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#hells more brain rot as promised
aelswiths · 2 years
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+ Bonus: Featuring, Literally Tom
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Party Rock Anthem by LMFAO
Part 2/? (1)
Collab with @aethelreds
Dedicated to @volvaaslaug
For @tlkafterparty, prompts: inspired by song lyrics
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narwhalcasserole · 1 year
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oh if only I could find a heinously rich partner who would lavish me with endless supplies of money so I could do important things, like travel, go back to school, donate to charities............
AND THROW IT AT THE GODD*MN STUDIO THAT STOLE MY LIFE FROM ME AND GET ME MY TURTLES BACK
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
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Eddie can hear from Steve's breathing that he's sleeping deeply and he's wondering how the hell he can possibly be asleep right now. His own mind is spinning and he kinda feels like he might throw up soon. Steve went to sleep with his back to Eddie and now Eddie can do nothing but stare at his silhouette in the dark.
He doesn't really understand what happened: they had this big fight and the word slipped out of his mouth before he even realized it did. The one word he had promised Steve to never say to him. And then Steve stormed out and Eddie just fucking stood there, unable to move and nauseous as hell, tears prickling behind his eyes. By the time his brain started working again and he realized he should probably go look for Steve, he could already have gone anywhere.
Half an agonizing hour later he returned; Eddie didn't give a shit about their stupid fight anymore and tried to apologize, but Steve... wouldn't let him. I know you didn't mean it like that, was all he said. It's okay, but I'm really exhausted, so let's go to bed first and talk about it in the morning.
The worst part is that he doesn't know what he should prepare himself for. Steve has never done anything like this before, but Eddie sure as hell recognizes the signs: waving him off, attempting to make him feel safe, so he'll let his guard down and then it'll all come crashing down on him. He can hear his mother's voice again, so clearly that she might as well be standing right at his bedside:
No, of course I'm not mad at you, Eddie. You couldn't help it, it's not your fault.
Have you already forgotten about what you've done, Eddie? Looks like I have to punish you after all.
The worst one had been after his dad got locked up, five whole years of jailtime ahead of him. He had never been behind bars for more than a couple months on end before. And Eddie had been with him when it happened. No, worse: he had run away.
You couldn't help it, Eddie, you were scared, and you couldn't have gotten him out of it anyway.
He had been grateful for his mom's understanding words, had finally lowered his guard when she even made him a hot cocoa before bed. It only took one restless night of sleep until he'd find out what she really thought about him: a coward, a sissy, someone who didn't know what loyalty was. Didn't he love his father? Would he like to see his own dad rot in jail? She was often cruel with her words, but the times she was cruel with her hands were a rarity.
Eddie had never viewed Steve as being anything like his mother, but with yesterday's events in his mind and Steve unreachable on the other side of the bed, he supposes it's more than justified. However shit will go down tomorrow morning, he will most certainly deserve it.
------
He must've somehow drifted off in the early hours before morning, because he wakes up to light pouring through the windows and - an empty space on Steve's side of the bed.
He quietly slips out from under the blankets and tiptoes to the door, but when he peers around the corner, he finds the living room empty. Upon further inspection, the kitchen and the bathroom both turn out to be abandoned as well. Steve's nowhere to be seen. A new wave of nausea washes over Eddie when he realizes that things must be even worse than he was expecting.
He remembers those times, too: the times when his mother would disappear, sometimes for a couple hours, sometimes for days on end. When he was little, he'd get hungry. As he grew older and learned to take care of himself, he'd only get scared. When she'd finally get back, she'd tell him that he shouldn't be so dramatic, that surely she'd told him where she was off to and for how long she'd be gone. Sometimes, she'd even tell him that no, she hadn't been away for three days, she had only gone to the store, what the hell was he talking about?
When the realization hits him that Steve might never come back - the same realization that used to cause the paralyzing fear whenever his mom disappeared - it becomes difficult to breathe. He staggers and stumbles into the bedroom, where he starts randomly pulling the doors of their closets and dresser drawers open in a desperate attempt to see if all of Steve's clothes are still there. His polos are hanging in a neat row in the closet, and his underwear dresser is filled just fine. His toothbrush is still in the bathroom, just like his shaving cream and his medication: that should be enough confirmation that at least he'll come back but maybe that's exactly what he wants Eddie to think and he can't breathe anymore and -
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A good night's sleep and a morning run are the perfect cure for just about everything, if you ask Steve. He comes home all sweaty and short of breath, but feeling better than he has in days. His head is clear and yesterday's fight suddenly seems almost insignificant. He opens the door, ready to make some coffee and finally properly talk with Eddie, who was still fast asleep when he left the house two hours ago.
But when he calls out a "Hi, babe!" the apartment stays eerily quiet. There's no trace of Eddie in the kitchen, nor in the living room, and Steve wonders if maybe he has gone out to get some snacks. He shrugs and walks into the bedroom to take off his sweaty sports clothes - and chuckles quietly to himself when he sees the mop of dark curls above the blanket.
'Eddie, it's almost noon, man,' he says while walking up to the bed. It's only then that he notices that all their drawers and closets are opened, as if Eddie had been frantically searching for something.
'Have you been sleepwalking again?'
He goes to sit down on the bed, right next to the lump of the blanket that is Eddie's sleeping body. When Eddie still doesn't move, Steve gently combs a hand over the curls and then pulls back the blanket.
'Hey there.'
He traces a thumb over Eddie's cheek, which finally causes him to jolt up. Steve immediately clocks that there's a look on his face that can only be described as concerning: something frantic and fearful is radiating from those big brown eyes he knows so well.
'You came back,' Eddie sighs out when he sees it's Steve who woke him.
Steve frowns. 'Of course I came back. Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?'
'How long were you -'
There are tears in Eddie's eyes now, and he looks more scared than Steve has seen him look in years.
'Oh, baby, it's okay, I'm here,' he says, opening his arms to catch Eddie in an embrace. 'I was only gone on a run. Yesterday was pretty intense, remember? So I wanted to clear my head while you were sleeping in. I've only been away for two hours or so.'
Eddie slumps heavily against Steve's chest; his whole body is trembling like a leaf.
'What happened, baby?'
'What day is it?'
'Jesus, Eddie, you're scaring me. It's Saturday.'
Eddie lifts up his head; his cheeks are red and puffy and wet.
'Saturday?' Eddie repeats, voice sharp and frantic again. 'Is that true? Are you telling the truth?'
'Yes, what's going on, Eddie? Why would I - oh.' He doesn't need to finish that question to understand exactly what's happening, and he quietly curses himself for being so blind to it. 'Oh, fuck, Eddie, I didn't mean to - I'm so sorry.'
Not giving a shit about his sweaty sports clothes, he pushes Eddie a little bit to make space and crawls under the blanket beside him. He pulls him in his arms, cradling his head with his hand, and keeps repeating sweet-nothings like I'm here and I'm not going anywhere and I love you and I'm sorry for scaring you until Eddie has finally stopped trembling and his breathing is back to normal again.
'You're here,' Eddie finally says. His voice is creaky in a way that's breaking Steve's heart.
Steve leans forward to press a kiss against his temple.
'I'm here,' he repeats. 'And I promise you I would never do anything like the shit your mother used to pull, alright?'
'Watch out with that,' Eddie says. 'I also promised to never call you bullshit.'
Steve utters a sound that's somewhere between a sniff and a huff. 'Was that - a joke? Did you seriously just go from full breakdown to cracking jokes?'
Eddie hums something unintelligible and lets his eyes fall close while he nestles himself into a more comfortable position in Steve's arms.
'Why did you think I would ever do something like your mom?' Steve's question is almost a whisper.
Eddie sighs deeply. 'Because yesterday,' he says, burying his head against Steve's chest. 'It was too easy. You should've been mad, but you forgave me right away. And then you went to sleep with your back towards me and I - I had the whole night to spiral further about it. And then I woke up and you weren't there and - I dunno, my head was running wild, man.'
Too easy. That's exactly what it feels like, sometimes, with Eddie. To hear him say bullshit and know he doesn't do it to intentionally hurt him. To have a fight and know that they still love each other through it all. To come home in the apartment they share and have coffee together every day. It's too easy, too good to be true. Not something either of them ever thought they could have with someone. But they do. Even if they both take their damaged hearts with them. Even if they've both been raised on cruelty instead of love. Maybe it's not too easy after all; maybe they simply need to learn the difference between easy and too easy. Maybe easy is exactly what they deserve to share with each other.
Steve brushes some stray hairs out of Eddie's face. His cheeks are still swollen and his eyes are red. And it's never been easier to love him.
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strwbmei · 5 months
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Kinktober : BONUS LEVEL.
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summary: in the midst of the crowded costume party; stelle needs you— and she needs you now.
contains: modern!au, college!au, female reader, mentioned alcohol usage, pet play sort of(?), stelle is referred to as a dog and she has a collar, transfem!stelle, stelle is taller, mentions of drugs, semi-public sex, creampie, power bottom reader, choking, unprotected sex, non-consensual creampie, stelle is a bit pathetic
pairing(s): pre-established stelle x reader
a/n: It's a bit late considering this was for Halloween, but this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long...
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NSFW below the cut !
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"Baby..." Stelle whined, looking down at you with those amber-hued puppy eyes she knew you couldn't possibly refuse. Not for long, at least. "Need you s'bad... Please?" The taller woman clung to your arm, tugging on your sleeve like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.
After the two of you received an invitation to a quote-unquote, "small Halloween costume party" from a mutual acquaintance, you decided to go as the werewolf and little Red Riding Hood.
It was a great idea— the costumes worked well individually, but if someone saw both of you together, it'd be obvious that the two of you were a couple, though that was mostly because you were literally holding her on a leash that was attached to the collar her costume came with.
What wasn't a great idea, however, was going to the party in the first place. Within not even half an hour, the place reeked with the stench of vomit and cheap alcohol, and the second-rate Halloween decorations that were obviously only added as an afterthought were presumably torn off the walls by drunks.
Also, unlike the person who invited you two had said, the party was not small at all. The place was filled to the brim with couples and stoners; the only reason you two still stayed was because it'd be a waste to not use the costumes you already bought. They weren't really expensive, per se, but both of you were broke college students. You were going to make the most out of the $40 you spent on these costumes.
"Stelle, you can't just-" You inhaled, taking in a deep breath as you halt your words. "We're in public. I'm sorry, baby, but you can wait until we get home, hm?" You took her hands into your own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm. The size difference was almost laughable.
