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evansbby · 1 year

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𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐭 (𝒑𝒐𝒚𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark alpha!Steve Rogers x naive omega!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: spanking, daddy kink, a/b/o dynamics, misogyny, light fingering, biting, gaslighting, manipulation, animalistic behaviour lmao, 18+, minors dni

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Steve teaches you a lesson you’ll never forget.

𝗔/𝗡: This is a POYT drabble featuring Steve and his omega! Enjoy!

“Omega, baby, come here.”

Steve’s voice is stern, despite the pet name. You freeze from where you’re sat, hunched over your boyfriend’s desk where you’ve got a mountain of homework in front of you. You’d been buried up to your nose in textbooks and notes when he’d come home, and all he’d done was sit and watch you for the past ten minutes.

You immediately get up and make your way over to where he’s sat on the edge of his bed. Pointedly, he pats his thigh and you take a seat on his lap.

“What have I told you about what good omegas should do when their alphas come home?” There’s a dangerous edge to his tone as he casually pushes the fabric of your top aside and fingers your bra strap, snapping it against your skin and making you yelp.

“Good omegas greet their alphas at the door with a hug and kiss.” You recite before looking up at him pleadingly (although not for long because he’s scary and you can’t maintain eye contact for long). “B-But Steve, I was doing homework. I got d-distracted, I’m sorry.”

“Mm, see this is why omegas shouldn’t concern themselves with getting degrees.” Steve muses, stroking your hair casually whilst you sit in his lap, rigid as a statue and your heart beating like crazy. “So busy with schoolwork that you forgot your duty as an omega.”

“I’m sorry.” You bow your head in shame. You can feel the disappointment radiating off of him in waves, and it’s having a major effect on you, as usual.

“I’ve been at home ten minutes now and all you did was smile at me and say hey before going back to your work. When really, you should’ve greeted me with the proper respect befitting of an alpha. I thought you knew better, omega.” Steve shakes his head, twirling a strand of your hair on his finger before giving it a harsh tug.

“I should’ve known better, Steve. But there was a lot of work, you see, and—” There’s a part of you that finds it silly, because you have every right to do your homework. And it’s not like you’d ignored him! But the omega part of you burns with shame because you’ve let him down.

“Shut up.” Steve says calmly and you immediately bow your head again, only to look up when he gives your ass a harsh pinch. “Well? What are you waiting for? Give your alpha a welcome home kiss.”

Heart pitter-pattering, you angle up and tip your head back, pecking his warm lips softly. And it feels so nice, a large part of you just wants to continue kissing, just melt into him and feel his arms around you. Just make out with him forever because it gives you butterflies and he’s such a good kisser.

But Steve doesn’t kiss you back, and you’re too shy to initiate anything. So you pull back and duck your head. The alpha energy exuding from him is making you feel heady and extra submissive, so all you can think to do now is stay put and wait till he gives you permission to go back to your schoolwork.

But the glint in Steve’s eye shows that he has other plans.

“Stand up.” He commands you softly and you do as he says, standing between his legs with the rug soft against your bare feet. “Pull your leggings down. Panties too.”

You blink. He wanted to have sex? Well, that wasn’t surprising since Steve always wanted sex. It didn’t matter where you were, what time it was or what mood he was in.

You do as you’re told, feeling the cool air against your bare legs as you strip. It’s strange though, usually Steve takes your clothes off for you (something about how it’s an Alpha’s job to undress his omega). You wonder why this time is different—

“Bend over my lap.”

You blink before realisation seeps through your brain, and you see his hand flexing and waiting by his side. Oh no. He couldn’t possibly be wanting to spank you, could he??

Instinctively, you shake your head. “S-Steve, please, I said I was sorry! Please! I won’t do it again!” You desperately think of all the ways you can make it up to him. Cook him his favourite dinner and dessert? And maybe a big breakfast spread tomorrow? You had an assignment due the next day but you could ask for an extension if it meant keeping your alpha happy.

But Steve’s handsome features remain stoic. “Get over my knee, omega. And if you make me repeat myself one more time, there’ll be hell to pay for you.”

You find yourself over his knee and face to face with the bedsheets, quivering in his arms as he lifts your oversized t shirt up. You suck in your breath when you feel the expanse of his hand stroking your ass.

“I’m punishing you because you deserve it.” His voice is deathly calm and it frightens you. “And maybe after this is over, you’ll learn to be a good omega and get your priorities straight.”

Never in your life had you been spanked before. Sure, Steve liked to slap your ass all the time; during sex or even casually in public. But this was different, being bent over the knee of your alpha like you were some kind of chastised child, your body stripped away of any sort of autonomy as it surrenders to him.

“I’ll be nice to you, since you’re a baby and it’s your first ever spanking after all.” Steve smirks, hand still stroking and squeezing your ass, “I’ll only give you ten smacks, although you deserve more than double that amount for forgetting to greet me. But I’m not heartless, so you better thank me for being nice.”

You sniff, feeling like a child who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar — despite the fact that your offence wasn’t even that bad! But you feel so submissive, so you nod sadly and give in to your fate. “Th-Thank you for being nice.”

SMACK.

His hand cracks down on your bare ass, hard as a whip and you cry out in shock and pain. That hurt! But Steve is unperturbed by your pain, giving your searing ass cheek a rough squeeze. “That was for not addressing me properly.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m sorry…Thank you for being nice, daddy.”

Steve sighs, leisurely stroking your ass while you lay over his knee with bated breath, never knowing when the next blow will happen. “God, you have such a pretty baby ass.” He grabs one cheek lewdly and gives it a jiggle, “So cute and round, practically begging for a smack.”

He’s taking his sweet time, and it’s too intense, and you can’t help but look up at him pleadingly, “S-Steve, please, I said I was sor—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Steve says sharply, pinching your butt meanly, and you cry out in pain. “You’re not making this any easier for yourself, omega. I know you’re a dumb little baby who’s scared but that doesn’t mean you get to skip out on punishments. Keep your eyes on the floor, and if you look up at me again, I swear I’ll use my belt.”

The threat has your heart racing and palms sweating, and you look back down as Steve resumes playing with your ass. His expert fingers know exactly how to touch you, stroke your skin, pinch and prod you till you’re panting and trying to squeeze your thighs together. You’re still scared but you can’t help but feel your wetness seeping down your legs (and onto his thigh).

SMACK.

His palm collides with your ass harder than the first time, and you cry out, fisting the bedsheets and biting your lip.

“Count for me, baby.” He commands you, “and thank me after each one.”

“O-One.” You cry softly. “Thank you, d-daddy.”

SMACK.

Another hard blow, and you swallow harshly because it hurts already and you still have eight more to go, and you can’t help but sob, “Two. Thank you, daddy.”

“Aww, crying already, baby?” Steve coos, stroking your burning ass. “And just remember, I’m going easy on you. Next time you slip up, it’ll be the paddle or my belt.”

The punishment continues, smack after smack cracking down on your ass till you’re writhing in pain, crying as the tears flow freely down your face, and Steve has to use his other leg to pin you down and keep you in place as the burning pain is proving too much to handle.

“Gonna bruise your little ass up real good, omega.” He promises you, voice deep with lust. You can feel his dick, angry and hard through his jeans, poking up against your stomach.

“Fuck, you don’t even know how bad I’ve been wanting to teach you a lesson like this.” He gives your ass cheek another jiggle, squeezing it hard as if it’s a toy. “Before I’d claimed you, when I’d see you walking around, bending over to pick something up, your cute little ass poking out for everyone to see.”

SMACK. This slap is harder than ever, and you sob as you count and thank him, barely getting the words out as Steve grows more and more excited.

“And everyone would fucking stare at you.” He continues darkly, stopping his assault and instead stroking the sizzling skin of your backside, getting dangerously close to your slippery core.

“And like the dumb omega you are, you never even noticed. Fuck, I should’ve pulled you aside and fucking smacked your ass raw right there in the middle of campus, in front of all of them. Maybe then they’d have realised you were never a free piece of ass to begin with.”

SMACK.

You cry and cry as he has his way with you, his palm colliding with your sensitive ass over and over again. And the force of each smack has your clit — all puffed up and engorged — rub deliciously against the material of his jeans. The rough denim creates friction against your bundle of nerves, mixing a dangerous cocktail of burning pain and pleasure within you as your cream leaks down his leg.

“Tell me who this little baby ass belongs to, omega.” Steve orders you between smacks.

“You!”

“Say it again. Louder. Tell me exactly who owns your sweet little ass.”

“Daddy! You own my ass, you own it!” You sob, hoping it’ll be over because you’ve counted more then ten smacks now. In fact, you’ve lost count.

But Steve is still incensed, raining smack after smack down on your poor rear end — even though he’d promised only ten! But you can’t argue with him, can’t protest. All you can do is cry and take the assault.

“Damn right. You’re my fucking omega and that means I can beat your little ass whenever the fuck I want, you hear me? And you’re just a weak little baby, so just shut the fuck up and take it.”

He alternates between both your ass cheeks, landing blow after blow before coming to a sudden stop. You sniffle, the tears blurring your vision and the pain mixed with the desire between your legs making you heady. Steve spreads your ass cheeks slowly, pressing a probing finger against your puckered hole.

You gasp, the unfamiliar feeling of his finger there sending sparks down to your core. But all he does is trail downwards, dangerously close to your pussy which throbs with need.

“P-Please.” You garble through your tears, earning another hefty slap.

Steve leisurely swirls his finger through your dripping wet folds, gathering your sticky cream and spreading up on your burning ass.

“Wet from a spanking.” He whistles lowly, “how slutty can you get, omega? Does getting hit make you horny? Huh?” He gives you another hard slap, “I asked you a question, baby. Does getting spanked make your little pussy wet?”

“Yes!” You sob, “Steve! Daddy, please!” And you don’t even know what you’re begging for. For him to stop spanking you? For him to touch you down there? You don’t know, but you just feel so needy, all the sensations clouding your judgement as Steve’s attention goes back to your ass.

“I’m not even close to done with you.” Steve murmurs before licking his palm and cracking down on your poor ass cheek once more, the sound reverberating off the walls as you cry in pain. “I’ll make sure you can’t sit straight for a week, baby. Maybe that’ll teach you to be the dutiful little omega you were always meant to be.”

SMACK.

Your rear end feels fiery and numb at the same time, Steve’s onslaught never-ending as he alternates between smacks and pinches. Your flesh feels sore and abused, and Steve’s boner only grows harder underneath you.

“Mine. All fucking mine.” Steve growls, his blows growing more animalistic. And then, with a rumble from his chest, he leans down over you. And before you know what’s happening, you howl in pain when you feel his teeth clamp down on the sizzling flesh of your ass, biting down hard as if your ass is a piece of meat.

His bite is so hard, so animalistic, that you know he’s drawn blood. And you know it’ll leave a mark on the sensitive skin of your backside. But he doesn’t care, clamping down hard while his strong arms hold you in place. And when he finally detaches his teeth from your skin, he licks it all up. Licking stripes up and down your ass, practically devouring it as if it’s a toy for him to use and abuse how he pleases.

“Mine.” Steve whispers against your fiery hot flesh, ignoring your cries as he nuzzles his face against your ass, teeth grazing against the sizzling, broken skin as if he’s tempted to bite you again. As if he’s been taken over by some kind of wild beast inside him, one that wants to claim you in the rawest, most animalistic way possible. Instead, he licks and sucks and nips at your flesh, “Don’t you fucking disrespect me like that again, baby. I can do so much more damage than this.”

SMACK.

The final blow is harder than any of the ones before it, like the crack of a whip on your backside, leaving you crying harder than ever before.

And then he jolts you upwards so you’re sat on his knee, and the contact between your ass and the rough denim has you sobbing and sobbing in pain, feeling all sorts of vulnerable and submissive and scared.

“Y-You said… Y-You said only ten!” You sob in his arms. Your ass is on fire and you feel like he’d smacked you about thirty times at least.

“I know, baby.” Steve sounds surprisingly gentle but you can hear the smirk in his voice. “But as your alpha, I need to have a firm hand. And I knew you wouldn’t learn your lesson with just ten spanks. Daddy knows what’s best for you, baby. And don’t you have anything to say to me now?”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I’m so s-sorry!” You burst out, only wanting his approval. It’s like his spanking has broken something inside you, making you feel like you need his approval and forgiveness or else you’ll die. “W-Won’t do it again, daddy, I pr-promise.”

Steve smiles as he smooths your hair back, before casually gathering your tears on his finger when he strokes your cheeks. “You better hope you don’t do it again. Next time I come home, I expect you to greet me at the door, you got that?”

You nod desperately through your tears, heart thudding in your chest when finally, Steve hugs you close, giving your tear-stained cheek a soft kiss while he holds you and allows you to sob into his chest, repeating the words ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again.

“And look, you’ve made a huge mess on my jeans.” Steve tsks, and he’s got a glint in his eye as he surveys the huge wet spot on his thigh. You duck your head in shame, burying your face in his shoulder because you feel all small and vulnerable and afraid. “I should take you over my knee again, baby, for making such a mess.”

“Please no!” You sob quietly, wanting to be held and hugged by him but too shy and distraught and in pain to ever voice this desire. “ ‘m sorry, Steve. D-Didn’t mean to, it just happened.”

Steve continues to stroke your head as if you’re his little pet, pressing kisses on your hairline while his arms hug you tightly. And you know he’s the reason your ass is on fire right now, but it’s still this gentle touch from him that you crave. You feel so especially needy, wanting to cling to him like a koala.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling nice today, omega.” He tells you, standing up and picking you up along with him. “Now tell me, do you want to go back to studying?”

You glance back at your textbooks, strewn open and dejected on his desk, before immediately shaking your head, burying your face into his chest once more and holding onto him tightly. Your brain feels scrambled and disoriented, your ass feels numb with pain, and the omega inside you is crying to stay in your alpha’s arms. Studying would have to wait.

Steve smiles, the wicked glint in his eyes still present. “That’s my good girl. Always remember that I come first.” He presses his lips against yours and you welcome the kiss, desperately kissing him back and clutching his sweater as he holds you close.

“I’ll run us a bath, baby. See, daddy has to discipline you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be nice too.”

A/N: SKDJSKSKSKA IDEK YALL!!! WHAT DO U THINK ???

