#hands ashy as hell

[starlooove]

Parents when you stop caring what people think of you after they tell u ur whole life that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks 😨😨😨😨😨

[pseudowho]

Fire and Iron

Forced to stay the night with Nanami Kento, the town's blacksmith, after tending to his wounds, you find yourself smouldering in his irresistible flame.

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, loss of virginity

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Your boots cracked through the ice-topped slurry puddles scattering the mud path in the village. The shawl bundled over your shoulders was not enough, and the biting cold wind whipped your cloak back, stripping its usefulness off your shivering shoulders.

Townsfolk waved to you, nodding, smiling; greetings for a familiar face, many of them grateful for your travels to their icy town over the years, lacking even a basic healer of their own, let alone one so talented.

Passing by the blacksmith's hut on your way, you paused out the front, feeling the heat bellowing forth like dragon's breath. You tipped your head back, the smell of ash and steel filling your nose. As you paused, moments after, so did the clang of hammer on anvil.

You opened your eyes, stinging in the brutal cold and smoke. You, once more, like a hundred times before, had caught the eye of the blacksmith. He, whose name you did not know. He, who looked but never touched. He, to whom you had passed so many thousands of hours of your life, and his life to you, through gaze alone.

Stood proud at the anvil, shadowing the forge like the door to hell behind him, his broad shoulders wore only an open-chested white linen shirt, and a thick brown leather apron. With his ashy blond hair, and the lines of his face filled with soot, he was ageless and unknowable. He looked to you, his sharp face quiet and impassive; expression always somewhere between fury and tranquility.

Your lips parted once, as if to speak, and it jumped the blacksmith to life. With a barely perceptible nod, and a grunt, he swung his hammer back, brought down in beautiful accuracy, shaping smouldering steel. The clang rung through you, your chest jolting with a short gasp, and you collected yourself, stepping onwards. You were sure you could feel his cool gaze through the back of your head.

Another patient; another healed. Another grateful family; another life prolonged. The days were short now, and as you stepped out of the house of rough-hewn wood and stone, the forest pines were bathed in dying light, netting the low winter sun above the horizon. It was a punishing journey home, on foot, and the horses were long since put to bed.

The blacksmith's hut held its own sunset, the forge open but unattended. You heard stamps, heavy feet and cursing. You paused in the burst of warmth, illuminated, listening. Curiosity carried your feet into the hut, the heavy wet hem of your skirts collecting ashes, absorbing the blacksmith's domain.

"Are you...are you alright?" You called, uncertain, "Sir?" The footsteps, the swearing, had stopped. You stepped further in, feeling the forge belch at you, almost excruciatingly hot now.

"Get away from there!" The bark, deep and commanding, made you squeak and stumble. Darting through the side door, the blacksmith looped one thick arm round your waist before you fell towards the forge, effortlessly lifting you round, his back to the furnace, his face in shadow.

He was close; close enough that you could smell the soft sweat, the tang of fire and metal. He hissed as your hands dropped to his forearm, and you felt a cold dripping cloth draped over it.

"Do you often wander into places uninvited?" He snipped at you. You recognised the cadence in his low voice-- pain.

"I-- ...you're hurt," you insisted, voice barely above a whisper. Looking up, your eyes tried to gauge his unreadable face in the gloom. You felt him huff, warm air across your cheeks. His arm loosened, releasing you. As he stepped back, turning away to close the forge, you saw the blacksmith's mountainous shoulders tense, twitching.

"It's nothing," he retaliated, brisk. You stepped forwards again, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. At first, he flinched, then begrudgingly allowed you to turn him, and lift the damp rag covering his forearm. A thick welting burn, running the length of his forearm, lay weeping and angry on his skin, already nicked with so many little scars. You heard his teeth grit as the air hit his wound.

"Nothing," you scoffed, "this needs dressing. Let me help you." You felt him flinch beneath your hands, hesitant. He felt his skin prickle under yours, finding such curious pleasure in your touch alongside his pain. Your beseeching eyes took him the rest of the way, and he found himself accepting you.

"I...not here," the blacksmith toned, his eyes flitting to the town around him, "if they believe me injured, I'll lose business." You nodded, rummaging in your overburdened satchel, until he took you gently by the hand.

"My home," he began, hesitant, your hand so soft and small in his broad calloused palm, "you'll...you are welcome. It is clean. Quiet. I...I will not harm you. I promise."

Aware of his size and strength, aware of the air of mystery surrounding him amongst the townsfolk, the blacksmith was quick to reassure you. Your eyes softened, and his thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles at your words, electricity crackling up your arm.

"I know you won't," you assured. The briefest smile graced his severe face when you offered your name. You felt it warm you from the belly downwards. As he pulled encouragingly on your fingers, leaving the forge to die naturally with the approaching nightfall, you were led through the back of the hut, seeing a newly revealed sprawling cabin of wood and stone, at the edge of the forest. You felt the first kiss of snow upon your cheek.

"Nanami Kento," the blacksmith replied, welcoming you over the threshold. You smiled up at him, taking in his home; barely lit, at first, until he struck a lantern to life. You placed your bag upon a table, rummaging for salves as Kento began to build the fire, skilled and efficient.

You basked in the homely room; autumnal tapestries lining the walls, skin rugs on the floor and furs on the chairs, hanging herbs above a countertop, circled with hung skillets and pans. You relaxed easily into the sincerity of Kento's welcome. A frigid wind slapped the windows, rattling the door.

Before long, an enormous cast iron pot boiled with water, and you knelt before Kento, appraising his wound in the orange glow. Cleaning your hands, wetting a rag with clean water, you moved to clean the ash from his arm before pausing.

"This will hurt," you apologised, looking up to him. Kento's heart stuttered; how many hours had he spent, imagining those sweet eyes, those gentle fingers? Too long. Too many words unspoken over too many years. He was not used to such tenderness.

"I am used to pain," he hushed, smooth and barely audible above the crackle of flame, "my job has certain...hazards, after all." You hummed, swiping the cloth gently, removing dirt and debris.

"Still," you hummed, "I don't like to hurt a friend." Kento chuckled, and you felt yourself blush from hairline to toes at the rich mirth of it.

"We are...friends, are we?" His voice was low and conspiratorial, and you felt it stir a hunger deep within you. You smiled back, mulish as you dabbed salve onto his burn. His knees were parted, with you knelt between them, and your elbows rested on the thick muscle of his thighs. You felt safe, warm, held.

"All those years, passing back and forth," you sighed, teasing, "and not one hello? Just lots of nods," your stomach swooped as Kento laughed again, "and our friendship is just that. An accumulation of nods."

"Would we have stopped at 'hello'?" Kento retaliated. He caught the brief pause in your bandaging, before you continued. You spoke, uncertain again.

"Well," you hummed, testing the water, "offer me one now...and we shall see where it goes." Looking up, you gasped to find your face just inches from Kento's. He smiled at you, his eyes flicking briefly to your lips and back up again.

"Hello," he whispered, quiet and mischievous, "and thank you."

Your breath fluttered out; Kento could feel it against his lips, beckoning him.

"I...it's getting late," you started, and Kento blinked out of his reverie, glancing to the inky black outside his windows, "I should go."

Kento grasped your fingers once more, rising with you as he stood, your shawl shushing against his chest, barely covered by his soft linen shirt. Kento hummed, sounding grave, stepping to the other side of the room.

"It is night," he said, hands cupped around his eyes as he squinted out of the windows, "and the woods are barely safe in the day. I...I cannot allow you to travel. Alone, in the snow. You must stay."

His tone broached no argument, yet still you tried, packing your bag, your cheeks aflame.

"I...it isn't..." you stuttered, and Kento turned to you, chin inclined to the floor, one fine eyebrow raised. You took a deep breath, certain that if you didn't leave now, you may fall too deeply into Kento's insistent heat. Yet...you knew he was right. The path was treacherous. The snow would take you before the dawn.

"Would you like a bath?" Kento offered, turned away to save you your blushes; a gentleman.

"I-- please don't go to any trouble--" Kento swiftly ignored you, beginning to grasp the enormous iron pot, lifting it with stunning ease. His voice didn't even hitch.

