#i just keep avoiding everything and bending and twisting

[peachesofteal]

Oh god - I’m still stuck on this.

18+ MDNI / explicit sex, dark and twisted themes

I've been thinking a lot about Simon Riley who doesn't want the divorce.

Simon who never wanted to be separated, who hates living apart. Simon, who would drag you to a tattoo artist to get your ring permanently inked to your skin so you could never be rid of him, if he could. He’s been actively avoiding the stack of papers that are waiting for his signature, staying on longer Ops, picking up extra work.

Can’t be divorced if there’s no signature.

Simon, who unbeknownst to you, still comes home. Still pushes open the back door in the dead of night, keeping his steps silent so he doesn't wake you. Simon, who stands in the doorway of your bedroom, his old bedroom, and watches you sleep on his side of the bed in those little, ratty shorts with your ass perked up in the air like you're waiting for him. Like you’re ripe, and ready.

Simon, who checks your birth control every night. Who’s pleased when he realizes this month’s pack hasn’t even been opened, every color coded pill still in place, foil glinting at him in the low light of the vanity.

Good girl, he thinks to himself, shutting your medicine cabinet with a silent click. Getting yourself all ready for him.

Simon, who agrees to meet you for dinner.

"Let's just sign and get it over with. We can catch up, too. Talk about what we want to do with the house."

"Alright, love. Whatever you want."

You're a bundle of nerves when he shows up, seated at a little table in the back, glass of wine already half gone.

Normally, he'd try to soothe you. You've always been naturally anxious, a little dependent, and in a social setting, a little high strung. He's well versed in navigating your emotions, calming you into a relaxed state with a few words or a reassuring touch.

But this time, he doesn't bother. He sits there with his arms crossed, watching you nervously chatter away, one hand flat on a manilla envelope. He stays quiet, letting you go on, watching your hands seek something to do, fingers finding your wine glass over and over.

You drink two glasses of wine before the entrees are served, dangerously close to your usual self imposed "three drink" limit.

One thing bleeds into another. You start to lean a little, in your chair. He nurses a bourbon, you order a shot after the meal.

"Want one?" Your tongue follows the seam of the lime wedge, dabbing along the spongy, white fibers before your teeth sink into the flesh of it, lime juice squirting across your tongue.

“You know I don’t like tequila, but you go on.”

You’re a bit sloppy by the time he gets you home, but still sweet like honey, like you used to be years ago. Before everything changed. Before you asked him to move out.

You’re giggly, excited when he bends you over the kitchen table, the kitchen table where you used to eat together, breakfast for dinner when he’d come home, waffles and bacon at one in the morning.

You don’t protest when he slides your skirt down your hips and over your ass, thumbs spreading you wide to reveal your glistening cunt, twitching and desperate.

“My poor girl, has it been so long?” He cooed, relishing in the way you moaned with your lips on the wood. He knows it has, knows you haven’t been with anyone since the last time he fucked you, months and months ago, on the night you asked for the divorce. “Don’t worry, I’m gon’ take care of you and this neglected little pussy.”

“You have to pull out.” You slurred, breath hot, fogging against the finish of the table. “Promise.” He grunts something under his breath, nonsense, but you can’t tell the difference, and when he slides inside your scorching cunt, you howl, breath hitching with the stretch.

Bleedin’ Christ. You’re so tight, so wet, soaked enough that it sticks to the curls around the base of his cock. How could he ever give this up?

“That’s it.” He kisses your shoulder, pressing his chest to your back with his weight, pinning you in place, his hands clamping down around your wrists like shackles. “Squeeze me tight, good girl. Show me-“ Show me how you’re going to hold my come in your tight little pussy once I fill you- comes to mind, but he bites his tongue instead, not willing to tip you off too soon.

To have and to hold.

“Simooon.” You sing, hips start to push back with him, fucking yourself onto his cock, chasing him, chasing your pleasure, mouth half open with the little pants and whines that are music to his ears. He keeps you pinned, flat against the table, fingers between your legs, stroking your clit, shoving you closer to your orgasm, delightfully pleased by the way your pussy pulses around him.

“Come on.” He urges, big hand between you and the table, pressing against your lower belly, still tapping away at your clit, indulging in the trembling of your legs.

“Fuck- fuck, Si.” You cry, clenching down around him with your orgasm, voice breaking.

“There it is… what a good girl.” He hisses, keeping his pace, pushing deeper and deeper until he’s notching himself nearly inside your womb. It’s overwhelming for you, he knows, but he doesn’t stop swirling his fingers around your clit, zapping electric pulses through body.

“Nngh Si. Too- ooh it’s- it’s too much.” You wail, a tear on your cheek, and he nods, nosing above your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, so perfect.” It’s whispered with a groan, hands stroking your hip, keeping your steady, in place. “Just need a little more, just- just a little, I’m gonna-“

“What-” You ask, more with it now that you recognize the edge he’s riding, the roughness in his voice clueing you in to where he is, but he sends you back into orbit, pressing your clit and working you in circles. “Oh, oh.” Your hips rock, and he moves with the momentum, fucking into you faster, grunting the truth as he speeds towards the cliff, desperate to drive the car over the edge, eager to change the course of his life, your life, his marriage.

“Take it.” He spits, wide palm spread across your shoulder. Everything in him tightens, fire spreading through his veins, pressure rising in his body like a fucking tea kettle, about to scream out a whistle. He’s going to breed you, fuck you deep with his come and put a baby inside you, give you what you wanted years ago, the thing that made you cry alone in the middle of the night whenever he refused.

Well, he’s going to give it to you now.

“Fuck- here it comes.” You rock again, half lost to the world, eyes glazed over in pleasure, spasming around his cock with your second orgasm. He slams into you, burying deep and you keen, fingers gripping the edge of the table, his hips flush with yours like a lock.

And he’ll throw away the key.

His phone dings with a text, two days later.

“Still mad at you… Can we please meet up about these signatures?”

This became a full fic here.

#tw dark and twisty #tw forced pregnancy #🥞 anon #if you’re out there somewhere #this is for us #simon riley #simon riley x reader #I could write a whole fic #but I prob won’t #could prob be a sassy au honestly #peaches writes

[thehighladywrites]

- “if it is so wrong, why does it feel so good?”

pairing: stalker/perv!azriel x reader, nesta, elain and feyre mentioned

summary: stalking and perving is azriel’s favorite activities. What happens when you finally drop the oblivious mask and confront him

warnings: dark content, stalking, perving (on literally everyone), breaking and entering, stealing panties, az having a darker side, getting turned on by your fear, az eating you out, reader being bold and hot as fuck omg,

amara’s note: okay this is very short bc it’s my first time writing a dark fic. Also i hope you like it and pls read the warnings.

Azriel knows he is some sort of sick freak. He knows he should resist his sinful glances at Feyre when she's cozied up on Rhysand's lap. He flexes a little extra just to spark Nesta's desires, fully aware of her fantasies. And as for Elain, well, let's just say he's playing a forbidden game of spying while she bends over to plant her greens.

Azriel's is extremely aware he shouldn't be harboring forbidden desires or indulging in the secret pleasure of stalking someone as seemingly innocent as yourself.

Azriel, the ultimate mastermind, keeps everyone guessing. Who would suspect the quiet, brooding and publicly respected spymaster to be a closeted perv and sick stalker? It's his most guarded secret hidden beneath the intimidating exterior.

Little does Azriel know, you're fully aware of his perverse behavior—his wandering eyes and spying shadows. It surprises you that no one has figured him out yet; after all, it seems quite apparent, doesn't it?

You don’t miss his lurking shadows following you around for hours. A regular fae would’ve missed it but not you. You’ve grown accustomed to him and his ways. You know him better than anyone else and you definitely know of his stalker tendencies.

Azriel believes he's smooth, avoiding outright ogling. Instead, he strategically glances at you during training with Cassian and while sharpening his weapons, subtly appreciating the way your body moves.

Pervert azriel walks up to you, complimenting your form, claiming while it’s good there’s something you need to fix. You don’t mind if he needs to grab your waist while fixing your pose right? And of course you’ll excuse him if he accidentally brushes against your boobs and ass. I mean he just wants to help you perfect your form!

He watches you walking through Velaris from the shadows, always hiding one of his shadows with you. He tells himself that he does it for your safety. Who knows, you might be attacked and he needs to be ready.

He absolutely doesn’t want to hear how much of a hypocrite he is for also stalking you in the safety of your home aswell.

Azriel steals your panties, silently breaking into your room as he looks through your drawers, skimming through the collection of panties. He promises himself it’s the last time, though he’s made the same pledge seven times before.

Azriel's stalking tendencies lead him to roam through your belongings, touching everything to become familiar with your world. He goes to your vanity, picking up your perfumes, and indulges in the forbidden pleasure of smelling the one thing he desires most—you.

Lying in your bed, his head on your pillow, he starts shifting in the sheets, inhaling more of your scent. He revels in the trespass and wrongness of being in your bed, knowing that you might catch a hint of his own scent lingering there, a twisted thought crossing his mind that it could confuse, frighten, or even arouse you.

His cock swells at the thought of you scared, heart beating fast, trying to place who the scent belongs to.

He looks around and finds one of your shirts on the bed and picks it up to his nose.

Then he does the one thing he swore he would never stoop to. He pulls out his already hard cock and strokes it while inhaling your scent from the shirt.

—

He has timed you and learned your schedule hence why he now knows that you’ll be in the shower for the next twenty minutes, giving him the perfect opportunity for his perverse activities. He’ll pick up the laciest most intricate pair, keeping it in his room as some sort of trophy with the other stuff he has taken from you. No one can enter into his room anyways, it’s safe…

Pervert Azriel looks through the little crack in your door as you stand there posing infront of a mirror while wearing pretty much nothing. A lacy little lingerie set as you touch your body, hands traveling all over your tits, waist, ass then up through your hair as you spin around, admiring yourself.

You know Azriel is standing at your door, he isn’t really all that subtle with his hand down his pants as he jerks off at the sight of you.

It’s almost enough to make your eyes roll back into the back of your head, fucking gods, he’s pathetic.

You wanted to fuck him for the longest time. He could just ask you to fuck and you’d say yes yet here he is thinking he’s slick as he pervs on you. Even with all that in mind, there’s a sick, twisted adrenaline rush spreading through your body at the thought of the esteemed and highly respected spymaster doing something so dark and wrong like this.

“I know you're there, Az. Come out,” you say, a wicked smile forming on your face as you plot to utterly humiliate him.

His entire body freezes and Azriel cautiously emerges from the shadows, realizing he's been caught. You maintain that mischievous grin, ready to unleash your plan. The air thickens with anticipation as the confrontation unfolds.

“Az?”

He looks like he’s about to jump out of the nearest window as he looks at you through the mirror.

“Yes?”

“Why are you such a disgusting little pervert? Here I am trying on some clothes and you’re just perving on me. How do you think that makes me feel? I mean I could be super afraid and you wouldn’t have any remorse? Who does something like that?”

Azriel's face heats up at the mocking question, flushing as he tries to respond.

“Az, I asked you a question,” you assert, walking over to him. His embarrassment is palpable as he apologizes, rambling about not knowing what came over him, begging you not to tell anyone.

You already know the answer, and a knowing smile plays on your lips as he seeks forgiveness.

“You’ve done a very bad thing, Azriel. Bad people deserve to be punished. You of all people understand that, right?”

Pushing him back onto one of the sofas in your room, you creep closer, leaning over to whisper. Looking down at him, you place your hand on his cheek, letting your nails dig in a little.

“I think you deserved to be punished.”

Azriel's heart raced, fearing exposure for his hidden activities. Was this it? Would you punish him by revealing his actions to everyone?

Before he could plead for forgiveness, you stood up, walking back to your bed and beckoning him over with two fingers.

As he approached, ready to sit, you extended your leg, placing your foot on his stomach, halting him in his tracks..

“Not so fast,” you assert, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “The bed is reserved for me. You can kneel on the floor.”

Azriel complies, gracefully sinking to his knees. His gaze meets yours, his beautiful eyes revealing a mixture of submission and desire.

“You’re going to eat my pussy. If you manage to make me cum, I won’t tell anyone about your disgusting behavior, understand?”

He couldn't believe what was unfolding. Was he really about to taste you? About to experience the fantasy he'd daydreamed about every single day? He nods, but a disapproving tsk follows.

“I need more than a nod, Azriel. Do you understand?”

A quick, “Yes, I understand,” escapes his lips.

You can't help but smile at the swiftness of his compliance.

“That’s good. Now, I’ll be taking off my bra and panties and they’re very expensive and new so they better not go missing.”

Azriel affirms his understanding and then proceeds to drool over the way you slowly strip infront of him before you spread your legs and tell him to start.

He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to the edge as he dips his head down to run his tounge up and down your slit, tasting you before playing with your clit.

You gasp in pleasure, letting out moans as your hands find their way to his hair, urging him to keep going.

Azriel’s hands dig into your thighs that are currently smushing his head. He decides to let you continue, telling himself that if he dies like this, he'd go down as the happiest person in history.