Stelle heaved a dejected sigh, but you knew she hadn't given up quite yet. She was never one to be good with words— but she sure as hell was good at expressing her thoughts with her actions.
Which is probably why you can feel something hard and lengthy rubbing against your thigh as she wraps her arms protectively around your small frame. "Please. I'll make you feel so good, I promise..." She murmurs into your neck.
Well... it's not like you can just leave Stelle with a raging boner, right? Especially when you're what caused it in the first place. Right. You're just doing what any responsible girlfriend would do.
Though, you weren't aware that that included frantically unzipping her pants in god-knows-who's room as music blared from the cheap speakers downstairs.
"Wai- mmph..!" Stelle quickly put a hand over her mouth, stifling a moan as you hurriedly wrapped your lips around her cock. Though muffled, the sounds she made were more than audible.
Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her hands gripping your shoulders with a force that fluctuated between one of considerate eagerness and selfish desperation for her own pleasure— all telltale signs that she was going to cum soon, and you've grown all too familiar with them.
Though Stelle never could last long, the number of rounds she could go for was inhuman. Well, at least her ungodly amount of stamina is one thing about a werewolf that was even remotely similar to her.
As your head bobbed faster and faster in pace, her whimpers and moans grew louder and higher in pitch. With a strangled gasp, ropes of her warm semen flooded down your throat. Your mouth was pressed to her abdomen, swallowing every drop she had to offer.
"H-haah...~" The taller woman looked down at you with further aching need; cock still standing proud with a similar yearning. "Really, babe?" You sighed. A couple getting caught having sex in a party wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, and although normally people wouldn't care, it'd stain your pride.
Just as you were about to start jerking her off, she grabbed your hand by your wrist. "Wanna be inside you. Can I? I've been good..." She frowns; again, looking at you with those eyes.
First, she claimed that she'd make you feel good, only to settle for you sucking her off; second, does she really think she's been good? You wouldn't be in this situation if that were true in the first place. Liar.
However, you reckon you could give her a chance to prove herself...
Next thing you know, you're getting railed on the floor, barely able to keep yourself from falling over as Stelle rutted her hips into you. "W-wait, ah..!" You moaned. You didn't know what made Stelle so uncharacteristically... desperate, as if she were a dog in heat.
Maybe it was your costume? No, it looked good— but certainly not that good. And it wasn't revealing in the least, even the skirt was below knees length. Perhaps she was just too drunk? That's not it, either. Stelle has been drunk many times before and she's never acted like this.
Oh. The collar.
"Goddamit, Stelle...!" You huffed out in a hushed voice with all of the anger you could muster up. Everybody knows you can't ever stay mad at her, no matter what she does. Just like a cute puppy getting caught making a mess, Stelle only whines at your words; one hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds while the other kneaded at your breasts.
You pull her into a sloppy, hot kiss by her collar, the pace and strength of her thrusts unwavering. She whimpers into your mouth, swallowing all of your moans as she practically pounds you into the floor. Her cock was on the thicker side, rubbing perfectly against your walls while her tip kissed your cervix.
"Shit, so... tight...!" Stelle breaks out of your grip with little to no effort, hands needily grabbing and massaging at your tits. You tried to tell her to pull out, but you couldn't get any words out of your mouth through your moans. She mumbled a string of curses and apologies like a sinner begging for forgiveness. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum inside!"
With a choked moan, she held your hips down as you felt her warm cum fill you up. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pulls out of you, breathlessly pressing kisses on your inner thighs and apologizing. Though, seeing her cum leak out of you when she pressed down slightly on your stomach has her vigor returning tenfold...
Fuck it. She's cum inside of you already, what's the harm in two, maybe three more times? The night is young, after all.
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╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @yelanrambles , @the-night-owl-blr
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erosuguru · 10 months
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Trying my hand at angst, I don't like this but here you go fjsjfdj
Gojo misses reader and is a mitski fan here, sfw, 1.6k words
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Satoru knew he was clingy, he knows he can be overbearing with you at times and you've constantly reassured him that it's one of the many qualities you like about him; you even called it cute and compared him to a lost kitten. However, the longer you're gone, the more stressed he gets, thoughts of worry plague his head if they go unanswered for too long—how you are doing? Is everything going smoothly? Did you eat a full proper meal? Are you sleeping well? He never had to worry for long because he would get an answer the next time he sees you, which would usually be the next few hours or the next day.
When you told him about a trip you had to take out of town to visit family and stay with them for a while, he only smiled and helped you pack as anxiety rattled in his chest— as if trying to bring your attention to it. he chooses to remain silent about his worries even after you tell him you'll be gone for over a week, even if every bone in his body is telling him to trap you in his arms and beg you to stay.
Clingliness be damned, he loved you too much to remain separated from you for over a week, let alone a day.
Dread crept at the back of his mind as you explained your trip, why you were going and when will you leave and return, the entire time Satoru tried to listen his mind would wander and begin to memorise your features as you spoke— the shape of your lips, the crinkle in your eyelids, the structure of your nose, god, did he tell you look beautiful? He couldn't recall if he did today.
".. so don't expect fast replies, okay?"
The dumbfounded expression quickly took over Satoru's features as he sat up, he remembered he mentioned he would call or text you if he gets lonely but after that his brain tuned out his surroundings as if preparing itself for a week of loneliness.
".. repeat that for me, Baby? Please?"
"I said the service is pretty bad at my grandparent's place, so don't expect fast replies."
Ah. He was in hell. He had to watch and help you pack, pretend as if this didn't bother him so you wouldn't cancel for his sake, he even saw you off and kept his goodbye short; a simple kiss, hug and a promise for you to stay safe and call him if anything happens. He would have been proud of himself had he not known how lonely the house would be without you.
For the first three days, the phrase "its just under two weeks" became a mantra Satoru would mutter to himself— from the moment he opens his eyes in the morning feeling the empty space next to him, the phrase is echoed in his head. He made the mistake of preparing two cups of coffee in the beginning forgetting you were off with family, that simple mistake triggers a domino effect; it causes him to remember to contact you, he checks his phone and finds messages sent from you in the wrong order, courtesy of terrible service.
Leaving the house did nothing to alleviate the anxieties floating in his mind about you, whenever he passes by a cafe he has to purchase your favorite item off the menu, this time he had to stop himself and double back from the door remembering the meal would rot away in the fridge before your return. Spotting anything remotely related to your interests activates a knee-jerk reaction where he turns to gesture and mention it to you, looking for the spark that would light up your features in excitement— but alas, you were not here.
The days were longer, the nights were colder, Satoru's love blooms whenever he's near you, and yet now that he's alone, his heart is heavy; an overgrown garden.
The week was over. It was finally over, and yet the torture continued. You specifically told him you'd be gone for over a week— he once again repeats to himself "just under two weeks.." Satoru feels tired, and he doesn't know why. Through his meals and activities throughout the days, he would usually share them with you. He wonders if you felt the same exhaustion.
Just as his eyelids began to weigh down from the exhaustion, his phone released melodious chimes. Satoru grunted in annoyance and sat up in the cold bed, tempted to crush the phone in his hand— was he not even allowed to dream of you?
'LOML💘 Calling...'
His heart soared to his throat, everything he wanted to say to you, threatening to spill out before he even tapped the green button. He hurriedly answered and brought the phone up to his ear.
"Hello? Satoru?"
"... Baby? Can you hear me?" He immediately wanted to make sure of the call's quality. He won't be swindled by fate.
"Oh, thank god- I've been trying to get a hold of you all week! How are you? Is everything okay? I'm so sorry I couldn't contact you." He could hear chatter in the back. "I'm with my cousin. We drove out to this convenience store, and the service is pretty good!— I mean, yeah, it's a little far, but..." You took a breath, speaking too quickly for your lungs to handle."I'm so happy I get to hear your voice, Satoru..!"
everything he wanted to say, you were saying it for him, Satoru knows he's clingy but when you return his clingliness it makes him believe that he was made for you— that he was truly loved by you.
Suddenly, the stress he felt from worrying about you, the overbearing silence of loneliness, your affections pouring to him through the phone, all of these factors shattered him; a sob choked him.
".. yeah - me too..!" Satoru hiccuped as he tried to wipe away forming tears. He can't be upset now. He has to be tough for you.
You didn't miss the sniffle that followed, setting your soda down in the cup holder of the car. You sat up briefly. "Honey? What's wrong?" Your cousin silently signalled they'll return into the store, not wanting to overhear a lover's quarrel. "Did something happen?"
Satoru shook his head, forgetting you couldn't see him. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. "No - no, I'm fine.. I'm just really happy to hear from you."
Silence filled the call, a moment ago he was preparing himself to yell at you, cry to you, beg you to come home— now he didn't know what to do with himself as he had everything he wanted listening to him on the other end.
"... Hon? I'm really sorry." He hated how you knew just what to say when he began to crack. "I love you, I promise I'll be home soon, okay?"
You love him. You love him. He felt guily; he finally had a chance to speak with you, and he cried and made you feel like the bad guy, made you apologize for wanting to spend quality time with family, does he even deserve you at this point?
"... okay." Is all he can muster, Satoru always sounds so full of life— but now he just sounds defeated, as if faced with a foe that he couldn't damage or evade whatsoever. It broke your heart.
Satoru traced shapes into the covers that he practically kicked off him when he saw your nickname flash on his phone screen, he began. "Baby?"
"Hm? Yeah?"
".. when you get home, I'm gonna be more selfish with you." His tone was serious. He couldn't help but smile when he heard you laugh. "You're already selfish with me!"
"Hey, I've been very emotionally vulnerable recently, okay?" Satoru felt like the usual dynamic of your conversations is slowly seeping back. It felt right, like finding something he thought he misplaced.
"I'm not complaining, hon. I actually love it." He heard you shuffle a bit. "I think you deserve to be a little selfish. You've been so good for me lately, haven't you?"
Of course, he should've expected this from you; you're his smart girl. Of course you would notice how strained he seemed before you went on your trip.
"I thought I hid it pretty well.."
"Satoru."
".. what?" He grew wary of your unimpressed tone. He didn't slip up, did he?
"You were listening to Mitski all week." Ah, your shared music subscription gave him away.
"She perfectly puts my emotions into words, okay? So sue me!"
"I know, hon! But you were listening to First Love / Late Spring. What was I supposed to think?"
The conversation continues, from Lyricism to current routines to favourite cafe desserts. For the first time in a week, Satoru felt safe and comfortable enough to sleep.