"It's no trouble. I bathe every night. You can go before me." Kento carried the pan, stepping behind a folding wooden screen, and you followed him as if to argue, watching him begin to fill an enormous copper bathtub. Your hands shook as you began to remove your shawl, still blushing, so briefly overwhelmed before squashing it down.

Kento glanced up at you, pausing as he poured hot water, "This will take me some time," he said, apologetic, "please make yourself comfortable. I'll call for you."

You nodded, clearing your throat, hands twisting in your removed shawl. Kento chastised himself for admiring the soft curve of your breasts into your waist, the hidden delight of the swelling of your hips beneath your heavy skirts. He did not see how the steam rose fast, dampening his white shirt, how you could see all the way to his navel as he leaned over the bath. Neither of you knew how the other stirred within.

As you walked the length of the room, your fingertips brushing tapestries and grazing over warm furs, your curiosity drew you to a wide, flat trinket box, inlaid with mother of pearl, the colours an aurora in the rolling firelight. You stroked the box just once, before lifting the lid.

Your eyes crinkled immediately with joy at the treasures within; the box was full of lovingly crafted necklaces of gold, silver, pearl and gem, the chains finer and softer than any you had ever seen. You did not feel Kento approach as you admired them.

"I'd like for you to choose one," he offered, sincere, as you spun to face him. He raised his hands placatingly, a smile at the edge of his mouth, "not in lieu of payment, of course. A gift, I...made them with no real aim as to who should receive them."

"You made these?" You gaped, unable to fathom how such enormous hands crafted such intricate delights, "Kento, I-- they're beautiful, I couldn't possibly..."

If Kento had held any reservation, after hearing his name tumble from your lips, he was filled with the burning certainty that the jewellery should be for you, and you alone. His hand closed over yours as you moved to shut the box.

"Please," he breathed, so close, "choose one, or I shall give you them all." Swallowing, your hand hovered over a fine chain of silver and emerald, your fingertips brushing the gem. Kento hummed his approval, before picking it up, his calloused fingers all softness and grace.

"My favourite, too," he rumbled, brushing your hair off the nape of your neck as he clipped the necklace into place. You shivered at the feeling of his fingers on your neck, and almost ran as he whispered beside your ear, "Your bath is ready."

Stripping behind the wooden screen, hearing Kento amble around the room beyond, you sighed as the hot water enveloped you. Washing yourself with a soft sponge, cleaning off the grime of the day, your hand wandered absentmindedly downwards, fingertips grazing through your folds, naturally moving to relieve yourself of the building tension--

"I've left you a shirt." Your hand darted upwards with a guilty splash, Kento's voice only meters away behind the screen.

"Thank-- thank you," you squeaked, blushing, before climbing out, so naked apart from your exquisite new necklace. Drying on a soft towel, your hand hesitated over the shirt draped over the screen, before pulling it on over damp skin. It reached down your thighs, but left little else to the imagination.

Kento remained outwardly stoic, unreadable, averting his gaze as you crept out, arms holding yourself and squashing your breasts together, the colour of your nipples as faint as a ghost under the white linen shirt. He cleared his throat, coughing lightly before skirting past to the bath. You felt heat creep up your neck at the gossamer hush of his clothes hitting the floor, the shifting water as he stepped in, the way he sighed in relief, almost as if--

"I shall sleep in the chair tonight," Kento said, slow and considered, "and you shall have my bed." You felt indignation roll within you.

"Don't be ridiculous," you scolded, "you're injured, and this is your home--"

'-- and you are my guest," he grumbled.

"I won't allow it," you insisted, almost forgetting yourself as you approached the wooden screen, "I'll put some furs on the floor and--"

"You believe I would let you sleep on the floor?" He growled, furious at your suggestion, "I should rather you have me share the bed with you over that--"

"Fine. Then we shall share the bed. And there will be no more argument." You clapped a hand over your mouth as the words tumbled forth, unbidden. Mortified by your own suggestion, you removed your hand to speak again.

Kento stepped round from behind the screen, his towel draped lazily round his waist. You gaped up at him, stunned. He was...younger than you thought, his blond hair now soft and floppy, the ash removed from the lines in his face, taking ten years off him. You faced him, his towering form, the practiced rolls, peaks and planes of muscle belonging to a working man, his forearms so thick--

"Then...we should get to bed," Kento insisted, stepping past you, through a doorway to his bedroom, where you heard him rummaging for clothes, "it is late and I am up with the lark."

You hesitated where you stood, feeling your heartbeat between your legs, desperately curious, but paralysed.

"I don't bite," Kento called out, and you gulped down the sounds of soft fabric dropping over his body, still crippled with indecision and embracing yourself as he stepped out to put out the fire. You were lost momentarily in darkness before he stepped to you, the lantern between you, a beacon in the dark. You felt his hand close around your fingers again. You heard him whisper.

"It will become cold quickly, now the fire has died. Come. Stay warm."

You allowed yourself to be led to Kento's bedroom, hypnotised by the small swinging lantern. Kento led your hand downwards, placing it to the edge of the bed for you to feel your way, your fingers gliding through soft fur and cool sheets. With shaking hands, you crawled across to the head of the bed. Kento waited for you, flipping down the sheets, flipping them back up to your chin as you both slipped between them.

You heard nil but your own heartbeat. Kento faced you, the torch light embering behind him leaving him only just visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. The sheets had not yet warmed from your bodies, and you shivered. You felt Kento shift beside you.

"You...are cold," he stated as if in question. You remained quiet, gripping your hands to your chest lest they reach out for him.

"I'm...I'll warm up. Soon," you reassured yourself as much as him. You heard one doubtful grunt from him. Five minutes passed, and still, Kento felt you shiver against the sheets. Pulling a fur up to your chins, he felt prickles up his legs as one of your feet reached hesitantly out to touch him. He felt rather than heard you sigh.

"So warm," you whispered, your little voice soft with comfort in the dark. Kento's breath caught in his chest, feeling his cock twitch inside his soft trousers.

"Do you...need me?" He offered. He felt your other foot reach out in answer, cold toes wiggling against the downy hair on his leg. He felt a dangerous, needy arousal thread through him.

Reaching out his uninjured arm, he hooked it round your waist, chuckling as you squeaked when he pressed against you. You hummed in pleasure at the heat rolling off him, basking in his warmth, forgetting your awkwardness for a moment. Kento and you lay intertwined like that, with you softening like butter in his arms.

After a few minutes, you shifted against him, about to drift off to sleep. Kento must have been near sleep as well, groaning into your hair as you shifted, reflexively clinging you closer to him. Your bottom, completely bare with his shirt shifted up your body, pressed back to his groin. His clothed cock was hard and barely restrained in his loose trousers, and pressed between your thighs.

You felt a jolt run through you, feeling a warm trickle of arousal, so alien to you, seep out between your thighs. Kento almost saw stars as it dampened the trousers over his cockhead, and he frowned, his forehead pressed to your shoulder blade in apology and embarrassment.

"I-- I'm sorry, I--...it's been so long...since I've felt a woman-- shit, I'm--" Kento rested his nose against your neck, unable to stop himself from ghosting his lips there. You dropped your head back to him, and he growled in appreciation, nuzzling your neck, feeling your thighs clamp around the tip of his cock, your arousal seeping through his trousers and mixing with his own.

"I've never--" you whispered, blushing furiously, drunk on the feeling of his body against yours, feeling so curiously empty and aching to be filled. Kento understood immediately, and moved to pull back.

"No!" You squeaked, holding onto his arm, pushing yourself back to chase him along the bed, "Please, I-- I want--...you. I want you." Your words sat heavy in the air. Kento shifted behind you, at war with himself.

"You don't know what you're asking," he growled, fighting against you to remove his arm, "I am no boy."

"And I'm no girl, nor stupid," you reassured, "I'm not ignorant."

In an instant, Kento moved above you, on all fours, his arms caging you in, corseting you to his bed. He stared down at you, enormous chest heaving, eyes roving down your body, quickly intoxicated by your peaked nipples, beneath his shirt, the hem of it barely covering your sex, still feeling your arousal dampening his cock.