“T-that’s it, right there.”

A breathy moan escapes your lips as you feel two of his fingers enter you. Your hands grab his dark soft hair as he started pumping his fingers, relishing at the way your soaking cunt is squelching and squeezing him.

You whimper at the way his thick fingers strecth you out then curl against that secret spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You start to slowly fuck yourself on them, eager for more of him.

“You taste even better than I imagined, fuck.”

His desperate voice only spurred you on.

It doesn’t take much longer for that feeling to build up in your stomach, the tight cord eventually snapping. You squeeze and throb around his fingers as you cum hard, letting out whines and mumbles.

Azriel helps you ride out your high, memorizing every facial expression in case this is the last time you ever let him this close again.

He pulls out his fingers and lick them clean then goes back and licks your pussy clean.

You let out a giggle at the sight before you, casting him a look of fake sympathy as you pull yourself together.

“Well, look at that. Seems like I’ll be keeping your secret after all. I mean, what a shame to loose such a good little pussy eater, right? I might just keep you around.”

You beckon him to rise, tossing your underwear onto the sofa before heading to the bathroom to clean up.

Glancing back at his flushed face and heavy breathing, you offer a secret smile.

“Who knows, next time I might even let you fuck me.”

Turning around, you leave him to his thoughts as the shower starts.

Azriel stands there for a moment, his desire evident. Unable to resist, he takes your panties and bra, always craving something of yours.

He promises to himself that he won't do it for an eighth time before hurrying back to his room, to finally help himself

🏷️ taglist: @stasiereads @clairebear08 @daycourtofficial @historiaxvanserra @rowaelinsdaughter @acourtofladydeath @acourtofwhatthefuck @redbleedingrose @danikamariewrites @readychilledwine @nocasdatsgay

#talkswithamara #acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acowar #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel x female!reader #azriel x fem reader #acotar fanfic #acotar series #acotar fanfiction #tw dark themes #stalker #perv!az

[ghouljams]

Fae someone giving a diamond to their darling and she’s freaking out and they’re like ??? It’s just a silly shiny something

Ok, maybe not a diamond but Fae!Price does shit like this to his witch all the time, menace that he is. She is desperately trying to keep up on repaying him.

"What is that?" You ask, staring at the red resinous cubes that Price is holding out to you on a neat black handkerchief. Your hands are actually starting to shake a little just from seeing it.

"Socotra sap," He says so easily you think he's fucking with you. Your fingers reach out to touch it, reverent.

"Dragon blood I- how did you get your hands on-" You shake your head, pull your hand away, "What is it? A gift? A- a boon?" You wrack your mind for anything you have to repay him for this.

"It doesn't have to be anything," He tugs a string on the edge of the handkerchief and it folds up like a bag. The hard red sap disappearing from view before he holds the offering out to you.

"Everything is something," You say carefully, "What-" You bite your tongue before you can ask a dangerous question, before your greed can get the better of you. What does he want for it? It's magically valuable, you both know that, but you don't think Price has any use for it.

He raises a brow at your silent hesitation, leans against the threshold of your garden. "You're turning it down?" His deep voice jogs you from your thoughts. No, you know turning down his gift has the potential to be worse than accepting it. You just need to repay him.

"No," You tell yourself firmly, "No, it's a very kind gift I just need you to wait here a moment."

Price blinks, but nods. He's more than willing to wait for you, after all that's the only thing he's been doing. Waiting for you to stumble over something so he can pick up a piece of you. He's interested to see what you repay him with. Truth be told the only thing this resin is good for is-

"You smoke right?" You ask, settling jars and various strange books on the wall, "Cigars?"

Ah, that's cute. You remembered. He grins, and sets the bag in your outstretched hand. It's fun watching you pull caps off of jars and sniff them, tugging notated paper free from one of the books as you fish chalk out of your pocket to draw a hasty circle on the wall. He leans close as you bend over the circle to work, smelling the soft floral notes of your shampoo. You make his mouth water.

"You make a lot of cigars?" He asks, instead of biting you when you lean through the threshold. You hum, head bobbing from side to side as you partition out tobacco on leaves.

"Not recently, but I had a client that liked to smoke them before court." Price isn't usually one to envy other men, but God does he feel it licking like fire at his ribs.

"Had?" You nod, opening a jar of sparse white flowers and red roots.

"Wife killed him," you break off a few pieces of the dried root and put it in a little rock bowl. Seemingly too distracted to care about the fantastic story you were avoiding.

"Really," he asks, you're so lovely up close like this, both of you leaning against the brick wall. You look up at him through your lashes with a small smile.

"Nope," you twist your pestle against the root, grinding the root down into a powder, "he decided to quit smoking." You look back at your work, grabbing another bottle. It looks like another root, but at least he knows the flower this time, morning glory. What are you cooking up there?

"I've missed making these." You smile at your work, opening the dragon's blood satchel and breaking a piece off to add to the mortar mixture. Your fingers are so deft, purposeful as you grind the roots and resin down.

He'd love those pretty little fingers to wrap around his cock. Would you even know what to do when they did? Would your nose scrunch up in concentration like it did now, your lips parted just enough to pout as you worked? Oh pretty little witch, would you get on your knees for him and beg?

"You will, " he mumbles. You hum questioningly, glancing at him as he hums back. You must not think it's important enough to question further, must not want to break your precious intent. Witches are always so fond of their focus.

You sprinkle your mixture over the filler tobacco, careful as you combine the two and start rolling the cigar. No, cigars, you portioned out for two. Smart girl, weighing your own value for the gift against your talents. You twist the end of the wrapper, and swipe your finger on an open tin before running it along the end of the wrapper to seal it. You do the same on the other end to cap it.

Price takes the finished cigar when you offer it, watching you work on the second one. It smells good, heady and resinous, and something else. "What's it supposed to do?" He isn't an expert on the herbal fuckery you witches do.

"Hex breaker, command spell, decent smoke," you list, half paying attention to him as you finish your spell, "they need to dry for a day or so, try not to smoke them until then."

Price hums, you keep your focus on your work and not on the way he inspects your gift. His thick fingers twisting the cigar between them, the soft sizzle of evaporating water. You know magic when you hear it, wild magic your grandmother used to call it. The kind you'd never hope to have.

You should hang up additional wards before he lights either of these. There's no telling what a debtor might do with this extra kick, not to mention one who seems set on you. You hold out the second cigar, you don't feel any extra weight from a tether.

"Fair trade," Price tells you, you'd have thought he'd be annoyed but he almost sounds pleased. "Now run along back inside like a good little girl, I know you want to put your new toy away."

You really do, too. You lick your thumb and rub out part of the chalk circle, breaking it easily before you gather your things to take back inside. You're positively brimming with spells that could use a little kick of dragon's blood.

"I'll bring you something nicer tomorrow," Price warns you, you don't hear him as you close the door.

Herbs used: Tobacco, bloodroot, dragon's blood sap, morning glory root

#Busted out my grimoire to make Price's cigars #congrats to his witch for making a really powerful hex breaker that also is a love spell #also a really powerful control spell which was her intent #giving her fae more power was not a smart idea but she was moderately panicking #oh Price is going to be such a fucking showoff with his fancy cigars the other fae boys hate him so much lol #captain john price #captain price #john price mw2 #john price x reader #fae!price #cod x reader #cod x y/n #john price #x reader

[ickadori]

Getou takes pride in his hair.

He has a very meticulous process, and it’s possible he took it a bit too serious, but the results were worth it in his eyes, especially with the way you fawned over the onyx strands, gushing as you so frequently ran your hands through the healthy locks.

“It’s so long and pretty, Suguru!”

“It feels so much softer, did you use something different?”

“Your hair always smells so good, Suguru, I love it.”

Your praises and compliments never fail to make him hide a grin in the crook of his elbow, and he finds himself researching different hair tips more often than not to keep the praises coming. But as serious as he takes the health of his own hair, he takes yours even more seriously.

“Ow, Suguru, that hurts.” You complain as he brings the comb through your hair, and he lowly tsks, reaching to grab a few more pumpfuls of conditioner before lathering it into your wet hair.

“It wouldn’t hurt if you didn’t let it get so tangled,” he resumes the de-tangling process, making sure to start at the ends and work his way up to the roots. “And it wouldn’t get so tangled if you let me comb it every day instead of leaving it in those damn buns.” You dramatically groan when he snags on a kink, and he sets the comb down to instead work it out with his fingers, carefully parting the strands to get it out.

“I thought you liked my buns.”

“I do.” He liked whatever style you decided to put in your hair for the day. A simple bun, sometimes two, curled, straight, crinkled, braided, plaited, even when you slapped a hat on. It was cute, everything you did was, really. “But I don’t like when you let your hair get like this.”

The section he had been working on is finally tangle free, and deft fingers quickly part and twist three strands into a tight plait before he’s moving onto the next section. He starts off with his fingers, and then he follows up with the comb, only to switch back when your complaints get too loud.

“Can we take a break?”

“No.”

“Suguru.” You tilt your head back to look up at him from where you’re sat between his legs, a cushion underneath you, and he sighs through his nose at the sight of your wet lashes. He nearly gives in, but he remembers that he already has, four times, and that’s why the two of you are still sat here hours later.

“No, now turn around so I can finish.”

He resumes, taking care to avoid snags as best he can, and using his fingers instead of the comb when the tangles aren’t too bad. He periodically checks on you, leaning over so he can see into your face, and you always answer his silent inquiry with a scowl that he chuckles at each time.

When he nears the front, he has you tilt your head back so it rests in his lap, forcing you to look up at him. He pays no mind to the water that seeps into the fabric of his sweats, instead intensely focused on separating the strands. He’s acutely aware that you’re most sensitive at the edges of your hairline, and he tries his best to be as gentle as he can, working slowly.

By the time he’s finished you’ve dozed off, and he lets an unbridled smile spread across his face at the sight of you. You’re lightly snoring, lips parted and lashes brushing against the tops of your cheeks, and he bends to press a kiss to your open mouth.

You don’t stir, and he does it again, and again, until your nose is twitching and your eyes are blinking open. “Suguru?” You yawn, and he moves to kiss your nose. “You’re done?” He hums in confirmation, and with a final kiss to your forehead he’s straightening up, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your temples.

“Just gotta wash it now.” You sigh and relax against him. “Then I’ll blow dry and you can style.”

“Hm,” you purse your lips. “Maybe I’ll do buns again.” He pinches at your cheek, and you squeal out a laugh as you bat his hand away.

“It doesn’t matter what you choose to do, really. I’m gonna sweat it out either way.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

#getou x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

[cookie-crumblr]

The Smell of Smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 4~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch,little slut ), BULLY, gagging, extreme violence against reader, branding, burning, oral on ml, spitting, choking, water boarding, p in v, breeding kink themes, collars (i think all above is still non-con) DRUGGING(SO SORRY I FORGOT OMG)

“Name’s Ace! by the way, I mean…” Ace fumbles with his fingers and his hair for an awkward amount of time before speaking again. “Um… Y/N…” He takes a deep breath finally deciding to get to his point, “Stay away from my brother. I mean— like— please!”

“I wasn’t trying to be anywhere near the guy, he’s just… everywhere.” You sigh.

“I… I know… You have to keep trying though! I-It’s not that he’s a bad person… He just…” He makes a motion to your damaged person to demonstrate what he’s trying to say. “Anyway, I’ll get ya outta here and home safe, but you have to promise me at least eventually that you’ll stay away from us.”

(Changes how the future parts of SOS will play out)

Ace’s warning did little to change your future. Your present…

You washed your face in the bathroom at school.

That was all.

All you did to deserve this.

Ezra holds your face under the faucet and painfully smushed against the porcelain.

He shoves you harder against it suddenly, it twists your neck.

“Take it, bitch.” He uses his other arm to motion something behind your back. “Hold her. You, strip her.”

Other hands take the place of his against your head.

You hear a flame, “N-No!No!NoNonoNo!” you babble.

“Shut her up.” He motions to them with his shoulder. His hands are occupied, holding a blow torch in one, and a brand in the other.

You shake and struggle violently against them, one stuffs something into your mouth, and another breaks your leg by kicking in your knee.

You scream into the gag, and that isn’t even the worst pain you’ll get to experience today.

Ezra presses the red hot metal to your, now still, lower thigh.

The agony is immeasurable.

It feels like an eternity, but

You black out from it instantly.

You aren’t in a hospital when you wake this time.

It’s more like…

A prison. or, a detention center.

Your leg is set right, and your burns are being properly treated. The environment could be cleaner, but you seem… Safe.

“He’s coming down,” some guys guarding the cells say as they get into position.

Ezra comes down the stairs, you can hear him before you see him.

“When’s she gon’ wake up”

“Not for another hour or so…” someone pipes up.

His foot thumps come closer and closer until, he’s within your bed’s upright position’s view.

“She looks awake t’me.” He takes the man’s skull in his hands and slams it into the glass. His face comes closer as if to say something—

“Wait!! Wait! Ezra!! I literally just woke up!! Don’t!” You jump to your feet and the monitors buzz and screech. Your leg hurts.