Your conversation lulled him to a sleepy state, he could hear you shuffle and move about, he could hear the car start, your family commenting on your dynamic with him, even if the sound was minimised as the phone speaker was only moderately audible, as long as he could hear your voice then he was happy.
"So, either Wednesday or Tuesday..?" Satoru asked groggily after you explained your situation.
"Yeah - I'm hoping Tuesday, but we don't know yet, I'll drive back to the convenience store and tell you once I know." It sounded like a joke, but he knows you would do it.
"Baby- no, I can wait, I swear—"
"Can you, though?" He could hear the smile in your voice, Satoru let out a breathless laugh.
"... nah, I don't think I can."
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baby-tini · 21 days
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GOD THAT FUCKING GROWL, Dabi knows what the hell he's doing, god just imagine this beautiful man growling in your ear to, "stay the fuck put doll, don't run from me." While he gives you the meanest backshots of your life.
"Come on baby.. give me one more, promise just one more.." He's a liar, it's never just one more with Dabi.
But he's such an asshole and when you don't listen, he's forced to pull you back towards him by your hair as he grabs your chin, forcing your lips into a pout as he stares you down with those intense blue eyes of his... the Dabi brain rot is bad 😩
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teddyeyeseddie · 10 months
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Devil Horns & Mary Jane
Virgin!Eddie X Reader
(a/n hiiiii long time no see! Its been awhile but i am so glad to be back and bee bopping around brain rot city with @lofaewrites ! boy have i been cooking up some stuff in the kitchen for you guys! here’s my attempt at willing summer away, i mean it's practically halloween, right?)
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“For the last time I am not driving you to some haunted woods all the way in bum-fuck Indiana,” Eddie shouts, settling in on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. 
“Eddie, please,” Dustin begs, plopping down beside him, grabbing onto Eddie’s shoulder and shaking it. 
“Yeah, please Eddie. You promised you would take us to a haunted house this year!” Mike chimes in, pleading eyes looking down at Eddie. 
“I promised I would take you but I’m not taking you tonight, I have plans,” he motions to the TV in front of him, some horror film playing at a low volume. 
“Now shoo-'' Dustin's hand comes to shush Eddie, pointer finger smushed to Eddie’s pink lips. 
“I’ll tell them about what's under--'' It's Eddie’s turn to shush Dustin, his whole hand quick to cover Dustin’s mouth.
“Enough of that. Alright kids, load up,” Dusting snickers as he follows Eddie and his friends out of the trailer. 
The kids all pile in his van, Dustin settling in the front seat. Eddie’s hand smacks his as he attempts to change the radio, turning it back to his usual rock station.
The drive takes them out of town to a more rural area, the haunted woods and corn maze stretching for several acres. Eddie parks the Van, boots crunching in gravel as he steps out of the vehicle. He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket, withdrawing a pack of camels. He lights one, taking several drags before stopping under a tree. 
“I’ll be waiting here for you guys,” he sends the group a salute as he leans up against the trunk. 
“Nope, you’re coming,” Max states bluntly, walking towards him and plucking the cigarette from his pursed lips before stomping on it. 
“Oof, alright,” Eddie raises his eyebrows before begrudgingly following the group toward the entrance of the haunted woods. 
“Beware!!” A badly dressed clown screams on Eddie’s right, causing Dustin to jump. 
“Oh this is going to be so epic,” Dustin says as he bumps into Eddie. He shrugs him off and straightens out his shoulders. 
The group pushes its way through a badly shredded sheet that is covered in fake blood, Eddie chuckles nervously to himself before entering through the “Gates of Hell”.
They walk for a bit through the woods, witches and zombies popping out periodically to try and get a rise out of the group. Eddie usually sees it coming, but still jumping at the inevitable scare. 
They make it to a small cabin in the middle of the woods, glass windows broken, Cobwebs stretching across the porch, the whole nine yards. Eddie ducks into the small doorway, being the first of his group to make the journey inside. He feels it out once he is in, the strobing lights making his head spin as he tries to make his way forward. 
Dustin follows in shortly after, putting his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, causing Eddie to jump. He shakes his head, hair tossing back in Dustin’s face. The group trudges forward, making it halfway through the house with no scares. Eddie is pretty sure the house is vacant of haunt employees. He begins to relax, shrugging Dustin’s hands off his shoulders as he makes his way through the house. 
He makes it to the bathroom where a bathtub sits. He begins to notice bubbles forming in the tub, getting closer to investigate despite his judgment. When he is standing over the tub, something jumps out, right in Eddie’s face. Eddie is quick to squeal, hands taking position before punching in front of him at the mass that just emerged from the bathtub. 
“Fuck-ow ow ow,” he pulls his hand back, shaking it out before realizing what just happened. 
He punched someone. 
He punched an employee. 
He rushes back to the tub, his hands coming to pull the workers mask off to reveal a doe eyed girl with the bloodiest of noses. 
“Shit shit shit. I am so sorry,” He grabs the bandana that is stuck in his back pocket and presses it to your nose. 
You let yourself be held up by Eddie as he walks you through the rest of the house, your mind is so fuzzy you’re not really sure what is going on.
He shakes your shoulder once you make it outside, looking down at you, his face illuminated by the residual strobing lights bleeding through the panes of the broken windows. 
He’s pretty, bangs disheveled and sticking to his forehead, leather jacket broadening his shoulders, pink tongue poking out from between his plump lips.
“Hey, Hey c'mon l-look at me,” he says from above you, your eyes finally focused on his, a grimace forming on your face as you come to.
“Did you punch me?” you question, hand finally coming to rub under your nose, blood painting your fingers. His hand comes to rub at the back of his neck, a shy smile forming on his face as he does so. 
“Yes?” he almost questions, “But, I am so so sorry, I did not expect someone to pop out of there. I’ve never even been to a haunted house before, I just say I like them so my friends don’t think I’m lame. I’m actually really terrified of them? I’ve never even punched someone before, not even when I got beat up in midd-”
“Eddie! For god’s sake let Y/N breathe,” Dustin groans, “Hi, Y/N. Are you okay?” He questions, coming to kneel beside you. 
“Yeah Dusty, I’m ok,” you say, smiling at him. 
“Y/N? Dusty?” Eddie asks, confused. 
“Y/N is my neighbor, it’s how I heard about the haunted woods in the first place,” Dustin reveals, holding his hand out to you in order to help you off the porch steps.
Eddie reaches his arm out, offering it to you. You take it, looping your arm in his as you walk down the hill and towards the exit of the haunted woods.
The two of you make small talk as you walk down, Eddie even lighting a cigarette and offering it to you. You decide fuck it after the night you’ve had and take several drags before giving it back to Eddie. 
“I really am so sorry I punched you,” Eddie says as he looks down at you, “I-I dont like hit women or anything like that, I didn’t even know you were a woman. Just like a mass of moss or something gross like th-” 
“EDDIE!”  you shout playfully, “Stop with the nervous rambling, it's fine! My nose isn’t broken and you got me out of work for the night,” 
“Seriously? No “I’m gonna press charges”? You do know who I am right? Half the town wants to see me in jail,”  he states bluntly.
“You’re a dork,” you say with a shrug, “I don’t think you’d survive in jail so I decided to spare you,” 
“Okay, ouch. I am not a dork,” Eddie defends, eyes trained forward as he walks with you.
“What do you do in your free time?”
“Play D&D, read, write music, watch horror films,” he states obviously.
“See, dork,” you bump your hip with his, smiling as you do so. Eddie meets your smile with a frown, his eyebrow furrowing as he looks at you. 
“Hey, c'mon you punched me in the face. I can say you’re a dork. Plus, I never said being a dork was a bad thing,” you reveal, arm unlocking from his as you approach a trailer that served as your bosses office. He was understanding as to what happened but had to understandingly ban Eddie from the haunted woods for the foreseeable future.
Eddie shrugs his shoulders at the news, stepping out of the trailer with you.
“It’s better than spending a night in jail,” Eddie says, digging in his pocket for his keys. 
“C’mon kids, load up,” Eddie shouts before turning back towards you. 
“Do you need a ride?” Eddie questions as he shoves his thumb towards his van.
You shake your head, pulling his bandana away from your nose. 
“Nah I got it, I’ll see you around?” you ask, “Gotta clean this up and give it to you somehow,”
“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” Eddie responds. He gives you a small wave before retreating to his van. 
Eddie slides into the driver’s seat of the van, starting it up and peeling out of the gravel lot. 
“Dude- I can’t believe you punched her,” Dustin yells over the music. 
“Shut up, Dusty,” Eddie sneers. 
“And your hopeless attempt at flirting with her, oh my god you were so bad dude!” Dustin laughs at Eddie, his heart breaking a little bit at his words. 
Dustin was right. Eddie was hopeless when it came to women. His attempt at flirting tonight simply bleeding into embarrassing stories about himself. He was sure he blew it, no he was certain he had blown it. You can’t punch a pretty girl in the face and expect anything to go anywhere after that. 
Eddie goes home that night, kicking himself mentally for how the evening went.  He wishes he could be normal. He wishes his brain wouldn’t short circuit when a woman checked him out at the grocery store. He wishes he could be confident in himself. He wishes he wasn’t so fucking weird. 
That’s what Eddie Munson is, he decides. A weird, dorky, nerd. He’s going to die a virgin, he’s sure of it. 
He wakes the next morning with his hand throbbing. He groans when he thinks about how you feel if his hand feels the way it does. He rolls out of bed, opening and closing his hand, wincing at each contract of his skin. 
He ends up running late to work, van speeding down the road as he nears the vinyl shop. He pulls in right at 10, practically jumping out of his van and speed walking towards the entrance. He unlocks the door, pushing inside and turning on the lights. 
He’s busy putting on a record to play in the shop when the bell above the door begins to ring. He turns when he hears it, smiling when he sees who he’s met with. 
It's you. You’re wearing a pink skirt, a cream sweater thrown over it, not how Eddie would have ever imagined you to dress. 
“Y-Y/N?” Eddie stutters, record needle scratching loudly as he drops it. 
“Hi, Eddie,” you walk towards the counter, in the light of the storefront he sees that your right eye has turned a bright purple.
“Shit- I’m so sorry,” Eddie rasps, wincing as you tilt your face up to reveal the bruise on your cheek.
“Had to make you feel a little more sorry for me,” you say with a small chuckle. Eddie flashes you pleading eyes, silently begging you to stop messing with him. 
