petting Aethers messy hair Aether was all red from the lack of air his eyes were glossy Y/n was more thrilled liking that Aether was being a obedient boy Aethers tongue was plunging inside Y/ns pussy he felt her cum on his tongue he thought everything was over when he felt Y/n was sitting on his lap and guiding his hand to her pussy “give me more..” whined Y/n she felt two slim fingers curl inside her hitting that spot that made her go crazy “ha i love you Aether~” said Y/n sucking on Aethers neck making him whimper Y/n smiled seeing tons of purple and red hickeys all over his neck and chest “Y-Y/n!” Aether yelped feeling her hand play with his hard cock that was begging for attention Aether took out his fingers and as soon as he did Y/n had a orgasm her eyed rolled back and her clit twitched Y/n sat on Aethers dick making Y/n throw her head back in pleasure “w-wait you just h-had hng!” Aether couldn’t finish his sentence Y/n was already going up and down his dick and moaning his name “Aether~” Y/n wrapped her arms around Aethers neck he was a moaning mess he hadn’t touched himself in a long time due to fighting hilichurls and more what he didn’t know was that Y/n was sexually frustrated and when her heat cycle came she had more libido it was kinda Aethers fault tho..

“Y-Y/n slow d-down hng~” Aether was laying down and his eyes were glossy he looked like he was almost out of breath he could feel his gf pussy tightening and pumping his dick again he had came inside Y/n many times making him worried but he didn’t think of it much not like he could anyways the feeling of Y/ns pussy tightening around him made him forget everything “Aether i want all your babies..” moaned Y/n “hah y-y/n..” Aether saw Y/n who's eyes were filled with lust “hng Y/n mm i-i love you so hah~” Aether whimpered feeling Y/ns amazing pussy pump his dick for more cum “hah im sure y-you’re gonna get pregnant with all my children h-hah you’re pussy is milking my cock for all its worth~” said Aether smirking making Y/n even excited Aether would never dirty talk guess they are gonna have a sleepless night..at the end dionas dad heard all the ruckus and scolded the favonius hero..

#sub aether #genshin smut #genshin impact #aether #aether smut

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justmeinadaze · 8 months

Text

Children of the Night Part 3 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Happy Friday the 13th <3

Warnings: Dom Daddy Vampire Eddie/Sub Human Steve (cam boys) X Sub Human Fem Reader, SMUT, rough smut (Vamp Eddies needs take over a bit), dirty talk, biting, mentions of blood and draining (duh vampire), aftercare of course, FLUFF they love each other :), ANGST, Protective Stevie always on alert, Reader has nightmares one involving Steve being beaten up and Eddie saving him and another dealing her childhood trauma (child abuse trigger involving mother), Eddie mentions his drunk dad, Both boys give her a run down of events in the show, I think that's all.

Word Count: 4185

Eddie felt it; every punch and kick that was being delivered to the man he loved amped him up more as he hunted for Steve.

“Dude, this isn’t fun if he doesn’t fight back.”

“Maybe fucking the freak made him soft.”

His boyfriend’s anger mixed with his own before more pain followed.

“Oh, I see. That’s your button isn’t it, Harrington? Don’t like people making fun of your freak?”

The scenery blurred around the metalhead as the feelings within him became almost too much.

“Fuck. Dude, did you hear that? I think someone might be—”

The boy’s screams echoed as Eddie tackled him, pinning him to the ground before snapping his neck.

“Holy shit. What the fuck? M-Munson?”

The vampire growled, sprinting behind him, and taking ahold of his throat as his fangs dug into his flesh. As the boy’s blood spilled down his throat, Eddie felt some of his anger calm but a hunger he hadn’t even realized was there took over as he guided his victim to the floor and continued to drink till there was nothing left.

“Eddie?”

“Y/N, WAKE UP!”

Your body shot upright with a start as your panicked eyes met Steve’s who was hovering over you with cross as he pointed it Eddie who was now in the corner of their bedroom.

“Wh-What happened?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“No.”, the vampire growled. “She keeps accessing my memories. It’s not my fault I can fucking feel them. Jesus, this needs to stop.”

“Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, honey. His blood just needs to run its course. What was it this time?”, Steve asked as he put the cross away and tenderly pet the back of your head.

“I think people were hurting you. Eddie was trying to find you to protect you. God, Steve, it was so strong, the anger and then…the hunger.”

“Explains why he just tried to bite you again.” His eyes met yours as you shifted you gaze. “I heard him growling in his sleep. He shot up like you did but his eyes were that black color.”

“You know I’m really glad we can all play fucking catch up but I’m still fucking hungry.”, Eddie snarled causing the other man to roll his eyes.

“Let me get him a blood bag.”

The long-haired boy smirked as his black eyes scanned you over.

“Why are you so fucking turned on right now?”

“I didn’t just feel the anger and hunger. You really love him don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’d do anything to protect him?”

“Always. Same with you, little one.”

“D-Do you love me to, Eddie?”, you whisper. The vampires smirk stretches a bit more making your body shiver in pleasure at the sight. “Do you love me…Daddy?”

“Here. Drink this now and then tonight when we stream, you can take more from me.” The vampire immediately tears open the bag, chugging it back like a beer. “We may want to get you home, Y/N. We don’t want anything to seem out of the ordinary.”

“Arthur…”

“Eddie took care of him and cleaned your house. Do you feel comfortable going back?”

“Yeah, I just…I don’t want to leave you two.”

“How about I come with you? You can get some things including your phone and then I can bring you back here so you can moderate and be with us after.”

***

“Steve?” He answers with a small hm as he continued look at things around your room. “Why did those boys attack you that night you went missing?”

The man sighs as he turns around to face where you were sitting on your bed as he leans against your dresser.

“Small town, small minded people. After Eddie died, those couple months after I was basically numb. I missed him so much Y/N, you have no idea. People would talk behind my back or make fun of me for caring about the ‘devil worshipping freak’. Usually, I can hold myself together but that day just hit me hard. I…I went to his trailer to drown myself in booze and just hide in those memories.”

“Those kids showed up saying they heard the ‘gay music’ and that wasn’t allowed in Hawkins. I tried to leave but that’s when they started hurting me.”

“Why didn’t you try to defend yourself?”

“How do you know I didn’t?”

“I heard one of the boys say that in Eddie’s memory.”

“Jesus. I didn’t realize he heard any of that. Um, honestly, honey… I kinda hoped they would kill me…so I could be with him…”

Rising from your place on the bed, you embraced him and he heavily exhaled as he did the same, resting his chin on your head.

“When I saw him standing there, I thought I had died. I couldn’t believe he was alive.”

“What was that place he woke up from?”

“That’s a bit harder to explain. The best answer I can give you is another world like ours but darker, eviler. We…we went down there to save lives… Can we talk about this more later? I just…”

“No, no. I understand. I felt it when he woke up, not just what you were experiencing but he was so scared something happened to you when he woke up and everything was quiet. For a moment, he thought…you guys had lost…if that makes sense? But then he heard you talking and playing your song… he cares about you a lot.”

That made him smile before his index finger reached under your chin and tilted your head so you could meet his gaze.

“We care about you a lot to. I meant what I said last night. Ever since we first spoke to you, I knew you were different. He always wanted to come find you and bring you to us. After everything that’s happened, I kind of wish I had let him.”

“I’m sorry for being so much trouble…”

“No! No, shit, that’s not what I meant. I just…if you had been with us you never would have gotten this black eye or shot. I hated seeing you in pain.”

“I liked having you take care of me though.”

His eyes scanned your face as his hand cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed your lips.

“I liked having you take care of me to.”

“Steve.”, you moaned his name breathily making him smile above you.

“I can’t wait for Daddy to have you. Trust me, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced.”, he whispered. “He was phenomenal before but now…” Steve pauses, his grin growing when he sees you giggle through your teeth. “What are you laughing at, pretty girl?”

“I guess it’s his blood still but I can feel him. Because we’re turned on, he’s turned on and he’s stroking his cock right now.”

“You can feel that?”

“I’m assuming because I feel how I feel when an orgasm is building in my tummy, you know?”

“You feel like you’re gonna cum, honey? Maybe, I can help.”

Licking your lips, you watch as he slides two of his fingers into his mouth, coating them with his saliva as you unbutton your jeans. His palm glides effortlessly through the waistband of your panties and you groan as he pushes his digits into your entrance.

“Fuck. I just stretched you open and you’re still so fucking tight.”