He leaned down, nestling his mouth against your neck again, tongue flicking out, tasting you. He felt you still under his lips, just a little mouse, in the jaws of a bear.

"And yet, all that knowledge is just academic, until you're crying out that my cock is too big for you," he growled, warning you away, barely able to stop himself. He felt you squirm beneath him, his head swimming with you. He was lost, then, to your tiny whisper in the gloom.

"Show me-- please." Kento shuddered, a drop of pre-cum seeping out of his cock, soaking through his trousers and your-- his-- shirt, to dampen your belly. You shivered, desperate to know Kento biblically, desperate for this fabled ecstasy.

Kento raised his mouth from your neck, reading your eyes, seeing such certainty in them. Tangling his fingers with yours beneath the sheets, he pressed the length of his body down against you as he kissed you, his other hand framing your jaw, gently encouraging it open to slide his tongue against yours. Your soft little moan was like music to his ears.

Kissing you deeply, learning your voice and your mouth, letting you learn the peaks and planes of his body with your free hand, Kento kept your other hand plaited with his own, fearful of leaving you to take this journey alone.

He felt himself shudder with the unbridled privilege of being able to worship you, jealously grateful that you had not been left to some boy. He was overwhelmed by the need to set your standards high at the first hurdle.

"Let me taste you," he murmured into your mouth, and you hesitated, unsure of what he meant. Swiping his thumb across your palm, Kento's mouth ventured downwards, sucking the skin of your neck, nipping before soothing the skin with his tongue, feeling you become pliable, supple as water. His fingers danced over the laces holding your shirt together, giving you opportunity to stop him, before untying them, freeing your breasts.

Laying his tongue flat over one nipple, Kento allowed it to curve to the shape of you, to know you, before drawing it into his mouth, sucking on your nipple while his hand toyed with and kneaded the other. He revelled in your whines, a high, keening mewl as you arched off the bed into his mouth. You felt his licks and sucks, curiously, between your legs, and you could not help but buck up against him.

Kento grunted at the feeling of your pussy pressing against his thigh, and moved one hand down to hold your hips still.

"Slow down-- let me show you," he ordered, gentle in his insistence. You trembled under his fingertips, your hips settling back to the bed. He rumbled his approval, rolling your nipple under his tongue again until you sighed, breathy and ecstatic, "Good girl."

In reward, his mouth continued to trail downwards, and your eyes fluttered closed, one hand coming to rest on the back of his head, your fingernails scratching through his damp hair. Kento shivered at the sensation, feeling his cock leap against his thigh.

When his mouth reached your mound, you squeaked out in alarm, flipping the blankets down to see Kento, illuminated in the orange light.

"What are you-- your mouth, Kento--" Kento's eyes crinkled up at you, and two arms came to loop round the top of your thighs, pulling you down the bed towards him, your shirt being rucked up against the drag of the mattress to completely expose your glistening pussy to him.

Maintaining eye contact with you, you trembled with anticipation as Kento poked his tongue out into a point, first grazing your folds, before stroking from side to side to ease in between them. The sound that broke out from you as his tongue stroked over your clit, hot and wet, was one Kento masturbated to for years to come.

You felt as though you had been lifted from earth and dropped amongst the clouds as he licked at you, sucking, stroking, tasting, the pleasure so otherworldly compared to what your own hand could achieve, that you felt yourself being rushed towards your peak at speed.

Twisting and squirming against his mouth, you reflexively tried to pull your pussy away from Kento's attentions. His arms tightened around the tops of your thighs, growling into you, pulling you back as you tried to scoot away. Your hand tugged at his hair as you arched, whimpering, coated in a fine sweat. As Kento groaned into your cunt, you watched his hips roll and hump against the bed, the sight alone enough to send your orgasm crashing through you, and you worshipped his name in a long, keening cry.

Kento let his laps and sucks become softer, languid, letting you float through the haze of your pleasure. Nuzzling at you, tasting you as you trailed lazy blissful fingers through his hair, Kento planted soft kisses to your inner thigh.

Moving back up, stroking his nose against your neck, Kento felt your hand move down his shoulders and back, before coming round to ghost over the front of his trousers. Kento shuddered, kneeling above you to remove his shirt, skin prickling with the need to feel yours against his own.

Gazing down at you, his eyes like whiskey in the flickering light, he grazed a palm from in between your breasts, down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head in one swift tug, exposing you completely to him.

Your hand still trailed over his groin as he knelt, and you were captivated, obsessed with the shape, weight and length of his cock in your hands, blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him. As you grasped the lace at the front of his trousers, undoing it, and squeezing the head of his cock between your fingers, Kento moaned, ragged, leaning one hand sideways to support himself.

"Fuck-- I haven't-- not for so long," he moaned, low and husky, feeling your inexperienced fingers explore his cock and balls in a way that felt almost abusively naive. As your thumb glided beneath his foreskin, collecting the wetness of his pre-cum, exploring his slit, Kento hissed, panting and grabbing your hand.

You broke out of your reverie, blushing with mortification, tears pricking in your eyes as you began to apologise. Kento interrupted, shushing you, one hand still gripping your fingers around his cock, the other coming up to cup your face, his thumb swiping across your cheek.

"Not you," he huffed, stroking your cheek, smiling down at you with fevered eyes, "me, it's-- I-- I'll cum in your hand if you carry on." Your eyes glimmered, hungry to see how he looked as you pleasured him, and you moved yourself, leaning close, squeezing him again beneath his own hand, and he cried out in pleasure. You felt another drip of his arousal across your fingers, and you gulped, your tongue darting out across your lips.

As you lowered yourself to his lap, Kento's eyebrows raised in shock, and desperate awe, as you licked the weeping cockhead sticking out from your joined enclosed hands.

A low rumble ebbed through Kento, his eyes suddenly dark and hungry as he looked down at you, wordlessly using your hand inside his own, to pump the length of his cock. Feeling the intoxicating glide of soft skin over woody hardness, you let him use your hand to masturbate himself as you took the head of his cock into your mouth, licking, tasting the musty pre-cum there.

Every instinct screamed at Kento to chase his orgasm, to press your head further down his cock so he could use your little hand to jack off into your mouth, and he felt overwhelmed by the innocent licks and sucks you gave him, eyes cast upwards to see what effect they had on him. Kento moaned desperately, twisting on his haunches, fingers in turn tangling into your hair and coming away, clenching and unclenching at speed.

He felt the approaching rush of divine ecstasy, thrumming up his back in waves, his balls tightening up against the base of his cock--

Snapping, Kento pulled your hand and mouth off him, heaving you up the bed and back onto the pillows, before pinning you down with his body, panting into your neck, trying not to spill his seed over your belly. You were thrilled, ecstatic with Kento's pleasure, eager to see more of it.

You crept your hips up to his, trying to ease his cock into you. Kento huffed, his hand shooting down to press your hips down again.

"--going to kill me-- I swear-- no idea...you have no idea what you're doing to me--" Kento panted, quaking above you, one forearm planted above your head. As his peak ebbed away, Kento plaited his hand with your own again, above your head. He felt his cockhead resting against the smooth resistance of your entrance, and he suddenly felt so responsible for you.

"I don't want to hurt you," he huffed, aware he was bigger than average, but knowing from the fevered look in your eyes that he could not dissuade you-- not that he wanted to, at this point, his cock throbbing with urgent need.

"Please," you begged, "please." You felt Kento's hips press forwards into your soaking wet heat, feeling a slight sting as it met resistance. Kento rested his nose to yours, his eyes still feverish, his body still smelling of iron and ash and smoke.

"On one condition," he pressed, authoritative as his cockhead pressed deeper against your stinging resistance, breaking past thin membrane, gripping your thigh up to his hip as you trembled, biting your lip, tears in your eyes as you nodded-- anything, you thought, anything.

"Marry me," he whispered against your lips, and you squeaked as you felt a twang of pain, his cock suddenly nestled deeply inside you. Kento rocked his hips gently, shushing you, soothing you, his thumb stroking your palm. Not moving, just holding you as you adjusted to feeling so full, Kento waited for an answer.

