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carolmunson · 11 months

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is he rich like me? (wealthy!s.h. x thick!reader)

desc: hi, we've missed you here at slate insurance hq. i've been working on this WIP since i think october, having the initial idea back then and then going back and forth on it for a million years. anyway, i finally finished it. you and big money steve are finally both on the same page, so here's some porn with plot. big money steve is big money steve, and he loves to spoil his girl. especially before a big dinner deal closing with a new client. tw: 18+ minors dni. p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving), some daddy kink (it's steve c'mon) but he's pathetic, some breeding kink. casual dominance. big wealthy tings. recommended listening: time of the season - the zombies

"what's your name? who's your daddy? is he rich like me?"

Big boxes and gifts were nothing new anymore. Selfishly, they'd become expected whenever you walked in the door from work. Though, if it were totally up to Steve, you would have quit your job the moment the last box of your things came past the threshold of his Tribeca apartment in January. But having at least some semblence of your old life was important to you -- and Robin would lose her mind if she didn't have you to share an office with anymore. Steve on the otherhand, was adamant that once the first baby was on the way, you'd put your career behind you. Presumptiuous of course, considering you weren't even engaged. Tonight was a dinner -- not for the both of you, but for business. Sales pitches, deal closings, re-enrollment. He'd never take you a steakhouse for a date, he'd rather die. But, always a steakhouse for business, 'It's just more -- I don't know how to explain it baby -- money talk, red meat, stuff like that. I know you hate it, I'm sorry, but it just looks good when I bring my girl with me.' He'd make it up to you every time with a new dress, a new pair of shoes, his lips on your neck, your knees to your chest. This dinner was no different, coming in from a nail appointment and a pedicure out to see an array of boxes laid out on your side of the bed. Your main component, which you were expected to wear to dinner tonight, was a black silk dress. "It looks small, Steve," you mumble, holding it up by the skinny straps. Sometimes your wonder if he forgets how full your hips are, how things that look chic on Kate Moss can sometimes look suggestive on you. Not that he minded, he was always very suggestive whenever you dressed up.

"It got it tailored to your measurements, so it shouldn't be," he explains while tying his tie in the mirror, "Just put it on, baby. The car's gonna be here soon."

You huff a little, turning on your heels to his walk in closet -- it might as well be a second bedroom with how big it was. You laid the dress down on the center island where he keeps all of his ties and watches in specially made drawers. You eyed the dress for a moment -- it really was beautiful. Black as night with a high slit on the right side -- of course he made sure it showed some leg so he could run his fingers along the hem under the table.

You take a look at yourself in the mirror in the long line black bustier he bought you. Breasts lifted and high, nearly spilling out of the cups. You'd never seen something without straps have so much support. But then again, you'd never had a bra be custom made either. The matching satin panties sat high on your waist, cut high enough that you'd never see the lines under the silk dress.

Moment of truth, I guess, you think, taking the dress and stepping into it. You waited for the resistance when you pulled it up over your hips but it never came. You waited for the uncomfortable pull of trying to get the skinny straps over your arms and shoulders, but it didn't happen. The dress slid on like butter, like it was made for you.

Oh yeah, duh, it was made for you.

"Can you help me with the zipper, honey?" you call out. Steve still loses his breath when you call him a pet name. So overwhelmed that you want him, that you call him baby and handsome and honey. Honey, honey, honey. Maybe someday husband. Maybe.

He steps into the room with purpose, stopping short when he sees you in the dress.

"Oh, wow," he gasps, "Wow, wow, wow."

"Stop," you bloom heat when he eyes you, "C'mon help me, we gotta go soon."

He steps behind you and you can smell the cedar and sandalwood in his cologne -- having long traded his Aqua di Gio for Creed's 1992 Bois du Portugal. His fingers are warm when he trails his middle and pointer up the skin of your back where the zipper opens, just to watch you shiver. He hooks the closure at the top carefully before pulling the tab at the bottom to slowly close the dress up. At the finish, everything is pulled into place. It was perfect. Dipping and flouncing exactly where you wanted it too, every curve perfectly showcased.

“Do you know where my clutch is?” you ask him in the mirror while his fingers trace your shoulders.

“It’s on the island in the kitchen,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss over the strap of the dress, “But I have another surprise for you.”

“Another?” you ask, eyes wide. He already bought you the dress, the shoes, the lingerie. What else was left?

"Close your eyes." You do, you hear him open one of the drawers and can feel him behind you when something cold hits your chest. He fastens it at the back of you -- you know it's a necklace but it must be nice if he's having you close your eyes.

"Keep 'em closed, baby."

You hear him come around to the front of you, adjusting the necklace, feeling his breath againt your ear. His fingers trail from your shoulder, down your arm to lift your left hand up, "Stay like that." Your heart hammers, but quickly fades out when you feel him put on a bracelet. His delicate touches quicken your pulse, his scent makes your mouth water. Steve had a way of making everything romantic -- getting coffee, going to the grocery store, taking out the trash, putting jewelry on you. Jewelry he bought. Jewelry you know you'll love.

"And lastly..." he continues, while putting your hand down. His nose brushes your cheek when his nimble fingers click a pair of earrings into place -- they're heavy and cold. "Harrington," you sigh, squirming at the pinch of the back going too far into your lobes, "I can put these on myself." "Don't be such a baby, Manhattan," he tsks, smoothing your hair away from your ears before standing back and looking at you. He smiles big at the sight, you simply adorned in his gifts. Steve doesn't know whether to cry or kiss you when he feels his heart leap in his chest. It happens all the time when he stares too long at you, no matter what you're doing. You're his. "Can I open them?" "You can open them," he encourages. When your eyes flutter open and adjust to the light, you see them in the mirror. A platinum set tennis necklace sat across your chest, a matching bracelet on your wrist. Earrings in your ears to complete the collection. You gape at your reflection, mouth hanging open while you try to wrap your head around it -- about how much money you're wearing right now.

"Steven -- they're beautiful..." you gasp out. He stands behind you in the mirror again, grinning at your reaction.

"Sorry there's no ring," he pouts before kissing your cheek, "Not yet, at least."

It was an every other day mention -- the ring. You'd only been officially together for half a year, but Steve knew what he wanted. It felt like you both had been together for six years anyway. You knew the ins and outs of each other, literally and figuratively -- there couldn't be anyone else quite like him. It helt like you both had PHDs in each other's likes and dislikes, needs and wants, goals and dreams.

"Don't worry," you breathe, still not over the sparkle on the rest of your limbs, "This is...this is plenty, babe." He burns in his cheeks -- babe. He's your babe! He presses a kiss to your cheek, settling by your ear to mumble a heady 'I love you,' from the deep base of his chest. His lower lip coasts your earlobe and your eyes roll back in your head, feeling his warm breath fan over your jaw. "I love you so much," he murmurs, hand gripping your waist, you can feel his grin against your skin, "But I need you to hurry the fuck up or we're gonna be late, angel." "You're so annoying," you glower when his sensual demeanor turns into a mean snicker, tapping your ass to get you to move out into the kitchen.

It took every ounce of will power in his body to not cover you in hickeys in the car. He had to give it to himself, he knew how to dress you for stuff like this, and God did your body alway deliver. He had to keep looking out the window so he didn't catch a glimpse of your crossed legs in the rear view mirror of the Bentley. It didn't help that you smelled like heaven, dirving him crazy with every movement, sending Mulger's Angel through his olfactory straight to his boy brain.

He helped you out of the car and waked you arm in arm to the door of the restaurant, always sure to be there at least 15 minutes before his guests. You got accustomed to the song and dance: exchange pleasantries, only ask the wife of whoever he's with direct questions, feign some form of old school obedience, let Steve do all the talking and so help you God if you roll your eyes once he has no problem letting you pay for when you get home. Always in good fun, of course.

Tonight is no different, you look over the menu, sharing sweet moments with each other before his guest arrives. Guessing the status of every couple there, what they're talking about, how long they've been together. A few celebrities come in laying low and you never get excited but Steve always does, still deep down a sweet boy from Indiana. "I think I'm gonna do the salmon," I say with a sigh, "I know that's boring."

"Not boring, honey," he shakes his head, taking off his glasses to clean them off before settling the silver frames back on, "The salmon's really good here." "You're really good here," you tease. "Yeah?" his brow quirks, a smile pulling at his lips, "I heard you're really good here." "Actually, you're really good here," you start to giggle. "Surprised to hear you say that because it was reported in the Culiniary section of the New York Times that you're actually really good here," he laughs, but you're both cut short when you see the m'aitre d guiding your guests to the table. You keep giggling, sitting up straight and crossing your legs under the table cloth so that your thigh peaked out of the slit of the dress. "No more fun, Harrington," you say faux seriously, "No laughing, we have to be boring now." "So boring," he agrees in a fake whisper, but his demeanor changes on a dime when his guest and his wife arrive. Steve stands immediately, hand out for a firm shake.

"Mr. Parker, good to see you tonight," he flashes an award winning smile, the kind that make older men wish he was their son and older women wish he was their husband, "Mrs. Parker, you look stunning. He let's you leave the house looking this good?"

Only Steve can make a joke like that and have it be charming. He pulls the fake string in your back and you start your performance as Business Dinner Barbie as soon as everyone sits down. When the sommelier arrives Steve orders a bottle of white and red for the table and when the waitress arrives he gets himself and Mr. Parker their second highest priced scotch. 'Just because it's the most expensive doesn't mean it's good, they just wanna get the suckers to buy it.' You could mouth the words as he says them at this point, the same schpiel every time.

"And would you like to put your entree orders in as well?" the waitress asks. Mr. Parker orders the steak dinner, rare, which doesn't surprise you because he sort of looks like someone who gets joy out of consuming blood. Mrs. Parker orders the salad because of course she does, she's never eaten a starch in her life, or at least not in the past forty years. Steve places his dinner order, always filet mignon medium rare with a side salad. Steve takes your menu from you to pass to the waitress when her attention turns to you for your order. You open your mouth to speak but Steve's hand finds yours with a light squeeze, keeping eye contact with the waitress. "She'll have the glazed salmon, medium. And I hate to bother the chef but can we pass the broccoli rabe on for asparagus?" he asks, eyes dropping from the waitress to yours as she answers 'Absolutely, Mr. Harrington'. You swallow when his gaze lingers on you, a smirk flicking on the ends of his lips, a moment only shared by the two of you.

"Thank you so much," he replies, still looking at you, "She just doesn't really care for it." He smiles back up at the waitress as he finishes his sentence, pulse quickening when he sees you adjust slightly in your seat. You liked that, and he likes that you liked that. He continues the conversation with a winning smile, pretending like he doesn't know you're melting next to him. Staring at him in his suit acting like you care what he's talking about, like you're not watching the way the leather band of his watch hugs his wrist, how he gesticulates when he talks, his long fingers and big veined hands emphasizing his words. The way his brow furrows when he listens, the slight tensing of his jaw while he thinks of what to say next. While Mr. Parker discusses the potential pitfalls of partnering with Slate Insurance, you feel one of Steve's big hands under the table, resting on your knee. His thumb traces circles on your joint for a minute, you figure it's a comfort touch, something to ground him while he considers his next move. You learn quickly that it's not that at all. He lets a finger trace slowly and softly up over your knee and half way up your inner thigh before grabbing it, slowly and intentionally massaging the fat there, slipping his fingers under the black silk. Your back straightens in your chair, trying to keep your cool while he continues -- soft grazes with his finger tips, back and forth, inching further up as he goes. You grab his hand tightly under the thick white table cloth, catching his lips curl at the edges while he speaks -- no one else would be wise to it. You curse him silently at his ability to always play it cool.

"Have some water, honey," he says sweetly, taking his hand from your grasp and pushing your glass toward you, "You're looking a little flushed." You swallow, your smile a little tight while you take a sip and he watches. A battle between the two of you that you know you've already lost. The cool water passes your lips and you're nearly reinvigorated to try your hand but he comes in with a final strike -- a death blow -- "Atta girl," Steve grins. You've never wanted to pull him out of a restaurant by his collar more than you do right now. Just like always, dinner is a success. Steve always closes the deal before the second scotch so that the cool down conversation can feel more friendly. 'You want the client to feel like they made a friend when they leave so that they trust you. That's business, angel.' He'd say. You say your goodbyes and tell Mrs. Parker you'd be happy to join her book club -- you're unsure how many book clubs you've 'joined' at this point, how many invites got 'lost in the mail'. "Very darling woman you've got there, Steven," Mr. Parker says as he and Steve shake hands, the final seal.

"Isn't she?" he asks, giving you a quick once over. Your blood rushes in your ears at his look, the rest of their conversation muffled by an infuriating need for him. As Mr. Parker and his wife leave, he cleans off his glasses while you both wait for his credit card back for the bill.

"Beautiful job tonight, honey," he smiles, putting his frames back on.

"Do not speak to me," you say with a smile, heat pooling through you while a soft pink appears on his cheeks. "Don't worry," he shakes his head, getting his card back and signing off on the receipt. He helps you out of your chair like a gentlemen, passing you your purse as a means to press a kiss to your cheek, "We won't be doing any talking when we get home."

By the time you get home to the Tribeca apartment, all of your lipstick has been worn off. You're lucky if Vinny doesn't quit being Steve's driver after all of that. "Sorry," he says to Vin while you get out of the Bentley, "Won't happen again, I'm so sorry."

You try not to count how many hundreds Steve flips through when he goes into his wallet, you try not to see how many he slips his driver in embarrassment. Sometimes it still made your chest tight. "You say that every Friday night," Vinny laughs, taking the money, "And every Saturday I gotta get the interior detailed. Goodnight, Mr. Harrington."

The air is a little humid when you get out of the car, sticking to your skin slightly -- the soft rush of the river calms you in the quiet of the night, and there he is, in the glow of the lights outside of your building. He doesn't say anything when he approaches you, just pulls you in for another air stealing kiss. Steve's big hand pushing you in at the nape of your neck to give him better access to you. You frown when he breaks away, a small one, a gentle tug on your eye brows an lips. His hand drops to yours, taking you inside, greeting the doorman and front desk concierge by name as he does every morning and night.

The brightness of the lobby is a harsh contrast to the low light outside and the burst of air conditioning makes your nipples peak in your bra. Goosebumps trail up your arms, but you aren't sure if it's the blast of cold air or the way Steve impatiently waits for the elevator to get you both upstairs. The door barely closes when he's on you, shoving you against the wall of the front walk way. "How dare you," he murmurs, lips peppering kisses from your lips to your jaw, tongue licking hot at your neck, "Look this fucking good all night." "It's kind of your fault," you laugh, panting slightly while his teeth graze over a sensitive spot by your collar bone. You kick off your heels, leaving $2600 on the floor of Steve's apartment.

"Mostly yours," he grunts, pulling you over to the living room after taking off his own shoes. He opens the big vertical blinds so that the city glitters into the penthouse apartment. Steve wastes no time however, getting behind you the same way he did earlier, fingers nimbling unzipping your dress. You both watch it fall to the floor in a delicate puddle, black water silk at your feet.

Now there was $6600 on the floor. Steve takes a second to admire you in your skivvies, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth. He surveys you like a work of art, like a statue carved just for him. You shudder while he circles you, feeling the heat of his ambers eyes burning with need on your skin. He chuckles when he notices you get a flustered, settling down on the couch. He motions for you to you come forward and while you are never one to listen, you make your way over to him without question.