“Hey, it’s okay! I actually just came to bring this back,” you dig into your baby pink purse, pulling out Eddie’s now clean bandana.
“I uh, asked Dustin where I could find you,”
Eddie smiles and takes the bandana from your hand, tucking it into his back pocket. 
“Thanks, I appreciate it,” He sends you a salute as you back away from the counter.
“See ya around Eddie,”
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The next time you show up to his work, Eddie is high. He’d taken a few dabs in his car on his lunch break. The weed really takes over when you walk in. Pretty blue skirt flowing behind you, an oversized white sweater brushing the hem of your skirt causes his heart to do tiny little flips.
“Hey Eddie,” you squeak as you approach him. The bruise around your eye is almost completely healed and the swelling in your nose has gone down tremendously. You look better and Eddie is so happy to see that. 
“Hey trouble,” he rasps, a dopey smile on his face. He walks to where you’re standing, stopping once he reaches you, leaning over the counter. He smacks his gum, elbows resting on the glass as he looks down at you. 
“Trouble?” you quirk an eyebrow, hand on your hip as you scowl at him playfully. 
“It fits, sue me. What brings you in?” Eddie questions, rounding the counter and settling next to you. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms and legs as he looks over the expanse of the store. 
“Need a birthday present for a coworker. He’s throwing a halloween party for his birthday. He’s into stuff like you. Ya know, dorky stuff, metal, the whole lot,”
“Ah, I got just the thing. Iron Maiden released a new album this past month, just got the vinyls and 8 tracks in,” 
He makes his way to the ‘new arrivals’ section of the store, fingers skimming through records effortlessly. 
“Aha, here it is!” he shouts, handing it to you with a bow. He feels more confident like this, high and able to flirt and exist around you. 
“Milady…” he ushers you back to the counter, ringing you up. He bags your purchase, carefully handing it over the counter. 
“Have a good one, trouble,” he says with a smirk on his lips. You wave a small goodbye but stop before you’re able to make it out the door. You turn on your heels marching right up to Eddie Munson. 
“Will you be my date to this thing?” You’re standing right infront of him, so close you can smell weed, cigarettes and his cologne. 
“A Halloween party?” Eddie questions, head ticking to the side as he ponders the idea. 
“Sure thing, I’ll pick you up?” you nod and pluck a pencil out of the jar by the register, writing down your address on a scrap piece of your receipt. You hand it to Eddie, smiling widely as he takes it. 
“7:00?”
“7:00, sweetheart,” 
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Eddie’s heart is pounding. He’s sure he’s on the verge of either keeling over or running for the hills. His high has worn off and he’s 99% sure any and all ability to be normal has left the building. His hands are shaking as he clips in his little red devil horns. He backs up from the mirror and looks at himself. Red sweater, black jeans and black boots was tonight’s ensemble. He adjusts the little horns in his hair, fluffing his bangs before walking out to the living room, hands still shaking as he collects his keys. 
“I’ll be late Wayne,” He shouts to his Uncle in the Kitchen. With that, he makes his way out to his van, hopping in and lighting a cigarette to help calm his nerves. 
He makes his way to your house, the ride and nicotine somewhat soothing his nerves. You see his van at the curb and bid your mom goodbye, stepping out into the cold October air. Eddie feels all the air leave his chest as he looks at you as you come down your porch stairs. You’re in that same oversized white sweater except this time it's over a white tennis skirt. Your hair is down in braids, a little halo atop your head. Eddie is pretty sure he dreamed you up, there is no way you are real he thinks to himself. 
You practically skip to Eddie’s van, Eddie getting out quickly in order to open the door for you. You slide into the passenger seat, Eddie climbing into the van shortly after. 
“An angel huh?” he asks nervously, causing you to blush. 
“Every devil needs his angel,” you shrug. It’s Eddie’s turn to blush, his red cheeks matching the horns tucked in his mess of curls. 
You make conversation as you drive. Albeit awkward conversation, but conversation nonetheless. Your friends warned you about this, how awkward it would be but honestly, you liked it. You liked how you could get under Eddie Munson’s skin. And in return, Eddie makes your heart flutter. No matter how many times your friends told you he was awkward or a nerd, you couldn’t stop thinking of the brown eyed blubbering idiot. 
You pull up to where the party is, a house on the outskirts of town. You spot a bonfire in the back surrounded by people, signaling that you’re at the right place. Eddie parks his van on the grass before getting out and rounding the car to help you out. 
You both trudge through the grass, making it back to the bonfire, present in hand. Eddie hangs back while you converse with your friends. You down several drinks, drinking too fast and feeling a little woozy. 
You find Eddie several minutes after you down your second drink. He has a red solo cup in hand, other hand in his pocket as he sips the mixture in the cup. 
“Hey Eds,” You say with a smile. 
“Trouble,” 
“You’re being a wallflower,” You giggle, getting up on your tiptoes to adjust one of his horns. 
“I-I just don’t know anyone,” He shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip of his drink. You grab his hand once he’s done, dragging him to the fire and sitting on a log next to him. 
You don’t let go of him, Eddie smiling when your thumb begins to rub circles on the back of his hand. 
You comfort him for a moment before turning to him and beginning conversation. 
“So- you don't talk much do you?” you question as you take a sip of your drink. 
Eddie shakes his head, ducking it down in embarrassment. 
“Hey hey, it’s okay!” you reveal, smiling at him when he snaps his head back up. 
“I can talk enough for the both of us,” you babble, “My name's Y/N but you know that, and I know your name is Eddie,” vodka hits your tongue as you sip on your drink. 
“You’re a dorky metalhead and you drive a rickety old van that smells like weed so I assume you smoke?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows. 
“Deal. I uh- Deal,” Your eyes widen comically at his revelation. 
“You deal drugs?” you whisper-yell, a chuckle rising out of Eddie at your reaction.
“Yeah, mostly bud,” 
“Can we smoke?” 
He simply nods. You get up from your place on the log, hand gripping his as you pull him back towards the van. 
He opens the back for you, the two of you ducking in and settling in the back. He pulls out an old lunch box, digging in it until he can find his rolling papers. You watch him skillfully roll the joint, his hands finally steady. 
He brings the joint to his lips, holding it there as he flicks his lighter. The end of the joint blooms red, smoke flowing from Eddie’s mouth as he exhales. Eddie passes you the spliff, smiling widely at your doe eyed expression. 
You take a long drag, your exhale being cut off by dry coughing and hacking. Your cheeks burn bright red in the commotion. Eddie finds a half-drunk bottle of water and passes it to you. You hand him back the joint and gratefully accept the water, chugging the rest of the bottle. 
The rest of your smoke sesh goes off without a hitch, the two of you giggling at anything and
everything. 
“You talk more when you’re high,” Eddie stops rolling the second joint of the night, looking up at you. 
“It’s hard making new friends. Weed makes me relax and not be so weird.” Eddie licks the rolling paper, focusing on the task at hand.
“You’re not weird..” 
“Says the girl who called me a dork the second she met me,”
“I am pretty sure I have endless passes to call you a dork, you punched me in the face and all,” Eddie sucks in his breath through his teeth, holding his hand up in defense.
“What was a pretty thing like you doing working there anyways?” he takes a drag of the joint, inhaling deeply before blowing all the smoke in your face.
“Eddie? Pretty thing? Are you flirting with me?” you reach towards him, hands meeting as you pass the spliff between you two. 
“I dunno trouble, am I?” he questions, mentally giving himself a pep talk to not screw this up. 
Eddie shifts in his seat, turning to face you.
“Would that bother you? If I was?” Eddie asks sweetly, doe eyes looking down at you. 
You shake your head, your heart races as he shifts closer to you. You’re sure he is going to kiss you, he's so close. Until, he isn't. He pulls away. 
He casts his eyes downward, nerves in his belly rising. 
“Eddie, what’s wrong?” 
“I-I’ve never?” 
“Kissed a girl?” you finish for him, your hand holding his as he nods his head. 
“Well come here then,” You peck his lips a few times, finally deepening the kiss and showing Eddie what to do. He catches on fast, the kiss quickly turning messy and desperate. You're straddling his lap when your hands slide underneath Eddie’s red sweater, a whimper escaping his lips when your cold fingers brush against his middle. 
“Can assume you haven’t done this either?” His eyes are blown wide as he looks up at you, lips pink and plump, cheeks red and splotchy. 
He shakes his head. You cup his jaw in your hand, drawing him in for a kiss before you pull away and whisper in his ear. 
“Just follow my lead,” 
Eddie shudders as your breath hits his neck. His cock is straining so painfully against his zipper and he’s pretty sure if he doesn’t get relief soon, he’ll explode. 
You sit back on your haunches, stripping yourself of your sweater and skirt, leaving you only in your halo. 
If Eddie wasn’t already painfully hard, the sight before him is enough to do so. Your naked body dressed only in a halo while the moonlight bleeds into his van has his mind whirling. He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Because if all angels looked like this, he’d be on his knees every night. 
You giggle at the way he's staring, hands going to snake back under his sweater in order to strip it from his body. You pull it over his head, curls bouncing back to place after the sweater is fully removed, horns staying in place despite the disturbance. 
You start to work on his pants, unbuckling his belt and popping the button of his jeans. You kiss him softly when you dip your hand into his boxers. You giggle when he hisses, kissing his jaw when the hiss turns into a needy moan. You pump him a few times before withdrawing your hand from his boxers. 
“Let’s get out of these, yeah?” Eddie nods feverishly, gangly limbs moving fast to rid himself of his jeans. You draw in a breath when he is finally naked before you. He is so pretty, his cock is so pretty. It’s thick and just the right length, curving slightly to the left, following his hip bone and resting there. 
“Lay on your back,” you instruct, grabbing a random pillow from the floor and shoving it under Eddie’s head. 
“Now, enjoy yourself. Touch me however you want and for the love of god, don’t hold back,”
You throw your leg over his body, straddling his middle. You get on your knees, hovering above Eddie’s cock. You take it in your hand, direct it to your weeping hole, and sink down. You raise yourself slowly before dropping yourself back down, a little “oof” getting punched from Eddie’s lungs. You pick up your pace and deduce him to a moaning, needy mess. 
“F-fuck trouble, I- I’m. I can’t-” Eddie’s hands come to rest on your hips, pushing you down, forcing himself deeper inside of you. You feel him twitching inside of you, cum leaking from you and down his balls. 