"Y--yes...yes," you mewled, and Kento growled his approval against your neck, slowly pulling out of you before rutting back into your wet, tender pussy again, so intimate and deep that you cried out for him.

Kento rolled his hips, like a boat on the waves, whispering into you, certain he wouldn't last long; "First-- I'll cum inside you-- then I'll treat you like a queen...haaah...for the rest of my days."

You clung to Kento, lost in the ecstasy of him plowing into you, delighted by his rumbling groans in your ears, blissfully proud of being able to make such an unflappable man fall apart inside you. When his grip on your hip faltered, his shaking hand dropping to stroke quick little circles around your clit, Kento growled and bit into your neck to feel you rock your hips upwards to meet his own.

The sting almost completely eased, you felt quick pangs of pleasure, rising with every beat of your fast little heart, completely carried along by the eroticism of Kento's frantic groans and mumbles into your ear.

"My love I-- you feel so good...so good...god, I need to cum, need you to cum I-- aahhhh, fuck--" Kento felt your pussy clench around him, and he came inside you as you drank down his moans, fascinated by how they matched up with the bounding twitch of his cock, how his hips juddered into you involuntarily, how his face contorted, jaw clenched, somewhere between rage and serenity.

You were famished, starved of him, immediately desperate for more, and you felt him crumple into you, caging you in, shoulders heaving and spent. Kento chuckled as you peppered him with kisses, gripping your thighs round him and rolling him over so you lay above him, straddling him as his cock softened within you.

With his chin on his chest to look down to you, and a lazy lopsided smile across his face, Kento played idly with your hair, stroking your nose, your cheeks. He proudly fingered the beautiful necklace, resting against your breasts, squashed and plush against him.

"You meant it?" He asked, eager, concerned.

You hummed in delight, pressing a tender kiss to his chest as you nodded; "You had me at 'hello'."

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Would the anon who requested Blacksmith!Kento PLEASE STAND UP so I can credit you for breaking my brain.

[emomanswhore]

—♡ —SIMON SAYS . . . ❞

SIMON GHOST RILEY X FEM!READER

✯. !! Synopsis : so you like to play mind games with ghost? goodluck, cause hes got a few tricks of his own to beat these little charades of yours. when he comes home to remind you whos really the expert at games—simon says...your playtime is over

✯. !! WC : 8.3K

✯. !! Tags & CW : explicit content! (18+ mdni) - hard dom!Ghost (he’s rlly mean), bratty! reader, sex tapes, masturbation (male & fem), choking/asphyxiation play, creampie, mating press, squirting, rough sex, spanking, subtle sir kink, size kink/difference, degradation, manhandling, orgasm denial, praise/petname usage, dumbification, dirty talk, (maybe?) prey and predator play, the mask stays ON. <3

✯. !! A/N : first fic and guess what, i wrote with my pussy on this one. hope you enjoy !! lmk what y’all think <33

Maybe this wasn’t your smartest choice in life.

Whether it's the sobering reality of sitting in the after-guilt of praying for negativity, or a complete backfire that could've made things entirely worse—most times, an action made purely from spite and pettiness, never ends up well.

This was one of those times.

Where guilt and the possibility of a backfire merged into one—a single, enormous, dark mass of gut bubbling anxiety.

You were given very, very simple instructions only a few days prior to this moment. And yet, all because your last few messages to your boyfriend were being left unanswered and open on seen, your willingness to take matters into your own hands—to finally get his attention, brought you more than you bargained for.

You had no idea what was truly in store for you once you decided to misbehave and break one of his very simple rules.

You missed your boyfriend, and while he was technically home from work for the week, he still had to go into the city for a few days to handle some business. And of course, for about fifteen minutes at the doorway, you kept fussing at him for leaving when he just got back home.

While it was certainly endearing to see how much you wanted him to stay, this was very important business he had to take care of. So all he could do was offer you a kiss on that pout you put up on your puffed up face. And as usual, you ate up every little crumb of attention despite not showing it.

“Shouldn’t take me that long before I’m comin’ back,” he pauses and looks at you, already knowing that glint in your eyes means that little brain of yours is up to no good.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted by you and have shit go to all hell. Not until business was handled.

He moves in a little bit closer so you can really see the seriousness in his gaze, tilting your chin up a bit to meet eye to eye. “Just keep your manners in mind while I’m away for a bit. I will be back sooner than you think, so that means no funny business out of you.”

You wish you could deny the implication of him saying you don't respect his space while he was out at work. But truth be told, you did want him to stay home for as long as he could. And the mere fact that work was being put over you, made an ugly bile of jealousy creep up your throat.

Luckily, your boyfriend was smart enough for the both of you, so he already knew you’d throw a fit over him choosing work instead of being at home. To take the edge off the situation, he once again pressed a soft kiss to your pouty lips. Like clockwork, you immediately folded from the little gesture of intimacy he gave you and he could feel the pout dropping from your lips instantly.

“But you’re my good girl, aren't you? ‘Yknow how to behave till I see you again don’t you, little miss?”

And weak you were, as you tucked your lips into your mouth and nodded all doe eyed up at him. When he lifted an ashy eyebrow up at the lack of your vocal response, you blink up at him all pretty and promise a, “Yes sir, I understand.”

“Atta girl.” and that's the last thing he rasped, before turning the knob to your front door and exiting in total silence as if he were never even there.

That was two whole days ago.

You really missed him.

That reasoning alone is what you kept telling yourself was enough justification to tease him and send a very lengthy video of you masturbating while he was away from home. 

A video you impulsively sent to your boyfriend, Simon Riley, or what most only knew to call him by, Ghost. 

A mystery of a man and the textbook definition of an enigma, who only brought more questions than answers everywhere he went. No one knew too much about Ghost, not even what the man’s true identity was underneath the infamous skull balaclava he never left the house without. The very few people in his closest inner circle, or whom he had some sort of mutual trust and respect for, usually asked the same questions when it concerned you:

How did such a recluse man manage to get himself a woman?

Doesn’t it get tiring, trying to figure out what's really going on in his head?

Out of all the men you could’ve been in a relationship with, why choose a man who could possibly never come back home?

Well, it wasn’t an easy start to your relationship with Ghost. Like most people brought up, the man came from years of solitary and preferably worked independently. It took well over six years to get yourself where you are now with him, and there were plenty of times where you two experienced hardships in your relationship. Sometimes his straightforward and blunt attitude really infuriated you, and sometimes your stubbornness and hard-headed tendencies deeply vexed him.

But the two of you learned so much while spending time together and bonding. Eventually you both came to a mutual understanding, that communication and respect was the biggest key to keeping your relationship stable. 

Ghost only demanded the utmost respect, and you could live with that as long as he talked to you and vocalized what was really on his mind. Sure, there were still plenty of things he wasn’t quite ready— or ever willing, to voice out loud about himself, but it never wavered the deep adoration and love he had for you. 

He trusts you. You know he does when you’ve had late nights that you both lay in bed together, sharing stories and telling each other lame jokes as he gazes softly at you. Everyone knew who Ghost was, but you? You were the only one in the world who knew Simon, and earned all your rights to see just who the man under the mask was.

You are the light of his world, and as much as he hates to indulge into what you call your “Princess treatment”— or what he better calls “Bein’ a proper little rotten brat”, he almost always gave into your ways. It was all harmless fun and playful banter when you went out of your way to make things difficult for Simon. That was fine though, since it always only took one trip to the bedroom to remind you of where your place was.

Hell, you were one insatiable jezebel. You both knew that secretly, this little game of cat and mouse was just another way you kept yourselves entertained for years now.

That’s why you thought almost nothing of it, unlocking your phone as you rested your back against the polished quartz granite of your marble sink countertop. Humming the melody of a song that lowly vibrated out your living room’s speaker, nails making sharp click clicks while you played around with your device to get to the photo gallery app. Well, to a certain little part of your photo gallery that was only for Simon and your eyes.