"You like when I spoil you?" he asks huskily, pulling you down to straddle his lap. One arm wraps tight around your waist while the other wraps delicately in your hair. Your stomach presses against him while your breasts heave in his face. He pulls your head down to kiss you, hungry and powerful, while his hips press up to grind against your satin covered cunt.

"Mhm," you whimper into his mouth. His hands reach behind you to the hooks and ties at the back of your bustier. Steve's fingers never met a bra that they couldn't take off in an impressive flick of the wrist.

"Let's get all this off you," he mumbles breathily before sliding his lips from your mouth to your neck. The bustier falls forward slightly before he gets impatient, pulling the straps down your arms before discarding it on the ground. You reach for the necklace but he stops you, reaching back up to capture you in a hungry kiss. "Keep the jewelry on," he says, ambers eyes meeting yours. He's stern in his request and you nod obediently, hands lowering down to meet his chest.

Now there was $8,000 on the floor.

His hands find your breasts and he lets out a rugged groan, massaging them with his hands while he presses kisses down onto the soft skin.

"You can't come with me to dinner looking like this anymore," he murmurs between kisses, "Barely closed that deal. Too busy staring at these tits."

"Steve," you gasp out, giggling, "You closed it just fine."

"Mmm," he nods, mouth occupied by taking a nipple between his lips. You can feel the flutter of his tongue over it while he looks up at you, eye shining wickedly. Your whine just encourages him to keep going. Your hips press down against him, reminding him what you want more than his mouth, than his hands. He pops his lips off of you, the sound echoing in the open living room.

“Is there something you want?” he asks sweetly, leaning back on cushions of the couch. You nod, rocking your hips over his hard cock in his pants, letting out a soft tiny moan at each bit of friction.

“You're so spoiled angel,” he teases, thumbs brushing over your nipples before rolling them between his fingers, making you whine. His voice still dripping in depth and heat, “I think you should work for it.”

“I thought the whole point of this was so that I didn't have to work anymore," you tease back, leaning forward to kiss him. He hums into your mouth and you can feel him smirk into the kiss. Bastard, you think to yourself.

“Hmm,” he considers, palm skating over your thigh, “You do make a good counter point."

“I think giving into my demands is a good return on investment,” you assure, hips rolling against him in a way that makes his thighs tense up, "Imagine the long term benefits?"

He groans when you parrot him, getting harder at the thought of you genuinely listening to his business speak when you do these dinners. He squeezes the fat of your hips, tongue gliding over his kiss bitten lower lip while you take off his tie and start to unbutton his shirt. “Take these off,” he says, looking up at you while his finger traces your panty line. You heat up when he says it, a smug smile blooming on your face. His actions only confirming that he’ll always give in, “If you ask for want you want, I'll consider it."

“Oh, you'll pass that on to your team? I'd love to be considered,” you ask with a laugh, but he's done joking around, a tap to your thigh reminds you that he asked you to undress. You stand up off of him, your feet meeting the cold hardwood, your panties sliding down your smooth legs.

Now there was $8250 on the floor.

He undoes his belt while you stand in front of him, eyes glued to yours while he does it. You swallow when he winks, thighs pressing together — you know he notices. Steve shimmies his pants down slightly, enough that he can keep his legs spread wide while pulling out his length. It's clear that he's painfully hard, a guttural groan escaping him while his hand offers him some minor relief, “Is this what you want?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Why don’t you suck on it first and I’ll tell you when you can ride it," he smirks, and without thinking, you start getting to your knees. He stops you before you can make it to the floor, putting a throw pillow beneath you to protect you from the hardwood. Steve can't help but kiss you softly once you make it to your knees, he was never any good at being mean and forceful with you. You'd been right the whole time, he couldn't boss you around -- at least not for too long.

You unbutton the rest of his dress shirt that will now need to be dry cleaned and repressed. You let a hand trail down his chest, gliding through the hair there while pressing wet hot kisses down to his pelvis. Pulling some of the skin between your teeth to leave red and purple bruises behind.

“That’s it, baby,” his breath blends with his words as he adjusts on the couch, leaning back so you have more access to him. You kiss close to the base, tongue trailing over the crease of his thigh, breath ghosting over his shaft while your mouth stays occupied with his heavy sac. You feel him lean back, relaxing while you work him up, his hands coming behind his head, arms bending at the elbows. "Just like that, honey," Steve purrs, "Just like that."

Your hand reaches up to stroke him, slow and deliberate, mouth getting wetter while you leave sloppy kisses at the base and on his pelvis. Your thumb glides over the shining bead of pre-cum pooling out of the tip, teasing over the seam just under it. Your tongue finally glides up to the tip expertly, letting your lower lip catch on the head -- his eyes meet yours behind his glasses, burning with need. It feels cruel to keep him waiting when he looks at you like that, so you don't wait. While keeping eye contact you adjust, taking him all the way to the back of your throat without so much as a wince.

“Oh fuck, good girl,” he gasps into a growl, hand reactively entwining in your hair, “That’s daddy’s girl.”

You groan into the praise, sucking diligently on his cock, thighs pressing tight together. Your back arches into a posture he can only recognize as needy, making him grin while he runs his free hand through his own hair.

“Learned to like that, huh? Whose your daddy, angel?” You smirk up at him in response, tongue gliding from the base to the tip again, taking half of his shaft in your mouth before taking it out with a low laugh, "You are, honey."

His eyes roll back, hips canting up towards your mouth while his grip in your hair tightens. You press him by the thighs back down onto the couch eyeing him while he whimpers when your tongue traces the curve of his cock again. Always on top even on your knees. "Fuck, don't stop," he breathes out. He lets go of your hair, arm reaching behind him to clutch the back of the couch. His hips roll up again, disrupting your rhythm slightly. You taste the salt of him on your tongue while you continue, a soft giggle erupting from your throat, sending shockwaves through him.

"Having fun, honey?" he asks, pulling himself away from you slightly. You sit back on your heels and smile, nodding. He leans forward, blessing you with kisses, deep and slow, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"I'm on top, right?" you ask. He smirks, watching the jewelry glitter on you in the low light. "Not a chance," he giggles darkly, "Not tonight. Really wanna show you how bad I want you tonight."

"Oh, just tonight?" you ask smartly, getting up from your knees to head to the bedroom.

"Every night," he says with a roll of the eyes, getting up and tossing his dress shirt and tie on the couch. He watches you as you walk slowly to the bedroom, eyeing your smooth skin, the way your hips and waist twist when you walk. He knows you're walking like this on purpose, but he'll never complain. You fall back on the sheets you've been sleeping in for six months and he watches your breasts and thighs and tummy jiggle when you land. Steve grins, sliding off his slacks, socks, and boxer briefs before stepping between your legs, standing over you while you lay on the bed. "Hi," you say, a genuine smile pulling at your mouth when you look up at him. A stripe of amber light from outside pools into the room from between the billowing white curtains, coating you both in a dreamy haze.

"Hi, baby," he says back, his hands reaching down to slide from just under your breasts to your waist, "So beautiful," he whispers to himself.

"Move up a little for me," he instructs, his voice sweet and deep. You scooch up the bed, settling between the mountain of pillows leaning against the short head board while he settles between your legs again. He watches you and the way your body manipulates when he reaches down behind your thighs, pressing the tops of them to your chest. He leans forward, pressing his own chest against what can be felt of yours. Your knees are at your decolletage when he leans in closer to give you another deep kiss before leaning back again, quickly tossing his glasses on the bedside table.

You both stay quiet while he strokes himself a few times, smirking down at your glistening core while he lines himself up to push in. You aren't sure why, but every time he does, it feels like the first time.

"Oh my God," you whine while he pushes in slow, "Stevie." "I know, angel," he nods, gliding in all the way to the hilt. He grunts when he feels you grip him tight, trying to pull out slightly only to get sucked back in. He grips the back of your thighs for leverage, pulling back half way and pressing in, feeling you get wetter around him while he picks up a rhythm.

"Shiii-Steve, that's so deep," you whine. It only encourages him to push in deeper.

"Gotta practice, honey," he grins, starting to pant while he looms over you, letting go of your legs to get close to you again, "Need it to stick when we do it for real."

You pulse over him when he says it, back trying to arch despite your position beneath him.

"You like when I talk like that?" he whispers, his voice sliding back to gravely in your ear, "When I tell you how bad I wanna cum inside you?"

"Mhm," you whimper, nodding against his searing kiss, working himself up the more he thinks about it. "Get you all fuckin' full with me?" he growls, "Keep you nice and pregnant the second I get that ring on your finger?" You burn with lust while he babbles on, wrapping your legs around his waist while his thrusts get rough and desperate. Your body shakes and quivers while his hips slam against you, filthy wet squelches filling the high ceilings of the room. Mixing with a symphony of both of your sighs and moans, the smell of your sweat mixing with his cologne. Slam, slam, slam, slam, slam. The headboard beating the wall between the windows with a thud over and over again. "I fucking love you," he grits out. "I love you, too," you whine, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Heat licks at your lower belly, building while the slight curve of his cock makes the head brush over your g-spot in rapid succession, "Baby, I'm..." "Yeah?" he asks with a knowing smile, "So close for me, hm?" He sits back on his calves, still able to thrust while he looks down at you. His thumb presses against your lips, asking for entry. You let him in, making sure to get it extra slick with your spit before he takes it out, reaching down to slide it in circles over your clit. "How's that, angel?" he asks, thrusts not showing a hint of slowing down, "Does that feel good?"

Your thighs shake, eyes pricking with tears, shining while they look up at him. Well he's pleased with himself, you think, making a mental note to throw him on his back tomorrow and ride him into next week until he's a babbling mess. "It does, huh?" he asks softly, nodding down at you while you nod up at him. "Shit," he huffs, "Oh fuck."

"Not so...oh my god, oh wow -- not so t-tough now, are you?" you giggle. He groans when you giggle, Why are you so fucking precious? he thinks to himself, Who allowed this?

Heat rises even more, the jewelry starting to feel clingy as it sticks to your shining skin. Steve keeps his pace, eyes closing softly while he leans his head back, the column of his neck begging to be bitten and kissed by you. You whimper, pulling at the clasp of the bracelet, tossing it onto the carpet next to the bed. Now there was $48,250 on the floor. Feeling less trapped and more desperate to destroy his neck and chest, you sit up, your manicured hand pressing against his hair covered pecs. It doesn't take long for him to allow it, looking up at you while you climb on top of him.

"That's it, honey, give it to me," he breathes, "Show me how bad you want it."

Your hips move with a slutty percision that he loves, grinding against him for your own pleasure and his. He hisses when you bite down on his neck, letting out a soft laugh when you pull at his hair, "Come for me, angel, c'mon." He hears you pant in his ear while you lean over him, the diamonds in your necklace shimmering in his eyes. You sigh, sitting up straight, unclasping the necklace while you bounce on top of him, gently tossing it to meet the bracelet. Now there was $198,250 on the floor. "Do not," he groans out, hands grabbing your hips with bruising grip, "Put those earrings on the ground, we will never find them until a post ends up in my fucking heel." You laugh, your own head leaning back, making him yearn to taste the column of your neck this time. But your laugh doesn't last long, it morphs into guttural moans while he holds you in place, thrusting up into you in an unforgiving speed. Steve gasps, watching your breasts bounce in front of him while he continues on unrelenting. "Baby..." You squeak out, "Steve...oh fuck, oh Steve -- Steve, Steve, Steve..." The heat builds and builds and builds. Your eyes water while his cock bullies into you. The head hitting your g-spot, pushing in deeper while he goes. You let out a cry, nails digging into his broad freckles shoulders while our hips slam down on him, thighs vibrating while white blooms behind your eyes.

"Good girl," He coos while you shake, collapsing onto his chest, "That's it, angel, that's my girl." He eases you onto your back again, giving you slow kisses on your neck and chest while he chases his own orgasm. It doesn't take long, nearly on the precipice of cumming since he zipped you up in your dress earlier in the evening. His mouth gapes while he sends his seed over your tummy, painting you with ropes of glistening white. "Jesus Christ..." he gasps, settling himself with some big deep breaths that expand his sculpted chest. You both look at each other, panting and sweating, the passion wearing off to a pure and gentle love for each other. You both start laughing. "We swear we're sexy," you laugh up at him. His smile makes you melt all over again. You watch him ease up off the bed, leaning forward from the side to kiss your forehead. He picks up the jewelry, inspecting it for missing gems, or - god forbid - a scratch, and places it carefully on the side table with his glasses. "Wanna get cleaned up with me?" he asks, tilting his head, "Can you stand?" "Oh please," you roll your eyes, sitting up slowly, "I can..sort of stand." You already feel the ache between your legs from taking him, knowing you'll need at least a day to recover from something so big. He helps you up, taking you into the en suite bathroom and getting the water just right for you to step into. "I'll be right back," he says, pulling you in for a kiss on the temple before he disappears in the steam. When he returns behind the glass of the standing shower, covered top to bottom in dark green tile, he passes you a glass of Malbec that matches his. "A little celebratory night cap," he says sweetly. "To closing the deal," you grin, giving his glass a clink to cheers. "To closing the deal," he says back before you both take a sip.

"I know you're not wearing those earings in the shower, Manhattan," he sighs, putting the glass on the product shelf out of the water. He reaches for you ears but you yelp playfully, stepping away from him, "You're gonna be the fuckin' death of me, honey. I swear."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x thick!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fan fiction #pbv!steve #steve harrington fluff

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sleepyangelkami · 5 months

Text

MAKE IT BETTER e.williams

☆ WORD COUNT - 2.7K

ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER

☆ SUMMARY - patrol gone wrong, bumping into the wrong people and landing yourself in a situation where you can do nothing but cry and hope that your girlfriend and saviour can make everything better. her empty promises remain unsure on whether she can truly fix it or not.

☆ WARNINGS - guns, violence, blood, gunshot wound, angst, crying, swearing, gore, use of pet names, tinsey mention of smut (blink n it's gone), use of 'good girl' but not in a sexual way, intended lower case, happy ending guys dw!! nothing I write is ever proofread 🩷

your pants were heavy, blood gushing between your finger tips as your breaths heaved and your eyes blinked.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. weird, she was with you possibly five minutes ago. you had gotten separated when you needed her the most, as soon as she left your line of view, everything turned to shit. your wound bled at an alarming pace, blood oozing out between your fingers which desperately hung to your side in attempts to soothe it.

"where are you?" came the voice of a man, the man in which that had impaled your stomach with his knife already. there was no way you could escape him. he was too fast, too slick, too sly. "you can hide all you want but that wound is gonna slow you down." his voice sounded almost playful, as if he were having fun. perhaps he was, perhaps this was his idea of a good time. "i'm gonna find you eventually..." you could hear his footsteps walking around. "that's okay, i like a good chase."

the thought of him winning, grabbing a hold of you and doing whatever it was he was going to do, your stomach churned. you felt dizzy, partially at the thought, partially due to the blood around your stomach.

how did you even end up here?