Knowing you were already close to edge, he pumped his fingers at a fast pace, curling them inside of you as he kissed your forehead. Your hand clung to his wrists as your eyes fluttered shut and your hips rolled against his movements.

“That’s it, baby. Use my fingers. Good girl.”, Steve hummed in your ear in a seductive tone that had you clenching. “Cum, honey. I got you.”

Moaning his name, you came with an intensity you had never felt before, your arms shooting out to wrap around him as you pressed your face into his chest.

“It’s ok, Y/N. You’re alright.”

Sliding his hand out of your pants, he blindly buttoned them as you continued to clutch him tightly.

“Well, this is new for me.”, he chuckles. “I mean, normally I’m in this headspace and Eddie takes care of me.” When your eyes look up to meet his, he feels his cock strain against the denim of his jeans. The innocence that reflected back within them was part of what attracted the vampire to you.

You knew nothing of their world they lived yet you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with them and be who they needed. In return, they kept you safe and looked after you. They cared about you. They…

“Do you love me to, Steve?”

His phone aggressively vibrating cut through the moment and he sighed as he flipped it open reading the text his boyfriend just sent.

“You both need to get back here now. Daddy is hungry.”

############

When you guys got back to their place, Eddie had moved some of the cameras around so you could sit at their desk and work while also not being picked up accidently.

“You know, if ever you want me to join you…”

“I know, sweetheart. I just want to have you first before other people get to see you.”

“Not like they can see too much with this grainy webcam.”, Steve states as he comes into the bedroom and throws off his shirt.

“Aw. Do you want them to see you better, Stevie?”, Eddie teases as he tugs his boyfriend to the edge of the bed where he normally sits when they stream and wraps his arms around his chest.

“It’s nice to be seen.” The man reaches for one of his boyfriend’s hands and playfully bites his palm making you smile as you watch them wondering if this was a little glimpse of what they were like before everything happened.

The clock in the room beeps and they both get more serious as you bring the stream to life. Everything starts off normally as you moderate the chat in front of you. No nonsense today besides people inquiring about the new angle of the cameras. Your eyes start to flutter however when you feel your body begin to tingle like it had at your house.

Turning to face them, nothing is unusual as their lips mingle together but you’re surprised when the vampire grips Steve’s shoulder and effortlessly moves him around till he’s lying on his stomach with his head facing the camera. No…not just facing the camera…facing you.

The vampire whispers something to him and the man’s brown eyes find yours as Eddie trails kiss down his back before roughly lifting his hips higher in the air.

When his boyfriend’s tongue invades his entrance, Steve mewls as he bites his bottom lip. Your hands tremble with need as you slide your shorts and underwear down your legs. Making sure he has a good view, you open your legs for him, displaying your soaking cunt as you run your fingers through your slick.

“Fuck, baby. That’s it.”

Eddie crawled back up his body, sliding his own fingers between the boy’s cheeks causing Steve’s face to scrunch in pleasure.

“Is she as tight as you are, sweetheart? Fuck. I can feel how turned on you both are. It drives me crazy.” Two sets of eyes watch you intensely as you slide your digits into you hole, trying to stifle any noise from leaving your lips as Eddie pulls out his own and runs the tip of his cock between Steve’s ass. “Jesus. Are you ready for me, baby?”

“Yes, Daddy. Please.”, he begged.

Your moans mixed in with theirs as Eddie pushed into him, wrapping his arms around his chest as he laid flat on his back while he thrust his hips.

“That’s my good boy. I love you so much. This perfect ass was made for Daddy.”

Their fingers intertwined as yours thrust into your pussy at a faster pace.

“I’m ready, honey. Mmm—take what you need.”

Eddie grunted as he nodded, tenderly kissing Steve’s neck before his mouth opened wider and his fangs dug into his skin.

You felt it immediately. As soon as his blood touched his lips, that euphoria you felt drinking his own blood coursed through your veins. It was so strong, your body slid to the floor as you tried to ride your own fingers harder to satisfy the feeling to no avail.

Your vision blurred as you watched the bed shake and listened to their moans as Steve practically screamed telling you he came. You waited for the second release but no sound followed.

The wind blew around you as the cameras beeped off, your body was abruptly lifted, and you were tossed next to Steve whose glassy half lidded eyes met yours. You barely had time to register what was happening as your legs your lifted around Eddie’s waist and his cock pushed inside you.

“Eddie!”, you squealed as his hips thrust aggressively into yours hitting that spot inside of you that you couldn’t reach with your fingers.

The vampire growled loudly, baring his fangs as black eyes stared menacingly into yours.

“D-Daddy. I’m sorry. You…just feel so good. Please don’t stop.”

He growled again much lower than before as he continued to pump his cock into you with rough abandon. Eddie’s head fell within the nook of your neck and your fingers tangled in his hair as you held him to you.

“You can—oh my god—you can take from me to, baby. Anything you need.”

“Ed—Eddie…wait…”, Steve tried to get his attention but the man was too far gone and when your head turned to face his he knew it.

“It’s ok, Steve. I’m ok.” Your reached out to hold his hand as he limply scooted forward to kiss your lips.

Your pussy clenched around him as Eddie’s teeth grazed your flesh, wincing when they punctured the skin. The fingers you had in his hair tightened as you felt the blood drain from your body. You had never felt anything as good as this before as your eyes rolled and the tingles within your body amplified to what felt like a burning degree.

“Y-Yes, Daddy. Harder. Please!”

The bed once again began to shake as he did what you asked, rolling his hips aggressively into you as he abused your g-spot over and over. His large palm cupped your cheek as he held your head still, grunting and growling as your walls continued to suck him in.

Your body trembled underneath his as you came harder than you ever had before, your face contorting in pain and pleasure when he released your throat and fucked you through your orgasm. Chasing his own high, he placed his forehead on yours as his hands tenderly petted your head.

“Yes.”, he panted against your lips in a gruff tone. “Yes. I love you, princess.”

You tried to wrap your arms around him but you could barely move. All you were able to do was tilt your head so you could gently kiss him while he thrust into you till you felt him release his seed into your cunt.

“I…I love you to, Eddie.”

Carefully sliding out of you, he quickly disappeared and returned with water, a wash rag, and a snack.

“Steve?”

You rolled to your side, his fingers slightly twitching in your hand to tell you he was listening even though his eyes were closed.

“I love you to.”

The boy smiled drunkenly as Eddie lifted you both up and leaned your backs against the headboard as he cleaned your bodies.

“I love you to, pretty girl. Eddie loves you to even though he won’t admit it.”

“I literally just did, you dork.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t be mean.”, his boyfriend chastised with a smirk.

“Here. You two eat this please.” You and Steve giggled like kids as you took the power bars from his hands and nibbled on the ends. “Shit. I think I’m going to have to give you two a bath because this rag isn’t going to do a damn thing. Do you think you both can walk?”

The human boy tries and immediately falls backwards, his head landing in your lap. As Eddie got up to help him, he paused as he watched you gently run your fingers through his hair as he continued to grin. The vampire sighed in pleasure at your action loving the little things you did to show that you cared. It had been so long since anyone had touched or even talked to them kindly and he loved even more that they were getting to experience things like this again through you.

“Am I in the bathtub already?”

“Jesus, no Steven. You are weirdest inebriated person I have ever meant and you aren’t even drunk or high.” Eddie lifts him into his arms and carries him into the bathroom, leaning him against the wall.

“I am high… on you.” The metalhead rolls his eyes as Steve pokes his nose, trying to hide the smile that wants to push through. He turns with the intention of coming to get you to find that you were already leaning against the other wall of the bathroom.

“I could have carried you. Are you ok?”

“Yeah.”, you sigh as you gesture absently. “Not the first time I’ve had to move during blood loss and it probably won’t be the last.”

The vampire listened to you two talk as he got the bath ready.

“Hey. The last time you were bleeding, you were flat on a table ma’am. No movement required.”

“Hm. Bled a few times growing up. M’mom is in jail remember?” Steve’s eyes became sad as he scanned your face. “Also boyfriends like John. Besides that night, had you ever gotten into a fight, Stevie?”

“Pfft, yeah a few. Once over a girl, another to protect some kids I was looking after…and then some Russian soldiers beat the shit out of me. That was fun.”

You looked at him with confusion as Eddie guided him into the water before coming to do the same with you.

“Yeah, I know. It sounds far-fetched but he’s telling the truth. We started dating a little after that particular incident so yeah.”

Holding your arm, he helps you down and you exhale as you lean your back against Steve’s chest while Eddie sits on the edge of the tub to clean you both.