Eddie is bright red when you look down at him, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to say something. He’s so caught up in his mind, reminding himself of how weird and pathetic he is he almost doesn't hear you. 
“That. Was so hot,” you reveal, his spent cock now softening inside you. 
Eddie chuckles, pushing you up his body to release his cock, settling you beside him. He draws you in tightly, your legs intertwined, cum leaking from you and staining the blanket beneath you. 
“Have I broken you?” you ask as you trace the tattoos that litter Eddie’s chest. 
“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie groans, lips coming to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 
The two of you sit there for a moment, breathing falling in line as you both enjoy the presence of each other. 
“You never told me why you work at a haunted house,” Eddie says, finally breaking the silence
“Oh- my brother is in charge of all the “cast members ", got me the gig and pays me well. Not really up my alley but it’s better than the mall,” you shrug, leaning up on your elbows to look outside.
“There’s more people outside, do you want to go back or…” Eddie quirks his eyebrow. 
“Orrr…” 
“We can do that again?”
642 notes · View notes
skywerse · 5 months
Text
AVA FERIN MIGHT STILL BE ALIVE
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SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS IN GENERAL
HEAR ME OUT, READ BELOW THE CUT AND TELL ME IF IT'S SOMETHING OR IF I'M SIMPLY LOOSING MY SHIT OVER NOTHING... BECAUSE IT MAKES SENSE TO ME—
Fey Ferin wants R.A.F.T to seize control over the world, and there's nothing that can stand in her way, not even her own family.
There might have been a time when Jayson Ferin was a good man. Based on what May says about him and glimpses we get from Jay's early memories (I recall one with the pin), it appears he once was. Perhaps Jayson desired change for the navy too, but that would be such a pain for Fey to deal with. So, she seems to have brainwashed him for months, possibly years by now (ep 79, Gilly detects corruption in him mixed with good energy), molding him into the perfect soldier who doesn't question orders and neglects his family for the sake of helping his mother to carry out this great fucking world domination plan.
Fey likely harbors resentment towards Drey for not being obedient like his brother, opting for a pirate's life over being loyal to his family and their ideals. Yet, Fey can't bring herself to kill him, so she puts him in a top security prison to let him rot instead.
Ava was the ideal soldier—strong, brave, and revered by all. However, for Fey, Ava's kindness, compassion, and desire for change is simply another pain to deal with. But of course, she would not kill her own family. And she couldn't let her just vanish either.
Perhaps Fey suspected that Ava had a soft spot for pirates, given her upbringing in Eagle's Den and being raised by such a softhearted daughter-in-law. But perhaps, on one occasion, someone witnessed Ava together with a pirate, and somehow that information reached Fey. And after learning that her granddaughter, her esteemed captain, had feelings for a pirate from the crew of the last remaining pirate lord she aimed to get rid of, Fey simply couldn't let this opportunity slip by.
Maybe Ava cooperated willingly, fought like hell, or simply was faced with a deal she couldn't refuse. R.A.F.T. wouldn't just eliminate their top captain, such a vital asset for the upcoming war. Instead, they created a doppelgänger, and chucked the real Ava into some top-notch secret confinement. Letting the dopple to become their pawn. A perfect martyred hero to be killed by those bad bad pirates. A perfect excuse to wage a war over.
But the doppelgängers aren't perfect. So when Lizzie tells Ava about a pirate who is like a father to her, Ava doesn't remember. And when Lizzie begs her not to fight, Ava doesn't listen because she doesn't remember the numerous times they sneaked out together to simply talk like normal people do. And when there's an order to shoot, Ava doesn't move away, as she remembers she was only created to destroy and to be destroyed.
Would Jayson know? Probably not. His hatered toward the pirates responsible for his daughter's death would likely fuel his brainwashed self even more. Very convenient for the long run.
Fey might permit her youngest granddaughter to infiltrate the pirates, banking on her own hatered over her sister's death to maybe one day make her an even better soldier than Ava ever was.
But maybe Fey was wrong.
And she knows it when she receives news of her son's escape from prison, and when her other son suddenly takes leave, or perhaps when a navy base on the Black Sea is breached.
So, when her promising soldier begins to rebel, it might be time to reveal the secret that she's been keping. Maybe it will help her granddaughter decide which side to choose in the end.
me rn:
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But idk, that's just my speculation. If it turns out to be a load of bullshit you can point and laugh, but at this point it makes so much sense in that smooth brain of mine as I'm writing this at 7am after getting no sleep whatsoever.
ALSO, just something fun to think over:
In the rolled for 114, Grizz mentioned that the doppel/brainwashing machine had buttons with dates on them. And if pressed, it would display the people who had previously used it. I can't help but wonder if my theory about Ava is true if she might have showed up there. Or maybe it could have shown Jayson getting his fucking brain blasted. BUT WELP, someone rolled like shit (pointsatgillionpointsatgillion) and we'll never know now—
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cyberbunny07 · 10 days
Text
Bird Behaviors
An Adam x Reader Ramble
A.N. - Hello hello, my dears. I got bored in my chemistry class so here’s some brain rot because I love looking into how a character’s animal nature can affect their daily life and I might go into a full psychological rant about a few later but anywizzle-
Cw - Pushy coworker (doesn’t go into detail) / pissy Adam
Just Adam Being Part Bird (Not Really)
Wing Flapping (Whenever he finds something stupid hilarious that he wants to share, his wings usually flap behind him.)
“Hey, hot stuff!”
You sighed, looking up from your phone to look at whatever he wanted to show you now. It was usually a random rock or something shiny.
“Look, look, look,” he walked up next to you, his wings shifting behind him, “it’s a dick, right?”
You gave him a look.
He rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever, but it is, isn’t it?” He shoved the rock in your face as you looked it over. It looked more like a heart, but knowing him, he wouldn’t agree.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
His wings flapped behind him as he grinned wider, “Right? Fucking called it. Lute said it looked like Missouri. I knew you’d agree, babe.”
You smiled at his childish antics, “Yup.”
Preening (Despite what you might think, he takes good care of himself. He’s the face of his band after all.)
“Adam, I got the-“ you paused at the sight. Adam was bent in a strange way, his wings fully unfurled, as he tried to reach a spot by the base of his wings, “Fucking ass why are you so damn-“
He paused, then fell, cursing.
“Fucking hell, gimme a damn warning, bitch,” he huffed. He sat down on the couch, arms crossed with his wings half groomed.
You laughed, “Yeah, yeah,” you stood behind him, “sit up.”
“I don’t need your fucking help.”
“Up, Adam.”
With some more grumbling, he obliged.
Beak Clicking (Adam has this weird habit he does every time someone tries to flirt with you.)
“C’mon, just one? I promise to pay and everything,” they pleaded. Your coworker had been asking for a date this past week. You repeatedly told them no, but they didn’t seem to get the hint.
You, of course, told Adam. Something you were regretting now that you saw him standing menacingly behind them.
He kissed his teeth, “So, you’re the one who’s been annoying ‘em, huh?”
They turned around, not expecting Adam to be there, “Oh, uh, hey, A-”
“Don’t ‘hey, Adam’ me, bitch,” he looked them over, “What the Hell do you think you’re doing? They said no, so leave.”
“I, uh, yeah, okay.”
Fluffing (He gets cold easily. And he makes it very well known)
“I don’t wanna,” he whined.
“Look,” you put on a jacket, “it’s not even 60 degrees. You’ll be fine.
“Nuh uh,” his wings formed a very fluffy cocoon around him, “I’ll freeze!”
You pinched your nose, “Adam, I need to leave.”
“But I don’t want you leaving me.”
“Then come on!”
“It’s cold,” he pouted.
You have to admit, seeing his cute stupid little face surrounded by his wings made you want to just stay and cuddle.
He knew that, of course, “C’mon. I’m cold, you’re warm, just cuddle me, bitch.”
You raised a brow, making him pause.
“Uh, please?” He gave you that damned look.
You sighed, already taking off your jacket, “I hate you.”
He had a smug grin, “Love you, too, hot stuff.”
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jyoongim · 8 days
Note
could i request some angel dust x reader fluff?
🟡
with prompts:
hugging and absentmindedly kissing their neck, resulting in mortification for one of them
memorising their favourite things and treating them when they have a bad day
If no one knew you, Angel did.
Angel. 
No Antony knew you better than you knew yourself.
The two of you were like peas in a pod.
Inseparable.
To the point, the two of you were mistaken as a couple more often than not.
So when you weren’t spamming his phone with silly videos or blowing his phone up, or replying to his sarcastic jokes he knew something was wrong.
You had been having a rough day. Your hair was ugly, your makeup was horrible and you felt fat in all your clothes.
So what other choice did you have but to mope and be in a self-induced rot fest?
You were so focused bed rotting that you didn’t even Angel coming into your room.
The rustling of bags is what alerted you.
You turned around and you felt your eyes get teary seeing your best friend setting down multiple shopping bags and your favorite comfort food.
Angel smiled “It ain’t like ya to ghost me all day so I thought why not ditch the dicks and watch cringey shit with ya”
You threw your arms around the tall spider, babbling how he was the best. Angel chuckled and welcomed your embrace, 
“What’s with all the bags” you asked, giving him a suspicious look as he gestured for you to one of them.
He shrugged and your mouth dropped when the newest and hottest bag in Hell was sitting in your hands.
”Angel no way!” You squealed, digging into other bags.
You never understood why Angel always spent his money on you.
He always said it needed to be appreciated more than buying drugs with.
A jewelry box caught your attention and you gaped.
The couple rings you had been saving up for for MONTHS!
A promise ring you had said you would get when you found someone who always had your back.
You had been eyeing them to get for you and Angel and wanted to surprise him for his birthday.
”Do you like em? I admit I’m not a committed kind of person”
You felt him come behind you and wrap his arms around you, as he slipped a pair of arms in front of you to take the rings and slip them on your fingers, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear.
”But for you baby it hasn’t been too bad”
You felt his head nuzzle into the crook of your neck and cheeks burn when you felt his lips press softly into your tender skin.
And it seems his brain finally caught up to him because he froze.
Angel let out a staggered cough before releasing you and clumsily marching to where your couch was
”ANYWAY! I also got ya that disgusting take out place you love so much so come on and pick some stupid show to watch”
You grinned, cheeks flushed, and made your way over, snuggling into him like nothing happened.
You tried to contain your giggles when you caught him staring at you, turning away to insult the tv.