“Get in there and stop her.” He opens the door and throws the man in.

He lights a cigarette as he stares holes into you.

The other guys grab you and force you back into bed. the “doctor” quickly and effectively, sets everything back into place.

You don’t have any fight left to try anything.

Ezra gets them all to leave before coming in to see you up close.

He tilts your head up roughly and bends down to kiss you without saying a word.

You let it happen, too tired to resist, though a fire builds in your core.

It almost burns, and then, he pulls away.

“You’ll need time to adjust, and heal.” He says as he stands back up.

“Adjust?”

“Yeah. Like new schedule ‘n shit. You’re… Under my protection now.” He rolls up his sleeves, “You have t’ adjust t’ this too.”

“To wha—” His dick is shoved into your mouth, wetness pools from the intrusion.

Hands in your hair forcing your nose bent up, and pressing tight against his body.

You choke around his girth. “Your mouth already forgot about this cock, I’m hurt” He throws his head back as he starts to fuck your face. Only bringing it back down, to stare at your big watery eyes.

His scowl deepens as he fucks you harder. “Don’t waste any.” He spits on you, as he cums down your throat.

“Turn tha fuck around, bitch, and crawl.”

You do as you’re told, looking back at him a couple of times and catching his lingering glances.

“I’m only gonna give you my fingers right now, and you’re gonna cum f’ me. Gotit, bitch?”

You nod.

Your legs shake, as he starts to stroke your lips. his thumb is teasing your entrance while his two fingers pinch and glide over your clit.

“Mm ah!!” You cry out, the dull throngs of pain from your leg injuries adding to you’re pleasures intensity.

“Good little slut” He fucks you harder and harder with just his fingers on the outside and his thumb not even inside you. You come completely undone on his hand.

He buckles a thick collar with a leash around your neck and ties it around a metal post.

“Mmf, actually, I might cum in you again,” His voice is so much deeper and hungrier than you’ve ever heard in anyone.

“Hah! ahh! haah haa!” You moan in rhythm of his thrusts.

*plap plap plap plap*

He stripped completely naked to fuck you.

This man goes all out.

He’s holding you by your arms, and he shot you up with morphine.

Your body burns so bad and you don’t even know how many times you’ve came.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed and folds your legs to your chest and into a mating press.

“Don’t fuckin’ waste this—“ He thrusts in harder, “I don’t cum ‘n sluts”

“Oof!” He’s knocking all the wind from your lungs as he pounds into your womb. “hu-huh!?”

*Plap — Plap — Plap!*

“AH!!” Your body shakes, and at the same time he reaches for some duct tape nearby, as he pulls out he wipes himself clean and presses his cum back into you.

He then puts the strip of it right over your cunt.

“Don’t have too much fun with that, ‘n you better not get fucking pregnant, bitch.” He disappears out the doors again, and you’re left a high and confused mess.

#my oc #yandere #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere x reader #yandere x you #my fic #tw yandere #dead dove do not eat #yandere bully #bully oc x you #bully oc x reader #bully yandere x reader #bully yandere #bully x victim #bully x reader #bully oc #yandere bully oc #oc ezra #bully

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey I hope this ask is okay for you if not just delete it I just saw the twst finds out mc is a girl pool party edition and it reminded me of a water gun I have the you need to "power up" and it honestly just looks like jerking someone of so what if at a pool party something like that happens and mc accidently does things that could be interpreted sexual like struggling to get out of the pool and bending over and shit love your blog sweetie I'm binge reading atm basically ❤

I'm glad your enjoying it

🖤🖤🖤

Pool Party Edition: Charging Up | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Yes Yes! During the water gun fight especially but all throughout every thing you do has sexual implications. It's all about who can pick up on it and has immediate reactions; either way they are having a blast. 

Ace Trappola

“You can jerk it better than that can’t ya?”

He’s watching the way you charge up this water gun with a blushy smirk

And suddenly Ace is adamant to stay waist-deep in the water

But he’s egging you on 

Personally making it so that you need to keep charging up your gun

He’s having a blast watching you bounce and bite your lip as you struggle to keep up with everything

He’s so overconfident he’s willing to call you his already

“There is nothing more satisfying than watching my girl pump one out for me.”

Sebek Zigvolt

“YOU-YOU HARLOT! T-TO DISPLAY SUCH ASSETS IN THE COMPANY OF MEN IS OUTRAGEOUS!”

You were just pulling yourself out of the pool

And like everyone else was doing he had his eyes glued to the way the water was dripping over your curves as you came out of the pool

Your just getting out of the pool but he can’t stop the fierce blush thats burning on his face

He’s weak in his knees as he comes over to you with a towel

Some say he was trying to catch a feel as he let his shaky hands wrap your towel around you 

Grazing against the plush of your breast with the back of his hand has him collapsing 

“Oh goodness! Sebek are you okay?”

“HAH–HAH–WI-WAKA–WHOO!”

He’s not he’s an absolute mess

Idia Shroud

“This is the picture of a life time! I can die happy now!”

Genuinely excited that he was able to watch and take pictures

He’s not pleased your surrounded by extroverts 

But he never would have gotten the souvenir he did if he didn’t come

Or the visuals to satiate him later+

He watches you drink down your water bottle, parched from the Scarabia heat

That alone has him sweating gallons more than his hoodie is doing

“Eh? Idia, are you okay? Here, have some of my water. You have to stay hydrated!”

“T-thanks!”

Oh he means it 

He can hardly avoid not licking his lips and rubbing the part that had your lips on it against his growing erection

In a way, he’s drunk on you

So drunk he starts losing his semblance of the environment

“S-surely no one will notice if I rub one out here right?! They’ll understand won’t they I just can barely take it!”

Jack Howl

“Whoo your turn Jack! Get in there!”

“R-r-right!”

The feeling of your wet body pushing against the wolf that was trying to calm down

He’s trying so hard

So hard he probably was trying to look away to try and calm down

But to make it worse orevenbetter+ the feeling of your boobs and hands pressing on his muscular back

Who’s to say you both aren’t preening at the squeeze you give as you call to him

His tail is making tornadoes in the pool

He can’t help it your simply irresistible

He knows what your wearing is a normal bathing suit 

He knows but he can’t help but wish this were only for him

So he’ll play bodyguard if one of your straps mysteriously snaps off

“No worries (Y-y/n) I’ll block you from everyone…”

#yandere ace trappola #yandere jack howl #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere idia shroud #yandere ace x reader #yandere jack x reader #yandere idia x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere sebek #yandere twst

[inkdrinkerworld]

a change in place

cw: fluff, strangers to lovers, canon level violence, pre-atsv events, blood, needles, mention of food

wc: 3.1k

pairing: miguel o'hara x civilian!reader

It had started as a regular day, regular enough actually. It was raining hard, and your boots were getting wet and then there was a flash of purple, yellow and red and three people fell from the sky.

You were on your way to work, needing to get to work on time this once. The rain has been keeping you back all week- you’re not sure how your boss would take it if you’re late for the fourth time. 

“Make sure you clear the area of civilians!” you hear and quicken your pace. Whatever is going on, you want no part of it. 

You’re speed walking, trying to avoid puddles of water in the cracks on the pavement when a metal appendage is flung in your path. 

“Hey!” you yell, turning to the direction of the body to see the three spider-people tying whoever it is they’ve been fighting with their webs. 

One of them turns to you, black spider eyes blinking at you. There’s a little chill that runs down your arms as he leans his body in your direction, like he wants to hear what it is you have to say. 

“Watch where you’re throwing those limbs around!” you don’t linger for something else to fall in your path, stepping over the limb as you carry on your way. 

There’s commotion behind you, but you’re trying not to look. You don’t want another thing flung at you. 

As it turns out, not looking wasn’t the best decision because you hear a shout and before you know it your umbrella is falling to the ground and your feet are hovering over it as you’re pulled off to an alleyway. 

“Let go of me!” you twist and come face to face with the spider-person you’d reprimanded. “What’s your deal?” 

“Do you go around grabbing every girl by the waist to save them from imminent danger?” 

You can’t see the man’s expression behind his mask, but you assume he isn’t smiling by the tone in his voice, 

“Do you go around telling off Spider-people?” you offer a real smile this time. 

“When they’re not careful, course I do! That arm could’ve taken my head off.” 

They don’t answer; only jut their chin to the villain they’d been webbing bursting through the constraints and is charging down the street, trampling the cars that had been alongside you. 

“Oh,” you gasp, the spider-person putting you down. 

“You could’ve been crushed.” they say and you flash an embarrassed smile as the person stands on the ground. 

Before the man can say any more, there’s a little holographic woman that pops up on his shoulder that makes you gasp. 

“Are you a fairy?” you ask, reaching a hand to the woman in yellow who flits around the man’s shoulders and head.

“Oh no sweetheart. I’m this one’s” her thumb points to the man standing beside you. “AI companion, though I guess AI is a bit wrong, because I do everything for him. He’s a little temperamental.” 

You giggle at her teasing. He grumbles Spanish under his breath. 

“Help him improve his vision, I almost lost my head.” The man wants to argue, but you’re bending down for your umbrella and shaking it. You turn to him, “This was really nice and all but I gotta get to work.” 

He nods, watching you walk off. The woman returns, this time taunting him. “For someone so against love, you sure feel attraction pretty quickly.” 

“Lyla, scan for any more anomalies.” 

-

The next time you see the Spider-people, you’re on your way back from school. It’s late, too late for crime in your city- most everyone is asleep at this time. Except you, and your ten assignments that were due about an hour ago. 

You’ve treated yourself to an Earl Grey tea and three slices of pistachio cake. 

However, the Spider-people are trying to ruin it. You’re not sure since when your city had gotten so many super-villains that they needed to defeat but here they are again. 

“Watch out!” you hear, the man in the red and navy spider suit from the last time comes swooping down, webbing himself to the bakery you’d just left and pushing you back inside. Even the owner is shocked. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you say to him, tucking the hair in your face backwards. 

“We do.” he seems a lot more tense than the last time you’d run into each other. 

“Is this one worse than the ‘Giant Metal Octopus’ from last time?” you’re quoting your local newspaper as you speak. 

He doesn’t say anything to your question, just taps at his wrist before a series of little robots pop out. They look like the prongs of a ‘y’ on a tiny ball. 

“These should keep you safe, don’t leave the panadería till I come back,” there’s no time to even say good luck before he’s gone. 

You turn to the old man as the little robots attach themselves to the door of the bakery, “He was strange, no?” 

It takes hours before they’re done, and after the day you’ve had, you’re barely able to keep your eyes open. 

The large Spider-man comes in, his robots hopping back to his wrists and disappearing in his watch. He addresses the old man first, whispering apologies about keeping him awake so long, to which the man responds with a flick of his wrist. “We all need a protector, right kid?” 

Then he turns to you, “Oye,” you blink owlishly at him as you stand, shoving your pastries into your bag. “How far do you live?” 

You wave off his concern, “Two miles from here, s’not far.” 

He follows after you as you leave the bakery. “If you’re going to walk me back, could I know your name? Just in case you turn psycho-murderer on me ?” 

The man scoffs. You can tell he’s deliberating if he should give you his name and before you can tell ‘nevermind’ he mutters, “Miguel.”

You introduce yourself, “Why did you become Spider-man?” you ask, looking back at the man who’s still in his mask. 

“Wasn’t much of a choice.” 

‘Okaay,’ you think, ‘not big on conversation.’

There’s silence for about twenty paces before you ask, “Why didn’t you go back to wherever you come from, like the other spider-people? Do you have a crush on me?” 

Again he scoffs, and the little woman from last time appears on his shoulder, “Miguel, there’s no more anomaly activity here.” 

“Anomalies? Like things that aren’t supposed to be here?” you ask and Miguel bats at Lyla who looks shocked when she sees you. “Are you supposed to be here?” 

He grumbles and you imagine his lips in a straight line that looks almost comical for someone as big as him. “Yes, I’m supposed to be here.” 

You pout, dramatised and exaggerated, “Here I thought you just kept coming back for me.” 

The little woman in yellow pipes up, “Well, he-” 

Miguel cuts her off, “Lyla, go away.” She does; much to your dismay. 

You stop before your apartment door and Miguel lets out a small chuckle at the door. It’s painted a blue that resembles his suit, and there’s a fairy on the handle. “Not all of us can get to your level of brooding mystery, Miguel.” you say with a bashful smile as you fiddle with the key and the lock. 

“Not judging, it just makes sense.” you hum, reaching into your bag. 

“Do you have nut allergies?” you ask, reaching into the bag as your eyes remain trained to his face to get his answer. 

He shakes his head, ‘no,’ and you brandish one of the slices of cake. 

“Take it,” you say when his hand doesn’t move. “As a token of gratitude.” you say with a performative lovelorn tone. 

Miguel lets another chuckle escape before taking it, “Thanks, coqueta,” his hand makes the slice of cake look foolishly small and that makes your eyes widen a little. You’re not sure if he can tell, but he teases, “Make sure you lock up.” 