You always did have an interest in film and photography, and you used that hobby of yours to make a few collections of sex tapes with your man. It was something you both found to be very entertaining and highly stimulating to your sex drives. Sometimes even shooting another movie while an older one played in the background on your TV.

Your leg started bouncing as you traced your bottom lip with your tongue, taking the time to look and reminisce on each and every little thumbnail of the videos. I miss him, you exhaled deeply out your nose, already feeling that heavy ache between your legs as you practically salivate like a dog in heat. Fixating your drooping eyes onto one particular thumbnail of just him— you remembered this, how could you forget? 

A hard, grueling day at work, when Simon couldn’t even fake like he was completely nonchalant and able to disassociate from his own need for you. All he wanted was to come home to that pretty little face of yours and show you how much he missed you. So that day he let all shame and pride in his body leave, as he sent his own video for you… in its entirety of ten whole minutes.

Ten whole minutes of his phone’s camera slightly coming in and out of focus, as he sloppily fucked his own hand. Keeping an iron grip on the pounding base, so you could really see how much he wished you were there, without him releasing into his palm too early before he could make his message apparent to you.

"Fuuckk… Fuckin’ christ…" Simon hissed through his teeth, the egg shell skull plate stitched on top of the thick knitted mask slightly muffled his voice. If anything, the loudest thing in the room was the slick wet sounds of his hand roughly working on his shaft, completely coated in the pre-cum that leaked heavily from the flushed and angry tip.

"Fuckin’ need you, princess. Look at what you do to me… fuck— ‘m gonna show you—" He groans deep from his chest, tilting his head back so far that you catch a peak of his exposed thick neck. Dark veins bulging and pulsing through his skin, as he twists his hand tighter on his cock, "Show you what that pretty little pussy deserves. ‘Gonna treat it real fuckin’ good when I get my hands on you."

You felt your panties starting to stick against the twitching lips of your core, now whimpering at just the memory alone of what happened in the rest of that video. 

It wasn’t fair.

How could he have so much power over you, to make you literally wet your panties from just the thumbnail of a video? 

It's so not fair. 

Not when you miss him, and want him so badly—  but he still hasn’t come home yet or updated you on where he was. It’s almost like he wasn’t even thinking of you at all. Like he didn’t even miss you-

Wait. 

Like in the scene of a child’s cartoon, you swore you heard a ding! And saw the hot flash of a lightbulb pop over your head. Yes. Yes, that's it! 

Your fingers worked faster than the better judgment of your self conscious did, as it took you another few scrolls down to get to the most recent solo video that you made. The one you made only a few days before Simon came home. The one he never got the chance to see. And as humble of a person you believed you were, you couldn’t deny how enticing you looked in the thumbnail of the video.

 It was perfect, too perfect for the little trick you had up your sleeve. 

The camera propped up against the little fort you made out of your pillows, aimed perfectly to capture you lying on your back on the king sized mattress. A pillow— Simon’s pillow, under your lower back to lift your hips up. Just enough for the camera to focus solely on the dripping, wet heat between your widely spread thighs. 

Your pussy practically leaking like a faucet, as you drag your ring and middle finger in and out your tight, gummy walls. Fucking yourself so sloppy that juices run out your gushing pussy, trailing down your hole, and all over simon’s pillow.

It’s a mess… from the little puddle you left on his pillow— that’ll surely stain, to your cum sticking like a web in between the tight trap of your messy cunt, and to the garbled whines you let out. A siren’s melody of your sweet voice, whimpering mixes of ‘simon’ , ‘miss you’ and unintelligible words that only make your soft cries all the more enchanting and hypnotic.

Even then as you rewatched the video, you couldn’t help but gaze in awe at how pretty your faces of pure pleasure were, and how good your pussy looked glistening in the low lighting. 

Mhm, this’ll do alright. With more click clicks on your phone’s screen, you found yourself glaring down at your last message to Simon— still left as seen. 

That was alright though. You could bet a million dollars on this next move of yours, and walk away with full confidence that this current plan is the right move to take. With that being said, you clicked the little plus symbol next to the text message box and scrolled through the attachment options until you found the ‘photos’ selection. 

You clicked on your video and made quick work of attaching it to a message you also impulsively typed into the box. Not a single thought ran through your mind in that moment, the pounding of your heart and your pulse thumping in your throat blocking all second guesses. You couldn’t stop now. 

Fuck it.

One more click, and the next thing you know… you were staring at the thumbnail of your head thrown back into your pink, plush pillow. Eyes rolled completely into the back of your skull, and fingers dug deep inside your soaked cunt with Simon's pillow mushed underneath your ass. It was saturated so deeply that the formally navy blue pillow took on a deeper, almost black shade.

And what sat at the bottom of your video, was only the icing on your tooth rotting cake.

sent: miss u baby <3 come home now or i’ll keep playing w out u

You must've been stuck so deep in some sort of trance— one that filled you with a sudden dark swirl of unease that curled its way up from your belly and all the way into your throat. This trance kept you still for a moment, until you jumped out of your skin and almost dropped your phone on the kitchen floor from a sharp buzz! 

Blinking a few times and putting your hand on your chest to keep your heart from leaping out your body, you refocused your blearing eyes on the open message inbox. Except now, your text moved up a little to make room for the new one that just entered the chat. 

Your message— no, your video was marked as seen. 

But the message your boyfriend replied with left you feeling very ill from just it's three little words, you thought you were finally looking forward to see:

seen: stay right there.

You swallowed the saliva that sat heavy on your dry tongue. Feeling that familiar thump, and deep ache in your core start to resurface once again. 

Maybe today wasn't the day for a silly little game with Simon.

No matter how long you spent your next few hours completing errands around the house, you couldn’t make enough distractions for your mind to stop thinking about what transpired earlier. 

As much as you wanted to feel bad that your little video may have caused some trouble for Simon, while he was at work— the bubbling swell of pride inside you, made a cheshire-like grin curl on your face.

It was finally happening.

Damned work or the ‘business’ he had to go settle. You finally got him to look at his phone. To look at you, and without a single doubt in your mind you just knew that thumbnail alone must’ve thrown him off from whatever he was so busy doing.

But now you were the one that was stuck at home, lying in wait for him to come show you what was truly in store for you.

Stay right there.

What did that really mean?

Was it literal? Did he believe that you recorded that video in real time, and expected you to wait for him in that same lewd position ? Or was it a warning for you not to try running away from home, before he could finally make his grand appearance. 

You doubted it was the latter, since you never ran from dick. So what could make him think you’d start now? 

All you could think about for the rest of your afternoon was just what he was up to, and when he was coming to you. Sitting in the house alone only made your imagination run wilder and wilder. 

You couldn’t live like this.

The anticipation was eating you alive. And it took every fiber of will and strength to not send him another one of your videos, so he’d get the message and hurry up. You already gave him enough power from almost coming in your panties from just the memory of him pleasuring himself. You were trying to prove that you always come out on top of these games of yours. And there was no chance you’d submit to the temptation of begging for an answer to his cryptic message.

So you figured the healthiest way to cope and keep your mind off things, was to cook. Not just any meal either— but some of Simon’s favorite dishes that you make for him. Even if you were still a little frustrated by him ignoring you the whole morning, you still wanted to cater to your man. After all the old saying does go, ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’. And your endgame was to have a hot meal ready for him once he comes home, then finally get him to jump your bones after waiting for so long. 

It was going to be another night that starts off with Simon showing you how big and bad he is, fucking the brattiness out of you, and ending it off with tender pillow talk. Even just fantasizing of how easy it is to make him drop everything to come running home to you, has your confidence sky rocketing through the roof.

As you prepped your ingredients, you plugged in earbuds and maxed the volume up to the highest it could go. Next to cooking, music was always the best way to stimulate your brain and keep your head full of happy thoughts. The two went perfectly together, and you sang outloud to yourself while concentrating on the strenuous task of slicing cabbage into slivers. 

Your music was slowly lowering itself as it came to an end. And just before the volume died down completely and transitioned onto the next song–

You heard it before you could see it.

A set of heavy thump thumps making the floorboards creak and rumble, approaching fast from behind you. 