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #chris evans #chris evans x reader #poyt drabble

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flowerinjuries · 1 year

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nct 127 kinks !

pls dni if ur not 18+!

taeil

switch! dom-leaning

really likes to be in control bc he lovesss to tease u!!

when he’s domming, he’s rlly into bondage! expect him to have a collection of ropes and ties for you

he’s also rlly into lingerie - anything delicate with lots of lace is definitely his cup of tea

he’s pretty laidback overall, no hard kinks but he does love when u put on a show for him like a strip tease

when he’s subbing he just loves to see u have ur fun with him! he loves seeing his baby use him for their own pleasure :(

johnny

dominant lol

no super hard kinks but he’s definitely a dom and loves seeing u be on ur hands and knees for him

he loves being praised too. honestly he just loves showing off for you.

will take u at any time on any surface all u gotta do is ask

i can see him being into handcuffs

like taeil, johnny also appreciates pretty lingerie but he prefers a sexier look like dark colors and garter belts

johnny is so boyfriend to me so everything with him is pretty loving and casual lol i also see him having lots of quickies just bc he thought u looked sexy and couldn’t resist

he definitely calls u babe, maybe the occasional ‘whore’ if he’s feeling extra dirty

johnny’s just hot idk what else to say

taeyong

switch! sub-leaning

yongie loves when u use him as ur pretty lil doll

he will do anything u ask bc he’s a good boy that just wants to make u happy

he loves when u manhandle him: using a leash, pulling his hair, just overall being rlly rough

he never disobeys u bc he just loves u so much and he also wants u to please him as a reward

when ur tired or stressed out though sometimes u just need ty to take the lead and use u too

he’s gentle but also rough with u bc he knows u like that

there’s only one thing he loves more than being praised and that’s praising u

overall he’s just the most caring partner who puts your needs before his <3

yuta

the sex god himself…extremely dominant if u didn’t know…

he is definitely a brat tamer

he loves putting ur bratty mouth to good use..he’s so rough so he always pushes u down on ur knees and grabs the back of ur head to force ur face into his cock, “well it’s not gonna suck itself now is it, slut?”

he just needs to fuck the attitude out of his baby

i just know he has an evil laugh whenever he catches u doing something he doesn’t like

he’s so so mean he will edge u for hours

loves using u to get himself off, then taunts u, “aw, did u want to cum too? well too fucking bad”

definitely a sadist

yanks your hair, spanks u hard, maybe slaps ur cheek

he loves to see u cry bc of him. it’s his favorite sight to see bc ur just so pretty when ur full of him as tears spill out ur eyes and over ur bruised lips :(

ur his lil prince/princess so he always gives in to you no matter how tough he wants to seem

so maybe one day u say u wanna try domming him (he definitely giggled at this) but he lets u have ur fun (only for so long..until he flips the script and is fucking into u super hard)

some things he really likes are knife play and bondage..like i said he’s definitely a sadist

but despite him being so rough and dominant he’s the absolute BEST at aftercare. he will clean u up and run u a bath..then hold u in his arms the rest of the night whispering sweet nothings as u fall asleep (i’m crying)

doyoung

i wanna say he’s a very sadistic dom but i can see him being a lil bit submissive at times so i’ll say he’s a switch

he’s more quiet than yuta and way more mysterious. doyoung as a dom is SCARY. he’s also a brat tamer but he will not give into your wants.. he is going to punish u whether u like it or not

spanks u until ur dark red and have his hand prints in ur skin

he’s very very possessive of u so don’t piss him off

he’s kind of a pervert though..probably has used ur lingerie to help him get off when u weren’t there

^^^he steals ur underwear

thinks about u alllllll the time.. he’s obsessed

uses his belt to tie u up

this man is crazy

onto his submissive side…

he just loves u so he just wants to make u feel good

very whiny

will let u tie him up to keep things equal

i feel like he’d be into sensation play like using hot wax or ice cubes..maybe even electrocution

anyways doyoung is very interesting :D

jaehyun

switch but very dom leaning

this man.. i am sweating

yes u call him daddy ok i’m sorry

he just loves to be on top and in control what can i say

jaehyun also loves to fuck

he could glance at u and get horny

his sex drive is so high…

really likes sex to be rough and hard

he’s not that into toys bc he thinks his hands are better

loves to wrap his hands around your throat

also loves to slap his hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he drills into u from behind with your back flush up against his front

his voice is so sexy and he knows it so he’s really into dirty talk

calls u all sorts of degrading nasty names like slut, whore, fuck doll

but also is soft and tells u ur doing a good job and that ur his good girl/boy .. his sweet baby <3 you’d do anything for him too bc u just love him so much

loves getting his dick sucked too

when he’s subby he’s extra vocal..begging and begging for u to do anything

but u love to tease him

sex with jaehyun is so much fun

jungwoo

i cant see this man domming anyone for shit so i’m going to say he’s a sub

god he’s so fucking whiny

just give him what he wants and tell him he’s a good boy… jk i think u should be rough with him and edge him

he acts all sweet but i swear he’s so bratty

loves to piss u off then pretend he did nothing wrong

he’s kinda tall but i think he should get manhandled .. he just likes to be controlled

he’s so mischievous

pushes u to ur absolute edge.. he wants to see u go as far as possible

he definitely has a toy collection and loves trying new things!! he is very experimental

maybe he’s also an exhibitionist idk i just see him not giving any fucks if he gets caught

jungwoo is so much fun but also a headache

mark

100% switch no doubts

when he’s domming he likes to be rough with u but he’s also very careful and asks u “is this ok?” after everything he does

once u give him the go though his brain turns to mush and there’s no going back

he fucks so fast

chokes u with his whole arm around ur throat

also into filming u two going at it just so he can watch later

i think he really loves oral sex, can go down on u for hours and not expect anything in return

just loves to see ur bodies tangled together

loves having his hair pulled and his neck sucked on

he’s vocal but he doesn’t want to be. will whisper curse words but immediately put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from moaning.

he gets so turned on knowing that he’s the one making u feel so good

god he just loves touching u.. ur so perfect to him

edges himself without telling u just bc he wants the sex to last as long as possible

he’s so sweet with aftercare too..brushes ur hair and brings u water

mark lee is the sweetest (but he can be as rough as u want)

haechan

also not sure on him.. he’s for sure dominant but could possibly also be submissive

sadist! sadist! sadist!

dominant hyuck is so so mean

hates giving u what u want bc ur just a pathetic little bitch that won’t shut the fuck up

might have to tape ur mouth shut

loves to take his time with u

will tease and tease until ur screaming

u annoy him so much but he loves fucking u more than anything so eventually he caves

haechan will definitely spit in ur mouth and force u to swallow it

also loves when he brings u to tears

he’s going to overstimulate u

he’s so selfish

i think he’d be into somnophilia

haechan is a good boy though don’t get me wrong

if he’s subbing then he’s very loud and does whatever u say just bc he wants to cum

ofc u let him <3

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct au #nct fanfic #nct smut #yuta smut #taeyong smut #nakamoto yuta smut #doyoung smut #haechan smut #mark lee smut #johnny suh smut #taeil smut #jungwoo smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months

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I NEED a part 3 of the step-cest one like the cliffhanger omgg ✋😭

left me wanting more 😖

Here ya go! :)

Pleaser - Stepbrother!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 3

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 1, Part 2

Summary: Ethan has more creative ways to sneak around with you

A/N: I got so many requests for this within the last 24 hours. I hope y'all like it, and if you want me to write more for it, let me know!

You were almost asleep when you heard your phone vibrate on the nightstand beside you. You checked it, curious to see who would be texting you at almost midnight. You smiled when your eyes adjusted and saw Ethan’s name.

Ethan: You still up?

You: I was almost asleep, but someone decided to text me🙄

Ethan: I’m sorry, I’ll let you get some rest, but I wanted to show you something😏

You waited as you stared at the screen, seeing a video pop up. You clicked on it to see Ethan shirtless with his pants halfway down his thighs and his hard cock in his hand. He was quietly moaning your name as he stroked it, before his bottom lip went in between his teeth to keep himself quiet when his whimpers got louder. His tip was red as his precum was leaking out, his hand movements speeding up because he was so needy. Within seconds, his head fell back as his cum shot out, all over his abs.

You were salivating at the video, wanting nothing more than to be with him.

You: I wish that camera wasn’t in the hallway. I’d lick that cum off you👅

Ethan: Fuck I wish you could

You: Why’d you have to send that to me? I’m so wet right now

Ethan: I didn’t get to cum earlier, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how amazing your pussy feels

You: What’s this plan you have? Because I don’t know how to not have you in my bed with me

Ethan: I’ll tell you tomorrow, baby. Get some sleep.😘

You: Goodnight

It took you forever to fall asleep as the thoughts of Ethan ran though your mind. You couldn’t believe how crazy the day was. You couldn’t believe you got caught. But the one thing you really couldn’t believe was that your mom and Wayne separating meant you actually had a chance with Ethan.

The next morning, your mom walked into your room to wake you up. You hadn’t spoken to her since she mentioned wanting to install the cameras, and you hated that she no longer trusted you.

“Good morning,” she said, opening the curtains to let the sunlight pour in.

“Ughhh,” you groaned out, the exhaustion from only a few hours of sleep made you pull the comforter over your head.

“You need to get up. I want to discuss a few things with you before I leave,” she said, taking a seat at the foot of your bed.

You pulled the comforter off your head, your tired eyes meeting hers.

“I’ll get a notification every time there’s movement in front of the cameras. Don’t think I won’t be watching. If I see anything happening that I shouldn’t be, you’re going to stay with your dad until Ethan and Wayne move out,” her tone was stern, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes.

“Why is it that the second you find out I’m not perfect, you think I can’t be trusted?�� you asked, genuinely curious.

She sighed, not knowing how to answer your question.

“I graduated with honors, I got early acceptance into college, and I do everything you ask of me. I just don’t get it,” you said, sitting up. “I know that wasn’t something you wanted to see, but if you and Wayne are separating, why is it a big deal?”

“It’s a big deal because right now, he’s still your stepbrother. You’re under the same roof. I just can’t trust you around him. All the teenage hormones are obviously too much for the two of you,” she said, standing up to leave. “I’m sorry you feel like your privacy has been stripped away, but it’s the only way I feel comfortable leaving you here with him and not sending you to your dads house two hours away from here.”

She closed the door behind her as she walked out. You threw your pillow at the door, the soft sound it made when it hit the floor very unsatisfying.

“Fuck,” you said, grabbing your phone. You saw a text from Ethan.

Ethan: Good morning, beautiful. I’m going to make you breakfast. Come to the kitchen in 20.😊

You: I didn’t know you could cook🧐

Ethan: There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me

You smiled as you locked your phone, deciding to get up to shower. You couldn’t shake the creepy feeling of the cameras, so you looked all around the bathroom, making sure there wasn’t one in there before shedding your clothes.

You looked over your tired appearance in the mirror, hoping the shower would help. You cut the water on, noticing that it wasn’t getting very hot. You assumed it was from everyone else showering before you, so you decided to make it quick. As you tried to wash the shampoo out of your hair, the water turned ice cold. You squealed at the sudden temperature change, your teeth starting to chatter as you hurried through the rest of your shower faster than you thought was possible.

After you got out, you saw a text pop up from your mom.

Mom: If you’re showering, don’t walk out in a towel. Put your robe on.

You rolled your eyes as you dried off, still freezing from the cold shower. You put your robe on, stopping to do a spin in the hallway for your mother that seems to be watching your every move, before going to your room to get dressed.

When you walked towards the kitchen, the delicious aroma of what Ethan was making made your mouth water. You walked up beside him as he stood in front of the stove, wanting so badly to hug him. You looked behind you to see the camera on the wall.

“I feel like a prisoner,” you whispered, as Ethan started to laugh.

“The good news is, I disabled the audio. They can’t hear anything we talk about,” he said, placing a pancake onto the small stack he’d already made.

“Aren’t they going to notice?” you asked, speaking at a normal volume.

“No, I told dad to tell your mom that it doesn’t record audio. He doesn’t see the point in them knowing what we talk about,” he let out a small laugh as he spoke.

“You should’ve heard the awkward conversation I had to have this morning. If we get caught doing anything, I have to go live with my dad until you move out.”

Ethan started to laugh again as you cocked your eyebrow at him.

“I wonder if your mom realizes you’re two windows down from me. This is a one-story house,” he said, smiling.

“So that’s your plan? You’re going to get into my room from the outside?” you smirked, as he carried the stack of pancakes over to the table he set for the two of you.

“Yep. She’ll never know.”

After breakfast, that’s what he did. He went to his room a few minutes before you went to yours, hoping that it would seem a little less obvious. The last thing he wanted was for your mom to get suspicious. You opened your window, your head hanging out as you watched Ethan jump out of his. He walked over to you, placing a kiss to your lips before climbing in.

“Hey,” he said, wrapping his arms around you as you stood in front of him.

“Hi,” you said, as you nuzzled into his chest.

He held you there for a while, not wanting to let you go.

“You look so beautiful today,” he said, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah, the whole ‘no makeup, damp hair, after an ice-cold shower’ thing really makes me feel attractive,” you joked, finally pulling away from him to lead him towards your bed.

“You’re always beautiful,” he said, sighing as he relaxed on your bed. “Come here, baby.”

You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as the two of you cuddled in comfortable silence, just enjoying each other’s presence. His hand rubbed against your back as you started to doze off.

After a couple hours, you woke up to your phone ringing. You smiled as you looked at Ethan, his eyes dazed as he tried to wake up too.

“Fuck, it’s my mom. Be quiet,” you said, as he laughed a little. “I’m serious!”

Your eyes were staring him down as he watched you answer the call, a smirk playing on his lips as he got in between your legs.

“Hello?” you answered, as his hands started to run up your thighs.

“Hey, just wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing,” she said, as you heard her eating her lunch.

“I’m not with Ethan if that’s why you’re asking,” you mumbled, your eyes going wide as his hands slid under the waistband of your leggings. He slowly slid them, along with your panties down your thighs, his eyes looking into yours as he smiled.

“I know you’re not. I’ve had the camera app pulled up at my desk all day,” she said, as Ethan started to place open-mouthed kisses up your legs, starting at your ankles.

“Well, I’m trying to watch a movie, can we talk when you get home?” you asked, as his mouth started to reach your inner thighs.

“No, I wanted to talk. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you asked me this morning about not trusting you,” she sighed, as your bottom lip went in between your teeth. When Ethan’s eyes met yours, he raised up to mouth ‘Be quiet’. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he leaned back down, gently licking your clit.

“Are you there?” your mom asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. This movie is just really good,” you said, your hand tangling in Ethan’s hair.

“Okay, maybe we should just talk later, then. My lunch is almost over, anyway,” she said, as Ethan’s tongue started to move faster against you.

“Okay, love you,” you said, your voice sounding a little strained.

“Are you okay?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Yeah, it’s a scary movie,” you said, trying to pull it together long enough to get her to hang up.

“Oh, okay. I’ll be home in a few hours. Love you, too,” she said, before you heard the beeping that the call had ended.

You let out all the whimpers you had to keep deep inside of you as you locked your phone, your hands lightly tugging at his hair.

“Oh fuck,” you mewled, as you felt one of his fingers slip inside of you. He soon added another one, angling them just right to hit the spot you needed him to. “Right there, baby.”

His fingers started to press harder into that spot, as the sounds of your moans and wetness echoing off the walls. He looked up to see your lip between your teeth again, your moans muffled as your eyebrows knitted together. Over the last few days, he’s taken in what all of your facial expressions mean during sex. He knew your current one meant that you were getting close. Well, that and the tightening grip on his hair.

He groaned against your clit at the feeling, your hips starting to shake at the vibrations. He started to hum against you as your hips moved against his mouth and fingers.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned out, your core spasming around his fingers.

His movements slowed down as he worked you through it, not wanting to overstimulate you too much. He placed one last lick to your clit, before crawling back up to lay on the bed beside you.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, your breathing still irregular.

He laughed as his hand ran up your arm.

“I think I have a new kink,” he said, looking over to you. “There’s just something so hot about the idea of getting caught.”

You playfully smacked his chest as he faked hurt.

“Hey, you liked it, though!” he uttered, defending his actions.

“You just wait until it’s your dad calling one day to check on you,” you smirked, as your hand ran over the hard cock in his jeans.

He pulled your hand away, lacing your fingers with his. You gave him a confused look as he smiled at you.

“I don’t want you to think the only thing I care about is fucking you. You’re way more than that,” he said, “As bad as I want it, making you cum is all I needed.”

You smiled at him, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips.

“So are you just going to hold out until later tonight and send me another video?” you joked, laying your head back on his chest.

“You have no idea how many nights I’ve jerked off thinking about you,” he said, his hand moving to your hair.

#ethan landry #scream smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut

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fendiiula · 1 year

Text

⸻ punishment , e. jeager x black reader

summary; Eren hates when you get all bratty he hates it even most when you call him out his name You got sappy with him so he has to put you in check

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻ ⸻

“Eren please” he had you bent over while he gave u back shots, he always hated when you got smart with him, it’s like you never learn.

Eren hates being called out his name, earlier you got mad at eren because he liked another girls post and called him ‘bitch’ boy you have never seen him this mad. Not even 1 minute later he grabbed your collar and took you to y’all’s room.

The only words that left his mouth was “strip” you knew if you didn’t comply your punishment would be even worse. So you did exactly as told, the only thing you left on was your underwear you bit your lip while watching him unbuckle his belt, boy was he a sore sight.

His green eyes focus on undoing his belt, his hair slightly falling out of his man bun you knew you were in for a rude awakening. “You wanna act like a fucking brat all the time, this what you fucking want y/n?”

He flipped your body over into doggy but standing up and pushed all of his 9 inches into you no prep no nothing just your wet pussy being enough lube for him. The first thrust was enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

“F-fuck rennn it’s too much” you gasp for air. He knew you were gonna complain about all of him inside you but he knew you all too well, he knows you’ll be able to take him.

“Shut up, you wanna be a brat well this is what brats like you get.” His paste sped up tremendously, you tried to slow him down by putting your hand on his torso but that only just pisses him off.

He grabbed you hands and put them behind your back and continues to pound your pretty pussy.

“Nghh s-shitt y/n” eren felt as though he was on cloud 9 the way you tighted around him everytime he thrusted he could tell you were getting close so he pulled out

“E.j what are yo— ohhh fuckkk” eren stuffed himself in your tight hole all at once. He went faster then he did before and his dick was making your belly fill so fucking full, he smacked your ass so hard it left a tint in your melanated skin. This man drives you so fucking crazy he was fucking you so good you felt like you were seeing stars.