"please, els." you were begging now, eyes big and glossy. how could ellie refuse? if there was one thing ellie could call a 'weakness' though she refused she had any, it was you.

she sighed, rolling her eyes. "sweetheart, why do you wanna come on patrol with me?" patrol could mean many things. it could mean going to each checkpoint and ticking off the boxes that there was no suspicious activity while holding hands and skipping. it could mean fighting a bunch of clickers while you yelled and stumbled about. ellie particularly hated taking down zombies when you were around. you were bashful, clumsy. sure, she loved you more than anything in the world but that was just it. she loved you so she didn't take her eyes off you, making sure you were safe rather than taking down the stalker running at her. sometimes, patrol meant being bent over one of the tables in the station, taking her strap like the good girl you were. patrols were never the same.

whatever would come of this patrol, you didn't care for there was only one thing on your mind. "wanna spend time with you." snuggling up against her.

as the air grew colder, you grew needier. there was nothing you loved more than being able to spend time with your lover especially in the cold winters of jackson. whether that was on patrol or snuggled together in your bed, you just wanted her.

her lips had pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head, smiling into your hair. "you're cute." you were naive, you knew it but you had ellie williams wrapped around your little finger. and she'd never know.

you stuck your head out from her chest, big grin dancing on your lips. "so can i go?" excitement bubbling in your chest. you hated it when ellie left you alone to go on patrol. more often than not you'd spend your time cooped up in the house, alone. ellie had begged dina and jesse to come get you multiple times, bring you outside for some fresh air or simply join you in the company of your home. but it didn't matter if jesus himself walked into your living room. as long as your girlfriend was away at patrol, you were a pouting mess. which is why you often opted for being alone. you would hate to think that you were making dina and jesse sad.

she rolled her eyes, lips turning up at their corners. "I guess, you can." and she heard that squeal that erupted from you, giggling as you jumped up and down. she could only roll her eyes again, though her smile was growing wider. she loved the days when you smiled, she hated the days when you cried. "c'mon, baby, we gotta go find your scarf." the white one in which has been lost for months now.

"you're not gonna find it." you shook your head as she searched the room, you had seated yourself up on the desk, legs dangling as your tongue danced across the lollipop between your fingers. when ellie said 'we have to find' she really means 'i' for she wouldn't dare let you lift a finger. if she had it her way, she'd be the one holding the lollipop to your mouth.

"yeah?" sticking her head out from the box she had been searching. her hair was sticking up in all directions. she left for patrol early in the morning, there was no point looking then. "why not?"

you shrugged your shoulders, tongue swirling around to taste the strawberry. " 's not gonna be there, been lookin' for ages." when you 'looked' for things, you barely skimmed, standing up and eyes bouncing off every wall in the room. you'd have given up in seconds.

there was a smirk dancing on her lips as her feet moved her to where you sat on the desk. her fingers reached up, taking the lollipop from your hold. "maybe you haven't been looking hard enough, angel." her tongue fell onto the strawberry sweet, swirling around. you stared, hypnotised. there was something about the way she carried herself, that small, almost hidden smirk and the way she spoke. it made your stomach do cartwheels. but as you watched her tongue swirl around the lollipop that was only in between your lips a second ago, you found your thighs clenching together. how was it that she was the only one who made you feel this way? when she passed it back to you, your eyes were still strained on her lips and the little freckles above it, your stomach swooned and your head suddenly felt rather ditzy. you couldn't pull your eyes away from her lips. until, that was, she pulled out the scarf from behind her back. "found it." she spoke, before her lips met your own.

the lollipop wasn't the only thing you sucked that night (i'm so sorry)

you heaved out breaths, unsure of what to do. your brows were knit together in worry. "come on, angel, make this easy for me, won't you?" you squeezed your eyes shut closed. you wanted to be home by the fire with ellie, you wanted to be away from this man that made your hands shake and your stomach bleed.

you were sat behind a flipped over car, hands practically vibrating from how much they were shaking. where was ellie? you had lost sight of her ages ago, right before a knife had been plunged into your stomach. you didn't scream then, you wondered if she even knew you had been stabbed.

the man knew you were here, he hadn't seen ellie yet. you hadn't seen him at first, thinking the checkpoint was clear. it wasn't until your girlfriend grasped the edge of your scarf, bringing you down to crouch behind a wall with her that you realised you were not alone. when a bottle knocked over, he realised he wasn't alone either.

you were supposed to stay put, wait until ellie snuck up and attacked him before finding her. but you got worried, your stomach churned and your lip had been bitten raw. it had been too long since you'd seen her and you were beginning to get worried. you made the stupid choice of leaving your hiding space to go find her. now, you were sat with your hands holding the wound that you knew was your own fault.

"come out and i'll go easy." he was going to kill you, if the wound in your stomach didn't. your breaths began to get even more laboured. you didn't want to die. you still had so much you wanted to do. you couldn't die, not now, not because of him. the air grew silent, his foot steps stopped. somehow, it seemed even more scary when you couldn't tell where he was. you held one bloody hand over your mouth, covering it so he couldn't hear you breathe. the air was thick and your head turned, barely peaking over the edge of the car. you turned back, a face right next to you. "found you."

a scream fell from your lips, a blood curdling scream as you snatched your hand away.

you tried to run, thrashing against him as you made a swift exit. he grasped your wrist and despite the knife in your stomach, you kicked your leg upwards, hitting him right in the balls (dina had taught you well) it stumped him for a second and you barely managed to move away.

he let you think you could be free, he didn't allow the thought to last too long though. his hand reached out and grasped a hold of your leg, sending you flying to the ground.

you fell, knife piercing your stomach further. it hadn't been too deep earlier, but now? you were sure you were already dead. you didn't scream but your mouth was open, breaths falling irregularly. you wouldn't have been able to turn around until he flipped you over, he'd climbed on top of you.

he held another knife, pressing it against your tear stained cheek as he grinned. "I really did a number on you, didn't I angel?" his fingers danced on the top of the knife in your stomach. you almost wished he'd stick it in further and simply put you out of your misery. "how about i end this and just―"

it had ended, alright.

you watched as an arrow pierced straight through his scull, bloody edge sitting right between your eyes, not grazing your skin. his own mouth fell open, as yours had only he had been unlucky enough to not be able to close it. his eyes rolled back to the back of his head and his body slid off of yours.

crying, you managed to sit yourself up, back against the mossy wall, the knife was plunged in deep, your hands covered in blood, as was your face. "angel?" her voice was sweet and concerned, nothing alike his cold, teasing one. "shit, shit!"

"ellie?" you practically babbled, hands holding the knife. "hurts."

"i know, i know." despite her rushed tone, she still sounded so comforting. "you're gonna be okay, i'm right here, baby." and you almost believed her until you took notice of just how bloody your hands were. it was a deep red, coating every inch of them, you stared at them, unable to move. "can i have this?" she was already unwrapping the white scarf from across your neck. "thank you, sweetheart, you're doing so good." her words would have made your heart swell if it weren't for the fact that your eyes could barely stay open. "I have to take it out, okay?"

your eyes suddenly went wide, as if they hadn't been sleepy at all. you shook your head, tears falling rapidly. "els, no." a whimper falling from your lips. "don't wanna, please." you would have begged her not to. but you knew it wasn't fair. she was trying to help you, she had to help you but you didn't want her to rip the knife from your stomach.

"i know, baby but i have to." she moved you so that you fell limp against her shoulder. the knife twisted in your stomach. "hold my hand, there you go." your hand was in her own, holding it hard. "you can squeeze as hard as you want, okay? ready? three, two―" you cried into her shoulder, holding her hand so hard it might have fallen off if it weren't for the fact that she was holding on just as hard. "good girl, good girl, you did so well, see? it's done, it's over."

she used the scarf to tie around your waist, tightening it so she could keep the pressure. you watched as the red blood soaked the white fabric. " 'm gonna die, aren't i?" babbling as you cried into her shoulder, you couldn't pull your eyes from the blood that left your stomach. though, the pain had dulled and your eyes were heavy. "don' wanna die."

"hey, hey, look at me." your face sat between her palms as she looked into your eyes, comfort leaking into your heart as soon as she did so. "you're not gonna die, alright? you're gonna be fine, els' gonna make it all better, won't she?" speaking about herself in third person as if she wasn't right there.

you nodded, salty tears falling down your cheeks. "you're gonna make it better." you nodded to yourself, eyes opening and closing heavily.

"yeah, yeah i'm gonna make it all better. stay awake, baby, come on, open those pretty eyes f'me." but as much as she willed you to, your eyes couldn't stop fluttering open and closed, heavily blinking at her. "you're gonna be just fine, hold on, baby."

you didn't register when she hauled you onto shimmer, turning you so that your body was limp against her front, head leaning against her chest. you didn't register much actually. the pain dulled and the girl continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. but you couldn't hear now, too caught up in the ringing and how bright the sky seemed to be. your eyes were scrunched shut, head in her chest as you wished and prayed on every star that you'd wake up inside your shared home in jackson, eyes opening to reveal you sleepily smiling on ellie's chest.

you could pray all you want, there was no god coming to save you only ellie williams.

the sound of yelling made you open your eyes against the harsh light. you could make out the muffled yelling of the paramedics taking you away, yelling for certain materials. your eyes were strained on ellie who was being held back by one of the male nurses, James, you were sure his name was. you knew him because he and ellie hated one another. you remembered ellie telling you he was jackson's biggest dickhead and that she'd love to give him a 'knuckle sandwitch' which made you laugh in the moment but right now, nothing could make you laugh. your eyes never left her, though, even after she found her first swinging at the man and suddenly joel was there, holding her back while everyone crowded around the commotion.

when you woke, you were, unfortunately, not in the comfort of you and ellie's home. but you must say, it was much better than the place you had been sitting before, all mucky and bloody.

you blinked, eyes adjusting to the light. "hi, baby." ellie's soft voice as you blinked at her, attempting to get up. "nuh-uh, rest." she pushed your shoulders down softly.

"where am i?" you mumbled softly. you knew where you were but the dosage of your painkillers was so high that you could barely recognise the colour of the bedsheets. and yet, you could see her so clearly, your angel, your saviour, your knight in shining armour.

"med shaft." she spoke, hand holding yours as her thumb brushed against your knuckles.

your eyes glanced down to her hand that was covered with a white bandage. "you hit him." you murmured softly. "the nurse."

"he wouldn't let me see you." she spoke, as if she were defending her own actions. which, she sort of was. "had to make sure my angel was okay, didn't i?"

"you made it better." just like she said she would. ellie didn't lie to you, she wouldn't.

"yeah, i did." she seemed proud of herself. she should be. she saved your life. and if you weren't so loopy right now you would have given her a whole speech and the cuddles of a lifetime.

"thank you." was all you could muster, for now.

"of course, sweetheart." she just wished she could have done more. you shouldn't be here in a hospital bed right now, she should have never left you in the first place, guilt consumed her but she shook it off with a small smile. "we're gonna have to get you a new scarf though." cringing slightly.

"no point." sloppy grin on your face. "jus' gonna loose it again anyway."

she leaned down, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "then i'll help you find it."

main masterlist/ellie's masterlist

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luveline · 9 months

Note

More zombie au! Steve!!! Please! It’s literally so good I love how you write Steve all protective <3

thank you ♡ steve zombie au —steve gets sick. you meet a dark-haired stranger while looking for meds. fem!reader 2k

You compare your arm to the bottle in your hand. You've written a list of generic and brand name antibiotics in biro on your forearm, but they're smudging from nervous sweat. You're getting desperate.

Nothing seems to match. You're shaking with aching arms and legs, fucking terrified as you sift through a floor of orange and white pill bottles that nothing is going to match your list, and worse, the pharmacy grows darker by the hour. You don't have a torch.

Things are getting pretty bad at camp. There's not enough food to go around, no batteries, and now Steve's…

A bottle slips out of your hand and knocks into another. You cringe and pick up the next. You've been searching for hours without sitting down, as hiding underneath the bottles is a carpeting of grainy glass from the smashed shelves. Three of your fingertips have cut and scabbed since you got here.

"Fuck," you whisper, glaring at another wrong medication. "Fuck, fuck."

Amoxicillin, ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin. Anything to stop Steve's infection from getting into his blood. It's a gross wound, oozy and inflamed, and when you'd left him with Robin dutiful at his side his skin had glowed with heat like glass held in the centre of a furnace. Even with his eyes closed, he'd known what you were about to do.

"Don't fucking leave," he'd grit out, fingers twitching up for your hand.

You'd leaned forward and kissed his damp forehead. "I have to go. I love you. I'll be right back."

That was ten hours ago at least. You have no idea what condition Steve might be in, so sure you'd find the pills and be back in arm's reach by noon. How sick can he get before it's too much?

"Shit," you whisper, your fingers tingling.

"What are you looking for?"

You fall backward with a sharp gasp, pill bottles biting into your thighs. Your face swings around but the source of the voice is unclear, empty shelves and aisles either side of you.

"Chill out–"

"Where the fuck are you?" you demand, scrambling onto your feet with the use of one sacrificed palm. Glass like needles serrates your skin. "Fuck! Come out, loser!"

"Hey, no need to be mean. I'm up in the ceiling."

You look up. Peeking out from a displaced ceiling tile is a pale face silhouetted by a matt of dark hair.

"You fucking little freak," you say, though you feel bad immediately. He's smiling and he isn't pointing any weapons at you, which is more than most strangers allow on the road. "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to see if you had a gun, stupid."

"You're stupid, stupid. What if it was in my bag?"

"Point it at me, then!"

You stare at him in silence.

"That's what I thought," he says, framing a face in two hands like a baby angel on a gift card. "Can I come down or are you gonna keep bitchin'?"

"Don't fucking come down here."

"Or what?" he asks.

"I'll get my gun out."

"Mm, okay," he mocks. "I'll come help you find whatever it is that has your panties in a twist."

"I swear to god–"

"Listen. I'm a good guy, I swear."

"That's what bad guys say."

The stranger laughs a weird giggly laugh and climbs backwards. The ceiling tiles stress visibly under his weight but make no noise as he disappears from view. He swears a couple of times on the way down, unseen, before the stockroom door swings open and he appears in his intimidating glory in the doorway.

"If you kill me," you say, eyeing his spiked wristbands and the machete strapped to his waist with horrified apprehension, "my boyfriend will avenge me. Like, hunt you to the ends of the earth and slice you into little tiny pieces of vengeance."

"That sounds like my kind of party, but your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. I got a girl."

"Don't say rock and roll."

"How the fuck would you guess that?" he asks, hand flying to the back of his neck for a bashful scratch.

"My life feels like a shitty gimmicky horror movie, and you look the part." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I need antibiotics."

"You and everybody else in the world. This for your vengeful boyfriend?"

You don't need him knowing who they're for. He could be an evil guy, and the threat of Steve waiting for you might be your trump card. "No. My vengeful boyfriend left to look for cans in the shelter."

"He'll be back soon, then."

You take a step back. "I'll gouge your eyes out if you try anything, I'm serious. I don't care how big your knife is–"

"I'm Eddie." Eddie smiles at you, shoving his hands into cargo pockets. Despite his weird questions and his choice of apparel, he looks less intimidating in the lingering light of the setting sun as it seeps between window shutters. "I don't want to hurt you." He frowns. "Any kind of hurt."

"Can I have the machete?"

"Nope. I can go put it down somewhere, though, if that's less scary."

You shake your head, and with a great big sigh, lean down to sift through bottles. If he's going to hurt you, he might as well get on with it. The longer you spend talking to him, the sicker your Steve becomes.