Next thing you knew, a heavy and hot palm wrapped around the back of your neck and practically knocked the wind out of you, with how violently your whole body was whipped around backwards. Before your mind could register the sharp throb of your lower back hitting the edge of the sink, an audible gasp squeaked its way out your throat. 

There he was. Simon was home.

The signature skull balaclava and smudged charcoal coating his face under the dim kitchen light, made him all the more terrifying. And with the way he towered over your much smaller form, all you could do was stare up at him as if you were some dumb little deer caught in headlights.

His eyes were casted down so low, so dark, so devoid of emotion that he almost seemed soulless. Here stood the empty husk of the same man who murmured a soft ‘you’re my good girl, aren't you?’ after pressing a slow, honeyed kiss against your lips. 

You make a weak attempt to play off how excited you actually were. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing out loud in his presence. Mustering a shaky chuckle, as you tried to ignore the light press his finger tips made against your throat.

“H-hey baby. God, you scared the shit out of me. Y’know you can’t do that to me while I've got this knife in my hand.” 

Obviously Simon could care less about your little rambing, his silence spoke the loudest between the two of you.

 He continued to apply light pressure, steadily flexing his fingers deeper and deeper into your neck, so he could hear the way your stuttering voice hitched from the slight lack of oxygen. His eyes trailed down to your plush lips, and dragged even further down to shamelessly gaze at the enticing way your cleavage sat in that little lace camisole. You weren’t wearing a bra, and he could make out the perfect outline of your nipples pressing against the fabric of the dainty cloth.

And of course he saw it. The little lift of the corner of your mouth, then the way you crossed and pressed your inner thighs together.

All not-so subtle telltale signs, that you thought this was still some little game that you thought you were the genius mastermind of. 

“Anyway, you ruined my surprise for you,” and you still kept your fucking mouth running. “I know you’re probably exhausted, so i started dinn-”

“Only thing you should be starting right now, is makin’ your way upstairs. Get everything you’ve got on, off. ‘Wanna see your ass up and ready for me, by the time i get my shoes off.”

Oh. 

Oh. That shut your mouth up, real quick.

The abrupt way he cut you off completely, and the fact that those were the first words he’s said to you all night has you gaping up at him like fish. 

He only stares back at you with blank indifference. You can only give him that stupid little look, before you snap out of being stunned and continue to try talking your shit and having some control over him.

“O-oh but i was just—”

“_____” The sudden boom of his baritone voice raising, knocked whatever rest of words you had sitting on your tongue. No princess or sweet girl— just your full name in its entirety, that sounded almost like a curse with how venomously he spat it out. 

It was slowly starting to dawn on you, that this was becoming a very dangerous situation you got yourself into.

Your shock must’ve been extremely apparent to Simon, so he let the tension sit thick in the air of the room. Really making you feel the severity of the situation that was transpiring. All you could do was stare up at him, all doe eyed and pull your wobbling bottom lip into your mouth as he took two more steps forward. Somehow you were able to keep some of your courage in check, looking him up in the eye even as his head hung down to glare down at you. 

“_____” he finally continued his words, again starting with your name, only in a lower guttural tone. “You are in no position to fuck around with me right now. Only ‘gonna say this to you one more time, before things get worse for you as it is— go upstairs, take off everythin’ you’ve got on and lay on the bed with your ass up. Don’t want another peep out your mouth, ‘less you wanna see what happens when you’ve thoroughly tested my temper. Wouldn’t want that now, would you, sweetheart.”

Simon drummed his fingers against your neck one more time, before he finally released it and watched you let out a soft wheeze of air. He looked over your body one more time before he turned his back to you, the heavy footsteps of his steel toed boots echoed dully in your ear.

Oh. Was that your cue to start making your trip upstairs? 

Was that a test to see if you would even attempt to disobey him, when he has clearly had enough out of you for the night?

You loved a challenge. And even as you looked what seemed to be your demise in the eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a warm gush out of your core, come running down the side of your sleep shorts. 

One step he took towards the doorway, was another stride you took as you practically hurled yourself up the stairs.

5.

You skipped a few stairs on your way up, feeling your heartbeat hammering in your ear on the mad dash to your bedroom.

4.

Flinging your top off haphazardly in the middle of the hallway, you couldn’t help but look back a few times to see if he was trailing behind you. 

The pounding of your feet against the floor, deluded your ratting brain into thinking that it was actually Simon chasing you. The dull creaking of his heavy boots on the floorboards, still echoes in your head. 

3.

You nearly knocked the bedroom door off its hinges, with the way that you heedlessly flung it open. Your chest heavily rises and falls as you make quick work of getting rid of your soiled sleep shorts and panties. 

2.

Raw adrenaline courses its way through your veins, vibrating all the way from the bottom of your toes to the top of your tingling spine. You made it. You beat him.

 Simon could challenge you all he wanted, but he could never beat the tenacity that ran through your whole body. You smile to yourself, thinking you won the battle and proved to him that he had no more control over your mind and what was between your legs–

1.

You were very fast.

But Simon was even faster.

Boots be damned, he could catch up to you in an instant.

You let out a loud shrill shriek from the feeling of two hefty arms wrapping around your middle, and lifting you up into the air. Your world turns upside down— literally and physically, as you find yourself thrown over Simon’s strong bare shoulder, like you were some sort of light weighted object. 

“Times up,” You feel the deep timber of his voice, while your body helplessly dangles onto him for dear life. “Told you to have your ass up on the bed, by the time I got my shoes off.”

You kick your feet in objection— but immediately cease your protest and squeal, when his heavy open hand comes down hard on your naked ass cheek.

“Seems like you can’t handle or understand instructions today, can you, honey?”

His taunting coo’s only make you dizzier, after he so carelessly drops you face first onto the bed. Your body bounces lightly off the mattress and you whip your head around to glare up at him.

“I can understand!” you stubbornly argue back, watching him scoff and shake his head. “You cheated, I got here on time but you picked me up before I could do anything.”

Your eyes take in his current appearance– other than the mask he kept on his face, he stood before you in all his mountain of a man glory. 

He was so big. 

From the wide, broad shoulders that just carried all your weight on it, down to the lean and toned torso, sculpted with hard, rippling abdominal muscles.

You practically whimpered at how big and thick his thighs were. Almost ready to give in and beg him to let you trace your tongue on the rigid V cut of his abs, all the way down to the wisps of the dirty blonde happy trail on his pelvis… and get a taste of what you’ve been craving for the last few days.

His thick cock stood tall in the air, curving up a bit against his stomach from the weight of the heavy, fat, dark tip. There was already a bead of precum running down the side, where a prominent blue vein stood out.

You drool just looking at it. Your mouth waters and jaw starts aching, as if you’re ready to feel that hefty press of the head on your tongue.

Simon knew exactly what you wanted. How could he not know, with the way your eyes grew heavy and your lips slightly parted. 

“It's too bad, isn’t it?” he watches your lips part wider, as he uses the tip of his thumb to smear the little bead of precum across the length of the shaft. Fucking tease. 

“Could’ve been feedin’ you this dick, and lettin’ you get full off of it. ‘s a damn shame, you act like you don’t know how to do what you’re told. And you keep running that fuckin’ mouth of yours.”

You puff your cheeks at him and kiss your teeth, “It’s ‘cus y-”

Before you could even think up an excuse, Simon cracks his open palm on top of your left ass cheek. Your loud gasp is like music to his ears, and he moves in closer to press that same palm down your lower back until you’ve made a perfect arch for him. He kisses his teeth back at you, looking at the drooling lips of your pussy already making your inner thighs wet and sticky. 

Spanking isn’t an unfamiliar thing he’s done to you, but to this degree? The force in his hits did so much to you. The hot stinging pain of it makes you wetter by the second. 

“Still seems like I’m not makin’ it clear enough for you, _____. Don’t even know how to take yourself upstairs and lay like i told you to. That’s the problem with you,”

He removes his palm from the small of your back. Winding his hand back far, just to bring it down on your right cheek this time. “Spoiled you and that sloppy little cunt of yours rotten. Can’t even get a fuckin’ job done without you fussing at me.”