Erens dick started twitching in you and you knew he was getting close. The room was filled with clapping skin, whimpers and moans eren picks up his paste feeling his high coming.

you felt like you were gonna explode any second. “Gah shit I’m cumming I’m c-fuckkk” eren throws his head back as all his kids are now sitting in your pussy. He kept thrusting but it got slower you were so close but before you could cum eren pulls out again.

It takes you a while but you realize that he’s done fucking you, this was your true punishment he was gonna leave You unsatisfied.“eren please I’m sorry j-just please make me cum please I’ll do anything.” You flipped onto your back, Oh how he love to here you beg he looked down at you with a smirk on his face.

You look so gorgeous, sweat dripping down your forehead, runny mascara gasping for air, your cute tummy going up n down while your trying to catch your breath, hard nipples ready for him to suck, and his cum dripping out of your pussy such a beautiful sight.

How could he say no to you, he leaned down for what you thought was a kiss but in reality he told you “then it wouldn’t be a punishment now would it Ma.” He sucked on your neck a little before laying on the bed about to smoke.

“touch yourself and maybe I’ll consider it my love” he smirked while lighting.

#eren smut #blackreader #eren jaeger x reader #anime #toxic!eren

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semperama · 2 months

Note

Soak + dosh please

This is way too long for tumblr and I'm sorry, but it totally ran away with me. Also there is going to be a Part 2, I promise. Also I'll put it on AO3 later when I can think of a title lmao. Please forgive me because I have no idea how to write Josh yet, but this was fun!!

----

It’s probably crazy for Daniel to be in the back half of his 30s and still feel like a fucking imposter all the time.

He opens the door to Josh tossing a football back and forth from hand to hand, mouth curved into a grin, and has to bite down on the inside of his cheek just until it hurts, just to make sure this is real. He heard a story once—maybe an urban legend—about a man who was in a coma and thought he lived a whole entire life, great job and wife and kids and the whole nine. Sometimes he thinks that could be him. F1 driver, friends with fucking—movie stars and NFL players. It’s all a little much when just a minute ago he was a kid with goofy hair and crooked teeth and a sense of humor no one got.

“Hey,” Josh says, with his stupid handsome face. “Good to see you, man.”

Daniel steps back to let Josh in and wills the blood vessels in his face to fucking cool it. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he jokes. Another thing to be self-conscious about, this stupid-huge house that’s always empty. It’d be great for parties, but Daniel’s never thrown one.

They should have made other plans, Daniel thinks. A concert. A movie. A bar. Hanging out at home—who does that? Teenagers?

“Humble indeed,” Josh says with a chuckle, elbowing Daniel in the ribs as he walks by. “They don’t pay you anything to drive those cars, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m barely scraping by.” Daniel settles into the banter, grateful for it. “Can I get you anything? I have water, stale bread, maybe some mouse droppings…”

Josh throws his head back at that one, his laugh sending electric tingles down Daniel’s spine. “No beer hidden anywhere?” he asks, and Daniel grins at him, indulgent.

“I think I can rustle one up for you, maybe.”

He waves Josh out to the patio and then heads into the kitchen to grab two bottles out of the fridge. It’s the middle of the season, just a couple weeks until he has to be in Austin, so he probably should be sticking to clear liquor if anything, but who’s here to judge him?

“Did you bring that for me?” Daniel asks when he emerges into the sunshine, nodding at the football Josh cradles in one palm as the takes the beer bottle from Daniel with the other.

The corner of Josh’s mouth tilts upward. “You just about creamed yourself last time we tossed the ball around,” he says. “I figured I’d make your day.”

“My year, more like.” Daniel can’t deny it; Josh has his number on this one. “I don’t want you to be bored, though. You do this for a living.”

“You ever get tired of racing?” Josh asks.

Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Touche.”

There’s no grassy field behind Daniel’s house to play in, but they make do with the long strip of pool deck, all the chairs pushed to the side. At first, they just toss the ball back and forth lazily. That’s honestly enough for Daniel, just watching the satisfying spiral of the ball and feeling the slap of leather against his palms. It’s warm and breezy and Josh keeps grinning at him—he could do it all fucking day.

But eventually he gets antsy, wants to make sure Josh is still having fun, so he starts trying to make things difficult, prancing back and forth, sometimes running to the other side of the pool. It feels better when Josh is laughing at him. It feels like he’s pulling his weight.

“Come on, really throw one,” he says, holding his hands up in preparation. Josh chuckles at him, pulls his arm back, hesitates, and then lets it fly. This time, when it hits Daniel’s hands, the sound is loud, echoing. It fucking stings.

Daniel wants it again.

“Is that, like, your maximum?” he asks as he lobs it back.

Josh grins and shakes his head. “Nah, man. I don’t want to hurt you. You gotta be able to hold a steering wheel in a few days.”

“Oh, come on,” Daniel says, hopping from foot to foot and shaking out his arms. “You won’t hurt me. I can take it.”

Josh quirks and eyebrow at him. “You sure do talk a big talk, Ricciardo.”

All the blood rushes to Daniel’s face. He can only hope he’s already red enough from exertion and the sun that Josh won’t notice. Josh seems so fucking implacable, but Daniel’s been soaked in sweat and breathing hard for a while now, his t-shirt clinging to his chest. He pinches the fabric and unsticks it, letting some of the breeze in, but doesn’t help much.

“Just once,” Daniel says, unable to help the pleading note in his voice. “I want to know what it’s like.”

Josh walks over to the table near the house where their sweating beer bottles sit and takes a long swig. Daniel watches the bob of his throat, watches him lick the moisture from his bottom lip when he sets the bottle back down. When he turns back toward Daniel, he starts tossing the ball from hand to hand again, putting a spin on it, the silence stretching until it makes Daniel’s skin prickle with discomfort.

“Alright,” Josh says at last, “but I don’t want to hear your crying if it hurts.” He beckons Daniel with two fingers. “Come here. I need to show you how to catch it first.”

“I know how to catch it,” Daniel says, but he jogs over anyway.

“You know how to catch a ball thrown by a buddy,” Josh says. When Daniel stops a couple feet away, Josh lunges for his wrist and drags him in closer. “You don’t know how to catch a pass thrown by one of the most powerful arms in the NFL.”

“Fuck,” Daniel says, embarrassingly, out loud. He jerks his wrist out of Josh’s hand and wipes his palms on his shorts. “Fine, fine. Show me, then.”

Josh tucks the ball into his armpit, then cups his hands together, a foot or so out from his chest. “This is the way you have been catching it,” he says. “Which is good if you’re a professional receiver. But this time—” He brings his hands to his chest and turns his palms upward— “let it hit your chest first and kinda fall into your hands.”

He motions for Daniel to show him, and Daniel mimics his hand placement as best he can, hands cupped near his stomach. Josh rolls his eyes and puts his hands under Daniel’s, nudging them upward and squeezing, molding them into the shape he wants. His fingers are softer than Daniel thought they’d be, maybe a little callused but still gentle. Daniel can feel his heart thundering against his ribs, and he can only hope Josh can’t feel it too, close as he is.

“And, uh,” Daniel says, voice cracking, “what’ll happen if I don’t to it right?”

“Oh, nothin’ much.” Josh grins, winks at him. “Just a broken finger or two, maybe. But I hear you already have some experience with that anyway.”

Daniel lets out a nervous, high-pitched giggle. “Christ.”

“I’m just messing with you,” Josh says. “I’ve never broken anyone’s fingers.” He pushes on Daniel’s shoulder, like he’s trying to wrestle some of the tension out of him, then points past Daniel’s ear to the far side of the pool. “Go to that corner over there. Then put your hands like I showed you. I’ll put the ball where it needs to be, and you’ll be fine.”

If Josh keeps talking like that, Daniel’s pretty sure he’s going to embarrass the hell out of himself. His shorts are too loose, too thin, and he’s already half hard in them. He wonders, sometimes, if players get like this during games, if it’s normal to be turned on by the perfect tight spiral or the smack of leather against your skin. He’s not sure if it’s the game, the thrill of it, or if it’s Josh, all that power right up close, all of it focused on Daniel.

He turns and jogs back over to the far side of the pool, getting as close to the edge of the deck as he dares. Sweat is dripping into his eyes, and swiping a forearm across his head doesn’t help much. After this, a cold shower. He fucking needs it.

“Alright,” Josh calls to him, “you ready?”

Daniel puts his hands in position and looks to Josh for approval. “Like this?”

“That’s fine,” Josh says. “A little higher, maybe.” Daniel brings his hands up another inch, and Josh nods at him. “That’s good. Now…don’t move.”

The windup feels like it takes forever. Daniel watches Josh’s arm, the bulge of his bicep, the way the muscles of his forearm shift as he brings the football up past his ear. His feet jig a little, his body arcs back. The expression on his face—it’s like he’s already so fucking pleased with himself, and he ball hasn’t even left his hand yet. Daniel wants to reach down and adjust himself, but he can’t move. He isn’t allowed to move. Josh told him not to.

Then, suddenly, the ball is shooting through the air, so fast Daniel can’t even track it like he should. Good thing Josh is a pro and didn’t need Daniel to track it. It hits his chest right where it was supposed to, so hard it nearly knocks the wind out of him, and his fingers curl around it instinctively, hugging it into his body.

“Holy fuck, mate,” Daniel says in disbelief. His palms are still stinging from the last throw, and now his chest aches, and—he feels like he’s losing his mind, but he wants more. It’s still not enough. He wants to catch ten more passes like this. Twenty. He wants his whole chest to hurt, his whole body to be one big bruise.

“You okay?” Josh says, and suddenly he’s right there in front of Daniel again, prying the football out of his hands. “All good?”

“Yeah, I—” Unthinkingly, Daniel reaches down and lifts up the hem of his shirt, looks down at his chest. He expected—maybe was hoping—to see a mark there already, but the skin is just a little red, a faint starburst in the center of his breastbone.

“You’ll have a hell of a bruise there tomorrow,” Josh says. He pokes the spot with two fingers, and the throb of pain makes Daniel’s dick throb in sympathy. If Josh looks down, Daniel’s fucked.

Of course, Josh does look down.

“Hmm.” The sound comes from somewhere deep in Josh’s chest, and this time Daniel’s whole body throbs. “Is that for me? Or the ball?”

That nervous laugh bubbles out of Daniel’s mouth again. He feels so fucking unsexy right now, like he’s in one of those nightmares where’s he’s shown up to school in his underwear. “I dunno, dude,” he says. “You get a personal demonstration of the talent of someone you admire and see how you react.”

“Mhm,” Josh hums again, thoughtfully this time. “No, I know.”

He touches Daniel again, pressing his thumb against the spot on Daniel’s chest and rubbing gently. Anymore of this, and Daniel’s going to have to climb out of his own skin. He takes a deep, shaky breath and pastes on a smile, then steps backward so Josh’s hand is hovering in midair, nothing left to touch.

“Anyway.” Daniel steps out of his shoes. He tugs his shirt off the rest of the way, refusing to notice whether Josh is still looking or not. “I gotta get out of this heat. You coming?”

He’s a coward, but he doesn’t wait for Josh’s answer, only steps around him and takes a flying leap into the pool. The cool water closes over his head like relief. He floats there, weightless, until his lungs burn.

#daniel/josh #dosh #my writing #f1 #sorta #sorry but i had to post this right away #because i'm self-conscious and i'll never post it if i don't post it right now ahaha

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l1tw1ck · 1 year

Text

Flu Shot

bottom!ftm!yandere Harvey x top!masc Reader

☆ Word Count: 915 ☆

☆ Fandom: Stardew Valley

↳ [EVENT REQUEST] | [No AFAB Language Ver]

CW: Non-Con, Drugging, Oral Sex, Riding, Creampie, Nipple Licking, Mentioned Pregnancy

You're Harvey's last client of the day. He already set Marnie home so it's just you and him in the building. You’re sitting on a patient bed with your doctor grabbing the necessary supplies to give you your flu shot.

"Are you scared of shots, [Name]?" Harvey asks.

You shake your head. "I trust you Harvey." You smile. "I feel safe around you, so what's to be scared of?"

Harvey blushes. "Nothing." He grins bashfully. He walks over to your exposed arm and wipes it to disinfect the area before injecting the "flu shot" inside you.

The effects hit you instantly. Do flu shots normally make you feel dizzy, weak, and unable to move? You can only blink and slightly move your mouth, it's too hard to say anything though.

"Finally.." He gets down on his knees and pulls your pants down. He kisses your bulge. "You're finally mine." He sighs lovingly, tugging your underwear down.

Harvey kisses the tip of your cock, a soft blush on his cheeks as he drags his tongue up and down your soft shaft and gets you hard.

Harvey wraps his lips around it and moves down your length, enveloping it almost in its entirety. You can only watch, unable to move thanks to the shot. Conveniently, your entire body is numb except for your cock. You actually feel more sensitive, a lot more sensitive. He probably mixed an aphrodisiac in with the drug.

Harvey bobs his head up and down, using his hand to jerk off what he can't handle while his other hand sneaks down to his underwear. He fingers his cunt while he sucks your cock.

Low, soft sounds leave your lips as he brings you closer and closer to your orgasm. His mouth feels good and you hate that. You hate that you're so close to coming in his mouth, that you're feeling pleasure from this.

You can't do anything but let yourself come. Harvey eagerly swallows your seed before pulling away, a red blush on his cheeks. He stands up and strips down to nothing before climbing on top of you and sinking down on your cock, moaning in pleasure as you fill him up. Just feeling you inside him makes him feel so good.

"I love you, [Name]~" Harvey smiles sweetly before going in for a kiss. Your mouth doesn't move at all, you remain unresponsive as he explores your mouth with his tongue.

Harvey takes your hands and places them on his ass. He holds onto them and makes short movements, gently lifting his hips before moving down, pretending that you're "making love" to him and that he didn't have to drug you to get to this point.

“Ah~” Harvey moans, his current expression something you never imagined you’d see on your doctor’s face. He looks crazy, crazy and in ‘love’.

You start to regain more movement in your face, finally able to move your head around and speak. “Ha- Harvey-” You breathe out.

“Yes~?” He grins.

“Sto- stop.” You plead. “I don't- I don't love you.”

Harvey pauses. “I love you too!” He responds minutes later, cheeks a dark red. “I’m so happy..” He deludes himself.

“I di-” You try to deny it but he brings you into another kiss, leaving you unable to speak. He continues his bounces, moving faster this time. You hate how good his pussy feels around your length. It feels too amazing to be inside his wet warmth, so amazing that you're not sure how long you’ll last. Every bounce just brings you closer and closer to an orgasm, every movement of his is too stimulating for you to handle. You're ashamed of yourself but you find yourself giving in to the pleasure.

Harvey’s bounces become sloppy as he reaches his peak, movements coming to a stop as his pussy successfully milks your cock. Feeling him have an orgasm has you dumping your load inside him.

His lips curve into a smile, planning to baby trap you. He needs to be sure though, one more round to be safe. He gives you a peck on the lips before resuming his previous bounces. “You’re mine, [Name]~” He says. “Only mine.”

You know how this’ll turn out for you but right now? And it's likely the aphrodisiac talking, but all you want is to feel more of his pussy sliding up and down on your cock. “Fuck–” You groan.

Harvey's smile turns into a grin, he loves the sound of you feeling good because of him. “Do I fe- feel good~?”

“Yeah–” You reply only to make him happy, even though it's not a lie. He giggles, riding you faster and moaning without an ounce of shame. He pulls on his hard nipples, showing off to make you hornier. And you hate to admit that it's working. He moves his hands away and leans close to you, giving you a face full of his chest. You take the hint and lick the perky buds in front of you, experimental licks turning more vigorous. Licking occasionally turns into sucking. Despite how sensitive his nipples are, Harvey manages to stay at a steady pace, helping you reach your second orgasm.

You soon fill him with your seed again, the harsh reality of the consequences finally hits you as the effects of the aphrodisiac leave your body.

Harvey stops and rubs himself to his completion, the feeling of him orgasming overstimulating you.

“‘M gonna have your baby.” He smiles, speaking softly.

#wicks🕯works #wicks🕯requests #wicks🕯️events #top male reader #male reader #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x male reader #sdv harvey #sdv harvey smut #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #stardew valley x male reader #tw noncon #🕯️SDV #🕯️Harvey

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bangtaninborderland · 7 months

Text

RISK IT ALL (25) - (un)mended.