You fiddled with your ring
Yea maybe it wont be too bad…
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sugoi-writes · 1 month
Text
Scream Machine - An Alastor x Reader fic
(Not sure if this will be a multipart yet or not, but hopeful for it to be! I hope you enjoy some brain rot with me! For reference of the song, look up Scream Machine by Maynard Ferguson on Youtube!)
Reader is a musician who started playing in their time in hell, and likes wearing heels/dresses. Alastor is brought to a "classy" speakeasy by Husk, and is perfectly content with watching your performance...
No warnings, past minor implications/pining and mentions of blood and darker intentions. Have fun! 🎙❤️
❤️🎙❤️
The hellish speakeasy was bellowing with lively chatter, instrumentalists setting up for a new set. As Husk adjusted his mouthpiece, Alastor gives him a beckoning wave, eyebrow twitching. Shit
Knowing his goose could be cooked, Husk trudges his way over, his tenor saxophone hanging lazily around his neck," What's the matter?"
Alastor, expression blunt, says" So I'm supposed to assume that this next chart... ugh, Scream Machine... is going to be... tasteful?" The Radio Demon looked forlorn, ears drooping slightly. He had been promised performances that were more his style. But all that he's observed and heard is BAD jazz. He had half a mind to think that his 'associate' had done this on purpose.
"I have to admit, Husker, while these pieces could certainly be called JAZZ... it's not quite to my tastes." Husk rolls his eyes, ears perking up when his name is called from the stage. Husk waves Alastor off dismissively, his saxophone being slung back to a playable position.
"Some new hot-shot features in it... 'figured you might give it a shot. You might just find a new 'pet' to listen to..." Alastor all but cackles, wiping a stray tear from his eye," Replacing you, dear Husker? Don't be absurd!" Alastor gives his henchman a cheeky wave of his fingers, making the anthropomorphic cat growl. God, Husk hated that fucker...
But, to Alastor's surprise, his eyes did befall a nearly angelic sight. Your shoes clicked loudly as you entered the stage, calling forth attention from the room. It quickly fell to silence as everyone waited for the performance to start.
Alastor's eyes narrowed as he watched you shake hands with the vile, modern jazz conductor... Your grip seemed firm, domineering almost. He was quick to note the flinch he gave you, that nervous smile of an intimidated man. What a curious creature you were; you oozed confidence and bravdo.
There you were, dressed in a long, elegant gown that drug along the floor. Alastor's posture straightens as the jazz conductor let you take your place, before counting the band off. The intro was quiet, featuring only a small handful of instruments. Alastor nearly leaned in as it grew, the trumpets coming in to the fray after a few measures. He realized then that you must be a trumpet player and the hot shot soloist that Husk mentioned. His interest in you grew as he eyed you from across the room.
Your hands were slender, though not quite as slim as his... and much smaller. But, they did seem very nimble. As you gracefully glided through different fingerings and positions, Alastor found himself distracted by your hands. He saw how you seemed to have a loose, almost nonchalant grip, while your soul gave the performance of your life. A perfect juxtaposition between your handshake and now; that fascinated him. He wondered if your bravado was your mask, or if that was the REAL you...
His hair nearly blew back from his face as the chorus kicked in, eyes wide in disbelief. Indeed, that's why it's called Scream Machine. All the right notes, the chords were perfectly struck...but there was still a zanny dissonance that had him gritting his teeth. How gauche...
But, when you began your solo, his ears couldn't help but flick and flex towards you, absolutely devouring your tone and clarity. You cut through the ensemble like a well sharpened knife, your style and timbre undeniable. It almost made the song forgivable, in his eyes. He rested his chin on his hand's plateau, eyes lidded. Despite the jazz being more bombastic and modern... he could get used to this if you were at the helm...
You sauntered towards the front of the ensemble as you blazed into another solo, your fingers and tongue articulating quickly. You were effortlessly setting the newfound tone. He was impressed, to say the least. Improv or not, the solo was quite a tricky one. One that even he would struggle with on a piano. As you walked across the stage, you struck a powerful pose, before the conductor grabbed the edge of your dress and tugged. Hard.
For a moment, a flash of anger crossed Alastor's forced smile, until he was hit with the "reveal".
In a quick flourish that matched the highest note of your solo, you stood in a now short, golden dress that hugged your figure. It seemed that Alastor didn't mind the show... in fact, he was nearly enslaved by your performance.
You shot the crimson and pitch demon a devious look, winking as your solo continued. Alastor felt his mouth salivating, swallowing harshly to get rid of the access fluids. It was strange enough to find himself this entertained... more so than his heightened curiosity.
The way your throat bellowed and constricted when you were playing... the way your cheeks puffed just a bit was you sustained insane, high notes... the way your eyes would flit about the room, but always land on him. Maybe he wasn't the only one caught staring...
The Radio Demon's mind landed on a simple notion: tasting the metallic tang of your lips, fresh from the kiss of your mouthpiece. Would it taste metallic and jarring like blood, he wondered? Would you be breathless from your performance, or just getting warmed up? Alastor shook his head with a start. What a strange thought to have... especially for him. He tried to dismiss it, foot tapping instinctively to the beat.
As the song continued, it suddenly grew quieter, the piano, drumkit, and string bass the only instruments playing. He watched as you blew slow, hot air in your horn, keeping it warm as you rested. Your lips were red, slightly puffy from your efforts. Even as a talented as you were, you had a crack in your mask: you were definitely a little winded.
As he kept watching you, Alastor couldn't help but focus on how your pulse beat in time with the music on stage... His devious mind cooked up the idea of sinking his teeth into your quivering heartbeat... Perhaps he would lure you out back, to a quiet place...
Again, he surprised himself. He had to clear his mind as he tried to focus anywhere but your neck, fingers and face.
Then suddenly, the main motif hit again, and he nearly fell backward in his chair. His own heart thumped madly, matching your own. Your eyes didn't meet his, but even so, he felt like you were playing just for him. He WANTED you to play just for him.
Alastor gripped the sides of his chair harshly, elongated talons splintering the wood. That settles it. Husker was right about one thing... you were a fascinating sight... one to behold, and maybe even held...
As the song wound towards its conclusion, you gave a wide twirl of your hips, before striking your final note. The accompaniment roared life, sustaining the final note before hitting it again, resolutely. Applause echoed throughout the room as Alastor felt the need to join. He was not keen on appearing rude or uncultured. His characteristic smile stretched his thin face as you beamed and bowed. Your eyes, wide with awe, glanced his way. Alastor noted the way your face heated, nodding and giving him a flattered smile.
Indeed that settles it; he would speak with you. Now. Alone... And from there, who knows what he'll do? Alastor slunk into the shadows, Husk unaware that his master was taking a quick detour...
Backstage, you were being fawned over and cheered for, the instrumentalists and crew happily contesting how talented you were. You would always smile and chuckle, doing your best to wave off the compliments. Truth be told, you did enjoy the hell out of them, but you didn't want it all to go to your head. Not yet, anyway~
Even now, you were humble, as a unfamiliar shadow formed behind you. Instinctively, you flinched and turned towards the figure, having to look up to meet the gaze.
It was none other than Alastor, the Radio Demon.
"I must say... that was quite the riveting performance, dear. Quite the act! I wanted to give you my gratitude for making something so loud and gauche bearable to listen to." Alastor offered a sweet, welcoming hand, outstretched for you to take. Come on, he thought... shake his hand like you had the conductor's.
You had sized him up, knowing fully well who was paying you the backhanded compliment, "Alastor, sir... 'pleasure to be meeting the Radio Demon in the flesh." Your hand met his, and just like he suspected; you nearly held him in a vice grip. The sinister smile on his face doubled, a chuckle and a quirked brow sent your way.
"My, do my ears deceive me? Am I in the presence of a fan~?" The tone of his microphone filter made his voice smooth as velvet. His voice forced you to suppress a shiver. You roll your eyes, before an uncharacteristically soft smile graces your face; one that didn't match your firm grip.
"You could assume that, I suppose... I've been an active listener to your broadcasts for a while now. 'Gotta keep up with who got got... and who has the best music on the air."
If Alastor smiled any wider, he would be entering his full-demonic form. But for now, he controlled himself.
"Well, isn't this a treat then..." Alastor leans down to your height, his face mere inches from yours," I dont intent to be forward or crass, but perhaps you could accompany me on a quick stroll?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you processed his words. Knowing that he was an overlord, his words were a demand, not a request. If you refuse, you may die. If you go with him... you may die just the same. Every fiber in your being demanded that you turn him down. Lie, and say you have one more set...
You puffed out your chest, a brave grin on your face," Sure... My chops are busted from that last set. Let's bounce."
Alastor offered you an arm, something you weren't expecting. You hesitated a beat longer than you should have before taking it. Alastor's grip now firm, you felt yourself bend and wane before solidifying just outside the joint you played in. Your head turned quickly towards the door, then him.
"So you can teleport other people too...," Good to know, you thought, as Alastor laughed.
"Dear, why fight the crowd? I figured it would be easier this way, don't you think?" You returned a nod to him, keeping your mask sharp as the two of you started your way down the block. You realized then you'd have to return tomorrow for your trumpet. But again, that wasn't the most worrying thing on your mind just yet...
You were weary of the entire encounter, but continued to follow the Radio Demon, who seemed a little too hellbent on getting you alone...
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t-thathandsomedevil · 8 months
Text
Desire - mattheo riddle x fem! Nott! Reader
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TW! Smut, s3x  foul language, mention of drugs, alchol, ciggaretts, etc, 16+ (but if your underage read at your own risk) CRINGE WARNING, frendly arguments -- Author note I am delululu and have a severe case of mattheo brain rot so yea :) this was a request (anonymous wanted more smut) I always take construction criticism, spelling/grammar/punctuation correction, and requests Enjoy<3 773 words 4,395 characters
--
Mattheo was tiered. Of everything. He was tierd of school, he was tierd of being treated like the devil because of his name, but most of all, ve was tierd of pretending to be your friend. He didnt want to be your friend. He wanted to be your boyfriend. He kept hinting he wanted to be more than friends, hitting on you, but you took it as wholesome, platonic behavior like hell.
"who is gonna drive? Y/N cant drive because she hasnt take lesson.'' The said, tossing his ciggarett into the bushes.
"theo, i dont want you to drive.'' You said, crossing your arms. Theodore rolled his eyes ''why not? I passed my motherfucking test like bruh''
"hmm, are you just gonna pretend you never crashed your buggatti into a tree because you were reading on wattpad?'' Mattheo asked, smirking.