Simon continues alternating heavy handed smacks on both sides of your ass, not taking a single break between his assault on your cheeks. Talking out loud to himself, as if you weren’t writhing around and whimpering from his merciless punishment. 

“Know what happens— stay still, when you wanna act like a desperate little whore? ‘Get treated like one. ‘Wanna act like you can’t sit and wait like a good girl? i’ll bruise this ass so sore that you won’t be able to get out of bed.”

His ruthlessness almost seems endless, and you start to lose track of how many times he’s striked your cheeks. 

Your whimpering turns into full on moans, fully turning your face into the sheets to try suppressing the loud sobs you let out. 

But Simon pulls your head back by the back of your neck, squeezing the sides of your throat, and giving you an even deeper arch in your lower back. “Can’t hide from this, sweetheart. You’re gonna learn to take what’s given to you, and stop being so fuckin’ greedy all the time”

He finally shows mercy on your bruised and flaming hot cheeks, deciding he’ll let you off with twenty two this time. He should’ve taken you over his knee and made you count the spanks out loud, telling him why you deserved each and every one. 

But the truth was, he was almost as desperate as you. Hasn’t even been anywhere near your cunt, but you soak the sheets as if that's the only thing he’s been playing with. His dick bobbed and twitched, at just the thought of your velvety walls wrapping around him. 

“S-Simon,” you babble and blink away tears that sit on your lashes. “Please baby, ‘m so close. I need you.”

Again, he kisses his teeth at you before putting his hand in between your drenched inner thighs. Listening to you keen softly, as he uses his thick middle and ring fingers to spread your thick pussy lips open. Watching your hole spasm and clench over nothing. Your little clit sticks out all pretty and swollen, just aching to get some attention. 

“And why’s that, baby, hm?” You’re so messy that he’s able to slip in his two fingers, immediately finding that little spot that has you squealing and pushing your ass back for more. He uses his other hand around your throat, squeezing it tight as a silent warning for you to lay still. 

“Why should I let you cum, when you’ve been nothin’ but an ungrateful little slut?”

You could cry real tears from him edging you like this. It’s never taken this long for him to make you cum. 

All this was so unfamiliar. Simon never dangled your orgasm in your face, and made you wait like this. 

It was time to drop the tough girl act, and admit defeat. He won. If it was for the sake of needing this pounding ache in your tummy to be relieved, you’d do anything to prove you deserved it. 

“Baby pleeaassee,” You’re unable to hold back the hot tears of frustration from running down your face. “I'm sorry, ‘m so sorry baby. Just please, g-god im sorry.”

You can practically hear the sneer in his next words, your hysterical sobs getting more and more pathetic by the moment—

“God? What’re you saying sorry to him for? God isn’t here to save you, silly girl.”

You feel the hot tip of his cock hovering over your twitching folds. He takes his sweet, leisure time to swipe the head through the sloppy mess of your pussy. Purposely avoiding the neglected little pearl, as he runs the tip up and down on your pussy. Getting it nice and wet before he’s pushing half of himself inside your sensitive, gushing walls. 

“But i’ll show you what heaven looks like, since all that’s been on your pretty mind, is gettin’ this little cunt of yours beat raw.”

Simon starts off at a brutal pace, pulling himself all the way out of your tight heat, before slamming all the way in. When he bottoms out inside you, your ass jumps and slaps against his strong thighs, making a sloppy plap. The bed rocks and groans, from the sheer ferocity and force he uses to split open your soaking pussy. 

Your voice belts out your throat, coming out as shrill squeals and moans. You go to reach your hand back to push yourself away from the deep strokes he gives you, but he grabs your wrist and pins it behind your back. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You never ran from dick before but this? It was too much. So much that you could hear the loud sloppy squishes of your contracting walls, working and squeezing around his length. The feeling of it all, sending you into hot waves of burning pleasure. Letting him have his way, and fuck you like he detested you. 

“Yeah that’s right, don’t fuckin’ move, or speak. Y’hear that? Only thing I wanna hear is how good this slutty cunt talks to me.”

All you can do is lay there and take it. He lets go of your neck, to snatch your arm and pin your other wrist behind your back. His thick forearms flex, the veins in them protruding out his skin as he uses some strength to rock you back and forth by your arms. You fear your arms may pop out the sockets, with the way he uses both of your arms as leverage to keep your body up and ready to meet his deep strokes. 

Your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your skull, with the way he fucks his fat cock into the depths of your core. You cry and sob a familiar melody that has Simon gritting his teeth, fucking into you at an even faster roll of his hips. 

“Know what this reminds me of,” His voice comes out as a deep rasp. He bows and leans his weight over on top of your poor little body, so he can press your face into the bed. Turning your face to the side, so he could continue murmuring into your ear.

 “Makes me think of that little video you sent. Reason why you’ve gotten yourself in so much trouble— ooh, naughty fuckin’ girl. Squeezin’ around me so nice. Y’like knowing I saw you act so sweet on camera for me? I was around my men when you sent it to me. Had to stop what I was doing, so I could see what you wanted from me so badly.”

You could barely understand what he was talking to you about. The deep rumbling of his voice, lulling you into an empty head and going dumb on his dick. 

All your fucked out little mind could do was blindly whimper and nod, just trying to focus on how the vein on the underside of his dick rubbed so good against your walls. You were so fucking close, you just needed more. 

“L-love you baby, mmm. I’m sorry,” You felt him lift a little off your body, and took the opportunity to turn your head more so you could keep eye contact with him. “Jus’ miss you so much, b-but i promise i won’t bother you. I won’t do it again. Swear baby, I swear.”

He only grunts in response, feeling his cock throb and get squeezed after he knocked the tip into your special little spot. “Only sayin’ all that because you need to cum. I can feel how close you are, princess. You’re gonna have to just wait ‘till I'm done having my fun.”

Despite that leaving his mouth, he grips your hips tightly before pulling all the way out. He shushes you as you let out another hysterical sob, and gets completely off the bed to go move closer to the edge.

 Honestly, if he left you alone like this you wouldn’t even mind. 

You thought a prayer to god for forgiveness. This abuse on your poor little pussy, was enough to make you ask for repentance. Never again would you make yourself go through this, and you silently begged that Simon would see the light too so you could be forgiven already. 

But apparently, god was not on your side today.

You felt his strong hand grab your ankle, and drag you down by the end of the bed. You started to complain until you were roughly turned to lay on your back. Now, you could properly see your boyfriends face— well, mask and the exposed eye portion of the balaclava.

You could see some sweat from his exertion, had ended up smudging off even more of the charcoal on his face. He only stared down at you, before he put both hands on your thighs and pushed them up until your knees squished against your chest. 

At this point you could only let him do whatever he wanted to your body. Not a single ounce of fight left in you as he settled between your folded legs, and started speaking to you. 

“Remind me again now, sweet girl. Whose pussy is this? Hm?”

You blink once, then twice. Even with the question being asked again, in an even slower way for you to comprehend, you simply couldn’t. Your brain was short circuiting, completely burnt out and purely running on the raw dopamine buzzing in your mind. All it could manage in that moment, was the soft mewl of a mmm that let itself out from the depths of your throat. 

Your mind so fuzzy, that the words ‘sweet girl’ coming from him only made you think of times of love and adoration. Times when Simon would make love to you; caressing your body, exploring and marking every single curve and inch, cooing praises into your ear.

 That’s it, theres my sweet girl. ‘Look so good takin’ all of me like a champ. Want everyone to see how good i treat my princess, when she fucks me so well. Gonna fill you right up, just how you like it. 

Only now, you weren’t being spoiled and made love to like his special girl would. 

You were some filthy little whore, and getting the treatment a bitch in heat deserved the most. A dumb one at that, and all Simon could do is chuckle to himself, shaking his head at how sloppy and stupid you looked. Not even the damn mutts in heat at the base, got silly like you were at this moment. 