“What about you?”, you ask.

“Ah, no fights for me, princess. I mean, no fights with people. I tried fighting a hoard of bats but obviously that didn’t end well.”

“And your dad?”

“Um, yeah that never ended well either.” His eyes glazed over a bit as he focused on the task before him but paused when your hand touched his.

“I’m sorry, baby.”

Flashing you a soft smile, he cleared his throat as he rose to his feet.

“Alright, I’m going to go change the sheets. Do you think you two can remain coherent till I come back.”

“Yes, DAD.”, Steve sassed making you giggle as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tighter to him.

################

You hide under your dinner table you used to have in your parent’s house when you were little. Your mother is screaming again as she searches for you.

“Where the fuck are you, you ungrateful brat?! Do you really think you’re any better for them? Always causing problems! Trust me, babe, they’d be better off without you.”

You jump when you feel a palm touch your bicep.

“Whoa. Sorry.”, Steve whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What are we hiding from?”

You point towards the kitchen as your mother’s shadow passes along the tablecloth.

“Hey, what did we say, baby girl? You’re safe with us.”, Eddie beamed as he pushed some of your hair back behind your ear.

“But are you safe with me?”

Your eyes flew open as you clutched your chest.

“You know, some people just sleep at night.”, Eddie teases as he fully sits up beside you. “Are you alright?” When you nodded, his palm gently reached up to pet your head. “What were you dreaming about? It felt…sad.”

“You don’t know already?”

“I mean, I know it wasn’t one of my memories because you’ve only been dreaming about things that happened after I changed. What I felt right now…I haven’t felt since I was a little kid and my dad would come home drunk.”

“I was dreaming about my mom. When I was kid I used to hide under the dining room table while her and my dad would fight. That’s where I was with you two and…”

“And what?”

“I’m not putting you two in danger am I? I just…with everything that happened and Steve’s fears of you two needing to run again—”

Eddie silenced you by placing his fingers on your lips, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, and bringing you down to lay with your head on his chest. He sighed before telling you his story of a girl named Chrissy who died violently in his trailer and a town that tried to hunt him down for it claiming he was a devil worshipping freak. He explained about an evil being named Vecna who was actually murdering these people and he, Steve, and some others went down to that scary world to stop him.

Eddie told you about the bats he and his friend Dustin were meant to distract so Steve and his friends could get into a house to destroy this being.

His tone became shakier as he talked about buying more time so they could succeed and the battle he faced when he didn’t run away. The feeling of the bats pinning him to the ground and tearing into his flesh.

“The last thing I thought about was Steve. It was like…a montage of our relationship. I just wanted to go back to how things used to be before the murders when we would lay in bed and talk about leaving our stupid town.”, he heavily exhales, kissing your palm as it reaches up to caress his face.

“After I saved him, Steve told me we needed to run. That they still placed the blame on me even though they couldn’t find me. If they found out I wasn’t dead, bad things would happen. Y/N, after everything we’ve been through, these past two days have been nothing. I know that we’re all safe here but Steve always worried we may need to run again. He lost me once, he says… you’re not putting us in any kind of danger, sweetheart. If anything…now we’re putting you in danger.”

“I’m not afraid of you or things that come with you. I meant what I said. I love you both… I want to help and be there for you two anyway I can.”

Eddie smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“I wasn’t too rough with you was I?”

“No. The biting hurt at first but after…when you started draining me… fuck.”

His chest shook as he laughed making you smile as you held him tighter.

“I guess because you still had my blood inside you, you felt what I feel when I’m fucking him.” Lightly but firmly, Eddie tugged your hair back, placing his lips on yours. “You both feel amazing.”

“How much of Eddie was there? You seemed kind of gone.”

“I was there, sweetheart. The vampire kind of took over a bit but, trust me, I was there.”

Rolling on to his side, he kept his arm under your head as his other hand came up to touch your cheek while his eyes ran along your face.

“Next time, I’ll move a bit slower so I can really watch this beautiful face while my cock is stretching you open. Steve was right, you are tight but you took me so well.”

“Y-You felt good. No one’s ever been that deep before except…”

“Steve?” The vampire grins when you nod. “I know how you feel. The first time we were together, I swore I could feel him everywhere.”

“When did he start calling you Daddy?”

His thumb runs along your bottom lip as his now chocolate-colored irises continue to study you, watching as your chest rises and falls as you breathe nervously.

“A couple of months after we started dating, he said he had a fantasy. Steve always felt like he needed to be in control and just wanted to BE controlled in bed.” As you kiss the pad of his finger, he delicately placed it between your lips, his smile growing when your tongue ran along the flesh. “Is that what you need to, sweetheart? Do you need to be taken care of?”

When you nod your head again, he withdraws his thumb and leans over to passionately kiss your lips. Without releasing his hold on the back of your neck, he pulls away, and grazes his noses along yours, panting against your open mouth.

“Can you say it, baby?”

“I need you to take care of me, Daddy.”

############

@chelebelletx @mandyjo8719 @bimbobaggins69

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crooked-wasteland · 9 months

Text

There is much to be said about the latest episode of Helluva Boss, and it is a bit of a tragedy that the animatic release felt like a more complete version of the episode than the actual finished product. From losing out on the visual intensity of Fizzarolli's injuries to the complete erasure of Barbie in the background of the disaster, it feels like these small changes removed the visceral intensity of the scene and its repercussions. Especially as Barbie is now the obvious point of conflict in Blitz's storyline, it feels like the impact of that part of the story is now devalued by her absence.

But that is hardly the end of the issues at play.

Medrano and her team rushed this story arc.

There are clear parallels to Bojack's two major story beats of Bojack abandoning Herb and the Sugarman Summer Home season arc. It is obvious that Blitz and Fizzarolli have a relationship paralleling that of Herb and Bojack in season one. However, Medrano pulls back in a multitude of ways and fails to commit the plot to a natural conclusion. While Herb rejects Bojack due to the fact that the latter never came to check up on him following his public disgrace and outing, Blitz is absolved of even that.

In the Bojack episode, Herb makes it clear that he doesn't blame his old friend for not standing with him when he was removed from Horsing Around. While he may have been upset at one time, he had cooled off and recognized that if the studio had let them both go, that would have been terrible for both of them.

Rather, it was Bojack assuming Herb's desires and thus avoiding his best friend for years under the belief that he had betrayed Herb so completely that the other wouldn't want to see him anyway. Bojack's insecurity was his own undoing in that relationship, even though it showed that both Herb and Bojack were still very compatible friends. Bojack's background of conditional relationships from his own parents set the groundwork for his hyperavoidant personality and how allowing generational trauma to dictate your relationships in life is a good way to lose everyone you ever hope to keep.

Here, Blitz didn't abandon Fizzarolli. Skipping to the end, Blitz was kept from seeing Fizz in the hospital by a currently unknown third party. Which removes his flaws on a fundamental level. While one could argue ripping off the storyline wholesale would have been just as bad, at least it wouldn't feel like a fanfiction retelling of that Bojack episode. It feels like Medrano had a very negative opinion of Herb and how he rejected Bojack and that this reiteration with her own characters is her way of "fixing" that relationship. At the same time, what Blitz ended up doing is far and above worse than Bojack simply not risking his career.

The episode takes the sequence as dark as they'd dare, Fizzarolli crawling out of the explosion as his body burns and disintegrates. The show really does want to bank itself on the emotional impact this sequence should have, picturing how afraid Fizz must be. The amount of pain he would be in as his mangled body turns to ash as he forces himself from the fire. His flesh melted, his horns seared red and glowing like it would if they were made of real keratin, his bones themselves falling apart as he forced his body to escape the disaster. And he calls out to the one person he held such admiration for, his best friend since they were kids, who turns his back on him and runs.

And somehow, that is not the reason the relationship has become so bitter and vile. Not because Fizzarolli, most likely believing he was going to die, watched his best friend run away and "save himself" (from Fizz's perspective), leaving him to die alone in this calamity. It's because Blitz never came to talk to him. And even then, it wasn't Blitz's fault.

While that reveal worked for Bojack and Herb, it doesn't actually work for when a character almost actually loses their life. The figurative end of the world that comes with losing a job you love and a creative passion project stolen and bastardized can not begin to amount to the physical act of dying. That is actually the entire point of Herb's story as well, why Bojack's initial betrayal is forgivable, but his avoidance was not. It's because what felt like the end of life in the moment didn't actually end anything substantial for Herb. He still lived a full and complete life, minus his best friend who left him to rebuild on his own. And you can not, in fact, make up for lost time.