Genre: Chishiya X fem reader | violence| angst

Warning: this chapter contains mentions of blood.

A/N: sorry this took so long :(((, I decide to change the chapters around so the story lasts a little longer, next chapter someone old returns and drama follows their arrival. Who do you want to see return?

Ch.24| Masterlist | ch.26

You managed to drag him into the house enough to lay him flat on the floor and close the door behind you before starting on the stitches.

Chishiya hissed as the needle pierced his skin, you’d cleaned the wound as best as you could following his instructions word for word but honestly, this was the part you were dreading.

“I’m so sorry.” You babbled out as you threaded the needle through again.

The wound was deep but luckily it didn’t hit any organs, regardless of how many needles you had you were entirely sure you wouldn’t be able to fix that without at least basic medical knowledge.

It took a few more stitches before he deemed it enough, you tried to keep your hands as still as possible as you wrapped the dressing around the wound, his face pale and sweaty as he struggled to keep his eyes open. “T-Thankyou.”

“Don’t try to talk right now.” You shushed him. “Save your energy.”

“You wouldn’t -“ Chishiya coughs. “-know what to do if I didn’t talk you through it.”

“Is there anything else I need to do?” You asked as you secured the last strip of tape around the bandage.

He shook his head as best he could. “I need rest and fluids, I need to get to the bed.”

“I think I can help, just tell me how.” You shove the spare tape and bandages aside as he tries to sit up.

“I’ll need you to support my wounded side, I can’t put pressure on it.” He explains.

You quickly jump into action, wrapping his arm around your neck and helping him stand. Despite his wound, he doesn’t put his entire weight on you. “Relax against me.” You mumble, as you take small shuffled steps towards the bedroom.

Chishiya snorts. “Yeah and then when you fall to the floor who will help me?”

“Shut up.” You huff, turning your body around to sit him on the bed. “Can you lay down okay?”

“Yeah, I just need to sleep.” He gives a weak smile but you tap his arm.

“You can’t sleep until you eat. It may be cold but I can reheat it. I made dinner before all…” you wave your hands around his wound. “This.”

He rolls his eyes, turning to face the wall, you almost thought he had dismissed you before he looked at you again. “Okay, I’ll stay away. Don’t take too long.”

You didn’t respond, instead, you made your way to the kitchen, flicking on the small portable stove and reheating the earlier prepared food, it wouldn’t taste as good, not that it would have tasted great anyway considering what kind of food it was but it was at least something to keep you both full.

Something to keep you both alive.

You tried not to think about things like food, heat, electricity and water because then you would have to consider the possibility that one day, if you didn’t make it out of these games, and you didn’t die, you’d run out of the necessities. Not run out in a way where you had to do another short, albeit dangerous, stock up but run out in a way where there was no more to be found.

You sighed, brushing away the heavy thoughts as you placed the food back on the plates. You juggled both plates back to the bedroom and sure enough, Chishiya was asleep.

You nudged him a little, slowly and gently, of course, to rouse him. Though you didn’t have to try too hard as once he smelt the food he was instantly twisting his body around to take the bowl from you. “Thanks.”

“How do you feel?” You asked, taking a mouthful of your food.

He finished chewing before speaking. “In pain.”

“What happened?” You asked around your spoon.

He watched you for a moment before taking another bite, the question hanging in the air.

“This guy wanted my bag, he seemed crazy, probably from extreme isolation.” He summarised. “Anyway, we fought and he had a knife. I fought him off and luckily found a hammer, I hit his knee, grabbed my bag and ran.” He shrugged, scooping up another heat of food on his fork.

You took a moment to process what he had said, some part of your brain imagining the scene unfolding in front of you. The mere thought made shivers run down your spine and not in a pleasant way. “How long do you think it will take you to heal?”

“I don’t know. There’s no actual medicine here, hatter had the nearest hospitals raided and whatever they found and hoarded burned down along with the rest of the beach. Usually, it’s three to six weeks but that’s with proper medical care. I’ll be okay to enter the game as long as it’s not strenuous but diamonds rarely ar-“ Chishiya stops mid-sentence causing you to look up at him. “Why are you crying?”

You shook your head, wiping away the damp tears you were unaware had been falling in the first place. “Sorry, I-“ you paused, not sure what to say. “Sorry.”

“You’re scared.” He states.

You shrug at first until he raises an eyebrow and you nod. “I guess, not of something happening to me, but something happening to you.”

“Something did happen to me and I’m still alive.” He pointed out, his voice the tiniest bit softer. “If you keep fearing death whether it be for yourself or for me it will only put you in further danger. I meant what I said when we met, caring here is dangerous.”

“Yeah, but you care about me and nothing bad happened.” You place your bowl to the side, no longer hungry.

Chishiya still plays with his food, using the spoon to pick it apart. He looks up to you for a second, a hint of something in his eyes, as if he knew something you didn’t. “That’s not to say it won’t come back to bite me in the ass and anyway who said I care about you?”

You roll your eyes groaning, after all this time you were able to tell when he was and wasn’t being serious, now was one of those times when he attempted to make jokes to cheer you up. At least that’s what you’ve begun telling yourself. “Shut up. Don’t you have to sleep or something?”

“I do.” He chuckles, handing the bowl out to you before pulling the covers over himself. “The bag, you have to put the food away.”

“Okay.” You smile, watching as his eyes fight to stay open. “Just sleep don’t worry about anything else.”

“Oh, the door, the front door, push the table in front. It will keep it secure.” He mumbles, head lulling to the side.

You watch him again for a few minutes before realising how creepy it seemed, you leave the room quietly, pulling the door closed behind you.

You made a mental list of things you could do whilst he slept, already prepared for the next few days being filled with naps. The dishes are your first to do, Chishiya hated the mess and quite frankly you did too. You’d always have fights with your sister because she had forgotten to put something where it was SUPPOSED to be. Her favourite excuse had been “I’m blind.”

Which you would argue, that she was blind, not stupid.

The arguments you two shared were often futile, in the end, you’d end up doing whatever she needed and she would thank you endlessly in her own, special, way of course.

Thankfully you hadn’t created much mess over your short dinner so it didn’t take you too long, what seemed like thirty minutes had passed. You never really got used to the way time here passed.

You remembered Chishiya's instructions to push the table against the door, if someone had followed him to the house surely they would have already broken In but even so you would rather be safe than sorry so after some struggle you pulled the small brown table through from the tiny, makeshift living room and pushing it firm against the door as quietly as possible.

You managed to find the bag thrown lazily in the hall, the item being the last thing in either of your minds when he stumbled in the doorway hours earlier with a bloody wound. You weren’t expecting it to be as heavy as it was, especially considering he managed to get into the house before dropping it.

You definitely weren’t as strong as him.

Sighing you opened the bag, slumping a little as you eyed the contents. The look in his eyes earlier suddenly made sense, if he hadn’t been in the store looking for this he probably wouldn’t have been hurt.

Resting atop everything was a book you had mentioned wanting to read when you first came to the house. You took it out carefully, as though it were to break if you put too much force into your grip. You turned it over, reading the blurb on the back before setting it down.

You’d ask Chishiya about it later.

Though right now you try to pay it no mind, not wanting to cry and cause yourself a headache. You focused on unpacking the rest of the bag, he had managed to grab quite a good selection of canned foods, some pasta still in date, a few packs of crackers, some medicine, another sewing kit, a smaller first aid kit, socks, underwear and hidden beneath everything a packet of condoms.

You blushed at the item, shoving it back deep inside the backpack. Your face was a light shade of pink as you zipped it back up, carrying the cans over to their respective places.

It would all come in handy, the medicine especially, even though it was only over-the-counter pills they went a long way in a world like this. You’d have enough food to last 5 days if you didn’t have a feast. You laughed at the thought, the idea of having a feast on stale crackers and canned vegetables was ridiculous but for now, you’d take the small pleasures whenever you could have them.

You finished restocking the cupboards after a few minutes, it wasn’t exactly a huge task, there wasn’t a mass of food but still, you took your time.

“Hello?” You heard Chishiya calling out. You left the last cupboard open, completely ignoring the previous task when you heard his voice.

“Coming.” You respond, despite already being within arms reach of the door.

He’s lying on his back, looking rather uncomfortable. “Sorry, it’s just I can’t move this and my neck hurts.” He gestures to a pillow that’s lodged itself weirdly both behind and underneath him.

“No it’s okay, here let me help.” You step forward, helping him sit up before fixing the pillow. “How do you feel?”

“I imagine being hit by a car would hurt less.” He huffs, maybe that was a stupid question. “How long did I sleep?”

“I’d say around an hour?” You guessed. “You should rest more.”

“I need medicine.” He responds, his face still too pale for your liking. “Did you unpack the bag?”

“Oh.” Images of the book came back to your mind. “Yeah, let me just grab you some medicine.”

You quickly excuse yourself, pulling out the packet of painkillers and a bottle of water. “Here.” You mumble handing the water to him as you pop out the correct dosage.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, still somewhat half asleep. “What’s wrong?”

He slips the pills in his mouth, swallowing around his water bottle. “Nothing.”

“You’re a horrible liar. Was it the book or the condoms?” He raises an eyebrow, the smirk on his face annoyed you.

“Shut up, you’re so annoying. It was the book, I can’t believe you actually brought those.” You took the bottle back, securing the lid on it before placing it on the small table. “Why did you get the book? It wasn’t worth you being like this.”

“It was for me, your reading would make you less annoying. I chose to get it therefore it is my decision. Don’t be stupid and blame yourself for that.” He shakes his head, readjusting himself to take the pressure off his side.

“You’re a horrible liar too.” You retort, he could say all he wanted but he took it for you and it’s because of that a small pool of guilt bubbled in your stomach as you looked at his side. “You got hurt because you wanted to get me a book.”

“The guy wasn’t going for the book he was going to the mediation. If the bag wasn’t so heavy because of the book I probably wouldn’t have got away.” You were grateful for him truly, but it was a stupid way of cheering you up.

“You used a hammer, not the bag.” You huffed, his explanation useless.

“I only got to the hammer because that heavy book hit him straight in the face when I threw the bag at him.” He hummus. “Well the book and the cans but still.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Are you in pain?”

“As much as can be expected.” He brushes his hair out of his face.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” You asked, wanting to make the situation as easy for him as possible.

“Have you checked and cleaned your arm?” He asks.

You think back to the past 24 hours, the only time it had been cleaned was when Chishiya had done it himself. “No.”

“Clean your arm, do you need my help?” He asks and you shake your head. “Okay but do it here so I can look at the stitches.”

You agree, slipping out of the room to grab the first aid kit and a packet of crackers before returning to the room and carefully dropping the items on the bed. “I hate this.”

“Cleaning wounds used to be my least favourite thing to do too.” You didn’t question it, it was rare he shared personal things about himself, instead, you just filed it in the small folder in your head labelled ‘random Chishiya facts.’

You pulled the bandage off, discarding it in the trash can before leaning over to show him. “What do you think?”

He looks it over, gently raising a finger to touch at the area before looking up at you, your faces close. “I think a day or two more and I can take them out.”

“Oh.” You huffed, a little ignorant of his words being this close to him, to his lips. “Okay.”

“Clean it. Carefully.” He reminds you.

You blush a little in embarrassment. “Okay.”

It doesn’t take long to clean the wound, it was never big to begin with but it was a bullet wound so you let yourself feel sorry for yourself over it as you dabbed it clean with alcohol. “You can apply a little more pressure.”

“It hurts.” You wince as you wipe away the dried blood.

“It stings, you mean. It shouldn’t hurt too bad. Put some numbing cream over it but don’t take any more painkillers. You don’t want your body to become dependent on them for pain in case we run out.” He explains, nudging the cream towards you from where he lays.

“You think that’s a possibility?” You ask without looking up.

He’s quiet for a second. “Yeah, I think we are very close to the point we will no longer be able to actually survive here. Time passes weirdly, buildings that should have stood for years, even abandoned, are beginning to crumble after a few weeks.”

“So how long do you think we have been here for?” You finish cleaning your wound, covering it with gauze.

“I think in our time either years or days. It seems as though time passes faster here simply because in our original world the buildings would take years to grow the level of decay some others already have.”

You pack away the cleaning supplies in the small box. “It doesn’t make sense though, if everything around us is ageing faster than back in the original world, if that’s even what it is, then shouldn’t we be ageing too?”

“Not necessarily, I don’t think we are actually part of this world. I believe we are here to play the games and if we win we get to stay.”

You held your breath. “And if we don’t?”

“I think we will die.” He mumbled nonchalantly.

“Don’t say that.” You shook your head, laying down beside him. “I don’t want to hear that.”

“It’s the truth.” He shrugs, pulling the blanket closer to you.

“I’m going to sleep.” You huffed.

“You know there’s something you could do for me.” You could hear the smile in his voice despite facing away from him.

“What’s that?” You groan.

“Read to me. The new book I got you.” He asked, you didn’t miss the way he said the book was yours despite claiming it wasn’t for you.

You considered it, seeing the book made you feel bad but if it helped him relax then you couldn’t deny him. “Okay, let me get the book.”

You slid out of bed, quickly retrieving the book and returning to your previous position, handing him the crackers you’d taken from the kitchen earlier.

“Get in the blanket you’ll get cold.” He holds it up for you and you take the chance to push yourself closer as you open the book and begin to read.

You don’t know who ends up falling asleep first but you dreamt of a better world, one where Chishiya took you on dates, read to you under large trees in the summer sun, and cooked your meals whilst you wrote.

A world where you were happy and safe, together.

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

Text

I Can Feel Your Heart Beatin’ With Mine

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses blurb

warnings: pregnancy and i think that’s all

When you got to Mat’s apartment from an early morning photo shoot, you were quick to strip out of your clothes. You’d been feeling a little more warm than usual, so if you could wear less clothing, you would definitely indulge in that option. Mat loved it, too, seeing you walk around in panties and an islanders shirt of his that you had cropped.

“Come here and cuddle me,” you whined from your spot on the couch when he came out of his bedroom.

Mat chuckled and slowly lowered himself so that he was tucked into your side. He has his head resting on your chest and a hand resting on your growing baby bump.

“You’re home late,” he says, knowing that you were supposed to be home 2 hours ago.

“I know. I went to eat lunch because I was starving, and then I might’ve stopped by a little boutique that had a bunch of cute baby things,” you sigh, finally feeling relaxed with your man pressed to you, letting his warmth radiate through your body and even though you were feeling hot earlier, you didn’t mind the heat from your guy.

He looks up at you and frowns; it’s quick but you didn’t miss it.

“You went without me?”

He seems genuinely sad and you try not to let your emotions get the best of you. You didn’t think he’d care to go baby shopping. You were obviously wrong.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d want to go with me,” you apologize, your palm resting on his cheek, so that you make sure his eyes stay locked with yours.

“Did you buy anything?” He asks through a murmur, seemingly downtrodden at the thought of you shopping for your baby without him.

“No. I didn’t stay there long. Barzy, I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to go with me,” you apologize again.

He just shrugs with a forced smile.

“Ask me next time, please. I would like to pick our baby’s first outfit together,” he whispers into the skin of your collarbone.

Your body warmth is no match for his words, you melt instantly. Most people didn’t see his vulnerable side, but he never had any problems with letting you see it. He was upset that he wasn’t there with you and he wasn’t afraid to let you know.

“Of course. I was actually wanting to go back soon, so maybe we can go tomorrow after your morning skate. If that’s okay with you?”

“I’m down,” he agrees.

You both lay in a comfortable silence for a while. You twist some of his long hair around your finger, and your free hand softly massages wherever you can reach on his back. You’re not completely sure if he’s asleep, his breathing is even, but the subtle movements of his hand on your stomach let you know he’s still awake.

“Next week we get to find out what we’re having,” you break the silence.

“I know. I’m excited. We need to start narrowing down the name list,” Mat replies.

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby. A human that we get to name and raise,” you speak your thoughts.

“It’s crazy, but if anyone can do it, it’s us,” he reassures you.

“True. We need to start setting up the nursery. We also need to do a lot of shopping,” you remind him of the list of things that need to be done.

“I will work it into my schedule, promise.”

“I love you. Thank you for actually wanting to be present,” you whisper, signaling him to come closer so that you can kiss him.

Your lips slot together in a soft, loving kiss. His hand comes up to hold onto the back of your neck, and you turn just a little so that you can attempt to bring your leg to rest on his waist. You fail, but Mat distracts you by deepening the kiss.