You don’t see it but Miguel fights the urge to let one of his nanobots stay on your doorstep camera. 

For no reason really, just to make sure you’re safe. 

-

The next few weeks you delve deep into trying to track him down, trying to get even a crumb of who he is. You come up with nothing and then decide to take a different approach. 

Someone who can make such advanced tech has got to get the information and the funding from somewhere.

Again, you find nothing.

“Who is this man?” you mutter to yourself, chopsticks holding a potsticker near your mouth.

You take a bite just as there’s a knock on your window. Your heart is in your throat and you grab your phone and a knife you have laid on your coffee table. 

The knock sounds again, a little more impatient as you draw closer. As you look up, you spot a familiar red and blue suit and let out a big breath. 

Opening your window, Miguel’s eyes widen at the sight of the knife, “Most women don’t take well to strangers knocking on their window,” you say amused at the way he’s holding himself on your window sill.

“I’m sorry,” then as a second thought he murmurs, “You were asleep.” clearly catching your tired eyes. 

“Not exactly,” you lean towards him and whisper, “Are there anomalies here? Is that why you’re here?” 

Miguel almost cracks a smile at your stage whisper. 

“No, I’m here to give you something.” he pulls a box from his pocket. You’re surprised that his suit can have pockets, it seems stuck to him. 

“What for?” you look up at him, eyebrows drawn low with your teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. 

“Repayment,” Miguel explains, “for the cake.”

You can’t argue when he opens the box and shows you a little pair of fairy wing earrings. “I highly doubt this was the same price of a two dollar slice of cake.” 

They’re delicate things as you peer at them in the box. The pair are almost holographic in colour, swirls and delicate lines indenting the wings- like those from the fairy illustrations you’ve seen almost about a thousand times. You’re enamoured by them; by the effort it more than likely took to get a pair like this. 

“No, they were a little over four dollars. Lyla spotted them for me.” 

Your face flushes, then you gather yourself, “So you’ve been thinking about me then?” Miguel indulges your flirting with a chuckle. 

He’s nervous though, or annoyed, you’re not sure you’re reading him right- but to aid your assessment, his hands are shoved into his pockets and his head hangs low beneath the mask. “They’re beautiful.” you say, taking them from his hand and inspecting them close up. 

“There’s a little amethyst stone on the end of it.” he says and you smile wide. 

“You went through all that trouble,” you say and Miguel frowns. “Do you want to come inside or are you just making your Spider-rounds?” 

“Spider-rounds?” He’s confused and intrigued by you at the same time.

“Yeah you know, your little patrol of the city to make sure everyone’s sleeping soundly and safe from the anomalies.” 

Miguel shakes his head, “I think you’re letting your imagination run away from you.” 

Before the conversation can go further, Lyla pops up, eye mask pulled up as she says, “Some Vulture thing just came through a tear in the arachno-humanoid poly multiverse,” as a secondary thought she turns to you, “Hey honey, might want to get inside.” 

It’s a blur, the moment between the Vulture attacking Miguel and him getting his mask on and pushing you into your apartment. 

You hear a lot of crashing, shattering and grunts. You’d never been close during the other battles, but now it’s quite literally on your doorstep and you feel the pin pricks of panic settle in your chest and fingers. 

If you’d had a little more blood pumping to your brain you might have stayed inside your apartment, hiding behind the door and the little fairy earrings. But your door is opened and you’re rushing outside to catch a glimpse of Miguel on the Vulture’s back claws digging into its back as he tries to get it to yield. 

He spots you, eyes widening behind the mask as he catches you walking towards him and the Vulture. 

“Get back in the house!” Miguel yells, the distraction enough to have the Vulture throwing him off his back and making his way to you as you hold your hands to your mouth as you watch Miguel’s body hit the ground hard. 

“Hello dear, why was the Spider-man visiting you?” The Vulture is on his way to you when you grab a rock and launch it towards his head. It hits him square in the forehead, but it doesn’t slow him. 

His wings are enveloping you in seconds, your screams ringing out as you’re off the ground.

“Pretty enough, maybe we could get a reaction from the Spider-man.” 

It’s not like when Miguel had saved you those last two times- this time your heart is beating in your throat and your fingers are trying to grip some part of the Vulture that will cause him pain. 

He gets to you first though, talons biting into your obliques and your bicep. There’s a burning sensation and you’re not sure if it’s poison or if it’s just the pain- but it stings like all hell. 

You fight and twist, trying to get a good grip on him. You pull on the feathers just under his neck and you pull. As his wings open, and you’re free-falling you get why people would want to skydive. There’s an adrenaline rush that makes you feel like you could actually fly. It makes you sympathise with Icarus; the boy had a taste of a freedom that’s usually not afforded to humans and it’s freeing in a way that makes you accept the splat that’s going to be you hitting the pavement. 

Miguel doesn’t let it happen.

His nanobots form a blanket on the ground, holding you as he rushes off to capture the Vulture. 

“Lyla, call Margo and tell her open the multiverse anomaly receiver.” 

You don’t hear much of what her response is because your hand is covered in blood as you press it to your side. 

“Coqueta, pensé que dije que me quedara adentro?” I thought I said to stay inside? Miguel’s hand moves to his watch, giving new instructions to his nanobots that mould to your open wounds. “You have a hard time listening, don’t you?” 

You look up at him, breathing harshly, “Sometimes pretty people distract me. I thought you said, ‘For sure come outside, I need help,’ it’s easy to mix up the words.” 

“You don’t even know what I look like,” He points out and watches you roll your eyes as best as you can in your current position, “Hold on to me.” He thinks better of the simple instruction and lifts his mask up to look at you, “I mean exactly what I said. Hold on to me.” 

Swinging with an open wound wasn’t as nice as the other times. This time you could tell Miguel was very conscious of where his hands were and how much pressure he was applying to your body.

You're wherever Miguel stays, and it looks very him. The room he takes you to is full of dark reds and blues, matching his suit completely. “Did you want to camouflage in your own office?” you’re a little breathless as you speak, body tired and growing even more tired as you lose more and more blood. 

Miguel doesn’t say anything, he just clears a table and lays you on it. “Don’t scream or anything. The other Spider-people are asleep.” 

“There’s more of you?” 

He gives one deft nod and then digs around his desk till he pulls out a first aid kit. 

Your eyes are fluttering shut and Miguel notices your breathing getting worse. 

“Don’t close your eyes.” he instructs, tapping your cheek lighting to get you to open your eyes again. 

“I’m tired,” you groan, jolting away from his hand on your hip. You melt into it when you open your eyes and find Miguel staring intently at you. “You could’ve left me at the hospital.”

“And explain your wounds how?” he holds an antiseptic cloth in his hand. “This might sting.” you nod, biting your lip as the cold cloth presses against your side.

“Fuck,” you murmur, clenching your fists as he finishes cleaning the blood. Miguel tries to distract you but talking to strangers isn’t really his strong suit. 

“Is this your first time getting stitches?” he asks and you hum- a broken little sound as the needle pierces your skin. Miguel feels awful at the sound, “I’m sorry, it’s going to pinch the whole way through.” 

You nod, trying not to focus on the way the needle pinches on your side with every stitch. “Do you have to stitch yourself a lot? Is that why you’re good at this?” 

Miguel doesn’t say anything to your question, just ponders the way you put on a brave face as he closes the stitch. 

The second time the needle pierces your skin you feel your head spin, “Think I’m gonna pass out,” you say and Miguel frowns. 

You hadn’t looked that bad to Miguel, but he feels his mistake fester and feels the way it can all go wrong so quickly. 

“Lyla, get her vitals up on the screen,” he instructs, hoping the nerves aren’t reflected in his voice, watching as your blood pressure drops. “Fuck,”

You go to say something but Miguel stops you, “You’ll have to stay here tonight. There’s no way you’re going back to your apartment.” 

Your eyes feel heavy as you look at him, “Okay,” you twist to lay flat again but the movement seems to have taken the last bit of energy from you. “I’m sorry.” Your bones liquify and your breathing is even and Miguel swears lowly. 

His chest feels heavy and achy.  

“Looks like you’re getting bedside manner training,” Lyla coos as she finishes displaying all your vitals. 

“I just don’t want her to die here, Lyla. When she’s a bit more stable I’ll take her to my room.” Miguel uses a gentle hand to brush your hair from your face, and he takes a moment to let his affection guide him as his thumb strokes the slope of your nose then the curve of your lip.

“You won’t die, no one else is dying,” the words are whispered as he finishes sewing you up, taking his time in cleaning the wound before sitting back in his seat, just watching your vitals till they’re good enough for him to move you to his room.

#miguelo'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara drabble #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x black!reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x yn #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x black!reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x yn #miguel o’hara x y/n #atvs #miguel spiderverse

[http-tokki]

You were meant to be mine

~prohero!bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, toxic bakugou, smut, explicit language, possessive/toxic relationships, dark content, borderline abusive relationship, dub con ~ wc: 840

Katsuki doesn't handle your breakup very well; psychotic levels of not handling things well. From constantly texting and calling, sending flowers, showing up at your job, waiting outside for you to get off work, following you to the gym, and walking behind you as you rush home, Everything that could warrant you getting a restraining order, but because he is a hero and has the entire fucking system in his pocket, everyone brushes it off as him being concerned for the wellbeing of his girlfriend. 

Your phone blinks again with a new message. 

Answer your phone. I need to talk to you.

More messages follow.

Baby, please, I miss you. Call me.

I'm sorry, can you please call me.

Answer your fucking phone. I swear to god. 

I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to be so rude. Please just answer your phone or call me. I need to talk to you. 

Baby, please.

You refuse to answer, fearing to let him back in because you love this type of desperation. A small part of you screams in joy every time a message comes through, excited to see how much he begs for some form of contact. Bakugou needed you, the great pro hero was metaphorically on his knees for you, pleading with you, and you weren't ready to give that up. 

Princess, I'm begging you. Answer me before I lose my fucking mind. Please, angel, talk to me.

Your stomach twists, and you're so close to giving in and texting him to come over and bend you over the couch so he can fuck you good and dumb, filling you up so you are tied to him forever. You bite down on your bottom lip, teeth digging into ravaged flesh as you battle your logical self. Logic wins out, and you let your phone ring all night. 

Umm, idk what I was going to write here because there was a massive gap, but it was filler about you hanging out with Izuku, cause you two were close before you and Katsuki got together, and that's what sends Bakugou over the edge. He then breaks into your house, and this is the scene we have, lmao. I told y'all this is draft dumping.

So you get home one day, and he is sitting on your once-shared couch. All the lights are off to avoid giving him away in case you had brought home Izuku. Katsuki's imagination had run wild with that scenario. There were two paths he could go down. One, chase Midroiya out of your apartment with the little knife he had bought with him, ending his hero image, OR make Deku watch while he fucks you, reminding you and his former friend who you belong to. Either way, he was about to ruin his future and didn't care. You were getting back together with him even if he had to hold you hostage. You only notice someone else is in your apartment when you hear his boot knock against the coffee table. You jump, shopping bags falling from your hands as they fly towards your bag, searching for the pepper spray you keep.

"Relax, it's me." he drawls from the darkness. 

Your heart stops as you recognise the voice. "What the fuck, Katsuki?" your fingers wrap around the small aerosol in your bag. 

The couch creaks as he stands. "I could ask you the same thing," heavy footsteps echo in your still-dark apartment. "Deku? Really?"

"Yes, because we are friends. Am I not allowed to have friends?" 

Katsuki's chuckle is low and menacing. "No, because I saw the way he looked at you, and I don't like it," you feel the warmth radiating off his body as he stops before you. "Only I'm allowed to look at you like that. I'm the only one who can think about you that way." He places a hand against your chest, fingers digging into your collarbones, itching to reach up and wrap around your throat. "I'm the only one who can kiss you the way you like" You feel his lips ghost along your cheek.

Your grip on the can of mace slackens, your whole body giving into his touch as his other hand rests on your hip. 

"I'm the only one who can grab you like this" his fingers slide up to the base of your throat, squeezing lightly. "the only one who can slide their cock in your mouth and watch you gag and drool while you try so hard to swallow me" the hand on your hip tightens, pulling you closer against his hard body. Your head spins at the closeness, your heart pounding in your chest, and your stomach twisting because you're going to fuck him. You've decided that you're about to fuck your crazy stalker, yet hero boyfriend turned ex in your doorway, and would you come out of it alive? At this point, you didn't care. 

"Do you want me to do that?" Katsuki's mouth ghosts over yours. "Do you want my cock in you, huh?" 

a/n: thats all i got lmao

#bakugo katuski #bakugou imagines #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bnha katsuki #this was in my drafts #bakugou katsuki smut

[mayearies]

PAST TENSE ★⭑ ——— jotw

<- prev part | next part ->

you wanted to see him. you wanted to know his motive. it was late into the night and you turned up at his apartment, just staring at the window that you used to come through then you were little. now looking back on it, just look at how many memories you lost with him. 

the knocking rhythm on his window disturbed him from his game. he opened the window and saw you. needless to say, he didn’t look the same. yes, with the bandages, but even if they weren’t there, he would look no different.

he wasn’t happy to see you, but at the same time he didn’t want to shun you away. so he just left it open for you to climb inside. “hey,”

“… hey.” he diverted his attention back to what he was doing earlier. 