Speaking of comparisons, the dialogue of this sequence in particular feels quite off-putting. Blitz's line of "You have e no idea what I lost in that fire" is accusatory and draws up a direct comparison to what each character lost. Fizzarolli is physically scarred by the events as well as mentally and emotionally. Horns are shown to be a source of social pride for imps, adding self-esteem and identity to the list of things Fizz lost in the disaster. But because it is implied that Blitz's mother actually did die in the fire, that is a tragedy somehow beyond belief for someone like Fizzarolli. It would be safe to assume that Tilla's death would have been felt by everyone who survived the circus, or at the least for the kids. The dialogue sets up a divide that somehow Blitz watching how his careless moodiness almost killed his crush is not at the top of the list of traumas Blitz has to sort through from this sequence is hard to believe.

Speaking of crush.

And that gets to why this episode as a whole fails to work on a fundamental level. For what it is, what it wants to be, and what it is trying to set up, this episode consistently drops the ball. It is confounding to think that Medrano believed that the relationship for Stolas and Blitz was for more necessary to show than this.

This episode should have been a flashback.

The entire episode should have been the lead up to the disaster. Show us the relationship of Blitz and Barbie and Fizzarolli. Show us the way Blitz is treated by others at the circus even as he ages.

Show us Tilla for five minutes for the love of everything meaningful. It's so hard to believe this should be important to the characters or story when we are given nothing concrete about who Tilla was as a person or mother. We lived the flashbacks of Bojack, no matter how short a snippet they were. We experienced Beatrice's callous nature or his father's self-centered abuse. For as important as she is implied to be, Tilla is not so important as to be an active participant in the story.

At the end of all this, I believe that the greatest issues boil down to a set list

- Characters do not have any lasting responsibility to the situation, their actions or the outcome.

- Somehow a character like Tilla who has never been seen and lacks any personality outside of early Steven Universe Rose Quartz perfection is a loss that is elevated over the trauma we are allowed to very distantly experience in Fizzarolli's monologue.

- The fact that we still have no idea about who any of these characters were to appreciate the sense of loss that this episode was supposed to supply.

- Fizzarolli and Blitz make up completely by the end of a single episode.

- The lack of buildup to the disaster causes confusion as to why it ever happens. Blitz throwing the confession letter on the ground and walking away has no rhyme or reason to it.

This episode is a literal laundry list of bad choices and poor structuring. When a school teacher writes in the margin, "Show, don't tell," this is what they are talking about.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivienne medrano #vivziepop #helluva boss #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #vivziepop critique #spindlehorse criticism #spindlehorse critical #here is the real one #pacing who she #i accidentally posted my rough draft

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drewsbuzzcut · 7 months

Text

The Black Suit

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes blurb

warnings: suggestive

“Holy shit. I can’t let you leave,” Dallas blurts out when Nick walks out in his game day suit. An all black look that he looks too good in.

Dallas loops her arms around his neck, bringing her body closer to his. She fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, softly tugging on the strands to get him to lean his head back. Her lips immediately attack his neck, nipping and sucking on the heated flesh.

She just about devours him, her hand wandering down the front of his pants to feel him up.

“Babe- baby, fuck you can’t do this to me right now. You’re going to make me late, or cum in my pants,” Nick groans, breath hitching as Dallas continues her affection.

“It’s not my fault you look sexy. All black looks so good on you. I want you,” she says with a sultry tone. Her lips attach to his, her tongue pushing into his waiting mouth.

His moans bubble out, his hand finding its place on her neck, squeezing until Dallas lets out her own moans.

“I have to go, but we can continue after the game,” Nick whispers into the kiss.

Dallas pouts and says, “fine. No party, though. Just you and me on your bed.”

“Yes, pretty girl. You and me on my bed with my head between your thighs,” he says in her ear, her knees buckling from under her, so she leans more into his sturdy build.

“Ughh, do you have to go? Do they really need you?” Dallas whines, softly tugging on the collar of his button up, kissing the exposed skin.

“Yes, sorry, June bug.” A kiss on her cheek and a kiss on her neck.

“You better score a goal for me,” she sighs after stating her playful demand.

“Yes, ma’am. I got to go, I’ll see you in the stands,” he says, kissing her lips one last time.

a/n: A little something! Nick looks soooo good in the black suit😧🫡🫡

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick x dallas #umich imagine #umich hockey #so it goes au

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ltash · 8 days

Text

Lieutenant Ghost is a big time flirt..

You and Soap end up in Ghost's apartment because he wanted to get some files from there but your LT is a big time flirt and cannot stop flirting with you. He scares the hell out of you everytime.

Ghost opened the door to reveal a yawning Soap.

"So you woke up. Finally." Ghost said.

"Yes LT! Couldn't sleep in the car for that long." Soap said in between yawns.

"Sleep on the couch Johnny." Ghost pointed towards the couch.

"What about Angela?" Soap asked.

"Don't worry about her." Ghost said.

"Ok." Soap said and sunk in the couch.

Ghost took a cushion from another couch throwing at him before coming into the bedroom locking the door behind him.

As I stood there, washing my face, Ghost entered the bathroom, casually removing his zipper hoodie. My eyes widened in surprise as I took in his sculpted physique, adorned with a network of scars, each one telling its own story.

There was a particularly prominent scar on the left side of his ribs, a visible reminder of past battles and close calls.

But what truly caught my attention was the tattoo that adorned his skin, a design I had only glimpsed from a distance before.

Now, standing before me, I could see it clearly, every intricate detail etched into his flesh. It was a mesmerizing sight, drawing me in with its mystery and allure.

"I messed up my clothes love. Going to take a shower. Care to join me?" He asked, his tone playful.

"I don't have the courage plus you can't shower with your mask on Ghost." I replied trying to avoid any further physical contact with him.

I knew I would melt under his touch.

"Why don't we make a deal?" He suggested.

"I take my mask off and you take your clothes off for me." He said stepping very close to me.

Feeling a surge of panic I put both of my hands on his chest, pleading.

"No. Please don't."

"I promise I won't bite." He whispered into my ear.

Flushed and flustered, I bit my lip nervously.

"I can't do this," I stammered before hastily fleeing the bathroom.

His laughter followed me. "Sorry I scared you, love. I was joking," he called after me.

"Don't ever make jokes like that with me. Ever again," I replied firmly, trying to calm my racing heart.

I stormed into the living room, tossing a cushion at Soap. "Get up and go sleep with him," I demanded, pointing towards Ghost's bedroom.

Soap, still groggy, protested, "What? He told me you're not sleeping here."

"Where else am I supposed to sleep then? You two can sleep together on his bed. I'm taking the couch," I declared firmly, settling onto the couch with a cushion in my lap.

As Soap trudged off to his designated room, Ghost emerged from the shower, clad in a grey hoodie and sweatpants.

"Fucking hell! Now I'll have to listen to his snoring all night," Ghost muttered, annoyance clear in his voice.

"Do you want some tea, love?" he asked, rummaging through the cabinets for jars.

"Sure," I replied, trying to push away the lingering discomfort from our earlier encounter.

As I leaned against the counter, watching him put the kettle on the stove, I couldn't shake off the curiosity that had been nagging at me for so long. "Why do you always wear a mask?" I inquired, my voice soft but insistent.

He paused for a moment, seemingly caught off guard by the question. "To hide my face," he replied simply, his tone carrying a weight of finality.

"Yeah, everybody knows that," I countered, pressing further. "But why hide your face?"

"To hide my identity from enemies," he stated, his voice clipped and precise.

I moved closer, closing the distance between us. "Enemies. But why friends? What is our fault?" I chuckled lightly, trying to break the tension that hung in the air.

He didn't answer immediately, and I took the opportunity to continue. "You're perfect in every aspect, and you don't know that. But you can be better than this if you try to be a little less flirtatious," I said, my words pouring out in a rush now.

Its a small part from my original novel on wattpad.

#cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty

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astaraels · 4 months

Text

Ruthless Devotion

they'll make a hundred men bleed raw for the chance to prove themselves. (on canine coded milkoviches.) (ao3)

Put your fucking guard dog on a leash.

Mickey's hands chase over Ian's sides, his teeth nipping at the soft and tender flesh of Ian's lips. There's a soft growl that starts in Mickey's throat and ends up in Ian's own, the two of them pressed as close together as it's possible to be. Heat sears through Ian's body, a delicious high that drugs can't ever seem to replicate. Just Mickey and the way his hands, his lips drive Ian up a wall. There's nothing like him.