“You never have to thank me. I will always be here for the both of you, always willingly,” he speaks into the kiss, making you smile and rub your nose against his.

This man was going to be the best father.

a/n: I can’t wait to dive deeper into dad!mat. Enjoy!!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal angst #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

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slytherinshua · 1 year

Note

I'd like to request #27 and #22 from fluff, #6 from action for Vernon please <3

Jealousy, Jealousy

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre and tags: fluff. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: none. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: vernon x fem!reader. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wc: 760. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: ty for requesting hannah!! vernon is wrecking me again now 😭 and i'm having second thoughts abt having unbiased him after writing this sdkjsdd i mean just look at him he's so gorgeous 😭 so ty for that as well 🤩

It was so petty of you, honestly. You were supposed to be on set supporting your boyfriend, but after you had seen one of the makeup artists laughing so flirtatiously with him, you couldn’t stand it. So you removed yourself from the situation, and the set.

You knew there was no way Vernon would ever cheat on you, or even glance at another woman with anything other than a friendly gaze, but you still felt insecure, especially after seeing that. You weren’t mad at Vernon obviously— he had done absolutely nothing wrong. And maybe you had seen the makeup artist in the wrong light, but she did give you a bad vibe that you couldn’t shake off.

So now you were at home, seconds away from tears because you knew you were being so stupid and that Vernon had wanted you to be on set with him. He had even asked you to come this morning. You should’ve stuck it out and not gotten so overwhelmed with jealousy.

You remember his confused expression as he saw you leave the set, as if pleading for you to come back. You didn’t even tell him you were leaving. You just gave him a quick wave goodbye and left because the sight before you was suffocating. It was probably a lose-lose decision you made, because now you missed him like crazy.

You decided to take a nap to clear your head. That way when Vernon came back home you’d hopefully feel better. You stripped off your outfit for something comfier: sweat pants and Vernon’s hoodie. As you covered yourself with the blanket (on Vernon’s side of the bed cause it smelled like him) you were already feeling better.

You fell asleep, the thoughts already leaving your head. You only thought about happy moments in your dream. Your first date with Vernon, countless nights where you had stayed up way too late laughing with him, all the times you had cuddled together, or how just his presence put you at ease.

When you woke up, you barely remembered what had upset you so much. And your attention was drawn away from it almost immediately, as your boyfriend walked through the door just minutes later.

“Hey.” You greeted with a small smile. Vernon dropped his bag on the chair and joined you by sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hi,” He laughed softly, and you were glad he didn’t seem too upset at your sudden disappearance. He flopped down on the bed all the way, sighing and closing his eyes. He looked tired. You scooted closer to him and brushed some of his hair off his forehead.

“You tired?” You asked, and he nodded slightly, opening his eyes.

“You’re wearing my hoodie again.” He whispered fondly, not bothering to sit up just yet. He turned sideways so he faced you, head resting on the mattress comfortably.

You smiled and looked away, “I missed you, so I put it on. It’s comfy.”

“You wearing my clothes should be illegal. You look too cute in them.” He murmured. You laughed softly, continuing to run your hands through his hair soothingly, trying to relieve some of the stress of the day.

“I’m glad you’re back,” You sighed, “I missed you as soon as I got back home.”

He scoffed slightly, “You left the set and then immediately missed me?”

You laughed, “It sounds a bit pathetic, doesn’t it?” He shrugged and sat up. “You would do the same thing, though.”

“I would.” He smiled, “Why did you leave, though?”

“Just got a bit annoyed, that’s all.” You muttered quietly.

“Over what? Did Jeonghan tease you again?”

You shook your head, “No, no. There was just this makeup artist… and I guess I didn’t like how she acted around you.” You sighed, your shoulders drooping down in defeat. It was a stupid reason, after all.

Vernon raised an eyebrow, “Are you jealous over me?”

You could only nod slightly, blush spread on your cheeks shyly, “Maybe…?��

“Come on- you totally were!” His smile was wide as he watched you grow more and more embarrassed.

“Shut up.” You whispered.

“Admit you got jealous first.”

You groaned, “Fine. I admit that I got jealous over you.” You scowled at him, but that soon turned into a smile. He wrapped his arms around you for a hug.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous.” He murmured, pressing soft kisses to your temple and the side of your face. You stayed like that for a while, in the comfort of your boyfriends arms.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-bluehair,, @syrxiee2,, @ddenoudepression,, @hannahsophie0103

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redfoxwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 3

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: drinking AN: Can you believe it? We're at chapter three! Three consistent weeks of Sunflower! That's like a posting record for the last three years! Look friends, I know a lot of us, me included, are in some pretty crazy weather right now. It's either super cold or super snowy or if you're really unlucky- both. Stay safe, stay warm

Masterlist Chapter 2 Chapter 4 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 3

They sat in a corner booth of a small private restaurant. It was peaceful and empty. Places like this were frequented by locals primarily while the visitors would sleep in and wait for the brunch buffets, fast food joints and reservations for celebrity chiefs. Even on The Strip, locals had their places.

They were in the weird in between time where Las Vegas was either still sleeping off the night before or had already gone to work, contributing even more to the isolated feeling that hung in the air.

It was places like this that the resident celebrities could slip in and get some eggs and toast without any fuss. Places like this, Elton John or Celine Dion were just another local hiding from the flashing lights. Places like this embodied the vibe of the locals. The walls screamed, ‘Look, we all just live here’.

“Thank you again,” she picked at the airy sleeve around her wrist, “for the clothes.”

“It’s the least I can do for asking you to hear me out.”

“I- I know who you are.” She blurted out and his whole body stiffened. “I called Ashley- My sister- to cancel breakfast and she looked you up.”

“And?” He was cautious now, so different than the carefree charm that seemed to drip from his pores and that worried her. It was like the warmth had been sucked from the air around him in a instant.

“You’re an actor. I- I’ve not seen anything you’ve done. I don’t really see much movies. Why me? Why just a normal girl? Don’t you have an actress girlfriend or something. Won’t insisting on trying to be married ruin your career or life or something?” Her insecurities were all the more raw knowing that not only did she drunk marry a hot man but a famous one at that.

“Maybe that’s why.” The waiter refilled their coffees, interrupting the conversation though Tom was quick to thank him for the refill. “Maybe I need something normal. I’ve done the actress partner thing and it just- it’s too much attention. My ex, my last serious relationship- she got married this weekend.”

“So you drown your loneliness and marry a stranger?” She scoffed at him. “That’s not how anyone should solve their problems.” It was the Vegas way though.

“Perhaps. But perhaps it’ll work out.”

“What about your career?”

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure.” She wasn’t as sure as he was but really, what did she know?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His phone rang though he was quick to dismiss the call. “You have every reason to be worried but I can promise you, I’m not going to force you to do anything. One year- give us one year to see if this was a mistake or not.”

“Tom,”

“I know it’s probably not going to work out, most marriages don’t and we don’t even know each other. Let’s take the time to get to know each other though. Let’s see what happens. Let’s take our time. If it doesn't work out and we still don’t want to be together in a year, we split no fault, no questions.”

“So we play pretend?”

“It won’t be pretend. We stay loyal to each other. We put in a honest effort. And if I ever make you feel unsafe or we fight too much, we pull the plug. I know I’m asking a lot-” The ringing of his phone interrupted him again.

“Do you need to take it?”

“No…” His answer was reluctant as the phone lit up once again with another call.

“You sure?”

He sighed. “I Should. Here,” He handed her a few twenties from his wallet. “That should be enough for the bill and tip. If you wouldn’t mind? I’ll try to be quick but…”

“It’s fine.” She wove him away. Was this her first act as his wife? It felt surreal. “Tom?”

He turned to her, phone halfway to his ear. “Yeah?”

“I think this is a dumb idea but, okay.”

His face lit up in a smile. “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is Tom.”

“Do not ‘This is Tom’ me.” Luke was angry.

“What’s got your feathers ruffled?” Playing dumb was always a good move with Luke. It’s far better to admit nothing until he knows exactly why Luke is mad at him this time. Tom had learned the hard way that if he started talking first, he was likely to admit to flirting with a interviewer when Luke was mad about a too high room service bill.

“Have you lost your bloody mind?” That wasn’t a good sign.

“Is the correct answer ‘Yes’?”

“Damn right it is. You have ten seconds to explain to me why there are pictures of you kissing a brunette in a bar the same night Sophia got married. Go.”

“I’m human and allowed to kiss women, Luke.” Tom leaned against the side of the building, standing in the shade.

It was quickly getting hot outside with the sun beating down. He wanted his sunglasses but they were back on the table.

“True. I’d rather you did it discreetly but that’s true. How about why there’s pictures of you with the same woman wearing a wedding gown. Tell me you crashed a wedding.”

“I crashed a wedding.”

“You didn’t get married?”

“I got married.”

“Oh thank god.” There were three heartbeats exactly, Tom had counted, between Luke’s reflexive answer and the realization hitting. “The fuck you did! You’re going to get it annulled, right?”

“No, we’re not.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

“That seems to be the question of the day.”

“Do you have any idea what this will do to your career? Your reputation?” Luke sighed. “I feel sick.”

“It’ll be fine, I have faith in you. You can clean nearly anything up.” The door opened and Tom glanced over. She was beautiful even the morning after, with her hair in a lightly contained mess.

“This is a mistake.” Luke said as Tom watched her look around before catching sight of him.

“Hopefully it’s the best mistake I’ve ever made,” Tom smiled as he disconnected Luke’s squawking as he pushed himself up off the wall.

“Here,” She held out the excess cash. He’d given her too much for the bill, even factoring a generous tip. Though he took it from her, he didn’t stop to count it before putting it in his pocket. “What now?”

“Well, if we’re going to give this a chance we should get to know each other. We can walk around, get to know each other? Do you want to stop by your room to get a change of shoes?” The started walking together back toward the hotel. It wasn’t far but her feet would quickly start hurting.

“I don’t have a room. I’m a local.”

“Oh,” the silence was awkward.

Two strangers stood in the bright sun of a waking city. They hardly knew anything about each other and yet they were husband and wife. The biggest adventure -or mistake- of their lives stretched out in the twelve months before them.

For better or worse, they had taken their first steps down this path together, as partners. Their lives would forever be changed and shaped by the decision made this morning. With the path that took them to this point as unknown as the future, let us walk along side them as the Las Vegas sun beats down around us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, why were you drinking by yourself?” Tom stood close to her. It was dark yet the Vegas heat radiated up off at the pavement. The shared a smoothie in a large cup. The alcohol was strong but she was having the time of her life.

“I work here. Why are you drinking alone in Las Vegas?” She danced in place to the music playing from the speakers as water spouts shot in the air, lit up in a rainbow of colors to the tune of the music.