"yes, and that was not my buggatti. It was draco's.'' Clarified theo, casually flipping mattheo off.
"guys shut up and fucking decide who will drive. I vote mattheo'' you said, raising your hand to show your vote. "I vote Mattheo too.'' Mattheo said, turning his head and smirking at Theodore ''sorry mate, you gotta sit in the back''
Theodore scowled ''son of a bitch.'' Mattheo smirked and said ''motherfucking son of  bitch.''
"you both are a son of a bitch so get in the car'' you chided your brother and his bestfriend. Mattheo smiled fake apologeticly and opened the driver's seat door, but theo smirked and said ''your a whore''
-AFTER SIBLING ISSUES-
Mattheo started the engine and picked up his phone and made to pick a playlist but Theodore said: ''im in charge of the radio because I have to sit in the back'' Mattheo grinned ''i dont get it but bro here'' he handed Theo the phone. "just dont play Ed Sheeran''
You frowned, knowing theo and not wanting to listen to Melanie Martinez, but Mattheo smirked and, when Theodore wasnt looking, angeled the mirror so that he could see under your clothes.
You opend your mouth to protest but Mattheo put a finger to your lip and winked ''shhh''. You frowned more still and pulled your knees to your chest.
Mattheo drove into the safeway gas station, the mirror still reflecting your legs. "fucker, my car dont need gas.'' Theodore mutterd. Mattheo rolled his eyes ''can you get the drinks from the safeway right here?''
Theodore nodded and pushed the door ''mattheo riddle onlock the door.'' Mattheo grinned sheepishly and unlocked the door. "firewhiskey'' he added ''i'll text you when you can come back.'' Theo rolled his eyes ''wow, now im getting locked out of my own car?'' He asked
"dont act like i didnt pay for half your car rent shit, idk what its called'' he said, smilling a genuine smile and patting Theodore's shoulder when he saw the hurt look on his face. "this is the only ill lock you out  promise''
As soon as Theodore shut the door, mattheo was ontop of you. "w-what are you doing..?'' You stutterd as Mattheo's hand traveled around your body. He gave you a boyish smile. "what does it look like im doing, angel?'' His hands now playing with your bra strap.
Before you could react, Mattheo was undressing you, leaving marks as he went. When he was done, Mattheo tossed your clothes into the driver's seat and thrusting his fingers into your cunt, waisting no time, pausing only to look at what ws between your legs.
"M-mattheo w-why..?'' You gasped quietly but he kissed you and said: ''shh, princess, pay attention.''
Mattheo's hands went to his jean zipper and yours went to his his button-up shirt. Mattheo's clothes were soon in the driver's seat aswell and he was ontop of you again.
He shoved his cock inside you, quickly pushing and pulling, his hand tangled in your hair and his other pinning yours onto the car window. You moaned as Mattheo's thrusts became rougher, feeling you pussy go numb.
You saw the people giving you and Mattheo the 'what the fuck' look, but you didnt care. All you could think about was Mattheo and Mattheo alone. "fuck..! " you moaned, arching your back.
Mattheo's lips pressed against yours again, tasting of acrid ciggarett smoke and sugary honey. You felt Mattheo's toung on your lips and you happily opend your mouth, letting his toung dance with yours, spilling saliva.
When your lips parted, leaving a bitter-sweet taste on your toung, Mattheo immediately picked up your clothes and began putting his clothes on. "we dont want your brother feeling excluded, do we?'' He asked, smirking.
You smiled and put on your clothes.
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 3 months
Note
sooo.. what was the aftermath w king soma?*flutters invisible lashes desperately*
Yandere! Male! King x Gn! Spy! Reader part 2
Same warnings as the first part. This one is short!
Tw/notes: rape, coercion, mind break, impreg, a/b/o for non-fem reader, soft nsfw/lime, Queen in this case is gender neutral
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How many days has it been since you got caught by Soma?
You watched as the sun sets and the moon rises, and vice versa over and over again by how much time passed inside your luxury cage.
Every night, Soma would come in and fuck you senseless, like a wild animal driven from lust and anger.
But there are also times where he weeps and cries on your lap, begging for you to love him as you took in his "love".
Every day was suffering, and every day was a chance slipped by to escape from his thorny grasps.
As the king, Soma knew you can't escape his clutches that easily. Despite being a spy of the Empire, you were dropped by Emperor Callisto once he knew that you were caught.
As a courtesy too, he won't attack the kingdom since Callisto got the information he wanted, and fled to raise hell to other cities/towns/kingdoms.
You mindlessly wandered around the room, getting antsy and restless from the unchanging environment you're in.
You want out, you want to get out of here.
"My Queen." A voice emitted out from the rumpled bed sheets, being illuminated by the sun rays of dawn. "You're awake."
Soma sat up, yawning. His chiseled visage of what was once perfection in your eyes, but now a portrait of a monster long gone faced you.
"you're not thinking of escaping, are you?" His voice, laced with anger yet a twinge of fear wafted through the air and into your ear, making you shiver.
You shook your head.
You can't even get the windows to open. It felt so suffocating.
Betrayed by your Emperor, and imprisoned to abuse by your King. You're not winning in life at all as Soma got off the bed, naked and approaching you.
"it's cold, my queen. You're only wearing thin garments, you need to warm up." His sultry voice, now filling with lust again, is making you groan inwardly. This man's stamina is something.
As he put a robe on your frame, he can't help but hungrily look down at your belly.
Your 5 month old pregnant belly.
Yes, you've been imprisoned for half a year now. With Soma making sure to impregnate you to make sure you know who you belong to.
Looking down at your stomach, you gulped a bit and wondered what your life is going to be with child.
Also, the fact that you retreated to the back of your mind shouts warnings to your body, wanting to escape at all.
But without your primary consciousness on the forefront, all your body could do was move to the window longingly. An instinct to run freely, and out of Soma's grasp.
Soma relished in this new you. Only letting your body speak, and your lips singing sweet melodies of your moans and whimpers.
But sometimes, he missed your spice, your anger and rage.
But most of all, he wants you to be fully his. Not just body, but mind and soul.
Soma kneeled in front of you, kissing your hands and looking at you with such love and care.
What a hypocrite.
"I will bring you back, my Queen." He whispered. "I want you to be mine completely. So come out of your mind, my love. Don't be afraid."
He coaxed you gently, nudging you while rubbing his cheeks on your palm.
And he smirks as he saw your pupils tremble.
Just a bit more.
Just a scoot, and you will be back.
"You'll be back. Soon you'll see..." He whispers, a promise left on his lips spoken on a threat and love. "You'll remember you belong to me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LMAO SORRY I CAN'T HELP IT I NEED TO INSERT THE LAST LINE.
I went back to my Hamilton brain rot after all 😔
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oliviajdjarin · 10 months
Text
Come Hell or High Water
Pairing: miguel x fem!reader (she/her; afab)
Summary: After an anomaly raid resulting in your capture, Miguel attempts to get some rest after days of searching. He finds it more difficult than expected.
Warnings: swearing, Miguel is incredibly self-deprecating, descriptions of blood, crying, torture, and an ambiguous ending.
A/N: I’m trying out some new formatting. Feel free to let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for reading.
Part 2
Word Count: 1k Type: blurb
Miguel O'Hara never knew how easy it would be to memorize a popcorn ceiling. Every crack, bubble, fleck of dust, scratch of paint. He had gotten to know it intimately, more intimately than he thought was possible.
He preferred the endless, beige void of his bedroom ceiling to closing his eyes, knowing that once he did, he would be met with your own.
"Miguel," you whispered, light leaving your eyes as the Doctor Octavious variant stomped on your gizmo, wrenched your arm out from under you, and dove the both of you through his cross-dimensional portal.
"I'll find you," Miguel screamed, veins popping from his neck. “I’ll find you; I promise.” The frailty in his voice making his skin crawl just thinking about it.
"Miguel," you repeated, knowing the truth, and were gone.
Without a trace. A tracker. Or a goodbye.
And it was all his fucking fault.
He was the one who pushed. He was the one who agreed to let you come. He was the one who had not properly calculated how big of a threat the Doctor had become and sent you in to be totally blindsided. He was the one who let his true feelings for you show, right in front of the Doctor's beady, vendetta-filled eyes, allowing him to see just how to bring Miguel O’Hara to his knees.
He still felt the bruises and dried blood on his shins, kneecaps, and elbows from how long he had kneeled and buried himself onto that rancid cobblestone street. “I'll do anything, anything you want.”
The Doctor only smiled.
Miguel hadn't allowed himself to grieve. Or mourn. Or process any of it for long enough to come up with an actual plan. No. He tore through galaxies like an animal, commanding every one of his spiders to search every sector of every city, before moving onto the next one. He blocked off streets. Ripped apart homes. Trespassed into governmental bodies. Dug through sewers and trashcans and jail centers. He left every galaxy he visited in shreds.
It stretched on for days, this rampage, until Jess finally cornered him, and forced him to finally sit the fuck down.
“Look at yourself, Miguel. You're becoming the people who kill us. This isn't how we'll find her.”
Miguel merely scoffed, complying only to humor her.
“Go home, Miguel. Fucking relax.”
How could he fucking relax - how dare he fucking relax - when he was the one who had done this to you.
He couldn't get it out of his head. Your eyes slowly becoming solemn, sunken, defeated. Like you were disappointed in him. Like he had let you down. And yet, your gaze simultaneously memorized every inch of him.
Blood streamed down your face from a deep cut on your forehead, dripping a deep red into your eyes and mouth as you stared at him. The Doctor's grip on your arm was firm, firm enough to squeeze your triceps so hard muscle popped out on your underarm. Your suit was torn to shreds, signifying that you had more than just the wound on your forehead.
Miguel wondered obsessively if they had been cleaned, stitched, and treated properly, or if the Doctor stooped to merely let you rot in a cage somewhere.
If that was the case, Miguel wondered, would you even still be breathing?
He closed his eyes, attempting to steady his breathing. No, you would be alive. Without you, the Doctor had no leverage, no treat to wiggle in front of Miguel's face, yet keeping it just out of reach. He would be keeping you alive.
His nostrils flared as his brain spiraled down a hole he hadn't let himself fall into yet. Alive was one thing, but how he was keeping you alive was another.