Fuck, Ian, he hears Mickey say against his ear, his voice a breathy huff of laughter. Ian can hear the slightest whine in the sound. He'll never admit it, but Mickey likes when Ian makes him just a little bit desperate. There's a lot of things Mickey can't and won't admit to. Like when that guy outside the club told Ian to put your fucking guard dog on a goddamn leash and Ian saw Mickey's shoulders broaden, his whole chest expanding as Mickey inhaled, sharp and sudden.

His guard dog. Protective to a fault, snarling and chasing away anyone he deems unworthy. Mandy had been the same, snapping like a junkyard dog at girls who got too close to Ian in the halls; Ian had to fight the grin that always threatened to cross his face when they did things like that.

He loves fiercely, he knows, but Milkoviches love violently. They love with claws and teeth, loyalty a pale, weak word for what it truly means. Ian doesn't think his love compares, but Mickey and Mandy both stay by his side, refusing to leave. And maybe he had to hold a hand out, let them bite his fingers and draw blood before he gained their trust, but it was worth it. No matter what anyone thinks, they're worth the pain, worth the wounds. Where others see rabid dogs, Ian sees wounded, starving strays in need of protection themselves.

Of course he'd never say it. He'd never tell them that he knows what they are on their insides. Mandy calls herself a bitch, says it proud, dares others to turn it against her. Mickey says he's anything but, that he likes what he likes; the dark and knowing looks he gives to Ian sometimes say otherwise. Where Mandy's all claws, Mickey's all teeth, both of them desperate to dig in and claim territory that they'll defend to death.

Ian's become part of that territory; he's been snapped up by these Milkoviches even with the Gallagher blood in his veins. Like he's a lost fucking sheep they're trying to herd back to safety before the wolves outside can get him. And maybe Mickey's eyes darken when he sees those wolves stalking at Ian's door—Ian knows there's more gazes than Mickey's that linger on his shoulders and his hips, along the hard planes and soft lines of his body. Mickey's there every time he turns around, though, and Ian isn't afraid for himself as long as he has Mickey.

It's not that he's stupid, either; he knows they need protecting, too. They're both the type to leave themselves bleeding, ignore their jagged wounds in favor of his papercuts. So Ian has to look out for them—both of them, because as much as Mickey has clawed his way and made himself a den of Ian's insides, Mandy was always first. And she's always been more fragile. A dog can bite to defend itself, but beat it enough and it learns to keep its teeth in its mouth. That's what Ian's here for, though; he'll keep a knife ready to fight off any man who hurts her, and let her hide her beautiful bruised face in his shoulder so she doesn't show weakness.

And then there's Mickey—Mickey, who even now traces the lines of Ian's ribs, a little too easily seen against the pale skin of his torso. Mickey, who kisses hard like a punch to the jaw and yet sweet like spring rain. Mickey, who has eyes the color of Lake Michigan and just as impossibly deep. Mickey, who came into Ian's life like a car crash and who Ian never wants to let go. It's selfish, maybe; dangerous, certainly. They grin against one another's mouths and Ian traces his tongue over Mickey's teeth.

Mickey is a guard dog, fierce in devotion and determined to protect what's his. And maybe Ian shouldn't like the way that Mickey snaps and snarls, straining to be let off the leash and bring down violence on anyone who dares look at Ian like he's only there to be used up and spat back out. It doesn't matter that Mickey looks at Ian like a piece of rare meat, because from him there's a longing and a neediness that goes with it. There's a craving, a desire that goes beyond the surface—he knows that his body is only one of the many things Mickey wants, unlike those other men. Mickey will take anything Ian gives him, the pain and the pleasure mixing between their bodies.

It sends a perverse kind of lust through Ian when he sees Mickey's inked knuckles causing bruises to bloom on the jaws and eyes of nameless men with bad intentions. There's a delicious sort of dizziness, knowing how much Mickey enjoys it, too. And maybe Ian and Mickey have bad intentions with each other, too, but those are dark desires that they only share with each other. The way Ian nuzzles against Mickey's neck, smelling the heady, sharp scent of his cologne, and Mickey clutches at him with need. He wants, he wants, he wants…and he knows Mickey wants to give him everything.

Guard dogs off their leashes—that's what Mickey and Mandy are. Ian would never claim to know how to tame them, would never want to anyway, but they're both so beautiful in how dangerous they can be. It's different, the way he loves each of them, how they love each other, but the three of them have found a way to carve out some existence that fits them well. Ian knows what it feels like to cradle their jaws in his hands, to press his lips against the pale skin of their cheeks. They've let him in and let him see their vulnerability. Guard dogs who guard themselves fiercely. Mickey sleeps curled up by Ian's bed each night, putting himself between Ian and whatever threat might come.

And Ian knows it might be wrong. Hell, he sees the looks his family gives him, when Mandy would defend him a little too loud, when Mickey does anything for Ian without being asked. He knows what it looks like. But god, he doesn't care. That kind of devotion means everything coming from them. Coming from a Milkovich, it's a declaration of love.

Right now he's buried himself deep inside Mickey, the rough brick biting into Mickey's back as they move together. Ian bites down on perfect, smooth skin as Mickey growls Ian's name against his ear. The want and need, the pleasure and pain, it all comes together in this single unmatched moment. He hitches Mickey's leg up higher and tightens his grip in Mickey's hair, dull teeth sharp against Mickey's delicate neck.

He's not the only one with claws and fangs.

There's a pull and a groan, heat scorching through Ian's body as he moves; he feels Mickey's body pressed against his own, tight and tense like a live wire. There's a frenzied kiss, blood on their lips and it doesn't matter whose. The sounds of their breaths coming harsh and jagged break through the distant noises of the city. Ian doesn't fucking care about anything else in this moment, this white-hot moment where he can love Mickey Milkovich exactly as he deserves. Loyalty and devotion rewarded, as they should be. The only one who gets this from Ian, and it's all Mickey's alone. Those other men don't own Ian's heart, not even his body, despite what they may think.

Mickey's head nearly smacks against the brick as he comes apart, shuddering, unable to hold himself together. This is the part that Ian loves, that he always tries to watch if he can. Watching the moment where Mickey takes something for himself instead of giving it away so easily. And he still gives it to Ian—he gives his body to Ian so many times, every day and every way he can—but this, this moment where he breaks into pieces and pulls Ian's pleasure into himself. Like he'd devour Ian whole if he had the chance.

And Ian knows he'd let him. Would do it without a second thought. He knows he'll never find it again, this ruthless devotion that came to him with harsh, clear blue eyes and bruised, gentle knuckles that threaten violence at every moment. He buries himself inside Mickey—he doesn't want to come up for air, just wants to breathe him in until that scent is all he knows. It's the way Mickey sends him out of his head and yet grounds him unlike anything else. His guard dog, his leashed protector. Mickey would make the world bleed for Ian. Maybe it should scare him.

It only makes Ian love him more.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #mandy milkovich #milkoviches x canines #please enjoy.... *gestures vaguely* whatever this is #worst time to post this? probably #leinth writes fic #gallavich fanfic #shameless fic #shameless #lil pit bull and her orange cat

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sunkissed-zegras · 9 months

Text

✮ 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬, zegras' have more fun

♡ ─ summary | media day pictures (NOT MINE AND IT'S NOT THE FC) and something makes the jack stans go crazy

♡ ─ warnings | light-hearted flirting/arguing, brief mention of hate crimes (ITS A JOKE THOUGH), hughes bros being dumb (not trev for once LMAO)

♡ ─ taglist | tbd

♡ ─ ev's notes | this lowkey eats I MISSED THIS AU

back to navigation back to AU masterlist

stasszegras ann arbor, michigan

Liked by trevorzegras, lhughes_06, jackhughes and 9,935 more

stasszegras | media day pics, first (official) fnl + WENT LOWKEY VIRAL ON TIKTOK???? tagged: pchandler68, umichfootball, lucafantilli september 23th, 2022

View all 1,008 comments

briesbagels | my favorite tiktok influencer 🤭

↳ stasszegras stop it. 😐

↳ briesbagels 3 million views on a tiktok IS CRAZYYY

↳ stasszegras it's only cus luke was in the video

↳ lhughes_06 clout chaser 😝

briesbagels | LAST PIC OF LUCA IS HORRENDOUS PLS STASS 😫😫

↳ lucafantilli ok this one hurts brie, i thought u were on my side

↳ briesbagels its either u or stass (im choosing my girl)

↳ stasszegras 🤭😏😍

↳ pchandler68 hmmmmm 😏😏

↳ adamfantilli 🥸🥸

↳ stasszegras what's goin on here.... 😥

umichwsoccer | THATS OUR GIRL! 🫡〽️

↳ stasszegras 🤞🏼🤞🏼

jackhughes | wowww okay stassie.. 🤞🏼🤩 woo 😮‍💨😮‍💨

↳ trevorzegras 😟😟 oh no

↳ lhughes_06 since when we callin her stassie????