“your mom wasn’t gonna let me in, so i just decided to- y’know let myself in,” you paused, you’re stuttering already. you were nervous. “remember? like when we were younger?”

“yeah, i remember,” his tone sounded so dismissive. nonetheless, you know you had to get to the bottom of this.

“can.. you tell me what happened?”

he had you twiddling your thumbs and overthinking on the other side of the room. the window was blowing in cold air that made you shiver, despite wearing a hoodie over your uniform. miles sighed, motioning you to join him on his bed. it was so uncomfortable.

“you wanna talk about this now?” he rubbed his face, “i’m actually surprised you wanna talk about it at all.”

“why wouldn’t i want to talk about it? my best friend and boyfriend just got in a fistfight!”

miles didnt know whether to frown or smile at the words ‘best friend.’ he bit the inside of his cheek and avoided your presence instead. half of him wanted you here, half of him wanted nothing to do with you. like you did to him. or so he felt that way.

you sighed at his silence, your face straightening up. “look. i dont wanna argue with you, but just- tell me-“

“tell you what? shit you already know?” his face looked of disappointment and disgust. “were you not gonna tell me you were being treated like that? you should tell me that.”

you werent even gonna try to play dumb. so, he knew. since today. the silence you gave him made him realize you never intended to tell him anything. “i didnt want you to-”

“to know? or to worry?” he looked worked up at this point. he was feeling a bunch of things at once. “thats always your excuse, who cares if i worry? you’re my best friend. and we promised-… we promised to tell each other anything and everything.”

“so you just thought you could bend the rule this one time? the one time its this serious?

“miles, it wasn’t that serious-”

“its serious when someone i LOVE is getting verbally abused. thats when its serious. you dont know what the fuck ‘serious’ means,” it sounded like his voice was breaking now, “what makes you think its not serious?”

you knew why. he knew why. but you know how in most friendships you dont need to say anything to know what the other is thinking? yeah. not only for the enjoyable moments you have.

the silence was loud. loud and uncomfortable. but you just had to ask: “why’d he say it?”

he didnt have an answer for that right away. it took for you to ask again for him to cave with his eyes welling with tears.

“because i loved you.”

“you… loved me?” you asked with disbelief. not on the part of him loving you, at the part he loved you.

“i cant love someone who cant even keep their promises.”

⭑ SHUSH! QUICK THOUGHT! … i guess this counts as some sort of plot twist

@ mayearies , no swiping!

#! ★⭑ — xoxo — 𝐉𝐎𝐓𝐖 #miles morales imagine #miles morales fic #miles morales fanfiction #miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles 42 #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 1610 #1610 miles x reader #miles 1610 #earth 1610 miles morales #miles morales 1610 #! ୨🧳ɞ﹒delivery! ₊˚

[withlovemark]

my girlfriend’s brother

warning: none

pairing: steve x female reader, she’s also just dustin’s half sister! (i’m not white so…)

words: 1.1k+

summary: you’re in the car when dustin implies that steve is still in love with nancy.

an: just a cute, little steve blurb because i have yet to get over him. not edited oops

“do you want to tell me what that was about?,” dustin interrogates the boy sitting in the driver seat.

“what was what about?,” steve’s eyebrows furrow, not quite understanding what the boy is trying to get at.

“i don´t know, how you practically just threw yourself at nancy,” the boy smirks, teasing him. steve doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes, avoiding his gaze, finding the view outside much more interesting. it all plays out unto his rear view mirror and he knows he’s in trouble.

“i-i did not!,” he defends, hating the way he stuttered. it’s not like he wasn’t sure, it’s just that the way you were silently fuming in the back has got his tongue stuck in his throat. you were absolutely adorable, green eyed monster and all.

“look at you! you’re a mess steve, you’re totally still in love with her! right, y/n!?,” dustin turns around in his seat, wide smile reaching up to his eyes, searching for validation in yours. you almost want to punch his little face in but you knew that it was no one else's fault but yours. you were the one who asked steve to keep your relationship on the down low. you were the one who asked for time - time to properly tell your brother everything.

but now, 3 months later, you still haven't found the courage to tell him that you like like his best friend, hell maybe you were even in love with steve harrington. so, with the most enthusiastic grin you could pull off, lips bending upwards, teeth clenched into what you thought could pass off as a smile, “yeah… totally!” you agree.

“told you!,” dustin focuses his attention back on steve, completely unaware of the hole he has dug for the older boy. you quietly huff, not being able to stand the annoyance seeping throughout your body.

quickly, you hopped out of the car, slamming the door closed, startling the two boys, making steve wince. “jeez, what’s got her panties in a twist,” dustin´s eyebrow furrows, looking at your figure through his window, your back turned to them, leaning against the door you just got out of as you wait for max.

steve lets his head fall into his steering wheel, exasperated sighs falling from his lips. “listen here you little shit, first of all don’t ever say panties again, second,” he pauses, wondering if it would be a good idea to finally tell him that he’s not in love with nancy and is instead in love with his sister. ‘yeah, no’

“second..what steve?” dustin waits impatiently, legs bouncing.

“second, i’m not in love with nancy and you need to stay out of my love life!” he says instead.

“yeah, sureee steve i would love to stay out of your love life…but how can i do that if your love life literallY INVOLVES MY SISTER!” dustin’s voice raises with every syllable, a confession that leaves a stunned steve staring at him with wide eyes.

“i don’t- i-i’m not, i- what?” the older boy sends him a look mixed with surprise and confusion, like receiving a birthday gift that you have to pretend to like for the sake of the other person, worry laced in his voice from having been found out.

“i’m literally the one who solves everything, you don’t think i would notice you sneaking into our house at night! you don’t think i know the sound of your car!?,” dustin points out the facts, interrogating him.

“h-how long have you known?,” steve sighs in defeat, hands pushing back his hair that's fallen out of place, the only confirmation the boy needed.

“three months,” he confesses.

“i’m so so-¨ steve gets ready to apologize. truth is, he's had this apology ready way before you started dating. once he knew his feelings for you go way beyond friendship, dustin´s tooth grinning smile was already at the back of his head. his best friend´s words settle into his mind, making him forget all about his prepared speech, ¨wait… that’s when we started dating,”

“yeah,” he nods, a menacing smile on his face.

“y-you knew all this time?,” this whole time, you and steve have been going around secret dates that always consisted of late night interruptions by the boy in front of him. this whole time, he's had to discreetly glance at you, not stand too close, hands always just lingering side by side yet never clasped together and he had to be okay with that. had to be okay with you sitting at the backseat because the front was saved for your brother.

oh, how he could murder this henderson kid if he wasn´t his best friend and your brother.

“mhm and i thought hey let me be a nice best friend and brother and wait for them to tell me, but won’t you look at that three months later and you guys are still lying to my face,” dustin´s complaint broke him out of his thoughts.

steve looks at the boy who was clearly upset, “man, i´m sorry,¨ he sincerely apologizes, a frown on his face. he truly did feel awful for hiding this from dustin. he wonders if the boy would even trust him anymore and that thought alone sunk steve´s heart.

finally having enough fun of his own, dustin breaks out into a sheepish smile, “god, i wish i could take a picture of you right now,” he laughs, a hearty laugh, one that perks up steve´s ears as he sports a look of confusion. he doesn't get this boy sometimes.

“relax dude, i don´t care, my best friend and my sister, the two people i love the most, it's finee, yeah i'm a little upset you guys were hiding it from me but after a couple of weeks, i got over it,” he shrugs nonchalantly. like his words had absolutely no weight in them.

for steve, it was everything he wanted to hear.

“just don´t break her heart harrington or i will find a demodog from the upside down and lock you in a room with it,” the curly headed boy finished, trying to sound tough.

steve practically had to force himself to hold back his laughter at the boy´s empty threat, saluting him, “yes sir, i promise, i´ll even help you capture the demodog,” the two boys mirroring each other´s wide grins, a promise sealed with a fist bump.

“yeah, yeah i trust you, but right now, you should probably fix this whole ´nancy´ mess,” dustin quotes, bringing him back to the current situation.

“ugh!, there is no ´nancy´ mess! you just made that up!,” steve groans, once again annoyed at the boy in front of him.

“oops,” dustin shrugs teasingly, “wellll, once you fix it, your relationship will get stronger and all that crap, right?,” he sends the older boy an apologetic smile.

steve immediately dishevels his hair, both out of love and irritation. stepping out of his vehicle, arms finding their way around your waist, a light kiss to your shoulder, ready to reassure you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about — not nancy, not dustin.

“baby…”

#wrote this on my ipad so sorry if the layout is a bit weird #love.c. #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader

[nobodys-hekatonchires]

A Snippet From My Jazz & Ironhide TFP Au

This is snippet from the first chapter, if anyone wants to have a read :)

Ironhide, as the war continued on, missed a lot of things. But at this current klick, he painfully missed the Ark and all its systems. That ship had been wonderful, armed to the teeth with so many weapons that left the Weapon’s specialist’s intake drooling. It even had its own energon bar! Filled with premium high-grade and everything. But that ship was long gone, along with it many mecha that Ironhide hadn’t seen in vorns, and a proper system that functioned. The current shuttle he was crammed into was nothing more than a glorified waste bin, hardly a spaceship, let alone a functional one!

“Jazz, you rusty bolt! Where in all the Pits did ya’ manage to find the most scrapped ship?!” Ironhide demanded, vocaliser growling over the cacophony of endless warning sirens and blaring emergency messages. Taking an astrosecond to let go of the steering console, Ironhide slammed a fist down on a bunch of buttons to hopefully shut something up. The system whined but spluttered out, although the shuttle was still a loud mess.

“This was all I could find!” Jazz yelled back, visor flashing with indignation at Ironhide’s accusatory tone. The shorter mech was doing his very best to stay upright, digits clinging to the command console in front of him as he looked for any button they might deploy missiles or even a space bridge to get them out of the trouble they were in. Unfortunately, they’d both found that most of the controls were useless, not even wired up to any function. A couple were simply just stickers or painted on to make the whole thing look more high-tech than it was. Ironhide was lucky he even had a steering column and a pilot’s seat to begin with. Jazz’ chair had long since ripped itself out of its struts, clattering somewhere behind them both in the tiny storage area onboard. Anything that wasn’t strapped down had joined the chair in the mess it was creating, thrown around as Ironhide flew like a two-wheeler on too much Vosnian high-grade.

“It ain’t ma’ fault ya’ twisted th’wires of just ‘bout everybot on that planet!”

Ironhide would give Jazz that, but nothing more. He had unfortunately angered a lot of mecha and organics by winning (fairly!) at astro-poker. It probably hadn’t helped that he’d also punched the first organic to try to demand their credits back. But what was a mech to do? Ironhide had won them fair and square, not his fault some mecha couldn’t keep their gears from exploding because they lost about a hundred thousand credits.

And Ironhide didn’t even get to keep the cursed things, losing them all when one very large mech had flipped the table…

Gritting his dentae so hard he thought the metal might bend, Ironhide steered the shuttle to the side sharply to avoid a cluster of asteroids ahead. The only good thing about their ship was it was small, easily manoeuvrable, even in an asteroid belt. He just wished all the engines actually worked and that the cannons hadn’t been dismantled for scrap pieces.

A dangerously close blast knocked their shuttle to the left, narrowly scraping a huge asteroid. Jazz cursed, and Ironhide almost smacked his own helm on the console. He didn’t need rear cameras to know that their pursuers were gaining on their tailpipe. Their ship was big enough to just shoulder the asteroids out of the way, and they had working guns!

“Primus, I wish I was back on th’Ark!” Ironhide lamented loudly, engines rumbling in agreement. At least on the Ark he wouldn’t be the one driving either. And that ship had had stasis pods!

“Hey! That ain’t ma’fault.” Jazz protested just before he lost his footing and crashed into a wall somewhere. Ironhide didn’t have the opportunity to go help him. Suddenly, another load of lights and sirens started up. It was like some weird disco, if you enjoyed deafening alarms and optic-piercing light shows. This was far worse than one of those clubs that Jazz had dragged the older mech too on Cybertron. He’d take that any cycle now.

“Yeah, an’ we both know whose fault it is!” Ironhide yelled back at his companion. There was a bunch of cursing and scraping of metal behind him, until Jazz appeared at Ironhide’s side again, a few more dents in his plating but luckily still alive.

“Prime’s!”

“He better be on this ‘Earth’. I’ve got some scrap to hammer inta that helm’a his.” He mumbled mostly to himself, ignoring the alert about another fire starting up on the shuttle. Jazz rushed off to go sort out the blaze, mostly tumbling through the ship as Ironhide took another sharp turn. He forced his vents to exhale and keep cooling his systems down while it mitigated battle protocols. Sooner or later they’d probably be engulfed in an explosion, especially if the other ship hit their energon lines…

#transformers prime #transformers #tfp #tfp optimus #tf jazz #tf ironhide #jazz #ironhide #optimus prime #tfp optimus prime #maccadam #my writing #ao3 #archive of our own #iron deficient jazz hands #transformers prime au #my au

[halfadoginatank]

RE:BOOTING, Awakening.