Miguel ground his teeth together as his occipital lobe flashed images into his mind before he could stop it. The Doctor starving you, trapping you, taunting you, putting his hands on you -
Miguel's claws began to pull out of his fingers, and his fangs dug into the skin of his bottom lip. Waves and waves of white hot, burning, pulsing rage washed over him, making his vision go milk white, paralyzing him to the bed. The images continued flashing and flashing, over and over again. The Doctor's smile gleaming as he touched you, your face a mural of pain and loss, screaming at the top of your lungs.
His claws dug into his mattress, and his fangs cut deep enough to draw blood. His mouth filled with metal.
He could hear your screams, echoing through his mind. It was the only thing he could hear.
He couldn't fucking take it anymore.
He sat up in bed, his bare, sweaty back sticking to the sheets as he did. He tapped on his gizmo, allowing his suit to stretch and encompass the entirety of his body. His ears rang and his neck twitched as he stood to his full height, allowing his suit to cover him completely.
As his mask covered his face, he closed his eyes. He breathed in, washing away the scenarios his brain was abusing him with, and breathed them out. He pushed all his emotions into corners of his brain, storing them away into tiny pockets, vowing to only open them once the job was done.
He opened his eyes, his body a vessel of only cool, venomous focus. He didn't care what the Doctor had done, what he himself had done, what anyone had done up unto that point. He only allowed himself to care about how to move forward.
He left his room, walking down the hallway of the Spider Society as silent and deadly as a loaded gun, and dug his claws into his palms. Blood trailed a path behind him.
He was ice. Pure, focused ice, and he was going to get you back.
"Come hell or high water," he whispered to himself, "I will get her back."
Tag list:
@leahkenobi @buckysblondie
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siriuswritingandart · 2 months
Text
König x Male Mutant Reader
Woah! Sirius is writing again instead of posting art? Yeah, I have COD brain rot so have more König and male reader.
NSFW WARNING (NSFW UNDER CUT)
Warnings: 18+ mdni, THIS IS FOR MALE READERS so ass/dick anatomy, handjob, Handler/Mutant, German words (I used google translate, please don't come after me
It had been a long day. You were totally done with everything. You had been training new handlers on how to use signals with your handler König, and every single person couldn’t understand basic nonverbal signals. You were getting more and more fed up with each wrong signal and König knew it. He sent you back to your barracks with your tail between your legs.
Once inside your room, you sat down on your bed and flopped onto your back. You couldn’t believe the nerve of some of the trainees, treating you like a dog and not like a human. I mean, yeah, you were a dog hybrid, but you were still human! You thought back on how König reacted whenever one of the trainees disrespected you. The thought of him yelling in the trainee’s face was causing your cock to stir in your pants. You groan and shove your face into your pillow and sigh. You should take a cold shower to stop this. You have a meeting soon and you want to be able to focus on the meeting 100%. You thought to yourself for a bit and groaned as you got up. You hate taking showers, at least the dog part of you does, but you don’t mind it.
As you walk down the hall with your shower supplies heading to the bathroom, your mind continues to wander back to your handler. You had always liked him, hell, the whole reason he was your handler was that you picked him. The first time you made it to KorTac you clung to his side. His smell was the most calming you had ever come across. Because you refused to leave his side for the first month he was trained to be your handler. As you got used to KorTac and all the members you were finally able to sleep in your own room and not in König’s.
In the showers, you were happy to see that it was completely evacuated. I mean, it should be. Everyone was training, being trained, or working out. You place your shower items in the shower and turn on the water. Although you were coming here to take a cold shower you absolutely hated the idea of cold water so you were just going to take a hot shower and hope the problem went away on its own.
You step into the warm water and let out a sigh as all the tension leaves your body. You take some shampoo in your palm and rub it into your scalp. You couldn’t help but remember when König had showered you when you were too scared to be alone on base. His hands in your hair, his smell so close to you. Your cock twitches and you groan. You decide to take this matter into your own hands, literally and figuratively. As you place your hands on your throbbing cock you let out a small whimper. You bite your lip to try and be quiet as you thrust into your hands. You try to imagine that your hands were König’s calloused hands, that he was talking you through it.
“Just like that Meine Liebe. You’re doing so well Welpe.” You could practically hear him mumble into your ear. Your knees tremble and you let out a small whine mumbling his name as you felt yourself getting close.
“(Y/N)? Are you in here? Are you okay?” You hear the man you were just fantasizing about say. You jump and immediately put your back to the shower curtain just in case
“Yes Colonel, I’m alright.” Your face was hot and you could feel yourself trembling.
“Are you hurt Meine Welpe?” You could hear him walk outside of your shower and sit down on the bench next to your shower caddy “I could hear you whimpering from outside.”
You take a deep breath “Y-Yes Colonel, I’m fine, I promise.” your words dripping with embarrassment
“I heard you call out my name, are you sure?” König said. You could practically hear the smirk on his face. He knew. He knew and he wanted you to say what you were doing.
You let out a shaky breath “C-Colonel…”
König laughs “kleiner Welpe, Would you like my help?.”
You feel yourself shiver “H-Huh?!” shock courses through your body but your cock jumps. You can hear the sound of clothes being removed
“Would you like me to join you kleiner Welpe? Like good old times?” He says referring to the times you had taken showers together as handler and mutant. You can hear something in his voice, you don’t know what it is just yet.
You let out a small whimper “Please?” as the shower curtain opens your tail tucks between your legs in embarrassment. You could hear König chuckle and wrap his arms around your waist
“mein kleiner Welpe.” He mumbles as he kisses your neck “I have been dreaming of you. Not as a handler and mutant, but as more.” You can feel your face flush a deep red.
“C-Colonel” You start but König covers your mouth
“It’s König from here on out Schatz.” He says as he continues kissing your neck. You whimper and feel one of his hands trail down to your cock.
“Look how hard you are, alles für mich.” he kisses behind your ears “alles für mich.” He keeps your mouth covered as he starts pumping your cock licking and sucking on the area where you usually had your collar. Your moans and whimpers get caught in his hands and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel his calloused fingers stroke your sensitive skin.
“Feels good Meine Liebe?” He asks between kissing your neck. You nod your head whimpering. You can feel his smirk on your skin “Gut, so gut für mich.” You squeeze your eyes shut as you buck into his hands feeling yourself close. Your whimpers start to get louder and he bites your shoulder
“Shhhh mein guter Welpe. Don’t want anyone else finding us, do you?” He whispers into your ear. You bite your tongue and can feel yourself on the edge. A few more strokes from König and you fall over the edge. Your legs tremble and König lets go of your mouth.
“How do your feel mein Welpe?” You look up at him and look into his eyes taking in his maskless face for the first time. Your eyes take in all his features, the stubble you felt against your skin, his hazel eyes, the eyeblack running down his porcelain skin, and his long brown hair.
“Why did you help me C-König?” you ask confusion written on your face
König smiles and kisses your cheek “Because I’ve fallen for mein Welpe. I know a bad way to confess, but when I heard my name pathetically falling from your lips, I just had to come and help.”
You smile and your tail starts wagging, thumping against the shower walls.
König laughs “Lets hurry up meine Welpe. Don’t want to miss the meeting now, do we?”
You nod and stand up grabbing your conditioner. König grabs your Shampoo “I hope you don’t mind if I use your products. I didn’t plan on taking a shower now.”
You smile and laugh “Go right ahead König, I don’t mind.”
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joelsgreys · 2 days
Text
(late) wip wednesday
thank you for the tags beautiful angels 💕 @alltheirdamn @mermaidgirl30 @mothandpidgeon @luxurychristmaspudding @atticrissfinch @sawymredfox @loliwrites
here are a couple of the wips i am actively working on. all of these are subject to be edited in the final draft.
i really need to do a palate cleanse with another pedro boy, jesus. joel just rots my brain 24/7, okay?
chapter one of secondhand smoke - dbf! joel miller x reader
“Listen to me. S’not your responsibility to fix him—” “Mr. Miller, please. I really don’t want to talk about this with you anymore,” you whisper, your bottom lip quivering as hot tears of frustration glaze over your eyes and threaten to fall. Afraid you will crumble to pieces in front of him, you hastily unbuckle your seatbelt and gather the plastic bags at your feet with shaking hands. “I need to get inside and get dinner started before he gets home.” Shoving open the door, you begin to shuffle out of his truck with your groceries in tow when he reaches out and wraps a large, warm hand around your wrist, his calluses rough against the softness of your skin. “Wait.” “I said I don’t want to talk about this anymore—” “Just give me one more second of your time. I’ll make it quick.” Releasing you, he reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulls out a small stack of business cards. He offers one to you and says, “Here’s my card. It’s got my personal cell phone number there under the office number. If y’need anythin’ at all, don’t hesitate to call me, alright? Don’t matter what time it is. Day or night, I promise you I’ll answer.” Just as you open your mouth to protest, Joel shoots you a pleading look.  “Please, darlin’. I’ll rest a whole lot easier if you just take it.”
run - raider/dark! joel miller x reader
You clutch fistfuls of the single, stale sheet underneath you, each stroke delivered knocking the wind from your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe. His cock stretches you, and you swear you can feel him in your belly, a fullness you can’t get seem to get enough of. “Daddy,” you choke, fisting the sheet harder, your skin stretching thin and tight over your knuckles. Even when it’s too much, somehow, it’s not enough. Your swollen cunt drools for him, begs him for more. Always begs him for more.
the gold room - dbf joel miller x stripper! reader (i have not forgotten about this bad boy, i promise.)
“Wait, ain’t there cameras in these rooms?” “Mhm,” you nod, sighing contentedly as his teeth scrape their way down to the swell of your breast. “One in every corner. For the safety of the dancers. Security watches them all night long.” He lifts his head and raises an eyebrow at you. “Ain’t we gonna get in trouble?”  “Nope. I bring in customers who pay top dollar every single night just for five minutes of my company.” There’s a glimmer of pride in your eyes. “Therefore, I can do whatever the hell I want. And they watch me do it.” Smirking, you slither off his lap and down onto the floor, your knees sinking into the plush carpet as you position yourself between his legs and place a hand over his belt buckle. Fucking Christ. There would be surveillance footage of this? He knows he should stop this—he should stop you. But all he can do is watch you with a slack jaw as you slide the leather out of the metal buckle and reach for the button of his jeans.
np tags! as always, i’m late to the party so apologies if you’ve already been tagged/have already done this. but hey, if ya wanna do it again, i say go for it <33 @joelsdagger @mrsmando @missredherring @beardedjoel @pascalssbabyy @ozarkthedog @penvisions @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @stargirlfics @strang3lov3 @janaispunk
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