↳ jackhughes WE?? get ur own nickname lukey 😑😑

↳ stasszegras k y'all let's just stick to stass or little zegras 😶

↳ trevorzegras @/griffinzegras

↳ griffinzegras bffr right now 📸📸📸 aren't you like 30 jack??

↳ jackhughes actually i'm 21 so calm the FUCKK down... and i was just being nice and friendly griff come on now

↳ briesbagels and thats why we wear sunscreen kids 🥴

↳ griffinzegras yea maybe a little too friendly..

↳ stasszegras guys im gonna disable my comments if u keep arguing like 12 year olds

↳ trevorzegras mhm yeah and thats the ONLY REASON why you would wanna disable the comments

lucafantilli | last pic should be considered a hate crime bro how'd u even get that

↳ stasszegras don't ask stupid questions like that luca

↳ adamfantilli 🥸🥸

↳ lucafantilli MY OWN BROTHER?!?!?!

↳ lhughes_06 i guess we are all getting betrayed by our flesh and blood rn 😪

↳ jackhughes be so fr rn lukey

↳ trevorzegras agreed luke

↳ jackhughes 😑😑

↳ pchandler68 interesting.. 📸

quinnhughes | you ate little zegras 🫡

↳ stasszegras thanks quinner 🫶🏼

↳ trevorzegras YEA this is really being friendly @/jackhughes

↳ jackhughes bro. let this go.

↳ quinnhughes leave me the fuck outta this guys, please 😁

lhughes_06 | gonna win us a jr world cup zegras ✊🏼

↳ stasszegras YESSS SIR 🫡🫡〽️〽️ but thats not how it works buddy

↳ lhughes_06 there's no jr world cup????

↳ jackhughes messi is rolling in his grave rn

↳ stasszegras messi is alive????

↳ briesbagels no way bro 😭😭

↳ quinnhughes LMAO PLEASE 😭

pchandler68 | LUCA LOL PLEASE HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

↳ lucafantilli count your days chandler

↳ pchandler68 wait no luca im sorry

↳ lucafantilli its ur fault u introduced me and stass and NOW LOOK. all the hoes are gone

↳ stasszegras 😑😑😑

↳ adamfantilli not all of them.....🥯🥯🥯

↳ lucafantilli shut up adam.

↳ pchandler68 wait what??...

adamfantilli future manager AND she plays for our soccer team?? it's perfect 🤞🏼🤞🏼

↳ stasszegras hahaahaha no.

↳ nolan_moyle STASS PLEASE

↳ stasszegras stop harassing me nolan

jhughesnews

Liked by njdevilfan09, briesbagels, zegrasluvr898 and 4,509 more

jhughesnews | jack hughes and anastasia zegras are reportedly going out after he comments a suggestive comment on her most recent post. thoughts???

View all 2,190 comments

fan01 | WHAT?? NO WAY????? WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME

fan02 | guys they are just friends, if u guys look at her other posts he makes those kinda jokes all the time

↳ fan03 nah bro did u see trevor and griffin's comments? they obviously know something we don't

↳ fan02 yeah but that's their humor

fan04 | good 😭😭😭 for😭😭😭 them 😭😭😭

fan05 | didn't she go out with luke too 😐

↳ fan06 damn she wants the whole crew

↳ fan07 who can blame her tho??? have u seen them 🤭🤭

↳ fan08 no she didn't lmao, those were also JUST rumors and it's obvious they're just friends

fan09 | guys stop it, these are baseless rumors and REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS TO TAYLOR ALL THE TIME, stass is great just by herself 🫶🏼

↳ fan10 all right girl..

↳ fan11 its giving "coach is right guys... 😣"

↳ fan12 im crying BYEEE PLEASE 😭😭😭😭

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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0blobthefish0 · 5 months

Text

Inevitable

severus snape masterlist | main masterlist

Severus Snape x Female Reader 576 words

The winner of this vote - I was surprised honestly, I thought Johanna was sure to win. I forget how big the harry potter fandom is 😅

Severus stops dead in his tracks. His heart drops to his stomach, the acid burning at its flesh and it contracts painfully - trying to disappear. Trying to make itself as small as possible. This can't be real. He's dreaming; it's just another one of his nightmares. He feels ill.

You're bleeding. A jagged gash cuts across the smooth skin of your left cheek, he would know, he can't count the countless times he's rubbed over your cheek with the pad of his thumb. It feels like a jab at him - you; sitting there. His fault. It was all his fault. His girl. His Y/n. The ring on your finger the only proof of that fact. But he knows that can't be true, the more logical part anyway, nobody knows, not a single soul, except for the two of you.

It's hard to breathe, his chest can't expand properly and his throat begins the seize up. He wants to leave. He wants to go back home, to where you're reading a book on the sofa with your favourite socks on, the fire crackling and dinner's still cooking on the stove. He's trying to remember, he knows it's coming, you both do.

"Tell us!" Bellatrix hisses and you flinch away. His heart aches for you and he wills for it to be all over soon. You stay silent, and he's proud of you. He can tell by your slumped figure and the way that you're unable to hold your head up, that you've been here a while. Being tortured, all the while that he was none the wiser.

Bellatrix's jaw clenches and her nails curl into a fist, cutting into her skin. She raises her wand sharply as she storms toward you.

"Stop."

Severus' eyes widen, before he realises that he hadn't opened his mouth. The Dark Lord raises from his seat, the snake at his feet as Bellatrix hangs her head low and hastily retraces her steps. Fear. That's all Severus can see as he scans the room. And you look so small. So fragile.

"Severus." All eyes turn to him and they all take a step back, creating a circle around him. His gaze turns to the Dark Lord.

"Yes, my Lord?" You're looking at him now, you've mustered up the strength. And his heart breaks. He can see it in your eyes.

"Kill her." And Severus wants to rip out his throat, he sounds so bored. He nods his head, lightly, and turns to you. He knows he has to. He knew he had to as soon as he saw you.

He raises his wand steadily. It looks more deadly now than it has in a while.

"Severus.." You whisper and he dies right there and then. To everyone else you sound as if you're pleading him to spare you - to him, you've just told him goodbye, and that you love him.

He squeezes his left fist before a green flash strikes you. And you're dead. Just like that, here one second and gone the next. Gods, you didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve you.

Severus stares at your limp form, your fingers bare, but no one else is paying attention to that.

He squeezes his left palm once again, the ring pushing into his calloused skin. He wants the imprint to bruise, he wants to feel something for this moment because he knows that he won't feel your death until it's too late.

#female reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #harry potter fandom #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #severus snape #angst #Blob's fics

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parkerslatte · 1 year

Text

Songbird || TWELVE

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of blood

Word Count: 3.7k

Part Summary: The band records songs for Aurora and Y/N attends a party with Daisy.

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•••

TRACK TWELVE;

MANEATER

...

DAISY JONES: We must’ve written eight or nine songs the first couple weeks. I would have an idea, and then he’d flesh it out, or he would come up with a riff, and I’d come up with a melody line.

BILLY DUNNE: When you’re making an album, any album, it’s an intimate thing. I mean, it has to be.

DAISY JONES: Which isn’t to say we didn’t fight.

BILLY DUNNE: Oh we were fighting constantly.

WARREN ROJAS: For a month it was like that. We’d be in the studio, you know, recording all the arrangements, and they’d be who knows where doing god knows what.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Everyday they’d come in with something new.

KAREN SIRKO: I mean great fucking songs.

Y/N L/N: Even though I didn’t want to be in the band, I can’t fault the songs, they were great, amazing even.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: And every night, they’d come in giggling like two little schoolgirls.

INTERVIEWER: Did it concern you?

GRAHAM DUNNE: Not really. Not yet, anyway. I mean…like whatever they were doing…it was working.

INTERVIEWER: How was Y/N adjusting to being in a band?

KAREN SIRKO: She adjusted well, it was only the arguments that was a concern.