Part one-> Here.

Have fun!

———————

There are three things John believes in. The divine, The machine, and The flesh.

His own body has been over, under, twisted around this conglomerate of parts for months. People have called, texted, mailed him for Christ's sake. But there's nothing more important than feeling unforgiving metal bend under his human hands.

Ghost is a machine so broken and tragic, John cries when he's alone with it.

he forgets there's a human inside of there, forgets though always passively aware of the chip in the machine's name where he works around it. When he's welding metal together, wiring it, staring into its chassis with adoration and wonder, he neglects the fact there is a human ‘soul’ in there, waiting to wake up.

John's never been dead, he doesn't know what the real man inside the metal feels.

But he longs, he wants to shove more than his hands inside this robot. This Replicant, he wants to become one with it, in a body he's created himself. In his hazy mind he believes there's god inside this machine, because there is some god in everything and in him, and he is inside this machine, bits of himself- his handiwork, his blood, his sweat, the tears from drunk nights sobbing over a machine while he tells it things he could never admit to himself.

It takes his time, his sleep, his awareness away from the world. There's a bottle of medication right by his night stand and everyday he avoids it, he's so focused now. There's never been anything else like this, like peeling the synthetic skin away from metal and improving what couldn't fix itself. John doesn't want to lose any attention he has on this machine.

Days and nights pass, he prolongs the inevitable, making tiny worthless upgrades, small details, painting back some of Simon Rileys tattoos onto the cold dark grey metal, they barely show up unless in the right lighting but who cares? Anything but turning it back on, anything but having the man inside look upon John and see what he's done, to see him, see inside John's head and every thought he's had while inside him.

John hopes robotic bodies don't hold memories, he hopes when a Replicant's body is turned off that they can't see anything, can't hear anything, he hopes Simon is sleeping well in whatever realm of data his soul is in now. He doesn't want to be seen, he just wants to work. Free to love and care for things that feel nothing at all.

When he turns this machine on it will cease to be just that, it'll be a person. A person who will look down at themselves, call it good, and never see him again.

He'll be letting go of the best thing he's ever made, he'll be letting go Ghost.

[«»]

Time catches up anyway. He sends the email and they respond in kind. A week from now John Price, Kyle Garrick, and Kate Laswell will arrive at his office, So it's time. John will turn the ‘key’ and Simon will wake up.

When he does, for a brief moment he considers a gift from god- there is silence. Those brown eyes blink open, the synthetic skin on his face and neck pull when he turns his head, scrunches when he sniffs the air. John has never felt so… unsure of what he's done.

“Where am I?” Simon's head pulls up, he rattles against the metal table, john looks down in shame and purses his lips- unable to really make anything of his own doing.

“Where the hell am I?!?” Simon rattles again, John looks away from the restraints on him in guilt.

Simon continues his questioning, his flailing, John can only hope it'll end soon so he can get a word in- maybe explain. But in truth, how could he explain being reborn into a machine?

The sounds grow closer and John makes nothing of it until a towering figure blocks every inch of his vision.

Of course, he would make Ghost inhumanly strong, and of course he would fail to make proper restraints.

“Who are you, what orders were you given?”

Simon's face looked down at him, that face he had painfully put onto a plate he 3D printed just so he could keep it as accurate to what few pictures he was given. Scars and everything, even those tiny freckles he hand painted on- exactly where they should be.

Orders, right, orders are much easier to explain.

“You're aware of what a replicant is, yea?”

God let him keep his eyes anywhere but on the man in front of him.

“Captain Price, your superior; found you dying in Texas of all places- put you in a very old Replicant soldier body that was beat up and declared a spare.”

John thanked whatever gods out there that Simon had taken steps back to sit on the table, the table with broken leather straps- Christ above.

“He came to me to fix you up the best I could, so I did. Fix you, I mean.”

He felt… tired, John didn't bother explaining even more. couldn't really think beyond the sudden wave of exhaustion. Instead he sat down at his closest chair and bemoaned some of the papers and parts Simon had stepped on.

There's a giant silent expanse between them, John yearns for cold metal with no gaze to freeze him solid.

“When am I on active duty.”

John bites his tongue, goes for a cup of coffee on his desk he knows is cold.

“Price is coming around with the rest of the squad in three days, presumably he'll move you and you'll be in their care.” He can't keep the bitterness out of his voice.

Simon is prone to one word responses and direct questions, John shouldn't blame him for it. He doesn't, not really, he blames himself most of all. For getting involved with a Replicant, for spending what little sleep he got at its bedside, for whispering his secrets into a hollow skull.

“And you?”

Oh, John doesn't know. What does anyone do when losing a part of themselves?

“I'll move on to other projects- military always has issues with something, once someone gets word about who patched you up, i'll get more orders. I do good for myself.”

He wants to brag, he wants to brag and act like Ghost isn't the best thing he's worked on in his life.

“Right.”

[«»]

In the end those three days are spent in silence. Simon only needs to recharge really, so John goes back to sleep in his bed. The world has never felt colder.

He's not listening to their reunion, not really. Price is happy to see Simon again and Garrick makes his introduction- he's charming and John finds he likes the people in this squad, it's certainly better then some.

Laswell is who he spends most of the time with, there's papers and documents of all kinds. John wants to poke fun at them using ancient methods like a paper contract but he's still so tired.

In truth, the only thing that really catches his attention is when Price turns to him and asks him, John Mactavish, to join the one-four-one.

It's been years since he'd been on a military base, he shriveled at the thought of shitty “laboratories” and rec rooms full of people that became uninterested in him once he spoke about what he was truly passionate about.

He lays down his clauses, he'll work here, loath to change his environment.

There's a secret glee inside of him though. Proper gym equipment, maybe the opportunity to work on more specialized robotics then just his usual contract allows. When he says yes, Kate slides his contract from under the one he just signed.

Quietly it feels like fate.

——————

👍I take my leave.

#mw2 2022 #cod modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghostsoap #johnny soap mactavish #cod mw2 #very badly written sifi #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warefare ii #cod mw3 #ghost cod #cod mwii #ghoap #I swear the religious stuff wasnt supposed to be there #you can blame it on me letting my partner talk about preachers daughter by Ethel Cai #I think it screwed those last two tags I dont know because im on mobile life is such joy :)

[mindfogs]

my thoughts on hazbin hotel from someone who was never in the fandom but nonetheless kept up with the updates

i think the main problem is that it feels like a second season, it already outdid its premise and it was waaaaaaaaaay too soon.

and this was noticeable in the first episodes but even so in the latest ones!

there's so many moments where they wanted to go "WWOOOAAAA" based on the years you waited for this. mimzy (?) appearance being the most blatant example. it was not foreshadowed, it brought NOTHING to the table (maybe it'll have consequences later idk), it was just there to make you go "THAT CHARACTER THAT WAS TEASED FINALLY IS HERE"

but also so much more... this show LOVES to TELL rather than SHOW... they tell us cherry and sir pentuous have a rivalry, they tell us alastor helped charlie since day one but they never show us any of it. and i think it's because they rely on the pilot too much? they assume you've seen the pilot and could piece things together yourself...

(p. s. some other things that weren't in the pilot like alastor and tv guy rivalry were established rather well i think)

they skipped the status quo and went straight to the subverting expectations! that's why the first season being "boring" and formulaic is so important! it sets the ground for the rest of the show!!

it supposed to be rewarding to hear charlie tell her dad and heaven that they made progress.... have they tho? we had a nice episode with sir pentuous apologizing, we see angel back story in ep 4 and we see him acting better in ep 6 but we don't really see what changed him we don't see him gradually improve. one could say his song with dusk acted as a catharsis but that to me sounded like he accepted his situation. literally the first step. everything else from episode 3 onward was not about the hotel, the premise of the show, but it focusses on world building and characters... which is fine, but wouldn't it be more rewarding if we got vaggie's "i am nothing without you" moment after watching, SEEING her struggling with herself for at least a couple of episodes before?

the whole talk to the heaven guys felt so flat since maybe charlie had some proof they could get better but WE didn't (until they opened the portal yes i watched the episode). we get a great big musical number about how the rules are bended and twisted and one of the angels joins in and "souls could be redeemed" but again i don't think we really earned a moment like this after 2, maybe 3 moments of genuine change with these characters.

all these moments are great in a vacuum, but they aren't really rewarding if not set up properly. i feel like it was a mix of having too much to pack in one season and 20 minutes episodes, and relying too much on the pre estiblished knowledge from the pilot and the general fandom. maybe in a longer season with some episodes in between where we see the sinners redemption? maybe after a whole season of just the hotel shenanigans? idk i'm not a writer but something feels off

i will still keep up with the series because it's a fun watch, the animation is really nice, the voice actors are fantastic and i'm genuinely curious to see where it's going. it's a passion project and it shows and i love it for that but i feel like they should have had someone who has never heard of hazbin hotel to help direct it in order to avoid relying too much on established lore and love people already have for these characters.

#hazbin fandom don't take this seriously I just needed to take my thoughts out #hazbin hotel criticism #foggy thoughts #i could also make comparisons with steven universe and thw good place to explain better but lets leave it at that

[elithemiar-blog]

KimChay reconciliation and a bit of Porsche & Chay

Let me know what ya think. First time writing for this fandom, Kim may be a bit OOC, but I tried.

--

The garden had darken under the fall of the sun, stars climbing over the horizon as the moon stays hidden. The gorgeous bright almost neon colors in a sea of pastel that is normally seen at all times in this new life of violence and retribution, revenge and agony, of the mystery if a puzzle will finally provide the details hidden in the message when the puzzle will be solved.

Only to find that the puzzle solved is only a piece of a much larger scale.

The green foliage of the shrubs that surround the compound is a vivid reminder that even though the ones he loves are alive doesn't mean that they are safe. Drops, much like his own tears at one time, fall from the leaves and absorb into the soil to fuel growth, and even help the seedlings that have yet to sprout.

He can't help but think of himself, falling for so long and hard after a brief time of warmth in a struggle of fending off the cold, and seeing the small things to get through until the next day.

Now, even the white posts that hold the small gazebo, he can only see as gray.

And the ceiling that he would normally see as maybe a dark brown, is as black as the sky is right now.

His head hangs back, neck burning at the angle as he tries to reach the railing to rest on but unable to, instead he feels chill of water droplets hitting his forehead.

Flinching at first, as the uncomfortable feeling of dry to wet, of warm to cold shocks his skin, he calms, the different spectrums becoming soothing.

"If you want to get wet, I'll sneak you over to the pool."

His eyes open to see the border between the sky and the wood of the shelter ceiling, not remembering when he shut them in the first place. Raising his head until meeting the almost guilt wrecked gaze of his brother, but he doesn't speak, just turns his head back down, hands already twisting in his lap and brushing his own calluses on his finger tips.

Rough but gentle hands brushing over his shoulders, skin barely touching skin that sent goosebumps down his arms and ricocheting back into his heart that gave him the courage to speak up, and release the bound feelings inside.

"Chay."

His brother calls again, and still doesn't answer. He shifts until is back is against one of the corners, but his front still staying facing the entrance. Something that he has felt the need to do as of recent, startled several times already with the guards coming up behind him. He feels safer seeing the way in, and exactly who is standing there.

He tucks is legs up on the bench, one leg bending to lean against the railing while the other stays tucked under, hands gripping that leg in an act of self comfort.

"Chay."

He swallows, knowing that this is a conversation has to happen, no matter how much he wants to avoid the nerves, "What?" Where is his courage to battle through those nerves like last time.

Porsche sits next to him, and with his brother being for more proficient at keeping them safe he turns his gaze to his hands, feeling the weird soft material that the oldest brother of the mafia sons had procured for him.

He heard his brother sigh, and the near choking feeling climbs and builds in his throat, but he's so tired of crying, of seeming weak. Another hand hovers over his, then pulls away.

"I know we haven't talked in a while, with everything going on, I just thought that you need time to…let everything settle."

He nods, that was one way of putting it.

"You've changed, Chay. These spontaneous decisions aren't you."

"And what if they are?" he challenges back, softly, barely a whisper between them.

A small smile appears unbidden on his brother's face, "Because I know you. I've seen you angry, happy, sad, nervous, and even petty. I've practically raised you, but you're acting like -- " he sucked in a breath, "Who hurt you, Chay?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, tell me their name and I'll go take care of them."

He could, but there was only two, and for once he's tired of holding back the hurt. "You can't take care of yourself."

Porsche flinches back.

"I understand why, I really do, but you couldn't tell me the truth? At least hinted that what you were involved with wasn't legal?" he quickly wipes away the single tear that had escaped, sniffling.

"I didn't think you'd approved."

"Obviously, I didn't matter -- " snapping his mouth shut, the frustration voicing his darker thoughts.