“I’m not drinking alone, I’m drinking with a beautiful brunette.” It took two tries to catch her hand, but when he did, he spun her around just to see the smile that lit up her face.

~~~~~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakillerr, @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom, @buttercupcookies-blog, @violethaze, @kats72

#tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom hiddleston x oc #Tom hiddleston x original character #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Tom hiddleston rpf

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shieldofiron · 1 year

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Billy Hargrove’s Haunted Bong

For Harringrove Week March 29, Happy Billyday! Also on AO3 Here.

Specific Dialogue: “You don’t know what you put me through.”

NSFT-ish, just at the end.

Steve feels a little awkward picking through Billy Hargrove’s stuff. His dad’s gone, and now Max and her Mom are moving, they need to get rid of the excess, he knows that. There’s some of Billy’s dad’s stuff here, too, though a lot of it has been picked over by the neighborhood moms, trying to get shoes for their husbands and stuff.

There’s less of a market for teenage boy stuff, though Tommy has a few button downs slung over his arm, and apparently Max unloaded a bunch of Billy’s tapes on ‘The Freak’ Eddie Munson.

Steve is really here more as a favor to Max. He doesn’t know what he would do with a Scorpions t-shirt, or a stack of books. Who knew that Billy read so much, anyway?

Max walks over and crosses her arms, “Hey. Want you to see something.”

He shrugs, tossing the paperback he was never going to buy back in a pile, “Ok.”

Max leads him up the stairs and into the half packed house and into a mostly empty room. There’s a bed that’s been stripped, and a small cardboard box, open and half full on it. Steve catches a glimpse of a few tapes inside, and a handful of clothes. Maybe it’s stuff they’re saving.

Max holds up two cans of Aquanet, “Do you want these? I’ll give them to you for a dime.”

Steve fights to keep his face neutral, “Uh, not my brand. But thanks.”

“How about this?” She holds up a bottle of cologne, Paco Rabanne.

He shrugs, “Sure. How much?” This is probably fine, a non-weird thing to get, anyway.

“Uh... a quarter?” She says distractedly while he glances down to dig in his pocket for change. “And what about this?”

He looks up and almost chokes on his spit. It is without a doubt the biggest bong he’s seen in person.

“Put that down!” He says.

She scowls, “What’s your problem?”

“N-nothing. Didn’t Eddie want that?” Steve really would feel better if she put it down. Maybe stepped away from it too.

“He took the other one,” She shrugs, “Why? What’s wrong with it? It’s just a vase.”

Right. Just a vase.

He snatches it from her hands, just wanting to get it out of the house, “How much?”

“Uh... a dollar. No! Two dollars!” She cries.

He rolls his eyes, because this thing is probably expensive as shit, but he just wants it out of her house.

“Sure,” He pulls a couple of bucks out of his wallet, “I’ll see you, okay?”

She nods, counting the money, “You want your change?”

“No, nope, just gonna head right home,” And smash this thing to pieces, he thinks.

He hops in the beemer, throwing his vase across the passenger’s seat along with the cologne. It really is enormous, blue swirling glass that would be kind of pretty if it wasn’t dirty with old bong water and stuff.

“Never let it be said I never did anything for you, Hargrove,” He grumbles, eyes searching the road wildly.

He turns the corner off Cherry Lane, shaking his head.

“I mean, whatever. I didn’t like... jump in front of a monster. Though I did. For Max, I mean,” He tightens his hands on the wheel, “Whatever. You know what I mean.”

He glances down at the bong and the cologne.

He shakes his head, “You would think I was high already.”

The bong glints in the afternoon sunlight, reflecting the blue skies out the window and the slowly turning leaves.

“You know my birthday is tomorrow,” Steve says, to no one. “I guess I could have one smoke. Just to see what I’m missing.”

The sunlight glints, and it’s almost like a wink.

He’s going crazy, that’s the only explanation for why he heads home and takes the bong into his house instead of throwing it away. He dumps the old water in the sink, trying to take it apart so he can rinse it out. He might actually catch some kind of disease smoking out of this thing, considering Billy died in July and it’s halfway through January.

He shakes his head at himself, dunking the bong into the water and rubbing the side, trying to take off the film of hairspray and weed smoke that’s formed a crust along the sides. Probably he won’t smoke from it. It’s a lost cause.

The bong trembles in his hands and he rears back into the kitchen island, soapy water splashing everywhere. Blue smoke comes from the top, pale denim blue that swirls in the air and shifts and then...

Billy fucking Hargrove is sitting on the edge of his kitchen sink.

He looks much the same as he always did, shirtless, tanned and perfect with a necklace glinting from his chest. Winking in the sunlight.

“Harrington,” He says with a smile.

“H-holy shit.” Maybe Steve is high. How did he get this high and he doesn’t even remember smoking?

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Billy’s eyes sparkle, electric blue. Were they always that blue, glowingly blue? They look like Kyle McLaughlin’s eyes in that freaky movie Dustin dragged Steve to a few weeks ago.

“This is not happening,” Steve shakes his head, “This isn’t happening.”

Billy laughs, full and open, and then the blue smoke is back, smelling like Paco Rabanne and cigarettes and Aquanet, swirling through the air.

“What do you wish for, Pretty Boy?” Billy’s voice sounds like it’s coming from right in Steve’s ear, but when he looks, the Billy on his counter is just smiling mischievously.

“Uhhh...”

Billy disappears and the smoke surrounds Steve. He clings to the countertop, the only thing that feels solid. Smoke slides along his face and arms, like a caress.

“Make a wish,” Billy’s voice beacons, “Birthday Boy.”

“I-if I blow hard enough, will you disappear?” Steve mumbles, not sure what kind of weird dream this is.

“If you blow?” Billy whispers, his tongue sliding along his lower lip teasingly.

“What are you?”

“You’ve never heard of a genie? Djinn is more accurate,” Billy’s voice is behind him now, along the back of Steve’s neck, sending goosebumps down his spine. Billy hums and it takes Steve a few moments before he picks out the theme to I Dream of Jeannie. “Should I call you, Master?”

“It’s not real,” Steve half laughs, “You died. I saw you die.”

“Where did the body go, Harrington? Disappeared... like smoke...” Billy appears in front of him, sudden and solid, “Poof.”

“You’re not a genie, though,” Steve shakes his head, “They aren’t real.”

“Try me, Harrington,” Billy smiles, eyes blazing.

“Uh...” Steve blinks at Billy’s face, so very close. He’s had dreams like this. Billy Hargrove, close and within reach, kind and laughing and oh so kissable.

“Go on,” Billy’s chin juts forward, and its so much like Steve’s dreams, he gives in. Maybe it is a dream. A weird one, but one of his regular dreams.

“Is it a three wishes kind of deal?” He asks.

Billy shrugs, “Dunno. I came to in a van full of shouting Russians who shoved green liquid down my throat. And then smoke poured out of my mouth, my ears, my eyes, and I turned into... this. Tried to go home, get Max’s attention. But then I got sucked into that thing when I got too close.”

Steve stares at him, at his lips actually. Is it nighttime already, or is it just the smoke swirling around?

“S.S. Butterscotch,” He mumbles.

“What?”

“I want a scoop of Scoops Ahoy S. S. Butterscotch,” Steve chokes, “Haven’t had it since the mall... uh...”

Billy puts a hand behind his back and winks at Steve, sending an electric bolt of lust down his spine.

“Your wish is my command,” Billy pulls his hand out and there’s a waffle cone stacked with a single scoop of S. S. Butterscotch, as smooth and round as if Steve had done it himself.

Billy raises it up to Steve’s lips, his eyes going dark and cloudy blue when Steve licks along the top. A shiver runs down his spine from the top of his head, making his knees weak.

“Oh, Harrington. You don’t know what you put me through,” Billy smiles, “Never thought I’d see you again. Never.”

Steve blinks, his mouth swirling with the flavor he’s been craving since Starcourt.

Steve finally manages to dig his claws out of the counter and reaches out, knocking the cone to the side. Well, it’s his dream. He might as well get to do what he wants.

Billy Hargrove tastes like woodsmoke and butterscotch and he groans into Steve’s mouth like he’s real, like he’s oh so human again.

Blue smoke trails up Steve’s spine like a featherlight touch, and he trembles, falling forward, hands digging into Billy’s hair. He’s always dreamed about boys and girls, he’s always had a lot of sex dreams, but they never felt like this.

Billy’s chest is warm, though there’s no heartbeat. But his tongue is wet and wicked and alive, and tendrils of smoke are curling against Steve’s overheated skin while Billy’s fingers dig into his hips. Holy shit.

Steve groans when Billy begins to slowly drag his hands to the placket of Steve’s jeans, teasing along the buttons. His tongue is teasing the inside of Steve’s lips, turning all of his thoughts to liquid lust.

Then Billy disappears into smoke and laughter, and invisible hands trail along Steve’s cock, under his jeans... through his jeans...

“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, hips working. “Don’t stop.”

“Feel good?” Billy’s voice is somewhere on the ceiling.

“Fuck, yes, B-Billy... fuck...”

“Wanna make you feel so good,” Billy says softly, his voice crackling like a flame, “Wanna make you cream your jeans.”

Steve is embarrassingly close to that already, “R-Revenge?”

“For all the times you turned me on in class? No. But good guess,” Billy practically purrs when a smoky finger flicks the head of Steve’s cock and Steve cries out.

Steve gasps, “T-then...”

“Haven’t touched anyone in six months,” Billy laughs, and it echoes off all the polished surfaces of the Harrington’s pristine kitchen. “And you’re so touchable.”

Steve closes his eyes before they roll back in his head and makes an inarticulate noise, “Fuck, Billy... I’m... I’m... g-gonna...”

Billy’s corporeal in a moment, hand pressed over the invisible fingers, pressing Steve’s cock hard into his stomach, a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Come on, Pretty Boy. Get there.”

Steve’s orgasm bursts through him like a wildfire, and he screams into Billy’s shoulder, pressing his mouth against flexing muscle in a vain attempt to silence himself. Blood roars in his ears and he passes out into Billy’s waiting arms. He half expects to go right through them, but they catch him, sure and steady.

When he wakes up, his eyes are blurry and his body is blissed out, floating like it hasn’t since Starcourt. He sits up in his bed and looks around the room but there’s no one there.

Oh shit. It really was a dream. He bites down the bitterness and looks down at the bed beside him.

It’s the bong, gleaming and blue, glass colors swirled together like smoke. The morning light glints off the edge. Like a wink.

“Good morning, pretty boy,” The voice rumbles through the room and Steve closes his eyes. Wishes he was dreaming.

#harringrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #Djinn! Billy Hargrove #Supernatural Au #Harringroveweek #billysbirthdaybonanza #harringrove fic #harringrove fanfic #lemon

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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Wrote this based on this post and heavily encouraged by @zerokrox-blog, so in celebration of finishing my paper, here is a 30 minute attempt at expanding on this particular brain rot

It’s like his brain can’t associate water with anything but death.

He knew Steve had trouble with water after everything, still does. He knew sometimes Nancy wouldn’t come to the pool parties at Steve’s house because she still saw Barb drowning in the deep end if she stared too long. He knew they all avoided the lake for obvious reasons.

His thing started with a sudden downpour. He thought it had to be just rain, right? He could just stay home if it looked like a storm was coming. Easy enough.

Until he had almost the same reaction in the shower the day after. Wayne had to come in and shut the water off, throw a towel around him, and sit on the floor talking to him for almost 20 minutes before he was able to dry off and get into bed.

They did manage to find a system that worked for the shower eventually, though it was embarrassing for Eddie.

Wayne would get the shower started while Eddie stripped off his clothes. He’d turn away while Eddie got in the shower, then sit on the toilet lid and talk to Eddie as he slowly wet each individual limb and scrubbed his skin with soap. He’d rinse the same way, flinching at the way the water felt hitting his skin.

Wayne’s voice did help though. He’d tell him stories of his childhood, of the adventures he’d go on with Eddie’s mom, of crazy things that happened at the plant. It was enough to get the job done.

Then he’d get out, wrap a towel around his middle, and kneel down next to the tub so Wayne could wash his hair.

If Eddie closed his eyes and Wayne kept talking, he could almost ignore the way the water felt. They only washed his hair once a week because it was such a hassle for both of them.

He’d tried everything.

Steve made some suggestions that helped him, most of which revolves around stuff he was already doing.

Robin even tried to come help wash his hair in the sink instead like she did for Steve, but he ended up smacking her hands away the second the water touched his head.

The kids found out by accident; a storm was rolling in right when Eddie was leaving to meet up for movie night at Steve’s. He called Steve and apologized a million times, Steve brushing it off like it was fine and he understood. Deep down, Eddie knew he did, but it still sucked.

Dustin called him 30 minutes later and talked to him about anything and everything for the next hour, saying he didn’t really want to watch the movie they picked that night anyways.

It was kind, but Eddie felt terrible taking him away from the group.

But the kids took turns any time they were all together and Eddie was stuck at home because of rain. They sometimes would pile into Steve’s car and come to the trailer, making sure they didn’t touch Eddie if they were wet. He wanted to cry at their kindness, but he held it in.

But eventually, he couldn’t take it. He felt like a burden. Everyone dropped everything to make him feel better or make it easier for him and it was too much.

He turned to the one person in the group who would look at this objectively: Nancy god damn Wheeler.

“There has to be a way.”

“Therapy might help.”

“I’m already in therapy. It doesn’t help with this. That’s more for like ‘kinda wish I died down there’ and not ‘it feels like water will kill me.’”

“Have you ever heard of exposure therapy?”

Since he was an uneducated idiot, no. He told Nancy he wasn’t sure that would work since he’d been forcing himself to take showers and wash his hair this whole time with no improvements.

“This is different. It’s more a controlled environment and doing small things to move back towards normal exposure to your fear. Like how right now you shower in a way that keeps your whole body out of the water. This would be like getting your whole body under the water for 30 seconds, then the next time a full minute, and keep going until you can do it for long enough to take a regular shower.”

“Okay but I have unmanageable panic attacks when I do that, Nance.”

He could hear her eye roll over the phone.

“When was the last time you tried? Who was there? What was your plan if things went bad?”

Eddie remained silent. She knew the answers to those questions.

“I thought so. I think I have a plan. Can I come over?”

“What, now?”

“Why not now?”

She really did not hesitate when she was set in her ways, did she?

“Okay, fine. Wayne’s not here though.”

“He doesn’t need to be.”

And that’s how Nancy god damn Wheeler first saw him completely, whole ass naked.

It was very clinical; She was basically a therapist doing her job for the entire thing. But it did leave him feeling quite awkward.

“I just don’t understand why I can’t still wear boxers or something.”

“Because you have to do the real thing from the start or it’ll take longer.” Nancy rolled her eyes. “I’m not attracted to you Eddie. You’re very handsome, but you’re not my type.”

“You’re not my type, either.”

Nancy smirked at him. “I know. Steve’s polos aren’t quite my style.”

Eddie looked away, face bright red. She clapped her hands after a moment to get him to focus.

“So for the first time, I’ll turn the water on and you’ll get in like you usually do. After a minute, you have to step backwards into the water so it hits your whole back. You have to stand like that for 30 seconds. Then you step back out. If you have to step all the way out you can. Okay?”

“No.”

“Eddie.”

“Okay! Fine!”

“I read a lot about this. I promise it’ll work if we keep trying.”

He stepped into the shower and let the water hit his toes. This part was normal. It wasn’t fine, but it was fine-adjacent. He was used to it.

“Ready?”

“No.”

“Eddie.”

Nancy’s sighing was slightly amused, so he knew he wasn’t in trouble, but he still felt the nerves eating away at his stomach.

“Okay. What’s the plan if I can’t do it?”

“Let me worry about it.”

Eddie took another breath, trying to work up the courage. He felt his heart racing and his breath coming in shorter pants the more he thought about the water hitting his whole body.

“Eddie. You can do it.”

“Okay.”

So he turned his back to the water, backed up one step, then two, then three. And water was hitting him.

It hit his shoulders, cascading down his arms and back, hitting his waist and rolling off his stomach down his legs. It was warm, but he felt his whole body shiver at the feeling.

He could hear Nancy counting distantly, feel her eyes on him through the crack of the shower curtain. He tried to focus on her voice, on the way she already had a towel in her hands for when this was over. How no bats were circling above ready to eat him from the inside out. How this water was nothing like the lake, it was clean and the light was on in the bathroom so he could see everything around him.

When she reached 30, he practically jumped out and landed in her arms, towel not quite covering her so she got soaked.

He didn’t have enough brain power to realize he was soaking wet, naked, and being held by Nancy god damn Wheeler.

He sobbed as she managed to wrap the towel around his back, shushing him and telling him to take a deep breath.

He did.

“Another one.”

Her voice was becoming less distorted. He could feel his chest heaving now instead of a dreadful numbness throughout his extremities.

“Good. You did it. You did great.”

He’d done it. He’d done the first step.

“Here, wrap this around you so you get warmer.”

She moved him back enough to wrap the towel all the way around his shoulders, like he was a child trying to cover his entire body in a towel after a bath.

“Thanks.”

His voice was broken and raspy, but she smiled at him all the same.

“Don’t thank me. I feel like I’m kind of torturing you.”

“I may be into that, Wheeler.”

She snorted. “Talk to Steve about that. Though I think he’s probably into the receiving end of that, not the giving part.”

Eddie choked on his next breath.

“You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“Never have, never will.” She started moving back to the sink to grab his fresh clothes, a cozy sweater he may have stolen from Steve and the sweatpants he wore the night before. “Are you okay if I step out while you get dressed?”

“What? Tired of seeing me naked?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

Nancy smirked. “Yeah. We all do. That’s why I’m willing to stare at your naked ass to help you with this.”

She was trying to make light of the situation, but he couldn’t help but let out a small sob at the fact that he had so many people who loved him enough to do this.

“I’m good. I’ll be done in a minute.”

Nancy waited for him to throw on his clothes, some residual moisture making his shirt stick to him. He hated it, but tried his best to ignore it. Another step towards facing his fears or whatever.

Nancy was waiting in the kitchen, a can of beer waiting on the counter for him.

“Is alcohol the answer?”

“No. But you deserve to celebrate a milestone. Just this one though or everyone will think I’m a pushover.”

“God forbid people know Nancy Wheeler has a heart.”

She nudged his arm with her elbow, smiling proudly at him.

“Proud of you for this. I know I kind of made you do it, but you could have backed out.”

“What was the backup plan? What if I completely freaked when the water touched me?”

“Try again tomorrow.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s always it. We all have to face shit every day. Some of us are scared of water, some of us are scared of clocks, some of us are scared of dogs. Some days are harder and we can’t face it. But we try again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. And eventually we don’t have to try as hard. And maybe eventually we won’t have to try at all.”