…

“I did everything you told me to do, Billy!” Y/N yelled into the microphone.

“But it’s not good enough,” Billy says from the booth, “Try again.”

Y/N sighed, and began to play again but as soon as she started playing, Billy cut her off again.

“In what possible way was that wrong,” Y/N exclaimed, “I played one note.”

“It was the wrong note.” Billy says, trying to remain calm.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “You need to get your hearing checked.”

Billy turns to Teddy, “It was the right note, Billy.”

A smirk appeared on Y/N’s face at Billy’s annoyed expression.

“Again.” Billy ordered.

Once again as soon as Y/N began to play Billy interrupted her.

“Right,” Y/N says, “This is bullshit.”

Y/N lifted the guitar and placed it back on its stand. With one final glare at Billy, she left the room, joining the rest of the band.

“You finished?” Karen questioned.

“Nope,” Y/N said, flopping down on the couch next to Eddie, “Apparently Billy needs to get his hearing checked because everything I’m doing is wrong.”

Billy came storming out of the booth, his eyes focussed on Y/N, “Get back in the studio now, Y/N, you’re wasting time.”

“Why?” Y/N questioned, “So you can stop me every two seconds, I’d say you’re the one who’s wasting time.”

“Billy, just give her a break,” Karen says, “She’s been in the studio all day.”

“And so have the rest of us.” Billy says.

“Yeah, but we haven’t been yelled at for the past two hours.” Eddie muttered.

Billy sent a glare Eddie’s way before his gaze landed back on Y/N, “Y/N, get back in the studio.”

…

KAREN SIRKO: Billy didn’t know when to stop when he argued with Y/N.

WARREN ROJAS: Y/N never let her emotions show much, but I could tell that she was getting to her breaking point.

CAMILA DUNNE: I knew how Billy was treating Y/N and I wasn’t standing for it. She was my best friend and he was treating her awfully. I knew they didn’t like each other but that was no excuse.

BILLY DUNNE: Y/N got on my last nerve. She always wanted things her way.

Y/N L/N: Billy was a controlling prick.

DAISY JONES: I knew that Y/N didn’t want to be in the band, and I didn’t understand why she was in the band. Her talent shouldn’t have been pushed to the side like it was.

…

The band sat around in the studio waiting for Billy and Y/N to come back with their new song. Y/N sat with her guitar, carelessly strumming a tune she had come up with, humming along to lyrics she had written months ago that was meant to be for her album.

“I like that melody.” Graham says.

“Thanks,” Y/N smiled, “I was working on it for my album.”

Graham began to listen to the song as Y/N continued to strum her guitar. As he began to play her own guitar, working with what Y/N had already created, she turned to him and smiled. One by one each member of the band began to play along with Y/N and Graham. It didn’t sound fantastic but to Y/N it sounded like the most amazing thing in the world.

“Sing the song.” Graham says.

“I wrote the song as a duet,” Y/N says, “Eddie, would you be able to sing the other part.”

“Me?” Eddie questioned.

Y/N smiled and reached down to her bag and pulled out her notebook, turning to the correct page and held it out to Eddie.

“The green ink is what you’re meant to sing. You’ll pick up the melody.”

Everyone began to play what they were before, slowly getting a good balance. Y/N began to sing everything melted away, the only thing she concentrated on was the music. Y/N signalled that Eddie should start singing. As he began he was out on timing which caused Y/N to smile but he soon got into a rhythm.

Their voices complimented each other perfectly. Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Every member of the band got into the rhythm of the song, fully enjoying themselves for not being told what to do, they all got to freely play what they wanted.

The door to the studio opened and in walked Billy and Daisy. Daisy slowed down her walk as she listened to the song, meanwhile Billy let out an annoyed sigh. Y/N was the first to notice and she stopped singing and playing, everyone followed her actions.

“What’s going on here?” Billy questioned.

“Y/N wrote a song and we were playing around with it,” Graham answered, “It’s a great song.”

“It’s not going on the album.” Billy says.

“Come on,” Warren says, “It’s a great fucking song.”

“It’s not going on the album.” Billy repeated.

“I think it should go on the album.” Daisy intervened.

“Thank you Daisy.” Y/N says and Billy rolls his eyes.

“It’s not going on the album,” Billy says, “And that’s final.”

“Okay,” Daisy challenged, “Then I want Y/N to sing The River with me.”

The room fell silent.

“It’s one or the other Billy,” Daisy says, “Her song goes on the album or she sings The River with me.”

…

Y/N L/N: Originally I never wanted my song to go on the album, but the look on Billy’s face when Daisy gave him that ultimatum was what made me want to have my song on the album.

DAISY JONES: We recorded Y/N’s song that day.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Y/N’s song was my favourite on the album, still is.

WARREN ROJAS: I think that was the most laid back recording we did. Y/N took the reins on it and let us fuck around with it. It was a good day.

…

“Camila!” Y/N says, entering the house through the front door.

“Y/N,” Camila says, coming around the corner, “I didn’t know you were coming around today.”

“It wasn’t originally,” Y/N admitted, “But figured that since Billy isn’t here, I would come around. I haven’t seen Julia in ages. How are you by the way? We haven’t had the chance to sit and talk in a while.”

“I’ve been okay,” Camila says, sitting down on the couch next to Y/N, “I’ve been busy with Julia, she’s getting to the point where I can’t leave her unattended for too long or they’ll be another broken glass on the floor.”

“Billy hasn’t helped at all?” Y/N questioned.

“He has barely been here,” Camila says, an edge to her voice, “And when he is here, he’s always on the phone with Daisy.”

“I would say that I would have a talk with him, but we all know how that would go, so…”

Camila laughed, “It’s fine, you don’t need to talk to him, I’ll try to when he gets home, whenever that will be.”

“Hey, if you ever need help with anything, you can call me and I’ll answer and be here as quick as I can.” Y/N says, talking ahold of Camila’s hand, “If you need any help with Julia or even a break from her, I’ll babysit her and you can go and take as many photos until you literally can’t anymore.”

“Oh,” Camila says, getting to her feet, “That reminds me.”

Camila walked to the other side of the room and opened a drawer, “I forgot I developed these photos ages ago and I thought you would want them.”

Walking back over to Y/N, Camila handed her three photos and Y/N’s heart sank. The photos were of her and Eddie from the Christmas her first single was released. The first photo was just after Y/N handed Eddie his gift. The two were looking intently into each other’s eyes, a look of adoration on their faces.

Flipping to the next photo, Y/N’s heart sank even more when she saw it. In the photo, she was staring at the camera with a smile while Eddie looked at her. The look on his face couldn’t have been mistaken for anything other than love.

The final photo ripped Y/N’s heart out and threw it on the ground. The photo was taken when neither of them were aware. The two were cuddled up on the couch. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around Eddie’s torso while his arm was wrapped around her waist and the other held onto her arm. Her head rested on his chest while his head was dipped, his lips brushing her forehead.

“When did you take this photo?” Y/N questioned.

“The same day,” Camila says, “It was a cute photo, I took it when you both weren’t looking.”

“Stalker.” Y/N jokes.

Y/N placed the photos back in a stack and handed them back to Camila.

“Don’t you want them?” Camila questioned, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I just-I just don’t think I need them.” Y/N says.

Camila saw right through Y/N’s lie, “What else is going on? Because months ago, you would have been excited to have these.”

Y/N sighed, “Nothing’s going on-”

“Is anything going on between you and Eddie?” Camila questioned.

“What?” Y/N says, “No, there’s nothing going on.”

“Are you sure because the two of you have been acting like strangers for months now.” Camila points out.

Y/N shrugged, “We just grew apart. I was busy working on my non-existent album and he was working with the band, we just haven’t had the time to talk and hang out.” Y/N hated how easily the lie rolled off her tongue.

“Are you sure nothing’s going on?” Camila asks.

“I’m sure,” Y/N says, “There is nothing going on between me and Eddie.”

…

Y/N L/N: All of these lies were eating me alive. Of course there was something going on, but at the time I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was, I had never felt that way before so it was all new for me.

…

The next day, Y/N was sitting in the studio, bored out of her mind. They were meant to be recording vocals for Aurora but Daisy never showed up. With her notebook in hand, Y/N was just colouring in the page out of pure boredom. They had all been sitting there for hours.

“Did you try her room?” Teddy asked.

“Yeah, couple times,” Billy says, “I’m worried something’s happened.”

“She’s probably just off somewhere.” Teddy suggested.

“No,, no this is her record as much as it’s mine. Something’s not right,” Billy says, “I got to go.”