"You need antibiotics bad?" Eddie asks, his voice softening.

"My best friend is sick." You toss a bottle, pick up another. "Infection probably getting into his blood. If I don't find something tonight, he's gonna die."

"Well, we can't have that," Eddie says, crouching down to help.

You sweep through bottle after bottle of things you wish you needed. Painkillers, sleeping pills, laxatives. Good shit, and nothing you need.

"You know…" Eddie sighs. "I know you could lie to me, but is it just you, boyfriend and the dying bestie, or?"

You're not sure what the right answer is. Better for him to think you have an army waiting if you get lost, or better to hide them? He could belong to a cult of cannibals. Only… his clothes are squeaky clean. His curls shine with a gloss that comes solely with conditioner, which means he has the time and security to really wash things.

But murders can wash their clothes, right?

"There's a couple of us," you say.

"You're not from that place west, are you?"

You put a pill bottle down slowly. "West?"

"Yeah, there were people there, hundreds of 'em. We got a few stragglers, survivors from the fucking massacre that happened a few weeks ago. One girl said there must've been thirty, forty kids there, it's fucking awful."

You swallow a lump. "Awful," you agree.

"Hopper says we can track down the people who did it if we just follow the blood trail," Eddie says, slipping into a theatrical bravado that won't stick. "I don't know… someone needs to stop them."

You choke, "Hopper? Chief Hopper?"

"Wait, you're from Hawkins?" Eddie asks.

You give each other boggled looks, a thrumming hope building in your chest like a flickering flame in the dead of winter.

"I think you better come back with me," Eddie says.

"I need antibiotics," you say, wanting to explain it to him and now knowing how. Or even if you should. Awesome, Hopper's alive, but that doesn't mean Eddie's group are good people, or that they can help you. There's nothing anyone in the world can do for you right now if they don't have a handful of Augmentin.

"You're from The College."

"I don't have time for this," you say, half apology and half frustration. "Yeah, we were from The College, and now it's gone, and my boyfriend's gonna die if you don't help me find the right pills." You wince and snatch up another stupid bottle.

"I can get you antibiotics," Eddie says, "but you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"No."

—

Steve wakes up two days later in an unfamiliar building.

His eyes are made of sand, he can hardly breathe it's that cold, each breath as sharp as a needle as he sucks it in, but there's a roof over his head, a blanket over his chest, and your voice, your laugh rings like a song in the air.

"He didn't do that, you're lying," you say with a laugh, pulling Steve's hand to your chest.

"He did." Steve stiffens at the voice. Deeper, rougher than yours. "I swear on my life, he jumped right into Lover's Lake and swam backstroke to prove he could beat Louisa Park's best."

"Did he beat her time?"

"No, but he had a condom stuck to his ankle when he got out. Wasn't worth it."

"Steve," you say. Steve thinks you've noticed he's waking up, but you hug his hand with a sympathetic sigh. "That's so embarrassing. You better wake up soon, I have making fun of you to do."

"I think I'll stay asleep," he says hoarsely.

You gasp and choke his fingers between yours. "Steve?" You climb up onto the bed, your weight dipping the mattress under his back. Your hand comes careful and warm against his chilled cheek. "You're awake. You're awake?"

He strains to unglue his top lashes from his bottom lashes. You beam at him, the little scars around your mouth from a cruel hand shining in the white morning light.

"What time is it?" he asks.

"It's, like, seven in the morning."

"I've been asleep that long?"

"You've been unconscious for nearly two days," you correct.

Steve can't remember anything. He has the barest memory of your lips on his forehead. Robin splashing cold water on him and calling him an asshole, and then, much quieter, her best friend.

"Where's Robin?" he asks.

"She's being Robin somewhere, you know, she loves being helpful. The kids need help getting settled."

"And you're being lazy," Steve pokes.

He lifts his chin so your kiss lands exactly where he wants it, the stubbly space below his jaw. You wrap your arms around him and hug him severely, squeezing his tender ribs.

"I wasn't lazy, I had to go save you by myself."

"Save everybody," the familiar but impossible voice adds. Steve doesn't want to believe it. He refuses to. "Like, an entire generation."

"I didn't do anything," you say, kissing Steve again, a short path to his chapped lips. "Honey," —your voice lowers, your confession for Steve's ears alone— "I'm so happy you're okay. I was really, really scared."

Steve feels the weight of your fear like a dumbell on his chest, but he's uber confused. Propping his chin over your shoulder and hugging you back, the evil wound on his arm that caused this whole mess throbbing like fire under his bandage, Steve sets his eyes on the boy sitting on the chair next to yours.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie says warmly, eyes dripping with a put upon affection. "Miss me?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks.

"Saving the day, obviously."

"I can't believe I found one of your friends," you say, sitting up a little to smile at him. You really are gorgeous in his eyes, better than any movie star. Your beatific little grin stirs something, but Eddie's snort stomps it dead.

"We're not friends," Steve says.

You stroke Steve's face with the back of your hand. "Don't be like that. He's really nice…" Your smile melds itself to a concerned frown. "I thought you were kicking it, Stevie. How's your arm feeling? Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's fine," he says dismissively, wrapping his stronger arm around your waist. He's not jealous or anything, it's just cold in here, honest. "Munson, where the fuck did you come from?"

"Right here, Stevie."

"We're not far from the camp," you explain, stroking his face once again. "Or, we weren't when it was there. We're merging with this one to make a mega camp."

"Why would we do that? We don't know that we can trust these people."

"No, but we can trust Hopper." You smile. Steve knows things are gonna be okay, as long as you can smile like that. He leans his cheek into your hand, loved and relieved and–

"Hopper?" Steve asks.

"Jesus, Harrington," Eddie says, rolling his shoulders. "Keep up. If you can't comprehend the easy stuff, you're not gonna believe what we haven't told you."

"What haven't you told me?" Steve asks.

You push his shoulders down into the pillows. "I think you better lay down first."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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vampyrixdarling · 3 months

Note

I LOVED YOUR ZOMBIE SONIC WRITING HSHDJF

Okay so Sonic with a reader that he caught feelings for, right ? But the thing was, they were a big bad meanie guy out for BLOOD. They liked Sonic too, but refused to change their villainous ways tehe

IM IN LOVE Q THIS IDEA

HCs or a one shot is fine >:)))

— 「𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧」

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ Sonic the Hedgehog x villain!reader

: ̗̀➛ synopsis; Sonic never could’ve predicted that he’d be falling for the same person who would actively endanger his home and his friends. But it happened. Mutual pining with slight rivalry mixed in with playful fighting, who’s to complain?

: ̗̀➛ Type; romantic headcanons

: ̗̀➛ warning(s); brief mentions of fighting (not detailed), swearing.

Likes/Reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

I’m like honestly SO embarrassed of the quality of this😭 please let this slide Orion I am BEGGING🙏🙏 my writing is normally SO MUCH BETTER I SWEAR

→ Sonic is someone who prides himself on being able to save his world from any threat that dares try to destroy it or hurt his friends or innocent people. He’s a hero, and he’s proud to call himself one. Sure, the praise and the fame that comes with it is cool and all, but all Sonic really cares about is saving all that he can, and taking down evil. He doesn’t need a reward for just doing what he loves. Hell, he’d even get to hangout with his friends just talking about the fight he had, and try some of Amy’s delicious deserts of course. Except if it was strawberry shortcake. He’d stay far away from that if he could.

→ You, on the other hand, were just another villain. You found a kind of sadistic joy in the misery of other people— a sick satisfaction from watching all those below you suffer a terrible fate at your hands. It’s always been this way for as long as you could remember, really. There wasn’t a moment you truly felt happy. No moment where you truly felt complete. And maybe, just maybe, causing pain and suffering to those undeserving made you feel just a little better about the dull, boring life you had. Something like the phrase, “if I can’t be happy, nobody can”, as much as you hated it.

→ But, nobody could deny the slight excitement you felt when the blue blur himself stood in your path, eyes locked on yours as he got ready to attack. A fight with him was never boring, that much was guaranteed. and perhaps you felt the same way, unfortunately you’d never get to finish your thought before he spin-dashed into you, sending you flying into the nearest wall.

“Ugh, come on, [Name]… haven’t we been over this once before?”

“Three times, actually. Learn to keep track.”

The hedgehog rolled his eyes as he sped towards you again. Meanwhile, with a cocky grin on your face, you shakily got up.

→ Sonic would feel extremely conflicted and confused. On one hand, you were everything he hated. Someone who felt joy in causing terror and harm upon those he cared for. But, on another hand, there was an undeniable chemistry between you guys. None of you would ever admit that, though.

→ He hated how felt this way about you. He shouldn’t feel anything like this for any of his enemies. But, there was also this one flaw about him. The fact that he’s willing to give second chances and hope for the best. He does see the good in you, no doubt about it. It’s just that you’re being so damn difficult, he wish you’d just give up.

→ But you weren’t oblivious to this. You saw how the hedgehog briefly hesitated before landing a punch to you. You saw how his eyes lit up once he realized you weren’t dead from that landing. And, a part of you felt pity for him. You realized how hard this was for him, to hurt someone he’s grown to love, and you really wished you wouldn’t care. But you did.

Because you loved him too.

→ None of you took the realization well. You both hated each other for feeling this way, and while you both tried to separate from each other, you just kept coming back. You both would swear it’s because you’re causing trouble and Sonic’s just trying to save everyone, but you both knew it was different. But one day, during a pretty heated fight..

“Why can’t you just let me do what’s best for you, [Name]?!”

“This isn’t what’s best! You don’t know anything about me!”

“I know that I love you!”

…

Oh.

Oh..

→ Once the awkwardness was out of the way, and you two were finally able to confront each other… you got it all out. You both had a talk about how you really felt. He expressed his concerns, and you voiced your clear distain towards leaving your villainous ways. Which, he understood. He hated how you refused to stop, but you just wouldn’t listen to him. So after negotiating, you agreed to slightly tone down your attacks. Which wasn’t much, but at least you weren’t killing anybody.

Bonus: He’d LOVE chasing after you and getting into so many playful fights with you while you’re attacking the town. It would be so fun and exciting for the both of you.

#sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #headcanon

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liyawritesss · 1 year

Text

ʟᴏᴠɪɴɢ ᴇʟʟɪᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: Ellie Williams x Black!Fem!Reader

From: The Last Of Us Part II (Game Series)

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: What would it be like to fall in love with the smart-mouthed badass Ellie Williams in a world recovering from a zombie apocalypse?

Warnings: mentions of game-canon violence, mentions of weapons (primarily guns), mentions of blood, mentions of mental illness, cursing

A/N: Yet another tag I gotta fill with x black!reader, cuz lets be honest - let Ellie get a black gf; all manners and common sense are going out the window. JOEL IS ALIVE AND WELL IN THIS

Tags: @verachii @percsane

You and Ellie first met when she was sent to your little garden/apothecary to assist you in finding some plants that had been rebudding around the Jackson community area. At first, she was apprehensive to the idea - why did she of all people had to go out and collect fucking flowers and leaves? - but her mouth had already gotten her into trouble today, and she couldn’t bear another lecture from anyone, so she bit her tongue hard and went to find your little greenhouse near the center of town.

Her amazement comes across as a look of confusion when she steps into the greenhouse. She’s met with a pleasant scent of lavender, bundles of it hanging from the doorframe. She finds you tending to some plants in the middle of the room, and when your eyes lock, her breath catches in her throat, because holy fuck, no one told her that this herbalist lady was her age, and fine as fuck.

You greet her with a smile and hand her the list of things needed, telling her to take her time since you know that some of them may be difficult to find. She flips through the notebook you’ve given her, paying special attention to the detailed drawings, commemorating them to memory, before she sets off with only the thought of pleasing the herbalist girl with her findings.

When she comes back, it’s the dead of night, and she’s a bit durtied and bruised from what you’re sure to be a fight with some undead, but she has every item on the list you’d given her. From that point on, the two of you became close acquaintances, friends, and more.

She finds your presence so peaceful. When you’re up making ointments and remedies for the patrol squads, she joins you with her sketchpad. The two of you sit together in perfect silence, some jokes being shared here and there. Her sketchpad quickly fills up with drawings of you doing various activities - drinking tea, watering plants, grinding leaves into powders, making dyes, etc. Watching you becomes her favorite pastime.

After a while of knowing each other, she becomes more comfortable with being a smartmouth with you, and is excited when you match her energy. You always have a rebuttal to one of her remarks and it sparks something in Ellie that urges her on more and more.

She becomes more touchy, too, though that aspect is primarily reassured by you. Although neither of you have disclosed much information about your past, you can tell she’s been through a lot, and could only imagine the worst when she would pull away from your touch in the beginning. It takes a long time, but the sweet hugs shared after accomplishing yet another supply run for you were definitely worth the wait.

And they’re quite literally the best hugs you’ve ever had. It could be a simple side hug with her pulling you by your hip to her chest, or it could be one of the longer ones, where her arms slip around your waist, her head dipping into your neck as she inhales your scent. You love them all.

Ellie claims that all your plant stuff is boring and lame, but she’s so very attentive when you’re rambling off a new herb or a new concoction you’ve made, and learns the names of the flowers you like the most. She soon learns that lavender is your favorite, which is why it hangs everywhere around the greenhouse, but also because it smells heavenly and reduces anxiety and provokes calmness. It quickly becomes her own, too.

She loves when you braid her hair. The two french braids leading into a bun is her favorite style, and even though she’s always messing it up when she’s on patrol, fighting and escaping from zombies and enemy groups alike, you’re happy to wash and redo her hair every time.

Ellie’s confession obviously doesn’t go the way she planned. And yes, she did plan on confessing to you her affections at some point, but she tells herself that she’s waiting for the right time. While part of that may be true, the bigger picture was her general fear of rejection - which was absurd to her, she never gave two fucks about what people thought about her. But when it came to you, everything mattered.

You’d never looked at Ellie’s notebook before. It was her privacy, and you were one to respect boundaries, but when she left the book open to go talk to Dina and Jesse about something, especially on a particular page that had your face drawn onto the cream paper of the sketchbook, your curiosity took over your senses.

It was a drawing of you drinking tea and reading a book. You remember that day - she was exceptionally quiet that day and only wanted to be around you. So you let her chill in the greenhouse with you while you did your normal routines. The intricate and detailed lines on the page sparked something in you that you thought you had pushed away, a surge of emotions reawakening in your stomach.

Ellie comes back in and nearly goes into a rage when she sees you seemingly flipping pages in her sketchbook, and although you try to reason with her, she’s not having it. She thinks you invaded her privacy, and she continues to think so as she leaves the greenhouse for the evening.

She comes back though, at the dead of night as you’re cleaning up and setting things up for the next morning, looking remorseful like a lost puppy. She apologizes, and you come to sit next to her, your legs touching, and you tell her that you accept her apology.

Ellie pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes for what seems like forever, before she begins speaking. The way she speaks is damn near contradicting about she feels about you, but in the end she gets her point across - she likes you, a lot, and needs to know how you feel about her in order for her to get some form of clarity and sanity back to her brain

And you tell her that you feel the same, that you’re attracted to her in such a way and so strongly that it shouldn’t even be possible - surely isn’t wise or sane considering the times the two of you currently live in, and yet, you still found yourself yearning for the brunette when you knew you shouldn’t

At this point the two of you are impossibly close, and the way Ellie’s eyes keep darting between your own and your lips, it’s definitely got a pool of heat swirling in your stomach. And before either of you realize it, her lips are on yours, and you’re experiencing your first and the most electrifying kiss of your life. And just like that, you become Ellie’s and she becomes yours

She makes a vow to protect you in every possible way she can. When and if you do go out on the search for supplies, she’s always accompanying you regardless of whatever she may have been doing prior. She teaches you how to use a gun and a bow and arrow (of which, you favor the latter) so that you have the skills to protect yourself when she’s not there.