Porsche's voice pitched as he spoke, "You are the reason I took this, our money problems are no more and even if I declined on my death bed, I'm pretty sure we would've been here anyway."

He chokes out a laugh, barely making it past the lump in his throat that still remains there.

Porsche observes him for a moment before nodding along, though concern still evident. "At least you're feeling something."

The corner of his lips tucked up slightly, at least one of them can still see the bright side.

"Who else?"

If there is one thing Chay knows of himself, he can't lie, not to Porsche, no matter how much he really wants to. "Nothing worth your time."

"You're worth everything." he replies. "When everything started to go down before the coup, I thought of taking you and running, escaping while there was still a chance. Then just like that, answers started come, secrets being revealed, and the amount of a hassle there had been of someone trying to keep everything hidden."

"I don't think Kinn," and Kim, he wants to believe, "wouldn't try to follow if we tried."

"And about a dozen bodyguards." Porsche agreed. "I just want you safe, that's all."

He rolls his eyes, "I know."

Porsche opens his arms, inviting the younger for a hug, and this time Chay doesn't deny the embrace hiding his face into his brother's shoulder. "I haven't forgotten that you hadn't revealed a name, but…I'll wait until you're ready."

Nodding back, and seeing the garden around them makes him feel a little lighter.

"Come back to the party when you're ready. I'll keep them distracted for as long as I can."

With one final look, Chay turned his back, refusing to witness Porsche leaving.

His heart felt a little lighter, being able to get through that without the yelling he fearfully expected, for a moment thinking that his brother found out about his outings, and how he'd been followed home, and by who.

The feeling of being watched, eyes penetrating into his back, and he could only think of one single person who would genuinely be watching over him, and that person just left. His heart thumps thinking that it could be the other person, the same person that keeps an eye on him for some reason other than a duty.

"I don't know why you continue to follow me when you've never cared!" he shouts, the accusation on his tongue tingling, taking a breath to release another statement.

"I never said I didn't care." a mellow-toned voice whispers.

Chay whips around, "Then what was with the apology?" the anger that had surfaced immediately dropped back down at seeing the cold, frigid eyes that gazed back. "Kim?"

"Chay, I -- " his gaze turned away, jaw clenching, his hands though hidden in the pockets of that leather jacket, could still be seen forming into fists. He leaned back on his heel, already twisting to walk away.

"Why should I stay, when you won't?"

Kim is forced to pause at that question, his body a quarter of the way twisted back to exit the structure, slowly he met Chay's gaze over his shoulder. "Would you have? If you knew?"

"I don't know." incredulous at the question, but hopeful, "Not like you gave me a choice!" He suddenly stood, finding more strength than he had all week, and nearly stood toe to toe in front of Kim. "I can see why you wouldn't answer any question in the vicinity of this place, from what very little I could figure out, but why hurt me?"

Kim didn't move, just stated straight into the doe-eyes that had haunted him, but at the very least no tears were shedding.

"Did you enjoy playing me like a fiddle? Enjoy that I had been so easy to get information out of? Enjoy--"

"Enjoy our time as if breathing sunlight?"

Chay blinked, "Then why hurt me?"

"Safer --"

"For who?!" he snapped, those frustrated tears threatening to re-run their course down his cheeks.

Kim barely stopped himself from reaching out, shifting so minutely that no-one could've noticed.

"For me? Or for yourself?"

Frustration and anxiety with a brush of hope shifted through Kim's veins, and he couldn't stop his next words, "I can't let my own father know of any weaknesses!"

The sheer vulnerability that reflected in his eyes, of regret, fear, and so much more made Chay's own emotions freeze, his hands rose scrubbing over his eyes, and he turned away, moving back toward the bench he'd been on to curl up as if he's a defenseless child.

Kim reached out, hand missing the fabric of his shirt to hold him there. Tamping down the panic that pierced his heart, as he witnesses Chay turn his back on him, to look out into the garden. A part of him knows that he should leave, and he realized that he's a coward, the beauty in front of him having so much courage for the both of them.

And maybe it could be enough.

Chay lets the tears roll into his sleeve, hearing the footsteps, so light as he's sure Kim is walking away.

"For both of us."

Stunned, the younger turns to give him his full attention, but stays silent.

"If my father knew about our connection he'd use that to tie me into this family again, he'd put your life in danger to get me to cooperate." He sits, turning his head to the garden, being unable to meet the inquisitive gaze just yet. "I knew early on that you didn't know anything, and even after trying to cut contact, you persisted."

"Alright, so attracted to stubbornness?"

"No." Kim glances back to see Chay, insecurities showing through as the younger's shoulders dropped. Panic of a different kind squeezed his heart as he struggled to say something. Than an idea came through the fog, "What do you see in the garden?"

Chay shrugs, "Bushes, foliage, might be some rose bushes." he sees colors, various ones, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Humor me. What did you think initially?"

"It's calm, quiet, even without the sunlight or the moon, it's beautiful."

Kim, missed the exaggerated hand movements, that showed there was nothing that could be hurt him in those hands. "I see where cameras can be placed, I see places to hide, I see an open area with very few places to use as a barrier in case of another fight. I see things that could be used as a weapon, and even though we are a bit further from the main building, there are cameras that point in this direction."

"I -- "

"This is my world."

"Okay, I can see your point." he nodded, once, "How would keeping me in the dark protect me, if I don't know what I'm being protected from? If I'm in danger, I have a right to know that, so I can protect myself, so I know what to look for."

"I was hoping Porsche would take you and run." he mutters out, "I didn't know about your mother."

"But you knew something." Chay shakes his head, getting his thoughts back on the reason they're here, "What do you want?"

"Whatever you'll give me." his answer rushes out as he exhales.

Chay wants to go back to whatever they had on the base of lies, to go back to that comfort, but he knows that he needs to know Kim without the pretentions of an investigation. To know all sides of him, even the ones he tries to keep hidden. Memories flashed back to Hum's Bar floor, he's not exactly happy about the killing, but at the same time he's grateful, satisfied in a weird way of Kim's ability to protect him.

Kim, will deny to anyone else that he did not perk up at watching Chay unblock his number, a thrumming in his veins that gives in the urge to be able to reach him again.

"I'll let you know."

#kimchay #kinnporsche #fic writing #ever get an idea when your barely awake and think I should write that but immediately fall back asleep #yeah that happened but I waited till late to actually work on it #bc i was trying to work on other stories and brain wouldn't focus #first time writing for this fandom #halp been listening to Black Tie for over a week #fully believe that chay is the only one who can stand against Kim without consequence #let this boy make his own choices #continuation TBD?

[cryptidghostgirl]

do you think you'd be able to write something where the reader is tylers best friend and she gets hurt by the hyde and her love confession happens as she dies

plot twist: tyler flips out and brings her to the hospital but she ends up being okay and its all fluffy

Happenstance (Tyler Galpin x Reader)

Pairing: Tyler x Reader

Warnings: gore and blood and violence and death guys. it’s in the request, i’m sorry.

Description: I am trying to stay as true to this request as possible, i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 1,485

Status: Unedited

 Master List Link

She wasn’t supposed to have been there. That’s all Tyler could think in this moment. She had told him she’d be home for the evening, that she didn’t feel well. Of course Tyler knew of Y/n’s appreciation of a “good nighttime walk” to use her words, how could he not. That is why it was so crucial he knew where she was at all times after all, so he could avoid this exact situation.

Tyler hadn’t known a life without Y/n in years, he couldn’t even figure out what the shape of a life like that would be. They had met in first grade. It hadn’t been an easy friendship, Y/n had fought hard for it. Tyler still felt guilty about how the first time they met, he pushed her out of her chair and onto the floor. All she had wanted to do was make a new friend, not be the new kid outcast anymore.

No matter what he had seemed to do, she always stuck around. It didn’t matter if he threw her lunch at her or stole her books, tripped her in the hall or ignored her while she called after him, she always came back. He still didn’t understand it. Her persistence was something he found so lovely.

At last, he had given into her requests after a screaming match they’d had on the playground where he had asked Y/n why she wouldn’t leave him alone and she had lost it. Her fury had moved like liquid through her, spouting from her mouth, kicking up a storm. That was something else he found to be so lovely about her. That rage of hers was so unique, he’d never felt anything like it.

Side by side they had made it through everything together or, well, almost everything. Laurel had given Tyler permission to protect Y/n, keep her out of harms way, made promises of letting him have her once their business was done. He was not however permitted to cute Y/n into his situation.

So Tyler had taken to being more attentive, keeping tabs on the girl at all times. He claimed it was for her safety and, in a way, he was telling the truth. He made up stories he’d ‘heard’ about a spree of kidnappings across Vermont the police had been keeping quiet. He said his father had told him and that’s why he knew, that the killer tended to pick victims out that looked just like her.

She was so easy to bend to his will, this was more of an amusement for him. Tyler couldn’t lie, the deception, the manipulation, gave him a certain thrill.

Quickly, he shifted back into his human form and fell to the ground beside the dying girl. He hadn’t been aiming for her, he’d been aiming for the hiker but the hiker had ran and as Tyler had cut him down, Y/n had appeared out of nowhere. She had gotten caught in the crossfire.

Now here she lay, Tyler holding her intestines into her stomach as her chest heaved and tears filtered from her lovely eyes. And still, she gazed at him with that same affection, as if she didn’t know, as if she didn’t care.

“T-Tyl-ler” she stuttered out, trying and failing to lift a hand to his face.

“sh sh sh, save your breath.” Tyler pleaded, “oh god Y/n, oh god….”

He kept trying, though in vain, to push her insides back in. Y/n jerkily lifted her hand again and tapped his arm. The movement was jolted and repeated and horribly wrong.

“Ty-le-er” she tried again.

He looked down at her, spitting up and covered in her own blood. In a sick and twisted way, one could have said she looked lovely like that.

“I am so sorry.” he said at last, the tears that had been resting in the corners of his eyes falling at last, “I am so sorry”

“I need y-you to kn-know someth-thi-ng” Y/n spluttered out, her words having too little breath behind them and coming out stunted.

“What is it?” asked Tyler leaning in closer as he still held his hands to her stomach.

“T-Ty, I th-think-k I’m gonna d-die”

Tyler could have laughed.

“You think?” he said sarcastically, unable to hold it back and regretting it immediately.

Tyler could have sworn that the guttural and cracked sound that came from the girl next was a laugh.

“I love you Tyler.” she said, almost entirely clearly before her head tilted to the side and she fell limp.

Tyler was worried he wouldn’t be able to make it to the hospital in time. He had thrown on the clothes he had hidden near by and ran all the way to the nearest hospital, carrying Y/n’s limp body in his arms. It was if her words had unlocked something caged within him, something he’d locked up deep down inside.

I love you Tyler

Y/n has actively picked those to be her last words, that have to have meant something. When he got to the emergency room at last, she had already been unconscious for twenty minutes. As he had run, Tyler had begun to feel her body grow cold. He had tried his best not to think about it as he knew he wouldn’t be able to continue if he did.

He had made up some bullshit story about how he’d been for a walk and found her and another man he didn’t know like this. When he asked why he only brought Y/n, he answered that the other man was already dead while Y/n had been conscious when he’d first arrived. It wasn’t all entirely untrue. The best lies are always in some way close to the truth.

The doctors, miracle workers that they are, had quite literally brought her back to life before his very eyes but she was in a coma. Tyler had spent every moment he could in her hospital room, but she’d been asleep for weeks now. He was beginning to lose hope.

When he had gotten the call telling him she was awake, he was at work. Y/n had been asleep for so long, he had had to go back otherwise he would have been fired. He saw Wednesday beckoning him over from a nearby booth as he softly spoke to the doctors.

“She keeps asking for you.” the doctor sighed, exhaustion evident in their voice.

“I will be there as soon as I can.”

“Tyler?” she asked as he stepped into the room, her voice small.

“I am so glad you’re awake.” he responded, shutting the door and taking the seat next to her bed, “I thought I’d lost you Y/n”

“I thought I’d lost me too.” she chuckled and the pair fell back into silence again.

“What do you remember?” Tyler asked at last and Y/n shrugged.

“Honestly? not much.”

“Not even who attacked you?”

Y/n shook her head and Tyler felt himself relax.

“I remember you, that’s all. I remember you trying to, you know, keep my innards… in? and I remember… well…”

Her cheeks flushed pink and she looked away embarrassed.

“Anyways, I have a super gnarly scar now across my stomach. So that’s fun.” said Y/n, clearly trying to change the subject.

Tyler turned her head back towards him, lifting her chin with his hand.

“Hey.” he said and then went quiet, he never thought he’d get to see those eyes open again.

“hey..?” questioned Y/n, shaking him out of his thoughts.

Tyler said nothing, simply leaned forward and kissed her. He’d had a lot of time to think while Y/n had been asleep, a lot of time to realize that maybe that warm fuzzy feeling and those butterflies he got and the way he saw her wasn’t exactly normal for someone who was just friends. A lot of time to realize that that platonic type of love they’d always talked about having for one another, maybe wasn’t the right classification. The kiss confirmed it all.