“I’ll go with you.” Teddy offered.

“No, it’s worse if the principal comes.”

“Well, take Warren.” Teddy says.

“I can handle it.” Billy says, walking out of the studio.

Y/N looks to where he had disappeared before throwing her notebook down and followed after him. Just as he started up his car, Y/N climbed into the passenger seat.

“What are you doing Y/N?” Billy sighed.

“Look, we don’t like each other, cool,” Y/N says, “But I care about Daisy too, so let’s just go.”

Surprisingly, Billy didn’t argue. He simply nodded and pulled away from the studio.

As the two arrived at the hotel, music was blaring out and shouting was heard for every direction. Y/N and Billy slowly walked closer to the pool where they found Daisy.

“Y/N,” Billy says, “Can you give us a minute?”

“What? Why? I want to see-”

“Y/N, just go.” Billy says.

Sighing, Y/N sat down on a chair, watching the interaction between Daisy and Billy. Y/N had never been one to pry into people’s relationships but she didn’t quite understand what was going on between Daisy and Billy. One moment, they were acting like the best friends in the world and then the next they were acting like they detested each other. Y/N couldn’t work it out.

As Daisy climbed out of the pool, Y/N watched as the glass dug into her feet, causing them to bleed. Y/N winced, standing to her feet.

“Say, hi to Camila for me!” Daisy called to Billy as he stormed off.

“Billy, wait!” Y/N says as he leaves the hotel grounds. Y/N contemplated following him as he was her only way home but she decided against it, opting to check on Daisy.

“Let me guess,” Daisy says, “You’re here to yell at me as well.”

Y/N says, “No, not at all, unlike Billy I know what a fun time looks like.” Y/N lied, she had been annoyed with how late Daisy was but she wasn’t going to outright be angry about it like Billy was.

Y/N looked down at Daisy’s feet, “Can I clean that up?”

Daisy looked down at her feet and watched as the blood mixed with the water, “I’m fine.” As she tried to walk away, Daisy limped, in obvious pain.

“Look, I’ll make a promise,” Y/N says, “You let me clean that up and I’ll happily leave you alone to do whatever you want.”

“Why don’t you join me?” Daisy says.

Y/N sighs, “As long as I can clean that up.”

Daisy rolled her eyes and sat down and Y/N rushed to find a bandage and some alcohol, the latter being much easier to find. After getting some bandages, Y/N went back to Daisy who was miraculously in the same place.

Bending down, Y/N inspected her foot, luckily there wasn’t any glass embedded into her foot so it would be rather easy to clean up.

“Okay,” Y/N says, unscrewing the bottle of alcohol, “This will probably sting a little bit.”

Daisy nods before Y/N pours the alcohol onto the cuts. Daisy winced but Y/N continued to wipe away the blood, disinfecting the cuts. As Y/N wrapped her foot in the bandage, Daisy watched her intently.

“There,” Y/N says, “Just please don’t put your foot in the pool again, I don’t think I can find any more bandages.”

Daisy put her foot down on the floor and looked at Y/N. She didn’t say anything before reaching down and picking up the bottle of alcohol, “No your end of the deal.”

Y/N smirked and took the bottle of alcohol from Daisy and took a long swig.

***

“Where’s Y/N?” Warren asked as Billy entered the studio alone.

Billy looked around, like he was surprised that Y/N wasn’t with him, “I think she’s still with Daisy.”

“You think?” Eddie says, “You just left her?”

“Yes Eddie I did,” Billy says, “I had more important things on my mind.”

“Look,” Karen spoke up, already sensing the tension, “She’s probably fine, she’ll either stay with Daisy or she’ll find her own way home, she always does, there’s no point in worrying.”

No one said anything as Billy picked up his guitar case and left swiftly without a word to anyone.

Back at the house, Eddie was finding it difficult to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt fully awake. Every time he tried to get comfortable, it would only turn into the most uncomfortable position only moments later.

As Eddie closed his eyes for hopefully the final time that night, the phone began to ring in the living room. Due to having the room closest to the living room, Eddie flipped the covers off and got out of bed. As he passed the clock on the wall he took notice of the time. Four in the morning.

Picking up the phone, Eddie answered it.

“Hello?” Eddie says.

There was a long pause before there was an answer, “Eddie?”

“Y/N?” Eddie says, “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know where I am.” Y/N says.

“What do you mean?” Eddie questions.

“I lost Daisy,” Y/N says, her words barely legible, “So I continued to drink without her and this guy gave me some pills and I took them.”

“Y/N, are you okay?” Eddie asked, suddenly fully alert.

“I’m-I’m fine,” Y/N says, “I went to walk home but I think I took a wrong turn.”

“Can you describe what’s around you?” Eddie questions.

There was a pause before Y/N answered, “It’s too dark. I don’t think I’m that far away from the hotel.”

“Okay, Y/N, stay where you are, I’m coming to get you.” Eddie says and hangs up the phone.

Only picking up a jacket before he left the house, Eddie got into the van and pulled out of the driveway. His heart was beating fast as he drove, the only thing he thought about was Y/N. As he neared the hotel, he slowed down and kept an eye out for her. There wasn’t much around at all, simply a road and trees with a few houses scattered down it.

As Eddie drove further down the road, he spotted a payphone box and a person sat down next to it. Immediately Eddie got out of the van and ran the small distance.

“Y/N.” Eddie says softly.

Y/N looked up and she smiled, “Eddie…”

Y/N was shivering and goose bumps covered her skin. Pulling off his jacket, Eddie placed it around her and helped her to her feet.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N says as his arm wrapped around her waist as he helped her to the van.

“For what?” Eddie questioned.

“For dragging you out here in the middle of the night.” Y/N says, clutching onto Eddie.

“Don’t apologise.” Eddie says, helping her into the van.

Y/N pulled his jacket tighter around her body as she sat safely in the passenger seat of the car. Eddie got in and began to drive back to the house. Y/N didn’t say anything the entire way there, she simply looked out of the window at the world passing by. She was fully aware of Eddie continuously sneaking glances at her.

As they arrived back at the house, Eddie tried to help Y/N out of the van but she pushed him away, “I’m fine, Eddie.”

“You sure don’t look fine,” Eddie says, “You don’t normally get this bad, Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Y/N questioned, “Well I have all the reason to be.”

Y/N sniffled, trying to fight back the tears she had been keeping at bay for months.

“I’ve had everything I’ve ever been working towards taken from me,” Y/N says, “My album was the one thing I’ve always wanted to do and now that opportunity is gone. I never wanted to join the band and now I have and I haven’t been more miserable in my whole life. Billy never lets me have any creative freedom, and everything I do is wrong. I can’t do anything right in his eyes. I am a singer and a songwriter and it’s been taken away from me. ”

“You have one song on the album.” Eddie says, trying to look at the positives.

“A song that I wrote for my album.” Y/N says, finally letting the tears fall, “I wrote that song with the idea of you singing it with me. I wrote it for us.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he didn’t know what to say. Y/N looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. Reaching up, Eddie cupped her cheeks and gently wiped them away. He stepped closer to her, decreasing the distance between them.

Y/N continued to stand there, not knowing how to react. Her thoughts weren’t clear and she didn’t know what to say.

Looking down at Y/N, Eddie began to lean forward, his lips inched towards hers like it was a magnetic pull driving them together. Eddie couldn’t help himself, the feeling of Y/N’s lips on his was a feeling he craved, it was as if it were his own personal high and he needed a constant fix. Y/N, noticing this, pushed him away harshly.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Y/N whispered.

“I-I-” Eddie cut himself off because he didn’t really have an answer.

“No, Eddie,” Y/N mumbled, “You’re being mean.”

“I’m not,” Eddie begs, “I’m not, I’m sorry.”

Y/N shook her head, “You are, you don’t do that to someone. You can’t do that to someone. You don’t mess with someone’s feelings like that. Don’t talk to me again.”

With that, Y/N walked back into the house leaving Eddie outside on his own. Eddie remained there in silence for a moment, processing everything. He wished he could rewind time and never did what he did. Angrily, Eddie turned around and punched the wall. Almost immediately he brought his hand to his chest, cradling it. There were cuts on his knuckles and bruises would certainly form, but Eddie didn’t care.

The pain made him aware of what he did. The pain on the outside reflected the pain he was feeling on the inside.

…

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: Everything I did that night, I regretted. I ruined what was left of my friendship with Y/N. I loved her, but I ruined that. And I only made everything more complicated from there.

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