She never let anyone talk to you any kind of way, but its amplified now because she has an obligation to make sure people know who the fuck they’re talking to. No one talks out the side of their neck to her girl and gets away with it. If all she does is curse them out, as long as they get the idea and don’t pull anything anymore, all is good.

Introducing you to Joel as your girlfriend is the most awkward thing for her…and you better believe he’s poking fun at her about her stellar choice in a significant other (trust me, he’s been waiting for this moment, because he just knew that she’d go after you of all people in the community. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was in on organizing your initial meeting. He’s definitely the wingman Ellie didn’t know she needed.

She doesn’t engage in PDA, but when it’s just the two of you alone? Best believe she’s getting her fill of hugs and kisses whenever she can. You’re not promised tomorrow, so she wants to love you to the fullest extent she can.

Brings you back flowers from her patrols that you don’t even ask for, but because they’re pretty and remind her of you. You can try as you might to tell her you don’t need them - it’ll only provoke her to bring you more

On the longer nights where she’s too exhausted mentally and physically to speak, she curls into you and just lets you take over her senses. It’s a rather rare occasion, so you savor it while it lasts. You take care of Ellie at her most vulnerable and that’s all she could ever really ask for from someone.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

#black reader #black tumblr #black tlou #tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 ellie #the last of us 2 ellie #tlou2 x reader #tlou2 x black!reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x black!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x blk!reader #ellie x black!reader #ellie x reader

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ramblingoak · 3 months

Text

The Repugnant

Chapter One: Little Starfish

Your father always warned you that you were too curious for your own good. After hearing rumors of the pirate ship The Repugnant in the area you snuck out of your father's villa to try and get a peek at the dreaded pirate and his crew of monsters. But what happens when Captain Mary Goore gets a peek of you first?

Mary Goore x Female Reader

Warnings: vampire!pirate!Mary Goore, vampire shenanigans, horror, violence, no one is dead but they're not exactly alive either...this will make sense later, some suggestive moments but nothing too spicy yet, Copia, Terzo and the ghouls will be showing up soon too, nsfw 18+ mdni, 1,800 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the banner and the collage and thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

“Don’t leave the house at night.”

That was the one rule your father had always insisted you abide by. Of course there were plenty of others, especially as you had gotten older and more rebellious. But staying inside of the safety of your family’s villa when night fell was always the most important rule and it was the one you had always obeyed. ‘Strange creatures run amok in the night Miss’ was what your nanny would whisper to you while tucking you into bed each night, ‘Best to stay indoors and let the guards handle things’.

In retrospect you probably should have listened to her.

You tried to stick to the shadows around your home as much as possible while you crept along the perimeter. The guards always stuck to the same routes and after years of watching them from your bedroom window you knew exactly when and where they’d be. But tonight the moon was full and bright leaving very few places to hide. You could not get caught, not when tonight was the best chance you had to see a man you had dreamed about since you were a child.

Pirates were common in the waters around the island you called home. Occasionally they’d come into port and enjoy the various taverns close to the docks. The island was a popular spot to restock ships for both merchants, soldiers and pirates alike. For the most part everyone kept to themselves and rarely did any fights occur. The silent agreement the groups had with each other made it easier for you to go into town and hear all sorts of stories of life on the sea.

One story in particular had always been your favorite though, a story of a man so dangerous that even the most skilled pirate crew hardly dared say their name. For years you thought it to be a tall tale, a story that just became more and more fantastical as it was told. The descriptions of the ship itself, The Repugnant, made it seem like some sort of vessel that came straight from hell. Black wood, black sails and it was always surrounded by a deadly mist, it sailed the sea without rival. But it was The Repugnant’s crew that people feared the most.

They weren’t men or women, but monsters. Creatures that even the darkest imagination couldn’t conjure. The rumor was that they were all cursed, that years ago they had crossed paths with a warlock and been doomed to roam the seas for an eternity, undead and wicked. Everyone had different ideas as to what the crew had been turned into. You’d heard everything from ghosts to zombies to sirens and then monsters you had never even heard of before. The only one of the crew that everyone could agree on was the captain.

It was said that Captain Mary Goore was a vampire.

Even the word ‘vampire’ sent a shiver down your spine. As a child it scared you to think of someone drinking your blood, of draining you dry and leaving you for dead. However as you grew older it seemed to stir something else in you. Your nanny was always one to stoke your imagination and had often snuck you books about creatures of the night. You would pore over them while you were supposed to be asleep, reading over and over again about their lore.

When you’d finally fall asleep it was always to dream about a dark clad figure meeting you in the dark. Their cold hands caressing you in ways no one else had before. Dark promises whispered into your skin that would stoke all sorts of desires within you. More than once you had woken up from such a dream with a gasp on your lips and sweat cooling on your skin. And more and more it wasn’t just a gasp on your lips but a name…

All of this led you to where you were now, rushing through the woods that separated your home from the town near the sea. You had put on your plainest dress to hopefully blend in a little more. All you wanted was a peek, just one glance of the man that had been in your dreams for years now. You wanted to see the shock of dark hair on his head, you wanted to see the bright red of his eyes…you wanted to see Captain Goore in the flesh.

As soon as you had overheard the guards talk about a sighting of The Repugnant it had been all you had thought about. Each night since you had stayed up for hours watching the water for any sign of the ship. It was tonight, after most everyone in the house had gone to bed, that you had seen the mist in the distance. Watched as it grew thicker and closer. When the moon had broken away from the clouds briefly there was no mistaking what was sailing towards the docks.

Your feet stumbled as you hit the cobblestones that led into town. The mist had drifted along the paths from the water and for the first time you felt a little thrill of fear go through you. It was getting harder and harder to see where you were going. Despite growing up here and knowing the town like the back of your hand the mist was confusing you. At first you thought you were hearing other townsfolk talking as they wandered around you but the whispers were becoming darker and rougher.

They were becoming far less human sounding.

You ducked into the alley by the Moon Bay Tavern, leaning against the wall to try and collect yourself. The realization of the situation you were in was starting to dawn on you. All you could see in your mind was your father’s face as he called you a ‘foolish girl’. He had been lamenting more and more that your head was too far into the clouds and you would soon need to come back down to earth. You had ignored him like usual but over the last month even your nanny was saying the same sort of thing.

Your clothes were becoming finer, your posture was being corrected and even your hobbies were being commented on. It was like they were trying to mold you into a completely different person. Someone that you had no desire to be. The same night you had overheard the guards mention The Repugnant being seen was also the same night your father had stated he would need to find you a husband soon. The idea of being handed off to someone like you were a piece of furniture was revolting and you wanted no part of it.

So it was with all those thoughts swirling in your head that you had begun to cling to the idea of Mary more and more. It was just a fantasy and now that you were down here surrounded by who knows what, the stupidity of your plan was apparent. You pushed away from the wall with a groan and turned back towards the way you came.

A foolish girl indeed.

“Hey little starfish, what are you doing out so late?”

It seemed like your blood had instantly turned to ice water from the voice drifting up from behind you. The sounds of boots on the cobblestones grew closer, far too close but you couldn’t seem to convince your limbs to move. You were frozen in place because deep down you knew who the voice belonged to. Gathering all the courage you could muster you turned and found yourself face to face with the man you had dreamed of meeting but now dreaded to see.

They were dressed mostly in black save for a red sash around their waist that had various weapons hanging from it. A large three point hat was perched on their head and it cast a shadow over their face. It did nothing to obscure those eyes though, two piercing red eyes stared right at you like they could see straight into your soul. Above you the moon finally was able to peek through the clouds and a blue swath of light hit the man, no the vampire, in front of you.

They were far more handsome than you had ever dreamed of.

“Cat got your tongue?” They grinned at you widely, showing off their fangs. “Come on now, you gotta say something.”

“I’m uh…I’m…” You shook your head, taking a deep breath and trying to calm your breathing. “I’m just leaving. From work.”

“Oh yeah?” Mary took a few steps closer, their eyes roaming up and down your body. “And where is that?”

“Um, the t-tavern.” You pointed a finger to the building, wincing at how badly your hand was shaking. “But my shift is over so I’ll be heading home now.”

You had barely managed to turn away before Mary’s hand was on your arm. The coldness of their skin quickly seeped through the fabric of your dress and you gasped, trying to tug your arm away without success.

“Now, now. What’s the rush?” Mary tugged you to the side and started backing you up against the wall, barely leaving any room between you. “You know starfish, it’s kinda funny.”

“What’s funny?”

“I’ve been in there for a bit, looking for something good to eat. But I didn’t see you at all. Wonder why that is?”

“I work in the kitchen.”

“The kitchen? A pretty thing like you?” Mary clicked their tongue while shaking their head. “No, no you’d definitely be out in the tavern serving drinks.”

“Well you’re wrong.” You took a quick breath and held your head up high, finding the tiniest bit of courage to meet those red eyes. “Now let me go.”

Mary’s eyes seemed to darken a bit and you had to look away. Slowly you could feel them leaning in closer and closer until their nose touched your jawline. You couldn’t hold in your gasp when they ran it along your skin, inhaling deeply as they did so. When they were done they stayed close, moving their lips to rest against your ear.

“Doesn’t smell like you work in the kitchen. In fact it smells like you don’t belong here at all.” He laughed when you tried to pull away, not letting you move even an inch. “To me it smells like you belong on that hill above town. In a house your daddy built.”

“Let me go!”

Mary growled when you tried to pull away again and the sound seemed to reverberate through your body. With a snarl they shoved you roughly back against the wall, your head hitting the stone painfully.

“Sorry little starfish, I won’t be letting you go. Remember when I said I was looking for something good to eat?” Mary reached up to grab their hat, tossing it down on the ground. Their black hair fell across their face and they quickly brushed it away all while smiling down at you. Your eyes fell to those fangs and you were unable to look away. “I think I found it.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #mary goore x female reader #mary goore fanfiction #mary goore #mary goore x reader #reader insert

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sadboytournament · 6 months

Text

ROUND TWO

Propaganda

Read more added due to the length

Anthony Lockwood: (via @its-your-mind)

Simon Petrikov: (via @transgendersimonpetrikov) "...

Simon. Simon is not initially introduced as Simon, rather is introduced as Ice King, an insane and Really out of it "villain". Throughout almost all of the first 3 seasons, you ONLY see him being weird and getting beat up a lot but under all of it is incredibly sad for reasons he can't distinguish aside from crushing loneliness. Until the Christmas special, they pull a COMPLETE 180 on ice kings character and reveal his backstory - and just to shine some light on this, up until this point in the show, Finn is the only CONFIRMED human in the show. All others are assumed to be extinct. Simon's/Ice King's backstory reveals a few things to the main characters and the audience that makes the characters see him in a new, sympathetic light - he was a human antiquarian with a fiancee (named betty) who just so happened to put a cursed crown on his head as a joke to amuse betty. And then boom! He's cursed. Unlike some other, admittedly limited amount of characters, however, after putting on the crown, he does not immediately go insane. It happens over the course of a few years (which in itself implies he has insane amounts of willpower, even still coming through with Ice King given that the crown tells its users to freeze the whole world with themself inside) .

So, he's cursed, and betty supposedly left him, as that's to what he's known. He assumed he scared her and she ran away and doesn't love him anymore, and spends years grieving over that. But in the few years after putting on the crown and before fully losing his mind, he has to take care of a girl after a goddamn war (where the climax is a detonated mutagenic bomb that makes radioactive zombies and shit) that he found crying in the middle of the street. So, if his mental state was already declining BEFORE, it sure as hell is now because he has to wear the cursed crown more and more to protect himself and this girl and the effects of it clearly show every time he puts it on in flashbacks with himself in Clear distress over the effects of it . So after a while he is scared for himself, and, to quote him, "I fear my thoughts are no longer my own". So then he begrudgingly leaves the girl he cared for over the course of several years before he goes fully mad and loses himself. So then aside from some mentioned stuff that happens before his insanity fully sets in (like being hypnotized which surely did not help his already deteriorating mind) and then for a thousand years he's just pretty much Gone.

In season 4 episode 25, "I remember you", he goes to marceline (the girl he cared for, though he doesn't remember that) and asks her to help him write a song to draw in the ladies. I won't go through the whole episode, but the song they end up making is not anything like that - he took over notes and pages from a scrapbook and Marceline found some he wrote before he fully went mad while desperately trying to get him to remember who he was, and they turned the notes into a song. There is a lot of crying from marceline, meanwhile Ice King has zero fucking clue what's going on there and just thinks they're having fun. The entire episode is up on YouTube, and I would recommend watching just to get the idea.

Near the end of season 5, he gets a brief moment of lucidity and return to his former self, and he makes a time portal to say sorry and goodbye to betty, and she jumps through only to discover that without the crown Simon is dying. He says later in the episode that he'd rather Die than go back to being Ice king. She wants to find a way to help him so she gets him turned back into ice king so she can find a way to cure him, with her going insane by gaining magic in the process (by proxy of mms, which is a whole thing itself).

Series finale rolls around, he's finally back, but in a chaos deitys "stomach", which reverted him and betty back to their sane, non magic selves. Their moment is short lived by the "stomach" closing in on them, about to crush them to death. They've seemingly accepted their fates, and embrace before their impending deaths, but they're given a way out, betty staying behind despite his pleas and using the original wish state of the crown to wish Simon safe and thereby fusing with the chaos deity and leaving. The next scene is Simon breaking down and crying where she previously was.

So, 12 years pass between the finale and the spin off, and he's just absolutely tired with everything. Hes a 20th century man frozen in time and thrown into into new world after living 1000 years insane and sad without the love of his life with him and he has to deal with that. He is constantly barraged with people talking about a story he wrote when he was insane, saying that it was great, wishing he'd write more, etc etc. Even saying he was cooler when he was insane. Still grieving betty, he tries to Actually Perform A Ritual That Could Destroy The World just to see her again. It goes wrong and the 2 main characters from the story he wrote while insane pop out of his head. After a bit, he finds out that they're not fiction and instead a universe planted in his head . Their magic was stripped from their world when he was reverted back to himself and since he's wallowing in so much misery he decides to find a way to go Back to being insane and commit the equivalent of suicide and perform ego death once again for people he just met because he felt his life was worth so little that serving any purpose even if detrimental to himself would give himself a meaning to live. Just as he's about to finish this, he finally gets to talk to now-chaos-deity betty, and she gets it in his head that his life is worth living and then sends him off to live his life after an emotional scene of them finally ready to let go of their losses..."