“Wise words.”

“I have those sometimes.”

They both laughed, but Eddie was drained. He felt the emotional exhaustion manifest in physical aches throughout his whole body.

He glanced at the clock and saw it was only eight.

“Wanna stay for a bit?”

“Oh yeah. No way I’m leaving you alone for at least another hour, Mr. Delayed Trauma Response.”

“Smart plan, Dr. Exposure Therapy.”

So they hung out, snacking on some chips he found in the cabinet that were borderline too stale to enjoy, talking about the next few days’ plan, and if he wanted anyone else to know about it.

“You plan on coming here every night for the next month or more?”

“I’m willing to. But I think it might help to rotate people. Robin would be more than willing. And…”

“Steve cannot see me like that. Not after the rain thing.”

“No offense, but if you ever plan to get anywhere with Steve, it’s gonna involve an emotional upheaval and nudity.”

“A panic attack in the shower? How sexy.”

“Steve will want to help.”

“He always wants to help.”

“And he’s been through this, too.”

“He could take showers, though.”

“But he isn’t gonna judge you. Neither will Robin. Or anyone else we involve.”

“No one but them.”

Nancy searched his face before nodding. “I’ll call them tomorrow. They have to understand the process. But I’m coming tomorrow again. You need a constant the first few times.”

“Was that in a book?”

“It was in all the books, actually.”

“How many books did you read?”

“Seven.”

“I just called you today!”

“Well I may have started a while ago. I knew you’d be ready eventually.”

Eddie shook his head in disbelief. “You’re something else.”

“So I’ve heard.”

When Nancy left, Eddie felt a little worried for a few minutes that he shouldn’t be alone. He thought about calling Steve, but decided he needed to try to face this part of the fear too.

He’d call Steve in the morning.

For now, he got in bed, pulled the covers over himself, and didn’t flinch when he heard rain drops hit the roof.

#eddie munson #nancy wheeler #stranger things #traumatized Eddie #Eddie is scared of water #Nancy helps him #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie feelings are implied and joked about #headcanon #tumblr drabbles

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what-gs-watching · 3 months

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"It's not my fault you're like, in love with me."

So while I was trapped in the house for days on end because of ridiculous weather, I kept whinging that I just wanted to get out and see the new Mean Girls. My sister was not surprised at all to hear it, assuming I would have gone the day it came out.

Because I’m old, old enough that the original movie came out when I was a teenager and it was a big fucking deal. I remember going to the theater with my bestie and being completely obsessed. We all wanted to be Lindsay Lohan at that point, 2004 was a crazy time, and we were incredibly impressionable. So, Mean Girls was everything.

To be fair, it definitely wormed its way into the culture. My sixty-something mother-in-law knows ‘fetch’ and my metal headbanger favorite dude friend appreciates that on Wednesdays, we wear pink. Millennials get it. I’m honestly not even sure how many times I’ve seen it. If my life depended on it, I could accurately quote most of it.

So, I was excited to see the new one, and a little weary.

But it was cuuuuuute, y’all. I purposely didn’t read anything about it, so I was slightly surprised that it was basically literally the same story, but I guess that makes sense. The whole schtick is that it’s a musical now, so I can roll with that.

One thing I will say though, it’s hard for musicals to make perfect sense. You lose some of the story by trying to flatten it into a catchy number. So it didn’t feel as comprehensive or fleshed out as the original (which sounds insane because Mean Girls is just a story about girls being bitches, but still).

I also really appreciated that they kept a good bit of the classic lines that everyone wants to hear. You have to have “stop trying to make fetch happen, it’s not going to happen” and “Yo go, Glen Coco!” it’s literally not Mean Girls without that. (LOL at the explanation though that 'fetch' is slang from an old movie.)

They did strip out some of the weirder aspects, leaving out the gym coach hooking up with one of the kids, which was sketch to begin with, even in 2004. And Karen trying to make out with her first cousin, which, yikes. So ya know, progress.

But it did feel like they took some of the bite out of Regina. Like, I got that she was supposed to be mean, but there weren’t a ton of actions to reinforce that. Or even a ton of interaction between her and Cady. The frenemy-ship wasn’t fleshed out as much as I wanted it to be.

On the bright side though, I didn’t expect the actress they chose for Regina. Body positivity, gang! And the cast was a lot more diverse.

But, no one is ever gonna best Lohan at the role of Cady. Sure, New Cady was cute, and she did her best but honestly, she did not have the same kind of presence or charisma. But I’m probably biased as hell. Like I’ve said before, I just want Lindsay Lohan to get her life back together.

ALSO, this is just me complaining, but I absolutely do not fucking understand fashion right now. Like, I just…I can’t. It’s weirdly 90’s, and it wasn’t cute in the 90’s originally and it’s not cute now. I was not in love with Cady’s “makeover” and that was one of the funner aspects of the original. Which could just be me projecting because I wanted to wear all of the shit that they did in 2004 but I was not that cool, gang. So now I’m the old guy who wants gen Z fashion to get off my lawn. It’s not their fault, but it’s still confusing.

The point is, it was a fun way to spend two hours, and I love that Tina Fey and Tim Meadows reprised their roles. I will love anything Tina Fey does, forever and always. And she loves Mean Girls so much. So I’m going to, too. And I might bump “Revenge Party” because who doesn’t love a party that ends with a head on a spike?

Did we really need this movie? Maybe not. But I suppose we can let the zoomers in on the fantasticness that is Mean Girls. Y’all can have a piece of the crown too, I guess - it’s just plastic, after all.

#mean girls 2024 #mean girls musical #what g's watching #revenge party #cady x regina #regina george #cady mean girls

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merakiui · 2 years

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[iii.] ᵃ ʷᵃʳᵐ, ˢᵗⁱᶠˡⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉᵃ

serial killer!jade leech x female!reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, r18 implications, violence, brief mention of blood, alcohol/intoxication chapter ii│chapter iii (you are here)│chapter iv

Today’s Thought - Merfolk are reminded of humans when they find artifacts and skeletal remains scattered in shipwrecks. I once happened upon a pair of shoes floating on rocky waters, and not too far below the surface was the corpse. Humans often strip themselves of their second skin when they are in peril. Death carves at the fragile, eroding stonework of their minds and it produces a tragic sculpture that’s haunting to behold.

“A certain strawberry devil ranted to me about how you ought to submit your app. It was so bad I felt like I was the one getting lectured.” With a sharp tut, Cater adds in the best condescending tone he can muster, “Shame on you. You’re the worst. You’ll be cursed for a thousand years and more for such a heinous crime. Or maybe I should say you’ll lose your head instead? This is Riddle we’re talking about and that’s basically his catchphrase.”

Scoffing, you snuff your laughter and drag the dainty nail polish brush along your fingernail. At once it’s stained in brilliant gold, a color so rich it mirrors all things wealthy and elegant—expensive finery, the retreating sun in a cotton candy sky, the polished prestige of valiant knights who don silver and return to aureate statues honoring their legacy.

“Yeah, he got on my case this morning. Nothing new.”

“That’s Riddle for ya. He’s had his entire life laid out since birth and now he’s going to try to mend yours. He was like that when we were in school. Always chartering courses for our academics and stuff like some pilot. All aboard Riddle Airlines, where your journey’s filled with beheadings and rules and crazy pressure! Honestly, it was a little overwhelming…”

“First of all, keep me as far away from Riddle Airlines as possible. And secondly, who said my life needed mending?”

“Not me,” he says in a teasing sing-song. “Seriously, though. If you don’t wanna work there, tell him. Riddle won’t know how you feel unless you let him know what's up, point-blank. TBH, it’s starting to look like you enjoy it when he scolds you. Who knew my adorable (Name) was such a devilish masochist! Where was this when we first met?”

“Hah. You wish. I’m just glad Riddle and I are on talking terms again, even if most of it’s work-related. It’s still surprising he moved all the way out here. I wasn’t expecting he’d work at DD either.”

“Right?! It was way too impulsive! One day he calls me—completely out of the blue—and asks what you were doing with your life. I told him he should just text you to get the latest scoop, but he was so insistent that it had to be me. Eventually I gave in and shared the goss, and a week later he declared he was moving.”

“What’d you tell him?” You spread your fingers to inspect your iridescent nails.

“I said you were getting married to a rich man who swept you off your feet, and the two of you will live in a big house and have three kids.”

“Knowing Riddle, he probably believed it.”

Cater barks out a laugh. “JK. I said you’re working at DD and that you’re finishing your degree. That’s all.”

“Huh.”

“You don’t sound very convinced. What? Don’t tell me you think I’d give him the full truth. It pains me that you have such little faith in your bestie.”

“You didn’t, right?”

“Of course not. Riddle doesn’t need to know. Actually, what have you been up to lately? I never know anymore.”

“Says Mr. Magicam. You always know what’s going on.”

“Aha! Guilty as charged, Your Honor.”

Your hand lowers on your lap and you lean back against the headboard of your bed. For a minute you listen to the ticking clock on your nightstand while the cloying stench of nail polish assaults your nostrils. Cater doesn’t say anything and instead chooses to wallow in the silence with you. Eventually, you inhale a quiet breath and tap your phone until it’s brightened to show the outgoing call counting out every second. It breaches the ten minute mark.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything for you.”

“If Riddle asks about me or my life again, tell him everything’s fine.”

“Done and done! You can count on Cay Cay. Just know that he’ll continue to worry no matter what I tell him.”

“I wish he wouldn’t,” you mumble, blowing on your nails in hopes of getting them to dry faster. “Do you think gold suits me?”

“Oh? Is someone going out? What a shame. And here I was getting ready to pop the age-old question.”

“Karaoke can wait. This is important.”

“No fair. I really wanted to duet with you. Some friends are coming in tonight, too. I was gonna make it a big thing.” The faux dejection in his tone has you imagining the accompanying pout. “Is it that guy again?”

“He wants to get dinner and I forgot to buy groceries. And if I’m getting a free meal out of it, why should I decline?”

“Using your resources wisely. Good for you,” he praises. “So what’re you wearing?”

“A black dress.”

“Have fun at your funeral. Don’t you want to wear something brighter? The sun sets in an hour, lovely.”

“It’s cute, okay! I’ll video call right now and you’ll see what I mean.”

“I believe you.” Cater’s face appears on the screen moments later and you struggle to hold your phone without ruining your still-drying nails. He peers at you and when you catch his gaze he winks. “Where’s the dress? All I see is a cutie.”

“Gross.”

“You’re so harsh on your bestie! Cut me some slack! Can’t I shower you with my platonic affection?”

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, look. It’s cute, right?” Flipping the camera, you present Cater with a view of the strapless, thigh-length dress as it hangs off of your doorknob. He whistles playfully. “I have to put in some effort at the very least and this is the only fancy-looking dress in my closet. I’ll find a necklace or a bracelet to match and then we’ll be good to go.”

“It’s a pretty dress for a pretty lady. I’ll give ya that. Why black and gold, though? I thought you said this guy was into sailor aesthetics.”

“He is. He likes cutesy stuff like that. Lace and frills and summery dresses. But it’s not like I can show up to a five-star restaurant in sailor lingerie.” You heave an exhausted sigh while he cackles at the mental image of you turning up half-nude to a fine-dining establishment. “I can’t afford most of what he can, so I’m trying to look rich. And… Well.”

“What?”

“I don’t feel rich.”

“You know what they say. Fake it until you make it, cupcake. Are you worried he’ll make you foot the bill if you don’t look the part?”

“No. But I’ve been thinking about ending things with him and I want to look somewhat presentable so he won’t judge me when I break up with him after dinner.”

“Dine and dash? More like dine and dump. Rest in pieces, mystery guy’s heart. You’ll be remembered… But why now? Isn’t he rich? You could hang onto him for a few more months—at least until you graduate and he’s paid off your student loans.”

It’s not real love.

“He can’t reach all the right spots,” you admit with a sheepish laugh.

“That’s all? Oh, how I mourn for you…”

And I hate burdening him with the thought that it might be.

“I read an article about a murder that happened near your workplace. What was it called again? The Devil’s Dignity? Death? Delicacy?”

“It’s The Devil’s Delight, and they’re saying the body was dumped there. So technically he wasn’t killed under the boardwalk.”

“Regardless, that still means someone killed and disposed of a human being.” Azul sips at his lemon water, a grim frown turning his lips down. Amidst the chatter in the palatial restaurant and the jazz band that plays notes so suave and mellow they’re practically musical caramel, your date fits into the puzzle with flawless grace. You wonder if you look as out of place as you currently feel. “It could have been you. You should be more conscious of your surroundings.”

“It’s not going to be me. Whoever killed that man has no reason to come after me. I’m working minimum wage, I don’t have any rich relatives, I’m not worth any ransom, and I don’t have anything that can be used against me in exchange for my life. No kids, no spouse, no safe filled with a crazy, worth-killing-for inheritance. I’ll be fine.”

“There doesn’t have to be a reason. You could’ve been accessible. An easy target.” He shakes his head and sighs, setting his glass on the pristine tablecloth. “It’s too dangerous out there. You’re better off moving in with me. I recently upgraded my security system, so if anyone does come after you you’ll be safe.”

“But I already have an apartment.” You lift a butter knife from the table and run your fingernail along the blunt, serrated edges. “Besides, living together is a little…permanent. Wouldn’t it bother you if we were roommates? I’m noisy and I stay up late. I’m also unorganized and—”

“I'm aware, but what’s mine is yours. I welcome your company, no matter how noisy and unorganized it may be, with open arms.” Your silence doesn’t seem to be the answer he’s searching for because he clears his throat and schools his expression into something serious. “You’d be much closer to school and there are lots of things to do in the city. Job opportunities are plentiful.”

“I’m going to work at an aquarium.”

“Really?” Azul quirks an eyebrow.

Wringing your hands under the table, you gaze at the golden chandelier that hangs overhead, light winking from each individual crystal like perfectly whitened fangs. “I already submitted my app and I’ve been waiting to hear back from them. So I can’t make any promises until I get a response. Sorry…”

“No, no. I completely understand. You’re chasing your dreams, after all. It would be rude if I intervened.”

It looks like there’s more he wants to say, but with the sudden arrival of the waiter any addition goes unspoken and interrupted. You set the knife in its rightful place while he decorates the table with your dishes. A delicious aroma wafts from the meticulously arranged portion, and it looks so picturesque that you can’t help snapping a photo while the waiter drones on about each meal and how it was prepared. You doubt the salad Azul ordered was a painstaking process, but your dish resembles an art piece swiped from a museum and recreated in food form.

What did I even order again?

Tiny, bite-sized balls of meat have been grilled to perfection, a thin layer of grated mozzarella has been sprinkled over it like snowfall, and in the center of the dish, sitting piled amidst a black sauce, is spaghetti with a basil garnish. The creative display reminds you of tiny meat planets orbiting a pasta sun.

“An aquarium,” Azul says after a few minutes of watching you poke at your meal, sip from your white wine, and avoid eye contact like it’s a loaded gun pointed directly at your head. “You’re studying marine biology, aren’t you? What exactly would you like to do at this aquarium?”

“Train dolphins. No. Actually, I want to rehabilitate injured sea creatures.” You stab a chunk of meat and bring it to your lips. “Maybe live on a boat to study merfolk? Or coral reefs? Sea conservation?”

“In other words, you haven’t the faintest clue.” His blunt declaration squeezes a laugh out of you and he sighs. “(Name), I want to help you achieve your goals. I think marine biology is a wonderful fit for you, but you can’t just skate through your degree without a solid plan. Do you want to travel abroad for your job? Do you want to settle down and live with me instead? These are questions that need answers.”

“Wait. What?” You gaze at his hand as it crawls across the table and settles atop yours like a spider cornering the unfortunate fly that fell into its dainty web. “Azul?”

“I want to do everything I can to support you so that you’ll find the success you deserve. But I worry about you. When you live in such a grimy hovel—excuse me, a cramped apartment—and you’re barely making enough to survive… I can’t turn a blind eye to that. You know you can lean on me whenever you want. No matter what happens, I will always lend you my hand. And I hope that you’ll take it when it’s offered.”

His arm retreats from you and he reaches into the depths of his blazer, his overbearing determination freezing you to your seat. You’re not quite sure if this is the moment where all of your fears erupt and overflow like molten magma, so ferociously hot that it chars your insides and leaves your heart in ashes, but it certainly feels reminiscent of a situation on the verge of a volcanic eruption.

Bathed in the ethereal aqua from the tropical fish aquarium, a massive display that sits in the very center of the room and stretches towards the ceiling, Azul cradles something small and cube-shaped in his palm. Before you can excuse yourself from the table, the urge to flee to the washroom more present than ever, he rises from his seat and lowers to the floor, one knee propped against the marbled tile. You stand as well and, painted in cobalt hues, it’s as if you’ve found yourself at the sea floor, shackled amidst waterlogged sailors. Fish peer at you as they pass, curious enough to watch from afar but not wishing to get between you and your date.

If you thought you were on the verge of death before, your heart is already flatlining and lava is streaming from the volcano, snapping at your heels like the red-hot jaws of a famished devil.

Azul is an angel in his fine suit—the king of pure, everlasting sugar snow—and he bows before you, a princess hailing from a land in shambles. Like the decrepit, abandoned ruins that reside within your chest, you want nothing more than to crumble into dust. Regret drives a stake into your side when the velvet box props open, revealing a sparkling ring with a cornflower sapphire positioned in sterling silver so glossy it reflects your shock. If such a moment can be classified as otherworldly, then you certainly feel alienated amongst Azul and the many onlookers who turn in their seats to ogle at the touching spectacle.

“I know we promised we wouldn’t let this get too emotional,” he says, his usually debonair expression fraught with bashfulness. Hesitating for a single breath, he removes the ring from its silken coffin. Your heart sinks all the way down to your stomach, nestling amongst your intestines like a worm desperate to evade the ravenous bird that pecks at it. “But everything you do makes me feel so… Well, so emotional. There’s a better word for that, surely, but when I’m with you I lose all forms of coherency and I feel like the luckiest creature in all of this vast world. I’m honored to have met you, but I would be even more honored if you’d continue to stay by my side. Not as a friend, not as a benefit, but as mine to love. Forever and always.”