Y/n looked dumbstruck, her eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“I am sorry.” Tyler exclaimed, forcing his cheeks to go red and pretending as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing, “i am so sorry, I really don’t know what came over me, I can leave if you want?”

Y/n shut her mouth and shook her head slowly before leaning forward and giving him a slight peck on the lips.

Tyler smiled. Sure, he had her right where he wanted her, all trusting and soft before him but what if she was really the one in charge? The thought was gonna as soon as it came. He didn’t care. This felt right, more right than anything else had. In that moment they both knew.

 Master List Link

#wednesday netflix #netflix’s wednesday #tyler galpin #wednesday show #tyler fic #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin fic #tyler galpin oneshot #tyler galpin one shot #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x you #x reader one shot #one shot #x reader oneshot #x reader #oneshot #request #request one shot #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #dark tyler galpin #dark tyler #dark tyler x reader #dark x reader #dark!fic #dark!tyler galpin x reader #dark!tyler galpin #dark!tyler

[n0-way-0ut]

- MINE ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

PAIRINGS— pre-apocalypse!daryl dixon x fem!reader

SUMMARY— after finishing your shift at the local bar you head back to the dixon home for merles coming home party

WARNINGS— mentions of drugs and alcohol, slight(?) nsfw content

MORE CHAPTERS— chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

after the main rush hour had passed, daryl, merle and couple of their buddies piled into the bar, taking a seat around one of the larger tables. merle had just been accepted into the military and was set to depart in a few days time. you still had a while left of your shift and the group of people merle had brought in definitely didn’t make your life any easier. so, in hopes to get them out of your hair a little sooner, you began to prepare a shot of whiskey for each of the boys. picking up the small shot glasses, you began to wander over to their table, their chatter beginning to quiet as you approached them.

“hey boys.” you smiled, bending over in front of daryl and merle to place the shot glasses down in the centre of the table. “these are for you.” you announced, noticing daryl as he couldn’t help but stare at your slightly exposed chest.

“well thanks sugar.” merle sang, scooping up one of the shot into his hand.

“got anythin’ else for us?” one of merle friend teased, wrapping their arm around your waist causing you to stand up straight.

“not for you theres not.” you mumbled, gritting your teeth together as you tried to force a smile.

“get yer hands off her.” daryl grumbled, his eyes angrily locked on merles friend.

“alright.” the man laughed, his hands flicking up into the air to show he was backing off. “don’t get your panties in a twist.” he joked, earning a laugh from the others around the table.

“thats little brothers woman.” merle announce, daryl instantly shutting down as all eyes turned to him before looking over to you. “show some respect.” he spat.

you looked at daryl and smiled as you noticed how embarrassed he had become by his brothers statement. “okay!” you smiled, looking around the table brewing. “let me know if i can get you guys anythin’ else.” you grinned before making your way back to the bar.

daryl didn’t come up to the bar for the rest of that shift. you knew it would take him a while to warm back up to you after such a bold comment from his brother but you were used to it at this point. merle had made similar comments in the past resulting in daryl avoiding you for a few days before coming back around to pretend like nothing ever happened.

an hour or so until you had to close up the bar, merle and his buddies stood up and made their way over to the bar to settle their bill for the night. they were all loud and rowdy, making crude comments about everything they came across, all of them except for daryl who stood at the back of the group staying quiet.

“finally headin’ home?” you smiled, watching merle as he rested his elbows on the sticky surface of the bar.

“we’re only gettin’ starter!” one of his friends cheered, creating a waterfall effect as they all began to cheer.

“you lot gonna give me a good tip?” you asked, carefully watching merle as he fiddled around with his wallet.

“only the best for you sugar.” he smirked, once again earning a few laughs from his friends. “whats the total sweetheart?”

“eighty-nine ninety for the lot of ya.” you smiled.

merle gave you a stern nod before counting the notes he had in his wallet before finding a hundred dollar bill. he plucked it out of his leather wallet, momentarily waving it around in the air before slamming it down onto the sticky surface, finishing off the whole ordeal with a flirtatious wink.

“keep the change sugar.” he smiled before turning around to face the rest of his friends. “come on bogs!” merle cheered, marching towards the front door causing you to let out a breathy laugh.

as the others followed him, daryl made his way up to the bar, his hands resting on the bar as you closed merles tab and placed the bill in the till.

“yer get off soon?” daryl asked just loud enough to hear over the music playing throughout the bar.

“bout an hour.” you shrugged, putting the change left over from the bill into the top of your bra, making sure your boss couldn’t find it.

“need me to wait around?” he asked, avoiding all eye contact with you as you began to clean around the bar.

“i’ll be alright.” you smiled softly. “don’t you need to drive those idiots back anyways?” you asked, a soft chuckle escaping your lips.

“yeah.” he scoffed. “give me a call if yer need a right alright?” daryl asked, his voice was genuine and laced with concern at the idea of you walking all the way home.

“sure.” you smiled, trying to reassure him that you could be alright.

“you comin’ little brotha?” merle shouted, sticking his head through the main door.

“comin!” daryl turned his head to merle before looking back at you. “see yer later.”

you flashed him one last smile before he left, making the bar completely silent. most of the regulars had gone home by this point giving you some time to clean up the bar and hopefully head home early.

you had finished your shift a little before midnight. you chose to walk home, not wanting to bother daryl. you managed to get home in a record time of thirty minutes, the loud music coming from the dixon property could be heard from your house. after quickly checking in on your mother, you made your way to your bedroom where you swapped out your work boots for a pairs of old mary-jane heels that once belonged to your mother before changing into a cleaner shirt, swapping the black singlet out for a dark pink halter top that tied up at the back of your neck. after ruffing up your hair a little with your hands before fixing your smudged mascara you were on your way over to the dixon’s property.

the house reeked of weed and alcohol mixed with the sweat of just about everyone cramped into the small cabin. your body already beginning to move alone to the beat of the music as you made your way through to the kitchen where the dining table was covered in dozens of bottles of cheap liquor. quickly, you found yourself a bottle of whiskey, gripping the neck of the bottle with your hand as you spun around, now tasked with trying to find someone you knew.

“y/n!” you heard a voice called from the seat of people.

pushing his way through the crowd was daryl, with a look of relief as he stood less then a foot away from you.

“hey.” you smiled as he scanned your body before meeting your eyes. he had always loved that top on you. “didn’t think this many people were comin’?” you giggled.

“i didn’t either.” he spoke over the music. “didn’t think yer finished for another hour?” he asked, his eyebrows pinching together.

“got off early.” you grinned, tipping your head back as you took a swig of the alcohol, the liquid burning as it ran down your throat. “where’s yer brother?” you asked.

“smokin’ out the back.” daryl answered.

“want some?” you asked, waving the half empty bottle up by your cheeks as you grinned.

daryl hummed, although you couldn’t hear it and shortly took the bottle from your hand before taking a decent sip of the whiskey. after a few more shared drinks between the two of you, you both made your way to the living room where small groups of people where either dancing or spread out across the couch. you and daryl had almost finished off the bottle of whiskey within an hour.

you found yourself dancing in the middle of the living room alone, having little luck convincing daryl to dance with you. in front of you sat daryl, closely watching you as you freely dance along to the music. although it didn’t feel like it you were there for hours, daryl only ever leaving to grab the pair of you another drink.

“how are you not tired?” daryl asked, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as he watched your hips move along to the music.

“why?” you teased. “yer want me to stop?” you asked in a sarcastic tone as you began to slow your movements, you eyes never drifting from daryl.

“don’t listen to him baby.” the same drunk idiot that felt you up at the bar called out. “keep on dancin’!” he cheered.

“who asked you dickhead?” you snapped, frowning as you looked over at him.

“that time of the much huh sweetheart?” he smirked.

“go fuck yourself asshole.” you spat, the man standing up as he grew bitter towards you.

“hey, come on.” daryl mumbled, holding onto your hand to pull you away from the drunk man. “he’s not worth it.” daryl mumbled, pulling you away from the loud party.

“he’s an ass!” you pouted as daryl pulled you into his bedroom, closing the door behind him as you sat down on his bed.

“think yer should lie down.” he instructed, admittedly a little drunk himself.

you scoffed at his comment, standing up to watch over to daryl. “hey! hey!” you urged, grabbing onto daryl’s hands. “when you told that guy to back off at the bar,” you began to slur, slowly pulling daryl back towards his bed. “that was hot.” you gushed causing daryl’s eyes to widen.

“you’re jus’ sayin’ that ‘cause you’re drunk.” he muttered.

“nah-uh.” you mocked, a smirk still plastered on your lips as your hands parted from his before they attached to the waistband of daryl’s jeans. “i need you daryl.” you breathed, your voice sounding desperate and needy.

“yer don’t want… me o-or that…” he stuttered breathless. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to be with you. he had been wanting this for years now. “you’re drun-“

“shhh.” you hushed, your fingers moving along the waistband before you began to unbutton the jeans, daryl letting out a shaky breath in response. “i’ve wanted you for so long daryl.” you practically sobbed as you looked up into his eyes. your fingers made their way down to the zipper, slowly pulling it down. “don’t you want me?” you asked.

“course i do.” he breathed as his hands instinctively attached themselves to your hips.

you rested your forehead against his as your fingers left his pants, making their way up to his shirt where you began to undo every single button.

“then i’m all yours.” you spoke, those words alone igniting something within daryl as you undid his last button. “all yours.” you repeated.

daryl leant down to close the gap between you, his lips hungrily meeting yours. you had both been waiting for this moment for so long and it did not disappoint. daryl was so soft with you, his fingers gently digging into your skin as he tried to control himself not wanting things to happen too quickly while your hands were busying themselves by peeling away the layers of clothing daryl had on.

everything was so messy and heated, you both just needed each other. what felt like seconds later, you found yourselves on daryl’s unmade bed. your hands cupped his cheeks as he kissed you with every fibre in his body as he hovered over you, keeping himself supported with one hand while the other stayed firmly on your side.

waking up the following morning to the sound of voices a few rooms over, you pulled yourself up from daryl’s empty bed. you were in an old shirt of his and nothing else as you swung your feet over the edge of the bed, your toes touching the carpet as your rubbed your head. last night remained a blurry memory to you, only able to remember snippets throughout the mix that all seemingly blended together the more you tried to think about it. quickly scanning the room you found your skirt, quickly pulling it up to give yourself some sort of coverage before finding your shoes. after having little luck finding your bra and underwear you made your way over to his bedroom door, peaking through the small gap to find an empty room.

as you crept out into the main living space of the house, the floors littered with bottles and cans with the occasional cigarette butt. just as you were about to reach the kitchen one of the bedroom doors swung open.

“little over dress for breakfast ain’t ya?” merle smirker, following you out into the living room as he looked at the mini skirt and oversized shirt combination.

“mornin’ to you too.” you smiled weakly, spinning around on the balls of your feet to face him.

merle walked a little closer to you, his gaze wandering over your body to find a few hickeys peppered over your neck and the top of your chest.

“pretty good night huh?” he teased, the smug smirk never leaving his lips.

“i guess.” you frowned, not entirely sure what he was trying to point out, only warranting a bellowing laugh from merle.

“sure sounded like it.” he grinned, his eyes looking you up and down once again. “to me n’ the others it sounded like you had a good old time.” he chuckled. “i mean, from the moaning alone!” he announced. “faster! faster! faster!” he moaned, laughing at his own impression.

just before you could say anything, daryl walked through the front door holding a bag full of greasy food from the bakery in town.

“oh and here he is!” merle cheered. “our man of the night.”

daryl just stayed quiet, navigating his way through the trashed floor. merle gave you a wink before walking over to his brother, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he let out another laugh. daryl was most definitely embarrassed.

“how was your night little brother?” merle asked, snatching the bag from daryl before taking a bite of the pastry.

daryl looked overwhelming uncomfortable has he stood a few feet away from you, avoiding all eye contact as merle continued to mock and tease the pair of you. merle noticed the awkwardness between you, causing him to let out another belly laugh.

“i’ll give yer some privacy.” he spoke, his voice still laced with sarcastic tones as he walked back towards his bedroom door. “but hey,” he began to laugh. “no fuckin’ on the table, you’ll probably break the legs!” he teased, shortly disappearing into his room.

although he desperately wanted to say something, ask you how you felt or if last night was just something he should forget about but he was far too nervous to say anything. but you knee daryl well enough that he’d speak to you when he was ready.

“i couldn’t find my shirt.” you spoke quietly, causing daryl to look up from his fingers. “so i hope you don’t mind.” you laughed nervously.

“nah it’s alright.” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued to avoid eye contact.

you briefly looked past him to see the time, you had another shift in an hour causing you to let out a weak sigh as you turned your attention back to daryl.

“i’ve got a shift in an hour.” you spoke quietly. “but i’ll see ya later.” you smiled weakly, daryl finally looking up into your eyes for the first time that morning.

“need me to give yer a ride?”

#daryl dixon x original female character #norman reedus #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead #the walkind dead fan fic #pre apocalypse #pre apocalypse daryl #ao3 #ao3fic