#tumble tournaments #the sadboy tourney #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #simon petrikov #Adventure Time

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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year

Text

she knows | high and dry part one.

navigation | natasha romanoff series masterlist

pairings: older!scarlett johansson x younger!reader

chapter one | chapter two: eyes on you

chapter summary: every minute and hour, you feel yourself slipping away from her - and you don’t know how to solve it out. what makes it worse is that she knows that you are slipping away.

warnings: slight angst, smut, strap-on used, dom!scarlett & sub!reader, pet names, dirty talking, and more.

author’s note: this is just a short chapter since it’s like an introduction of the story, so hopefully you’ll enjoy it! let me know your thoughts about this story, thank you <3

When I exited the diner outside of Manhattan, completely disheveled and with my eyes swollen to the point where you might have thought I was a walking zombie, the wind felt cold. I looked around and decided that maybe this time I could just walk home by myself without having to worry about my secret partner picking me up. Even though I adored her, she occasionally refused to move out of my way when I needed some alone time.

I zipped up my coat and set foot on a familiar road I had taken before I met her. Tonight was so chilly that I could hardly move as I stepped onto the pavement; I could see my own breath in the air. I considered what I'll have to do when I got back home. Homework is not an exception; it must be completed. Then I'll cook myself dinner and eat with my cat, Leo. And tonight, if I'm not mistaken, my roommate Aaron will be returning home. He loves to party at all hours and minutes, which is one thing I know about him. If I have time, I can call Scarlett and ask how she is doing today.

But sometimes, I don’t even like talking to her. She can be hard-headed, and most of the time she’s jealous of my roommate.

I soon arrived home and continued to do my thesis for tomorrow, which has to be passed before lunch break. I grabbed my phone from the table and received a message from Scarlett, as expected.

Scarlett: Baby, I could’ve picked you up… why didn’t you tell me you went home on your own? You know there are a lot of bad guys there that could hurt you.

I feel like I can't function on my own at this point. Scarlett would always get in the way when I tried to do that. Am I too flimsy? What was the matter with me? Nothing, I pondered. I was perfectly fine; she wasn't. She seems to be present with every move I make. And as much as I liked the idea of someone looking after me, it can be annoying. I typed a quick message and continued to study once it has sent.

You: i just feel like i wanted some alone time, scar.

Scarlett: I know, but this is a scary world. You live in New York, Y/n. Lots of bad things can happen here.

You: but i know how to take care of myself

Scarlett: I know you do, darling. Sorry, I just feel like I should be protective of a little girl like you.

I was too busy staring at my laptop screen and my cat's purring on the other side of the room to respond to her. I lifted him and placed him on my lap as I stood up. I rubbed him while imagining what my life would be like without her. I would have stayed the same, and I would have never gotten the job at the diner that she gave me.

I was making dinner when I heard the door being closed. I turned over my shoulder and it was Aaron coming inside, smiling at me with squinted eyes. He asked, “What are you making?”

“Grilled cheese sandwich,” I responded, chuckling as I flipped the sandwich on the pan. “Have you eaten dinner?”

He shook his head. “No,” he sat on the couch with his feet on the table, stretching out his arms. “I decided that I am going to be a changed man.”

He can be very funny at times; I find myself laughing at his remarks.

“Oh yeah? What made you realize that?”

He murmured, "Don't know." he pinched his forehead. "I think this was triggered for me when Alyssa broke up with me last week," he said, his voice getting a little more animated. “If I don’t party all the time, then I would save some of my money and spend it on something else.”

“With drinks?”

“No, with… expensive stuff.”

“Aaron, we don’t have space in our lot.”

Aaron clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Right, but maybe we should get a bigger lot then.”

“You do know that my oblivious mother is paying half of this rent, right?” he laughed at my response, then I could hear him walking towards me. “And besides, I like living here.”

I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that an actress, a famous one, is fucking me all the time.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Have you talked to your mom yet?”

My mother, I thought. She was exactly like any other mother, except she wasn't in my life. Though she does contribute to the rent in half, she never supports me emotionally. She never was. I could feel his eyes on me, and I stiffened. I replied with a stutter, “N-No, but I think I will call her later. I don’t know.”

After a short dinner with him, I took a quick bath and lit up my candle that smelled like lavender, since it was Scarlett’s favorite smell. I laid my head on the pillow and stroke my cat’s fur, feeling at peace.

Call her, I suddenly thought. Give your "girlfriend" a call; she deserves to hear about your day.

But what if I just need to be alone for now? I have to stop thinking about the guilt that is building inside of my body, I can’t handle it for now.

I just can’t.

When I exited the campus, Scarlett was waiting outside. She was smoking a cigarette inside her car because she found it relieved her anxiety when she saw students passing by. As soon as I entered her car, I kissed her on the cheek, watching her lips turn into a grin.

“Hey,” I greeted as I shut the door beside me. “Aaron isn’t in the apartment right now, do you want to come by and visit?”

“That was actually part of my plan since we can’t go out too much,” she said as she turned on the engine of her car. I felt her hand touching the back of mine. “I’ve missed you, baby. I felt like you were stressed out yesterday. Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head and sighed. She'll be upset if I let her know I've been feeling this way lately. Every time I bring up our relationship's affair, she gets upset. There’s no escaping that.

“Not really, I just want to be with you right now,” I whispered to her, which I fully meant it. I loved spending my time with her, it felt like our love grows each time we see each other. But sometimes, she just couldn’t leave me alone – it’s almost as if I was a predator in her eyes.

“Okay,” she whispered back, kissing the temple on my head. “Why don’t we get some food first, hm? You must be hungry.”

You’re a homewrecker, her wife would despise you.

She bought McDonald's for our lunch because that was our go-to comfort food, then she ate it at my apartment. I was happily munching on my french fries as I watched Scarlett put music into the CD player. Something like this should always be cherished and never let go, or it might just slip away as you blink your eyes close.

“How was class?” she asked in the midst of our conversation that we had a few minutes ago. “Did you learn a lot today?”

“Not really, our professor just wants us to write him something honest. But I don’t really know what he means by honest,” I explained. “Like does he want us to be honest with our feelings? Our thoughts? Anyway, I don’t even want to talk about it.”

“That’s okay, we don’t have to.”

She walked up to me and stroked the back of my hair, as she kissed the tip of my nose. I hear her say, “Everything’s going to be okay, my love. You don’t have to be scared about this, you know it will work out the way we planned to.”

“I know,” I answered as I watched her sitting down beside me, her hand still on my head. “I just feel like we’re hurting everyone around us. If your wife finds out about this, I don’t know how much I can live with that guilt. And if she even exposes me to the media, I don’t feel like I could blame her.”

“I’ll handle it, okay?” her voice felt reassuring, but it wasn’t enough. She leans closer and kisses me feverishly, I could feel myself stiffening. Mumbling, she added: “You don’t have to be scared baby, she’ll never hurt you. I won’t let that happen.”

She made love to me that day, her cock ramming up my insides, her hand on my lower back as she moans to my ear, biting the lobe. As the strap penetrated deeper into my body and struck the point that pushes me over the edge, I felt myself crying with both pain and pleasure. When she spoke to me, Scarlett would even purr the sweetest words into my ear. And as I heard the sound of our skin smacking against each other and felt it, I would just cling desperately to the arm of the couch.

“Fuck! You feel so good,” she whines, holding down my hips on the couch, making me let out a scream. “Oh god, keep yourself tight for me baby… just like that, yeah…”

“Scar–” my breath hitches. “M-Mommy, please slow down…”

She whines on top of me, and pulls her cock out slowly, then pushes it back in with a loud groan. She whispered, “Can’t help myself, sweetheart, your pussy is just so tight for me.”

I struggled to describe how I felt myself slipping into oblivion with each thrust she makes. She clung to me, her hips making a repetitive upward motion as I felt her wet lips on my shoulder. She placed her hand on my left breast and gave it a tight squeeze.

I screamed out of euphoria.

She grunted as she smacked my ass, her teeth feeling tense. "No one will ever make you feel good like I do," she said. “You can’t ever leave me, okay? You can't leave me, promise me that!”

She spoke with a desperate tone, and I'm not sure how to fix that. especially since I feel bad every time she shoves herself into me.

“I-I promise,” I mewled, my eyes rolling back in my head. “I won’t leave, Mommy.”

“I love you so much,” Scarlett cried out as we kissed each other sloppily. I felt her saliva all over my mouth. “Please don’t go, just don’t go…”

Squeeze it apart, that’s fine.

She knows.

let me know if you want to be tagged on the comment section below!

#scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #marvel fanfic #scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson fanfic #high and dry series

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kisses-for-you · 1 month

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Nemesis - Carlos Oliveira

Carlos Oliveira X GN!Reader

Summary: During a fight with a creature known as 'Nemesis', you get injured but you try to hide it from Carlos.

Word Count: 1,839

You and Carlos had been trying to find more survivors to gather at the train station, fighting off a lot of undead on your search. The undead, however, were not the only problem.

A tyrant, whose name you learned was Nemesis, was another problem to add to your list.

While roaming the streets of Raccoon City, you hear loud footsteps behind you and Carlos. It can't possibly be more zombies because they're not that loud, so what the hell is it?

You and Carlos turn around and you're met with a terrifying sight. It appears to be a towering, mutated monstrosity with gruesome deformities and a grotesque appearance. Its head is elongated, and its skull is exposed, revealing pulsating, mutated brain tissue. Its mouth is filled with sharp teeth, giving it a menacing and carnivorous appearance. It's wearing a tattered trench coat and looks well over 7 feet tall, making it a literal giant compared to you.

"What the fuck?.." you mutter under your breath, disgusted but more scared than anything.

The creature held a menacing glare as it stared at both of you, just a few mere feet in front of it.

Your breathing becomes faster and more shallow as your heart pounds in your chest. You don't move a single muscle, unsure of what's going to come next.

You glance over at Carlos on your left, who seems to be keeping his composure pretty well. How the fuck can he look so calm?

You have no time to think before Nemesis lunges forward, coming right at you both. Carlos dodges and goes to the left, but you happen to go to the right.

Nemesis whips around, turning to Carlos. You have to do something. And fast.

You decide to whistle at Nemesis, catching its attention, and making it look at you.

"Here, boy!" you call out to it as if it were a dog.

This seems to work though because it starts heading towards you. You start to realise that you seriously didn't think this one through.

Having no idea what to do, your feet stay glued to the ground. All you can do is stand and watch as it gets closer, ready to kill you.

You clench your fists as you feel your palms slowly start sweating. All the anxiety and fear was finally getting to you.

"Y/N!" Carlos shouts to you, moments before Nemesis throws you against a nearby wall.

After being violently hurled against the wall, you crumpled to the ground, clutching your aching ribs. Your face contorted in pain as your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out the distant sounds of Carlos, who was now shooting at Nemesis.

You slowly begin to feel a warm substance coming out of your side. You winced as you clutched your side, where a jagged shard of metal had pierced your flesh. Blood welled around the foreign object. Luckily for you, you were wearing nearly all black clothes, meaning it at least wouldn't stain.

Each breath sent waves of excruciating pain through your body but you weren't the type to give up so easily.

You pull the object out carefully, not wanting to do any further damage. You didn't want Carlos to know about this. You didn't want to make him worry any more than he already was. Sure, it wouldn't necessarily be easy to keep a secret, you could certainly try, however.

You zip up your leather jacket, hoping it will do the job and hide your injury.

You look up and see Nemesis starting to kneel on the ground, clearly stunned by one of Carlos' shots. As soon as Carlos knows it's down, he runs over to you.

"Hey, you good?" he asks, his face tightened with concern as he watched you sitting up against the wall.

You give him a small nod and reply with your most reassuring tone, "Yeah, I'm fine. My ribs just kinda hurt."

You hear him let out a deep sigh before placing a hand on your shoulder and speaking to you, "Come on. I'm taking you back to the station to get you checked out. We need to make sure it's nothing serious."

"I told you. I'm fine." You snapped, accidently.

You don't want to go back because you know he'll realise what happened. And you don't want that. It'll just stress him out even more.

"They'll probably just tell you that you got a bruised rib or something. Let's go, Y/N."

You want to argue back, say that you don't want to go, but you realise that'll just make it more suspicious.

"Fine." You mutter as you finally begin to get up.

You clenched your jaw, determined not to let a whimper escape your lips. Your knuckles turned white as you balled your hand into a fist.

You slightly lose your balance, however, Carlos is right there to catch you. One of his arms wraps around your waist, holding you in place. This kind of gives you butterflies.

"It's okay, I got you. You sure you're okay?" he asks you, once again, now more concerned than before.

"I'm sure. Thanks, Carlos," you reply, not even hesitating to lie right to his face.

Carlos doesn't look convinced as his brows slightly furrow, but he decides to just ignore the nagging feeling that there's something else you're not telling him.

You felt yourself slightly weakening from the loss of blood, though you tried your best not to show it.

Carlos starts to walk back to the station, before turning around to look at you and asking in a teasing tone, "Can you walk or do you want me to carry you?"

You roll your eyes playfully at him before giving him a small, forced smile, "I can walk perfectly fine by myself, Carlos."

He nods and turns back around, in the direction of the station. You manage to catch up with him, now walking at the same pace together.

You made sure your jacket stayed in place, not showing off your weakness to anyone or anything. You also try to minimize any movements that might reveal your ache and discomfort.

You finally get to the station after a couple of minutes of trying to hide the excruciating pain you are currently experiencing.

As soon as Carlos closes the gate, your knees suddenly feel wobbly, like they've turned to jelly. You try to hold yourself up by leaning against the wall, but it's no use and your knees suddenly give way, causing you to lose your balance and collapse onto the hard floor.

Carlos hears a thud behind him and turns around to investigate. You were sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, and clutching your side. You were incredibly pale, and you looked like you could pass out at any given moment.

His brows shoot up and his eyes widen as he rushes over to you, kneeling on the ground. "Y/N? Are you okay?"

You grunt in pain, slightly shaking your head, before undoing your jacket and lifting your shirt, revealing your wound that was still bleeding heavily.

He looks even more surprised as he glances over at the wound, inspecting it. "Y/N, this is serious! Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" His tone was worried, but you could hear a hint of anger as well.

"I didn't want to make you worry..." You start to trail off, realising you don't necessarily have the best excuse.

"God, you absolute idiot," He mutters quietly under his breath before continuing to speak normally, "I'm going to get some supplies. I won't be long so just don't die on me, okay?"

You look up at him, getting more tired by the second. All you can do is give him a small, simple nod.

"Good," he says, before getting up to go grab supplies.

You watch him leave then you look down at your hand, which is holding the wound on your side. It was completely covered in blood. There was nothing you could do right now to try to stop the bleeding. Just hope and pray Carlos gets back soon.

Your vision blurred and your limbs felt heavy. You fought desperately to stay awake. The world around you seemed to spin in slow motion, and every breath was a battle.

Your eyelids, like lead weights, threatened to close with each passing second. Your thoughts grew foggy, and you struggled to concentrate, your mind slipping into a hazy abyss.

Cold sweat dotted your pale forehead, and your pulse, weak and thready, echoed in your ears like a distant drumbeat.

Despite the pain and dizziness, you clenched your teeth, determined to remain conscious, knowing that surrendering to the beckoning darkness might just mean you'll never get to see Carlos again.

You still had so much to tell him. How much you love him, and how much you want to be with him. There was a whole list of things you still had left to say and there was no way you were leaving without telling him every single one of them.

You heard footsteps coming towards you, but your vision was so blurry that you could barely make out who it was.

"Y/N?..." the figure next to you calls out your name. Their voice sounds so distant, even though they're so close.

You feel some pressure on your side, realising the person there was taking care of your wound.