You’re trapped under the intensity in his stare as your eyes dart to and fro, searching for an escape route. Azul’s gentle voice pulls you back, a reminder that this is a reality in which you can’t just conveniently disappear from.

“(Name), will you marry me?”

Raw horror prickles your skin when the ring winks at you in the dim light, a reminder that you’re stuck on this stage until the curtains fall. You glance at the people who watch with bated breath, eyes wide and prying. As if a noose has been fastened tightly around your neck, you lose the ability to speak and are instead forced to open and close your mouth like you’re gasping for oxygen in a tumultuous sea. You’ve always enjoyed the whirlwind of luxury that envelops you when you’re with Azul, and you’ve admired the way in which he operates with mounting adoration. But you’ve never once considered marriage. The both of you made an oath two years ago—a sacred vow that must never be broken no matter the circumstance.

You meet his unwavering stare. “Play along. Say you’ll marry me,” he whispers with a wink. In a much louder voice, he adds, “My love for you isn’t a sickness. If anything, it’s the cure-all to loneliness. I’d like to be your panacea, if you’ll allow it.”

“I…” Tears well in your eyes and your lip quivers. “Of course I’ll marry you. I…love you, Azul.”

Those words cauterize your tongue, branding you as a liar.

As delicate as a butterfly, Azul slides the ring onto your finger. You stare at it, and when he embraces you it feels as if you’re merely a statue of yourself—a vacant ghost who cannot return to the mortal coil she was once bound to. Your arms wrap around him and his kiss lingers on your cheek.

“And I love you. More than you’ll ever know,” he murmurs before pulling away and grinning at the audience.

His hand slides into yours and it’s a warm gesture that would have comforted you if the situation wasn’t so off-putting. Now it’s frigid and unwelcoming, a strange sensation that unnerves you. You stiffen when he squeezes it and a single tear streaks down your cheek when the crowd erupts into thunderous applause.

“She said yes!” Azul exclaims, breathless with joy.

The beauty of a stranger is that he can fit himself into as many portraits as he wants and you’ll never know the truth, a tiny voice pipes up. Tonight, he is a magician and you are the rabbit he’s pulled from his bottomless hat.

Once the commotion has died down and you’ve lowered into your seat, fish-eyed and hollow, the waiter returns with a slice of chocolate mousse cake. Written on the plate in waltzing script is the word congratulations. You look to Azul for an explanation after the waiter has given his kindest regards. He folds his hands in his lap, a deceptive smirk darkening the softness of his face.

“After the show we so graciously put on, I’d say we’re owed a free dessert.”

You run your finger through the crimson letters. They smear in delightful streaks.

I hate this.

“Go on. Dig in.” Thoroughly delighted, he gathers a bite on his fork and holds it out to you. “Or is cake not to your liking?”

“I like it, but I think I’m going to need another drink before I eat it.”

Azul chuckles. “So it would seem.”

For the rest of dinner, you remain silent. Azul talks your ear off about all sorts of stories he finds comical, but you’re too busy staring at the ring on your finger. The lustrous gemstone looks too perfect to be real and the cake you indulged in was too sweet to be a normal dessert. You’re certain that these things are just in your head—that you’re just focusing on the negativity because of the past hour—but you can’t shake the sense that it’s all so crooked.

After Azul pays, he escorts you to the sleek sports car waiting outside, and you catch the waiter’s eye for the final time. He offers you a courteous smile and another, “Congratulations on your engagement,” before disappearing into the glimmering grandeur of the restaurant.

“You should consider it,” Azul tells you while Floyd, who hums along with the music that spills from the radio in upbeat harmonies, pulls out of the parking lot. You peer out the window, admiring the starless night sky and Azul’s reflection painted against the glass like a fuzzy constellation. “Living with me. It could be part of our arrangement. We would just amend the terms to suit this new addition.”

“I’ll think about it. Your place is a little far from the diner.”

“Then quit.” A dry laugh escapes your pursed lips, but the humorless expression he wears has it sticking in your throat. His fingers trace patterns into your thigh. “I only want what’s best for you. You’re aware of this, yes? I’d do anything for you.”

You force a small smile and place your hand over his. “I appreciate that.”

The car speeds under an overpass and shadows overtake the inside of it. Azul’s blue eyes seem to glow like twin searchlights in a black sea. Swallowing your nerves and an encroaching confession, you submit to the comfort he provides, unable to confront the truth that towers over you.

“It’s an expensive ring, but if you’ve grown attached to it you’re more than welcome to keep it,” Azul suggests as he shrugs his blazer off and hangs it on the coat rack.

Ignoring him, you drag yourself through the door, kicking your heels off without much regard to where they may land and dropping your purse on the nearby crescent table, and beeline for the kitchen. With a singular goal in mind, you open the wine cabinet to peruse the selection of high-quality spirits before selecting one at random and fishing through a drawer for the corkscrew. Azul’s arms form a familiar cage as he presses himself against you from behind, pinning you to the counter like a fetal pig on a dissection table.

“You’re unusually quiet. Have I upset you?” His lips are warm against your neck. One hand intertwines itself with yours, preventing you from prying the cork out, and you release an annoyed huff. “How many glasses has it been now? Three? Or perhaps four?”

“Two. It was two, Azul.”

“So you do have a tongue.”

“I get that free dessert is appealing and all, but a little heads-up would’ve been nice.” Ripping your hand free, you stab the screw into the cork and twist until it’s popped free. “You promised it wouldn’t get emotional.”

“And I’ve kept my promise! Did you think I was serious when I got down on one knee? You must be more gullible than I thought.”

“It just… It startled me, okay? You can’t do stuff like that without warning me.”

You crane your head to look at him and your frustrations slowly evaporate. He squeezes your waist, a slight smile tugging at his lips when the tension in your shoulders droops, a momentary resignation to temporary contentment. Once again, as always, you’ve fallen into his arms, reduced to nothing but putty when he shares so much as a glimpse with you. The sincerity he dons is almost tangible—a pleasant thing that’s so undoubtedly real that you have to remind yourself that, underneath the physical nature of this relationship, he does indeed care for you.

And you care for him. But can you care enough to not leave his heart in shambles after puncturing him with the truth?

Tonight just isn’t the night for this.

“It won’t happen again.” He spins you around, his pelvis connecting with yours, and the sensual proximity stings more than it should.

I’ll break it off tomorrow.

“It’s just physical. That’s all it’ll ever be. Promise me.”

Azul’s hand finds your cheek and you lean into it, eyelids fluttering shut. “Of course,” he mumbles, stroking you with the pad of his thumb. “Just physical.”

Yeah. Tomorrow. Definitely.

“Then let’s forget about it!” You drift away from him like foam caught on a wave, devoured and disintegrated. Without thinking, you grab two mugs from the dish rack and fill them to the brim with blood-colored wine. “Drink with me.”

Smirking, he lifts his mug from the stone countertop. “Going from glittering glass to poorly made pottery… Funny.”

“It doesn’t become funny if you say the word,” you advise, clicking your tongue. “We made these mugs together.”

“I remember.” Azul surveys the design on his with fondness. The handle is crooked and the purple octopus that has been carved into it is composed of wobbly, jagged tentacles. Nevertheless, it still manages a lopsided smile. “And they are my finest works of art.”

With an amused snort, you lift your mug to your lips and drink. Bittersweet wine stains your tongue. “I’m surprised you still have them. That was, like, so long ago. You only did that pottery class with me because I begged and begged, but looking at them now maybe we’re better off sticking to other hobbies.”

Leaning against the counter, he sets his mug down and folds his arms. “I’ll have you know that they'll be priceless masterpieces one day. Consider yourself lucky I didn’t toss them while I was cleaning.”

“Someone sounds sentimental.”

“Someone should be flattered.” Limpid eyes holding summer skies rove over your body, sketching your brilliance in the forefront of his mind, and when he arrives at a satisfactory image his trademark smirk-grin blooms. “In any case, thank you for entertaining my mischief tonight. I’d say you’ve earned yourself a reward.”

His hand finds your cheek once again and you have only a moment to brace yourself before he captures your lips with his. Your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug, which has a carving of a swarm of jellyfish on it. They exist in a red ocean, bound to the pottery and unable to swim freely. Between pondering trapped jellyfish and the delicate nature of Azul’s kiss, you realize you’ve forgotten to reciprocate. Awkwardly, you search for the countertop with your mug and set it down before throwing your arms around him.

Your lips fit perfectly against his and while the two of you exchange breath, melting against one another like ice floes in warm waters, Azul’s hands wander along your back, fingers tugging at the zipper on your dress. You break away with a low gasp, palms pressing against his chest. He peers at you with lidded eyes and you nearly drown in those bewitching blues.

“N-Not tonight…” You glance at the floor and pray that, with enough dedicated wishing, you’ll be able to will a rabbit hole into existence. Then you could wrap yourself in darkness and live with the worms in the soil, only ever fearing intrusive sunlight and gardeners. “Sorry, I’m not feeling it tonight. I have work tomorrow and I really don’t want to be hungover and sore. Bad combo.”

“You can call off. Tell them you feel sick. We’ll spend the morning doing whatever you want. Movies. Junk food. Video games. Are you fond of puzzles? They’re a good stimulant for the brain.”

“I’ll be sick with hickies,” you mumble, pinching his cheek between your golden nails while he fixes his lips into a convincing pout. “That’ll send a proper message.”

“I did say I’d be your cure-all, did I not?”

“Coming from the guy who thinks love is a sickness, that doesn’t sound very reassuring.”

He laughs. “You’re a delight, (Name).”

“And you need to do less talking and more drinking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Why must you drink so excessively?

It’s one of the few coherent thoughts produced by your hazy, inebriated mind. After bidding Floyd a slurred farewell, which he responds to with a bright, close-eyed grin and a wave, you begin the treacherous stumble towards your apartment complex. You rifle through your purse in search of your key as you trudge through the lobby and into an elevator, which takes you up to your floor and spits you out into the desolate hallway.

Where is it? Don’t tell me you dropped your key.

Groaning, you rest your head against the surface of your door and close your eyes for a moment of peace. Doing so only adds to your unbalance and you sway like a faulty ballerina on an uneven stage. Bracing yourself, you grasp the doorknob and freeze.

Even through the fog that’s descended upon you, you’re certain it was locked when you left for the restaurant. Confused, you push the door open and stagger inside, slapping your hand along the wall for the light switch. Down the short hallway, your kitchen light is off and you shuffle through the threshold to reach it.

“You sound so stupid right now,” you grumble, cringing at the unflattering grittiness in your tone. “Probably look just as stupid, too.”

Forget it. Need to find the key. Just retrace your steps.

After turning on the lights in the kitchen, you set your purse down and exhale slowly. Uncaring whether or not you break something, you empty its contents onto the counter and search for your apartment key. Amidst crumpled receipts, pocket-sized makeup products, and a tin of mints, you learn that your key and phone are missing.

You left it at Azul’s. Wonderful.

Sighing, you stare at the knife block that sits beside the coffee machine. Your gaze hardens the moment you realize all of the knives are missing and, with growing confusion, you take a wobbling step back and yank open a drawer. The forks and spoons are there, but the knives that usually reside there are also gone.

Did you move them? Shaking your head, you shut the drawer. That’s not possible. You were with Azul. Did Cater come over before that?

A faint creak permeates the space and you drop to your knees just as a blade swings through the air. Gritting your teeth, you stare up into the face of your would-be assailant had you not moved. He looms over you, mismatched eyes hiding murderous calculations. Terror turns your blood to ice and you leap out of the way just as he lunges for you, grabbing at the countertop instead of your arm. You crawl through the doorway into the living room, mind muddled with fine wine and a still-forming escape plan. Pressing yourself against the coffee table, you swallow your nerves and dig your nails into your palms with so much force you’re certain you’ll break skin. The pain grounds you momentarily, and it’s enough for logic to force its way past the curtains shrouding you.

You have to calm down.

With your heart pumping wildly in your chest, you heave a few frantic breaths, eyes flicking from the ceiling to the floor to the door that waits at the end of the hall, blocked only by the tall figure who stalks towards you.

“Good evening,” he says, his voice a mere ghost in the suffocating silence of your apartment. His finger taps against the sleek, flat belly of a knife as he considers the raw fear splayed across your face. “I retract my previous greeting. Intruders make for terrible evenings, wouldn’t you agree? I suppose I should just say hello instead.”

Calm down. Calm down and consider your options. You can scream and—no, with this proximity he could quickly cover the distance, slash your throat, and you’d bleed out before help could even get here. What else can you do? You can find a weapon to defend yourself with. No, he hid all of the knives. For now, stall him. Act helpless. He doesn’t know anything. You can talk your way out of this.

Uncurling your fists, you brace your palms against the floor and meet his vacant stare. “J-Jade, what’re you…doing here?” Your vision swims and you blink rapidly to gain control of your bearings. “Why… Why do you have a knife? W-We’re friends, aren’t we?“

“Are we?” he asks, tilting the knife back and forth as if considering the worth of your relationship.

“Of course! We… We worked together! And you’re friends with Azul! S-So am I! So I don’t understand why you’d break in like this.”

“If finding companions via association counts as true friendship, then I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken when you label me as such. Please re-evaluate your definition of friendship.”

He’s wearing gloves and a surgical mask, so it’s obvious he’s planned this. How did he even get in? Does he have a key? Where’d he hide? Forget it. Focus on the problem and look for a solution. He has a knife. It’ll cut deep if enough speed and force are put into the stab and that’ll hurt you. Shoes are still on. How rude. You maintain eye contact, tensely waiting for him to pounce and drive the blade into your skull. No other weapons are nearby. Unless you secure a fork from the drawer and target his eyes or his throat. But that means you have to get close to him and he’s still armed.

Dragging your legs into your chest, you watch the knife warily. Escape is possible. If you can get outside, get to the car… That won’t work. Can’t drive. Windows could be smashed. But you’d be outside. No. You can’t rely on a neighbor. Maybe Cater or Riddle? No, it’s too late. But you can get out of here. It’s possible.

Jade glances at his feet. “Ah, my apologies. I seem to have forgotten my manners.”

With his eyes still locked on your shivering frame, he slips his leather shoes off. And then he takes another step towards you and the thread of restraint finally snaps once he’s within range. With the majority of your weight on your upper body, you kick your legs out, driving the top pieces of your high heels into his knees as hard and fast as you can. Caught by surprise, he crumples with a hiss and the knife clatters to the floor, sliding across the hardwood.

Scrabbling to your feet, you swoop down to grab it just as Jade swipes at you. With a yelp, you jump away, landing unsteadily on your legs. Your heel skids against the floor and breaks with a sudden crack, and you can feel your ankle twist unnaturally, the muscles straining with agony. Sharp, tingling pain overwhelms you and your lips part in a silent scream the minute your shoulder makes contact with the floor. Tears blur your vision as you drag yourself towards the knife, reaching out with splayed fingers.

The handle fits into your palm just as Jade grabs you by the arm and yanks you up.

“For a drunk, your kick was very accurate. I’m impressed.” He tightens his grip when you struggle, a warning that doesn’t deter you in your desperate frenzy. “I should also thank you for allowing me access to your humble home whilst you were away. You’re quite the accommodating host.”

Growling, you thrash in his grip and swing the knife around in a fit of blind panic. His hand catches your wrist before you can slash his face and he shoves you to the floor. A wheezing gasp bursts from deep within your lungs and your head aches with fizzling stars. You’re certain they’re imploding because it’s as if a dozen firecrackers are popping within your skull, the explosions drowning out all other thoughts of escape. Survival is the only thing you cling to now, and if that’s attained through animalistic bloodshed you’ll do what you must.

“Please…” you plead, grasping at nothing in hopes that something will save you. “You don’t want to do this… Don’t do this.”

Get up! Get up! You’re going to lose consciousness if you stay here like this. You push yourself up on your elbows, grunting with the effort. It’s as if you’re ripping your arms free from a pit of molasses so thick it’s practically tar. His foot finds the small of your back and he pushes you down as if he’s simply crushing a cockroach. No, no, no! This can’t be happening. What did you do wrong? What didn’t work? Your reaction time? Your reflexes? Your combat capabilities?

Sliding his foot off, he lowers himself onto your back and the tip of the knife digs into your temple. A thin ribbon of blood runs down the side of your face. “If you would be so generous, I’ll need the password to your phone.”

“My phone…isn’t here.”

His eyes narrow into disbelieving slits and his hand grips your neck with enough brutality to cow you into submission. “Is that so?”

“It’s the truth. You can…” Vomit rises in your throat and you swallow thickly, wincing at the acidic taste of wine and bile. “You can check…my purse if you don’t believe me.”

Silence stretches taut between the two of you. Eventually, he rises to his feet and steps over you, proceeding to pick through the pile of items you haphazardly dumped on your countertop. Clenching your jaw, you lift yourself onto your arms once again, clawing at the wall for support. With a spinning carousel for a brain, you manage to stand and brace yourself against it.

You take a daring step forward, so certain that freedom awaits just down the hall, and instantly stumble, landing on the floor with a harsh smack. Everything shifts in a swirling blur, and you can’t tell if it’s from the intoxication muddling your mind or the pain racing through your body. The urge to vomit returns stronger than ever, and you clasp your hands over your mouth, stifling a pitiful groan.

“It’s pointless to flee. You’re just exhausting what little energy you have left.” He turns to address you from where you remain on the floor, clinging to consciousness as the walls spin around in a dizzying waltz. Despite how futile it seems, you attempt to crawl away from him when he approaches. “I suppose I shouldn’t expect much when you’re in such a messy state. What an unfair disadvantage for you.”

“Hate you…” you whisper, tears brimming. “I hate you…so much.”

Just as your eyelids flutter shut, you catch his final words. They echo within your brain like the haunting hum of an Aeolian harp.

“I’d be more surprised if you loved me.” Chuckling, he lifts your chin with his foot. “Don’t cry. It’s a hideous look for a parasite. I find it most unappealing.”

I hope tomorrow’s horoscope is better.

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