You tried to say something, do something, anything to show that you were still here. But to no avail. Your limbs were heavy and completely unresponsive.

Each shallow breath you drew seemed to slip away like a fading whisper, and your chest rose and fell with diminishing effort.

You could feel a hand start to shake your shoulder. The touch sent warmth radiating through your skin.

They called out your name, this time, however, they didn't sound so distant. They sounded closer. With each breath that you took, it felt like life was slowly coming back to you.

You open your eyes, your vision is no longer blurry and when you look up, you're met with the familiar comforting, brown eyes that you've grown to love.

"Carlos?" You say his name, almost like a question, making sure it's him.

His strong arms enveloped you, providing a protective hold that made you feel as if nothing else mattered right now.

You slightly wince as you hug him back, your wound causing you more pain. Carlos notices and pulls away.

You look closely at his face and notice his eyes, which glistened with unshed tears, reflecting the light like dewdrops.

"I- I'm so glad you're okay. I thought I lost you, Y/N... Please, promise me that you won't pull another stunt like that ever again." His voice practically begged.

He was worried and scared, he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't.

"I promise, Carlos. I'm sorry."

His lips curled into a gentle, small smile and he mumbled something. You could just about make it out.

"I love you."

#carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #re3 #re3r #re3 remake #resident evil 3 #resident evil 3 remake #re3 carlos #re3r carlos #imagine

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elsewhereuniversity · 5 months

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(I put in an ask aaaages ago about a running app- Zombies run! I still love thinking about people who lean in to the narrative weight at EU, and the consequences that can flow from that. So. I give you this: an alternative to the running club :D :D :D )

I want to make it very clear, though, we absolutely did not plan this. We had no idea this would happen! How would we?

Look. We just wanted to run.

We all know the track team is a joke and the actual Running Club is a trap, like, no, do not join the running club.

...I am obligated- and take that as you will- to tell you that you of course can join the running club! It meets at many different times, even at night! So convenient! You will get very good at running very fast, very quickly!

...like I said, the running club wasn’t an option for us. But EU is a beautiful campus! And we were all used to being pretty dang active, and treadmills get boring.

And then Cassie had an idea. A bad idea, to be sure, but we were dumb college kids. Bad ideas are the very best kind of ideas.

There’s this app- part podcast, part city-builder, part running app. You progress the story by going on runs, and the app keeps track of where you are and how fast you’re going, and you automatically pick up supplies while you’re out to build up your base. The story is pretty dang engaging and immersive, the voice acting is great, and it even comes with a name for you to assume when you run, purpose and identity all in one: Runner 5.

The thing is.

The thing is, is that the story is a zombie apocalypse story.

I know, I know. But like, obviously if we were going to run, things were going to chase us. We figured that this way, we got to decide what was chasing us. It felt safer, yeah? Like. We were being chased, but we could stop it anytime we wanted.

Nothing at EU would start hunting us if something else already was! That’d be rude. And like. It was true.

Nothing else bothered us. None of the fae or any of EU’s other characters hunted us.

Just the zombies.

Just the zombies that stopped being confined to our headphones.

So. Yeah. That’s how you get an accidental zombie apocalypse. And then of course it kept happening because, well, college kids are stupid, what can I say.

Fair warning, people will not believe you anymore if you say it’s an accident. That wore out after, like, the fifth one. Less accidental zombie apocalypse and more apocalypse on demand, you get me? I’ve heard some folks are planning to make a whole thing of it this spring break.

Oh! Professor Grant won’t give last minute extensions anymore unless you actually get bit, so, you know, do the math on how desperate you are yourself, but he will accept photo-essays in lieu of one assignment per semester as long as it’s not your final project. Unless your final project is documenting the Spring Break Apocalypse Fest and the inevitable fallout, but there’s already like three art students and a couple journo majors on that, so good luck getting that cleared.

#submission #zombies #the narrative force at work #running clubs #i had fun with this #runwildwithme #stories #long post #love the logic that off course if you're running something is gonna chase you. you're right

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creepydixon · 1 year

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Hello! I saw that you write dark Daryl and we’re taking requests and I absolutely couldn’t resist sending one in😩😩

What about Daryl with a wife reader? He was infatuated with her even before the walkers and when they finally got together he was on cloud nine. But then the world goes to shit and he becomes obsessed, if that was even possible. At the quarry, the Dixon’s kept to themselves anyway, no need for her to interact with the other survivors in the camp. On the farm? He’s hovering behind her as she does chores, insists on being in the same guard shift as her (she def gets some breathing room when he’s out looking for Sophia tho)

In the prison? Seeing her locked up in a cage gives him ideas, she should just stay with him forever. He’s almost grateful for the end of the world, he’s able to get away with so much more shit and she can’t leave. Where would she go? The group is inseparable, and so getting Daryl away from his wife is next to impossible

Anyway, something like that. Sorry if it’s too long and if it’s not something you’re interested in doing it’s no problem! Thank you for your time! ☺️☺️

I like your mind anon 🤍 I have a hard time with "wife" and "husband" readers, dunno why but I just happen to not be a big fan of marriage. but for you anon, I'll try.

Dark!Daryl unnatural obsession with his wife

warning: stalking, manipulation, gaslighting, isolation, prisoning, twisted love I guess, in a zombie apocalypse all rules are gone

• It took Daryl such a long time to just convince you to go on a date with him before the outbreak happened. He dressed up in the nicest clothes he could find, took you to the nicest (it was a fast dinner) restaurant, and generally tried in his best way to show his best side to you.

• What you don't know though is that he had already had his eyes on you from the first moment he saw you. He started to take simple notes about where you worked, what walks you used to do, and where you lived. All of those things are wrong but he was pretty good at hiding and not getting caught.

• So when the big day came when he proposed to you and you said yes, it was like he was walking on clouds. After all those nights outside your window and watching you, all those days he took his chances to "bump" into you, all of it was worth it. You two were getting married and you would take his last name.

• The big wedding day didn't happen though. The outbreak happened just one month before you two would get together. Daryl brought you along with him and his brother Merle. Daryl told you to stay close to him, now with such a dangerous disease, it is better if you stay close to him so he can keep you safe.

• But you wanted to be close to Atlanta. Maybe the disease would die out soon and maybe you can keep yourself close to the town. That's where you met other survivors that had started to camp outside of Atlanta.

• Daryl hated it though. These were strangers. Who knew what crazy shit people will do during an apocalypse? They could snap in their head and try to hurt you. Or get you killed.

• "Why should we talk with 'em?" Daryl had asked you one night. "Why should we trust 'em? Just because they seem nice now, doesn't mean they need to be nice later."

• Which proved his point. A man and a widow screw around in the forest like animals, and then suddenly the new sheriff in the camp chained up his brother Merle on the roof.

• "You see?" Daryl was sobbing out to you in anger. "They took Merle from me. Do you have any idea what they could do to ya? First, they take Merle, soon they'll either chain you or me on a roof to let us rot. We can't trust these people."

• After that, it didn't turn much better. He was literally next to you, walked wherever you were walking, never leaving your side. Suddenly it wasn't just Daryl who was hunting for food, you had to come along too so he knew you were in good hands.

• After the horrific events at a scientist bomb office (at least you two had a nice shower together), the group finally arrives at a farm. Well, except for losing Sophia on the road.

• You had cried, you cried with Carol that Sophia was missing. Daryl couldn't stand that a child got lost. Shit, what if it were your child missing? Now, you two hadn't discussed a lot about children, but Daryl knows if you two get children he would protect them with his life.

• When Daryl was gone most of the days, you got some space. When you stood on the porch on the farm you couldn't help but feel a bit. . . revealed? It is horrible to say it, you would never say it out loud, but it was good that Sophia disappeared. It gave you time to actually talk with the others for the first time. You got some space. You got to have your own time.

• "They aren't that bad actually," you spoke softly to Daryl. Daryl glanced over at you, he lay in the bed and had got shot by Andrea. "I hope you're kidding," Daryl grumbled. "None of these people are looking for Sophia. I am the only one who does it, even her own mother isn't looking for her. None of them is trusting each other, Lori is sleeping with two guys. Andrea shot me."

• You couldn't argue against that. It made you feel sorry for him and you saw what a big heart he has.

• But then he stopped looking for Sophia, to rest himself. But he didn't rest, oh no, this was his time to walk around and see what is actually happening on the farm with you. He didn't leave you for one second. Glaring a bit at everyone who stepped a bit closer to you two.

• "Let them talk with us for one second," you whispered to Daryl. "So olive oyl can complain about having two boyfriends? Or that Andrea is proud of a girl to cut herself? I love ya, ya got a big heart for everyone, but they aren't good for you. They're selfish town girls."

• You couldn't argue against that.

• And the farm life didn't last forever. As the barn burned up, the herd came to the farm, you had to escape. As Daryl had you on the motorcycle, he had this big encouragement to drive you two far away. But you had said you two needed to find the others. He couldn't say no to you. Not yet at least.

• Maybe his mind snapped a bit when you two were at the prison. You had jokingly stepped into a cell and closed the door behind you. Grinning at Daryl in a joking way "Never did I think we would spend time together behind locked bars."

• He had barely heard you. Barley thought clearly. But when he saw you like that. Saw you behind bars, something sweet twisted in his mind, something that gave him a pleasure to see you locked up.

• The other ones in the group didn't dare to walk near you now. Always you were near your husband Daryl who would look at them with a twisted eye, a small glare. They understood you two wanted to be alone.

• But you didn't want to be alone with your husband. He had started to give small hints that perhaps this group is more broken than ever, perhaps it is time for you two to leave. But you didn't want that.

• Daryl doesn't sleep one night as he looks at you while you're sleeping. He remembers the old days before the breakout. How he watched you through your window, how he followed you through the park so you could "bump" into him. How he followed you to the work. All of that stuff was wrong. . . in the old world.

• Daryl blinks a couple of times and looks around in the cell you two were in. If you were locked up. . . no one would get you. And he could take care of you. Make sure no one ever gets close to you. Oh, how he hated some of your old friends, especially some of the men who were your friends. Too close to you in his opinion. But, it is new times. In the old world it would be seen as wrong, but in this new world? Well, who would stop him?

• He slowly gets up from the bed you're sharing. He walks out of the cell and quietly closes it. And then he stands there for a good while. Admiring how you are in a cage. His cage. There no one was allowed into, except him.

• His eyes twist a little bit when he watches you sleep inside the cell. He knows if he had done this in bright daylight, you would ask for help from the others. Oh, he has to be clever now. He has to take you away from here. He has to find his own little cage where no one has an impact on you, except him.

• So that day, that day when the Governor comes to the prison and blows it up and everyone got split, he couldn't be more grateful. He grabbed you and ran.

• Because now he had his chance to actually be with his wife alone, forever.

#daryl dixon #dark daryl dixon #the walking dead #yandere daryl dixon #twd #anon #request #thank you for sending this request and I hope this was what you were looking for!#as said: I'm not big fan of marriage trope but I tried to give this a chance!#my mind just happens to love when Daryl is obsessed with someone he isn't yet together with 🤤

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mama-frog · 5 months

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Session 7 Brainrot

I have so much to say about what happened this session so I'm gonna categorize this by person.

Gem: I find it incredibly interesting that she was the person given this task. A) Because she is the one the only Geminislay, B) Because she is like fresh meat to the watchers, C) Because of the infection she is already going through. The darkness spreading across her body probably made her more susceptible to the curse at first than anyone else on the server. She's such a strong player overall and the fact that she had a whole army behind her is terrifying.

Grian: The fact that he didn't get caught by the zombies says a lot about him. He's very good at running and hiding (especially from watcher stuff). I also want to point out WHERE he hid in the end of the session. The pesky bird went into a comfort nest. Definitely unintentional but definitely fun to think about.

Scott: Scott and Gem are, in my opinion, some of the smartest people on the server, so the fact that he didn't get caught doesn't surprise me and surprises me at the same time. Everytime Scott got boogey in a previous death game he did it in a way that was unsatisfactory for the watchers (Not actually killing and killing as soon as possible so the others weren't brewing up a pot of tasty negative emotions). He felt betrayed when Gem finally started to go after him (Even though she didn't go completely nuts until she turned red) and he has such a strong sense of loyalty to his allies. There's also some juxtaposition of him hiding underground while Grian hid in the air.

Martyn: Even though it was on a technicality, I think it's interesting that he was the only one not allowed to be infected. It's as if the watchers know that his chaos is secured and are trying to get the others in line with what they want to see. Also, he's just so damn good at being a red name, I feel like he's the only person to do it correctly in this series. I also feel like he was cheated out of his revenge plot on everyone else on the server because of the curse which might've been intentional on the Watcher's end.

Cleo: She is an icon and she IS the moment. I just love the irony of her being a zombie and not getting infected by the curse. I feel like her closeness to players like Martyn and Scott helped her in her ability to avoid the curse for so long. She's very smart with her allies this season.

Pearl: I'm terrified of how quick Pearl is to go insane when given the chance. Especially when it comes to her dogs. Tilly is always in her heart. This woman was YELLOW and decided on her own to bring up a warden when there already was one. And her gear is so well enchanted. She has learned a lot from previous seasons but she has also lost a bit of her sanity (Especially from double life). What a woman.

Joel: I don't know why he thought spawning 64 zombies so close to him and not on the others was a good idea, but man was it good comedy. Once he became a boogey he played really well though. He's so perfectly unhinged and after Lizzie dying he has very good reason to go insane on everyone else (The spine bit was cruel and unusual punishment). Underrated POV in my opinion.

Scar: Unhinged

Etho: Ok this part hinges on my theory that endermen are creatures created by the Watchers to interfere with the games. I fully believe that the watchers hated Etho being green so badly that they personally interfered to take him to yellow. The betrayal of your own tool killing you is a tasty snack for the watchers to enjoy. (Definitely not just Etho being washed up). Also the way he is so incredibly loyal to his team members even after being cursed. He's just a stand up guy.

Impulse: I just love the way him and Gem interact. He's like a proud dad whenever she does anything. That's it.

BDubs: I cackled when he got killed by a zombie again. Gem is hilarious for that. He did about as good as I expected under the curse. I do love all his interactions with Etho more than anything else. Those two are such unofficial soulmates (in a non-ship way).

Skizz: A true light on the server. All the better for the Watchers when he gets corrupted by the curse. He deserved to be mean after the heart got burned down.

Tango: This man's rage is so interesting. The way that it gets triggered most when people mess with his base is something I think could be explored (the ranch in double life, the ties base in limited life, and now the heart foundation).

Overall I have a lot of emotions about this last session

#secret life #session 7 #geminitay #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #watchers #I got a raging headache while writing this so the effort continuously went down #traffic series

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welcome-to-roomba-fazbender · 26 days

Text

HAPPY 5TH ANNIVERSERY TO

CHARLIE THE CURSED PHONE GUY

MAY HE STAY WITH US FOR ANOTHER FIVE AND BEYOND!

and now a special message from the man himself.

"Well, Well, Well... look how far we've come huh? Genuinely, honest... And Truly."

"Five years ago I was made and cursed the world of tumblr with my presence, time sure does fly! I've lost a few friends, but gained plenty more in return!"

"I wouldn't even be here today without them, now granted I'm not gonna name EVERYONE! But I am gonna name a select few and tell you how they've impacted me... AHEM..."

"First and foremost the man the myth and the legend the one who is the reason behind everything, the man where if he didn't exist I wouldn't exist!"

"Henr- ... we all know I don't mean him we're talking about real people."

"If your name isn't listed, it isn't because the mod dosen't care but it's because he's a dumbass and these are the ones that came up at the top of his head when writing this post, totally not a forth wall break."

@directdogman

"The Creator of the DSAF/Dayshift At Freddy's Series Direct Doggo himself, sure okay I was a late edition to the fandom.

but it is fully thanks to DSAF 3 and him that I even exist, what can I say about doggo other then what has been said before one thousand times? He is a man of many skills and many talents."

"He is creative, smart and genuinely an inspiration to everyone in the community of both DSAF and Dialtown... no matter how much time has passed, I will personally continue to respect the man I owe everything to him. So thank you doggo genuinely for your support and your amazing games."

@cook-ie-chip

"One of my oldest friends in the community, I've known you since almost the start! we have alot of memories together, some laughs, some cries! you also created my blue prints

(though in lore they were written by henry and will) let's look past that! You remind me of how things used to be a long time ago, and I'm glad to still know you even now."

"and with any hope I'll curse you for many years more."

@lazy-charlie / @chuck-the-fanboy

"I remember how we met, you found me and we both realized we had the same name, and so I decided to charge you extra for like a pizza party lmao."

"But ever since that day we have only grown closer and closer... to the point your apart of the roomba fazbender family [no you will get no discounts] ..."

"You've done so much for me over the years though, you helped create the Roomba's we have here today, you drew some of our lovely walrus friends!"

"AND ... ough... Okay Okay I'll be honest you made Chuck The Fanboy originally a joke just to tease me with, but over the years he's grown on me... DO NOT LET HIM HEAR ME SAY THIS, but he's like a lil bro... and if anything happened to him I'd be devastated."

@clownsuu / @not-robert

"... well well well if it isn't the shadow in black and the big buff zombie, what can I say about both of you?"

"Hmm... Clownsuu here teases me, has DRAWN ME MPREG, HAS DRAWN ME EMO, IS THE REASON WHY THE EVIL VERSION OF ME EXISTS!..."

"and yet life wouldn't be the same with out him, jack is... an anomaly someone I met because someone thought he was stealing me! HA no one can steal this perfect face~"

"Gotta say though, all jokes aside... life just wouldn't be the same without him, alot more boring you know? I must admit he is someone I will never forget, you've also drawn photos of a few of my walrus I still have hung up in my office, I appreciate you for absolutely everything you've done."

"And don't get me started on Robert that big buff baby, I've put him in just about every costume under the sun, and yet he still puts up with me and stays still no idea why. But it's because of him my restaurant has expanded so much, from a bowling alley, a karaoke bar and dumpsters full of meat."

"Don't tell Robert this he'd likely call me an idiot, but guy's one of my best friends genuinely thankfully he's immortal so I'll never worry about losing him but ... the thought still scares me."

"Never change Robert."

@weirdozjunkary

"You turned me into a furry... I got nothin else to say I just had to point that out."

"..."

"Okay, fine you did alot more then that, you introduced me to bedlam someone who can FINALLY truly be a sponge to my cursed and chaotic behavior, honestly I'd hope so considering he's the god of chaos."

"I only met him recently but I'd fuken fight his version of god for him ... seriously don't tempt me I will kick that old man's ass."

"I'm glad to have bedlam in my life and hope I know him for many years more."

@an-artist-place-for-extra-art

"you simp for the evil version of me I..."

"I have no words for you..."

"I just question... why?"

"though honestly? never change, I care for you just the way you are, your amazing."

"Alright, Alright enough of the mushy stuff and forth wall breaks it's messing with my circuits and servo's ahem..."

"The most important thing about this day is one..."

"I'm so fucking cool"

"two"

"I AM NEVER GOING ANYWHERE HATERS, FIVE MORE YEARS AND BEYOND OF ME!!!"

"and three... and most important lore wise"

"HAPPY 50TH ANNIVERSERY TO ROOMBA FUCKING FAZBENDERS!"

"50 YEARS THIS PLACE HAS BEEN OPEN WITHOUT ANY DEATHS JUST A FEW INJURIES AND I'LL TAKE THAT WITH STRIDE!"

"AS THE ULTIMATE FUCK YOU TO FREDBEAR'S AND FAZBENDER ENTERTAINMENT!"

"THE GUY WHO IS A LITERAL ELDRITCH HORROR AND EATS SHOES WITH HIS BOOTLEG RESTURANT LASTED LONGER THEN ALL OF YOU SUCK IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

"... thank you... genuinely out of pocket with full seriousness..."

"thank you everyone for sticking around none of this would be possible without you, and I HONEST AND TRUELY can't wait for another five amazing years."

Moderator Monnie: And happy anniversary to everyone from me to all of you!

Have a fantastic day! and thank ya'll for reading!

#charlie the phone guy #charlie the cursed phone guy #dsaf #dayshift at freddy's #mod monnie #mod post #important #very important post #Happy Fifth Birthday Charlie!#Happy 5th Anniversary Charlie!#Happy 50th Anniversary Roomba Fazbender's (Lore)#Happy Fiftieth Anniversary Roomba Fazbenders (Lore)#Long post #Very Long Post #forth wall break basically the entire post lol

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thepixelelf · 2 years

Text

and the universe said,

04 “it won't make sense”

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: 18+. language, conversation about sex note: reminder that I don't know these guys <3 I'm just writing characters <3

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

series masterlist

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The oven on the ninth floor of complex 8, in the apartment belonging to two humans whose names were starting to become familiar, was not always an oven. Some years ago, it was sixteen million stars.

It knows the humans who will come through the door one by one, some with mussed hair and bloated cheeks, some with eyes that shine with their own stars, all linked together, are in trouble. It knows that the human in front of it, whose name it almost recalls, who has used it many times, is giving much more work into something than he will receive in return for some time.

The oven tries to warn him. The universe, which the oven knows well, does not make mistakes. However, the universe presides over pain just the same as it does over love, and the oven, which was once sixteen million stars, beeps to warn him as such.

⭒

"Your timer's up," Wonwoo informs, though Mingyu can hear it just as well as he can.

Mingyu just frowns, confusion writing itself on his features as he pauses rinsing the vegetables in the sink to look at the oven. "I didn't set a timer though…"

Wonwoo shrugs. "Must be broken."

⭒

[vernon] anyone who wants free food come to mingyu and wonwoos apt

[wonwoo] please [wonwoo] the fridge is so full

[mingyu] it’s not for you heathens!!

[wonwoo] I can’t even sit at the table to eat anymore there’s so much food

[soonyoung] free food 👀

[chan] on my way

[junhui] 🏃‍♂️💨

[myungho] i’ll come too [myungho] mingyu’s food is always good

[mingyu] thank you! [mingyu] it’s still not for you tho!!!

[vernon] mingyu somethings burning

[mingyu] OHG FUV

Eyes only half open, Seungcheol holds his phone over his face while he blinks himself awake. It’s one of those days where he can actually sleep in for once, and maybe he could use the rest — he hasn’t been sleeping too peacefully since this whole mystery soulmate idea sprouted up — but he mulls over the texts, the last one sent only nine minutes ago. Burned free food is still free food.

He opens Wonwoo and Mingyu’s apartment door to be blasted with a maelstrom of scents, savory and sweet, and he doesn’t even acknowledge the others while he finds himself a pair of chopsticks and picks up a piece of pork from an ornately dressed dish.

Mingyu smacks his hand, which doesn’t make him drop anything because when it comes to food, Seungcheol is no pushover, but he does pause and give Mingyu a questioning, dirty look. He opens his mouth to ask what Mingyu’s problem is — there are dishes covering every inch of the kitchen island, enough to feed a small army or maybe half the group — but Chan cuts in and says, “You look like a zombie.”

And then he’s the one on the receiving end of Seungcheol’s death glare.

Seungcheol realizes then that the rest of the guys in the apartment are just sitting or standing around, no utensils in hand and no servings of any of the various dishes in front of them. Mingyu pries the chopsticks out of Seungcheol’s hand while he observes the room, then returns to the stove to cook more food that apparently isn’t for eating. Wonwoo stands on the opposite end of the kitchen, leaning against a wall with an unimpressed nonchalance as he watches Mingyu flit around between burners and cutting boards. Soonyoung and Vernon are sitting together at the island, looking at something on Soonyoung’s phone and discussing whatever that is. Minghao, Jun, and Chan sit at the table, which is just as piled with food. None of them touch it, though.

Turning back to Mingyu, Seungcheol has to ask, “What is happening right now?”

“Cooking for my soulmate,” Mingyu answers. Like it’s that simple.

“Oh, okay.” Then he blinks. “Wait, what?”

Mingyu’s eyes and hands don’t stray from his current task. He simply repeats himself like Seungcheol didn’t hear him. “I’m cooking for my soulmate.”

Seungcheol did hear him the first time, though. It’s just that what he said made absolutely no sense. “You don’t… We don’t— You haven’t even met them.”

“Only a matter of time,” Mingyu says with a shrug while he tosses some sliced mushrooms in a pot.

Seungcheol looks around, a desperate plea to find out if he’s the only sane one in the room, but Soonyoung and Vernon’s eyes are glued to that phone, and the guys at the table avoid Seungcheol’s exasperation, Chan curling his lips between his teeth before he turns to stare into some corner. Wonwoo is the only one who meets his eyes.

“I’ve been trying to tell him,” he says, nudging his glasses up his face.

“Hyung,” Vernon chimes in, looking over at Mingyu. “What if the food goes bad before they can eat it?”

For the first time, Mingyu pauses, like the thought just now reached his brain and he needs a second to process it. His brow furrows, and he frowns, eyes roaming over all the food he’s left on every flat surface in the kitchen and dining area. “Practice…” he mutters. “It’s practice, then. Gotta make sure it’s perfect for them.”

Chan perks up. “We can be your taste testers. Y’know, to make sure it’s perfect.”

“Once you meet them, you should make fresh food,” Jun adds.

Mingyu nods along, eyes widening, and he hurriedly gestures his hands towards the food.

The boys dig in.

Partway through his second bowl, Seungcheol has half the mind to think he should save some food for the vocal unit, who can’t indulge in Mingyu’s cooking because they’re at that radio show thing. There’s more than enough for them to eat for lunch. His eyes roam the table, wondering which dishes would be best for reheating when he hears, “Do you think our soulmate will be more into silver, or gold?”

Seungcheol looks over at Chan, who has a spoon in one hand, mindlessly lifting food to his mouth, and his phone in the other as he scrolls through it. “These gold ones are so pretty,” Chan mutters to himself. “But silver is more classy…”

Mouth dropping slightly, Seungcheol gapes at Chan. “You’re not— you’re not buying a ring, are you?”

Chan snorts, a chuckle rumbling from his throat as he shares a cheeky glance with Jun across the table. “Obviously not.”

Seungcheol hadn’t even realized he’d tensed up, but he lets himself relax with an exhale. Okay. Good. Maybe he was just overthinking—

“I don’t know their ring size yet,” Chan shoots down Seungcheol’s hopes like they never stood a chance in the first place. “I’m just browsing designs.”

Lost, Seungcheol can only stammer. “You— They— It’s not…”

Vernon stands from his seat to walk over to Chan and puts one hand on the table so he can lean over his shoulder. He points at something on Chan’s phone. “I like that one.”

“Right?” Chan looks up at Vernon. “For a second I was like, hm, but the more I look at it, the more I like it. Ooh, wait, look at this one…”

Maybe Seungcheol should get his ears and eyes checked, or comb through the food to see if there are any shrooms in it, because, surely, this is a hallucination. Once again, he looks at the other members for any sign of intelligent life, but Jun seems to be listening intently to Chan’s opinions on teardrop-cut gems, and while Minghao isn’t actively participating in the conversation yet, he avoids Seungcheol’s cry-for-help eyes anyway. Soonyoung and Mingyu completely ignore him, Soonyoung still engrossed with his phone and Mingyu with his cooking. And the killing blow, Wonwoo’s got his airpods in, watching some gaming stream while he eats and effectively dead to the rest of the world.

“I read that soulmates share a lot of similar tastes, regardless of differences in personality,” Minghao tells Chan, who looks up and nods at the new, helpful information.

He tilts his head after a second, though. “But there are thirteen of us…”

Jun holds his hands open in front of his face. “They only have ten fingers,” he mumbles under his breath. With a determined huff, he crosses his arms and leans forward on the table, fixing Chan with a serious look. “I wanna choose the ring.”

“Guys…” Seungcheol tries to say, but he can’t think of what words to follow up with.

“I saw somewhere that the pull is strengthened by touch,” Vernon says, unhelpful to Seungcheol’s silent cause.

Minghao frowns up at him. “I thought it soothed the pull?”

“Either way—” Mingyu calls over from the kitchen, stirring something in a pan. “I bet their hugs are the best.”

More than a few hopeful smiles appear at that.

Soonyoung finally sits up straighter and lowers his phone to the countertop. “I heard the sex is like—” He brings both hands up to his temples in fists, then mimics the sound of an explosion low in his throat and flexes his fingers out.

There’s the slightest hint of pink starting to blush on Chan’s cheeks, but his eyes glimmer as he goes, “Really?”

Soonyoung smiles wide and nods. “Some guy said it was like he took six different aphrodisiacs at once.”

“Whoa…” Vernon breathes out.

“I know, right!” Soonyoung is admittedly as playful and cheery as he usually is, just for reasons Seungcheol can’t quite wrap his head around. “I bet—” He gasps, loudly, mouth wide open as he covers it with a dramatic hand. “Oh my god. What if I cum early?? What if I cum so hard I die?!”

The cringe that takes over Seungcheol is so strong that he grimaces with his whole face and drops his chopsticks. His appetite just pulled a Houdini. “What the fuck, Soonyoung. The last thing I wanna hear while I'm eating is anything about your…” He can’t even say it.

Minghao, at least, seems to hold the same opinion, scrunching his nose and slowly pushing his plate away from him. Worryingly though, Chan seems to furrow his eyebrows, staring at a point in front of him while he considers his own — eugh — stamina.

“Look, guys.” Seungcheol figures he should set things straight. “We’re under clear instructions to not even look for this person—”

“Soulmate,” Jun corrects.

“Sure, whatever. We’re not supposed to search for them. Plus, these marks are vague as hell. They barely ever sing and when they do, it doesn’t even give us any useful information on them anyhow.” Seungcheol doesn’t let himself be swayed by the discouraged faces his words cause. “The company told us not to look for them, and the odds of them randomly running into us is low enough that you—” He looks at Chan. “—should absolutely not be ring shopping, and this idiot—” He points over at Mingyu. “—shouldn’t be wasting food on someone who isn’t here to eat it. And we should all calm down because, seriously, do you guys all believe one hundred percent that this whole soulmate thing is real?”

His final word plunges the apartment into silence, everyone except Wonwoo (who's still engrossed in his nerd shit) staring at Seungcheol with blank expressions. For a good few seconds, no one says anything, but then Minghao turns away from Seungcheol and twists a bit to face Chan. He speaks quietly, a clear exclusion effect to the newfound outsider Seungcheol is starting to feel like.

“I want a say on the ring, too.”

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updates for and the universe said, are not on a schedule. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

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