“_____ ,” Simon slapped his open palm twice on the side of your cheek, listening to you whine softly before using the same hand to squeeze the sides of your cheeks until your lips puckered out. “_____ , focus right here— that’s it, right here. Listen to me baby, unless you don’t wanna cum tonight, you’re gonna stop wastin’ my time and talk to me nice.”

With what little brain fuzzy cells you had left to help you speak, you nodded and spread your thighs wider so he could see your swollen, glistening pussy and untouched clit. 

“ ’s all yours, Simon. It all belongs to you, so please help me cum. Pleeasse baby, I-I need it so bad.”

That must’ve been what he wanted to hear. 

 Simon plunges right back into the heat of your walls that welcome him in with ease. Only with this new change of position, you get filled in even deeper now. 

No running. You’re trapped and overwhelmed by the heat that radiates off his body, as he uses his heavy weight to fold you in half and press you deep into the creaking mattress. You can see over your tummy, just what he looked like when he battered the insides of your pussy. You’re forced to watch him dig his cock in and out of you. Hiccuping and sobbing at the sight of a creamy translucent ring made of your cum, completely coating the base of his length. 

“That’s right baby,” His heavy balls slap sloppily against your ass. The sounds of your skin clapping together, and his baritone murmuring echo in your ears. “Pussy belongs to me. So you don’t tell me when it’s time to come home and play with it. You wait for me and behave, when I tell you to. Understand?”

You shake your head, not paying attention to a single word he utters. The only thing you can focus on is the way he drops his dick perfectly into the spot you need him the most. 

“Ohh fuck- fuck, fuucckk,” You let out strings of curses, your legs already getting numb from being squeezed down so tightly against your tits. Drool fills your mouth and runs down the side of your lips. You can feel the bubbling sensation in your womb of your orgasm approaching. Your babbling gets sloppier and less coherent, as you feel his dick twitch inside of you. 

“Fuck yeesss, yes S-Simon. ‘Understand, promise I’ll wait and be— oohh… uhuh, right there, b-be good for you. It’s only for Simon. Whatever Simon says, it’s all for you”

“Shit.. that's it. There’s a good girl,” He groans deep from the bottom of his chest at your words, grabbing you by the throat and pulling your head up off the mattress so he can look into your glossy eyes.

Simon pulls his mask up, just enough to where the top of the cupids-bow of his lips starts. He flicks his tongue over the bottom of his lip, before he leans in to press his mouth against your open one. He swallows the wanton moans that come squeaking out your lips, moving his hand up from gripping your throat to cup your jaw. 

“Easy girl,” he mumbles inside the heat of your mouth, feeling your legs start to shake harder now. “Relax, you can take it. Take everythin’ I give to you and let me— shit ‘m close, let me fuckin’ fill you all the way up, princess.”

He reaches between your sweaty bodies to finally give your neglected swollen clit the attention it deserved. He uses the tip of his fat thumb to rub it in circles, grunting when he feels your pussy squeeze around cock. It was as if your body was trying to pull him all the way in, and never let him escape the gushing caverns of your walls. 

Simon removed his hand from your jaw, using his now free hand to press down hard on your soft lower belly. 

You shake your head in resistance, already knowing how messy you were gonna make this if he continued on like this. He must’ve known what you were thinking, shaking his head back at you and having no regard for your little babbles and sobs for mercy. 

“Let it out _____. C’mon, show me what a sweet girl looks like when she knows how to make a mess all over this dick.” 

The little band in your core snaps, and you swear you heard a little pop! from deep inside of you. 

You both feel it before you see it. Lips practically sealed together, and you both let out guttural groans in each other’s mouths at the feeling of your pussy spraying cum and juices everywhere. You made it real messy, drenching Simon’s stomach and splattering your ecstasy on top of the comforter of the bed. 

And at the same time, Simon snatches his lips from yours to let out a long series of curses. You feel his cock twitch violently from the depths of your insides, letting out a soft mewl when you feel the tip painting your walls and shooting out thick ropes of cum.

You nearly black out from the high you get from coming so hard. The whole room seems like it’s spinning, your hearing fades in and out, with static like white noise shrilling into your eardrums. All your senses are heightened, and you feel so overwhelmed by your vision getting blurred and fuzzy, that you decide it’s best to close and rest your eyes.  

Apparently you did end up blacking out. 

Jolting awake and blinking the blurriness from your eyes, you sit up from your position tucked underneath a new comforter set— you can’t even recall how you managed to make yourself comfortable in bed, or how you wound up in a new pair of clean underwear. 

You think you get the answers to your state of confusion, when you see Simon sitting by the edge of the bed with his bare back turned towards you. 

Oh, okay. He must’ve cleaned me up and changed the sheets after I fell asleep. 

Without turning around and facing you, Simon calls for you and tells you to come closer to where he sat. You huff, begrudgingly pulling yourself from the cozy warmth of the cotton blanket and crawl across the bed to where he was. 

“Baby, I’m so hungry” You pout, giving his bare shoulder a soft kiss before you go to roll yourself off the bed. “We should try ordering from that place Soap keeps talking about. I think the menu’s downst—”

“That can wait,” He grabs your wrist and pulls you back onto the bed, it’s so abrupt that you make a squeak of surprise when you tumble back down on your back. “Still got something we have to finish.”

He sees the utterly puzzled look you give him and can tell just how lost you were at this moment. Simon rises from the bed, towering over you and hums at the sight of you looking up at him with wide, expectant doe eyes.  

Since this is the first time he’s actually facing you from the front, you notice he holds a sleek, black handheld camcorder. Where did he get that from ?

Again, Simon reads you like an open book and starts explaining just what he was up to. 

“On my way home, this little thing here caught my eye and reminded me of something,” He turns it over on its side, inspecting it before he presses his thumb down on the power button to turn it on. “Made me think of how I had to leave from where I was at, and missed a vital proposal for work. Set back my plans, all because of the little video you decided to send to me.”

You gulped, already knowing where this conversation was leading to. You can feel a pounding in your core, your underwear starting to stick to your heat from the little bit of excitement that came gushing out of you. 

 “Since you do love your little films, you’re gonna make another one just for me. Somethin’ real nice, and a good reminder for what happens when you think about pullin’ another stunt like today.”

Simon pulls down the band of his grey sweatpants, his hard cock springing up and bobbing back and forth before it curls up against his navel. He sneers at how quick you are to roll off the bed, kneeling on the carpet to get on your knees before him. 

There was no changing or fixing the insatiable little minx that lived inside your body. 

“Now, eyes on me princess,” he aims the camera down at your face, flicking his eyes from your own half lidded ones down to the screen of the camera. “You’re gonna start off with ‘Simon says I’ve been a filthy little slut and been on my worst behavior’. Then, you can show the camera you know how to act like a good girl and apologize.” 

You nod your head, already going dumb from the commands he rasps. When he tilts his head down and lifts a brow up, you give him an audible yes sir and rub your inner thighs together in anticipation for what you’re about to do.

“S-simon says–” you pause, dragging your eyes up from the camera and into Simon's own eyes. 

You are a good girl. And as a good girl should, you made sure you kept your manners in mind, so he knew how sorry you really were. 

“Simon says I've been a filthy lil’ slut, and on my worst behavior,” you lean in close to his cock, looking him in the eye as you plant a slow soft, short kiss on the tip. Greedily licking up the bead of precum that caught onto your lips, feeling the little jump his cock makes against your mouth.

“So ‘m gonna show him I'm a good girl, and apologize like his sweet girl should.”

/tagging\ . . . @touyyes(<3) @noriken @hellavile @munsonsins

[ink-n-shadow]

angel!reader escapes demon!ghosts place and he goes on a whole manhunt please oh please

omg this would definitely take place a day or two after angel was taken down to the Underworld by demon!ghost. like before they get close

[ RUNAWAY ] 𝜗𝜚 the one where angel!reader tries to escape demon!ghost's palace

𝜗𝜚 pairing: broken angel!reader x demon!ghost 𝜗𝜚 cw: angel attempting to escape, demon!ghost chasing after angel, might be slight noncon? (minors—DNI), demon!ghost referring to you as a pet, unedited (as usual) 𝜗𝜚 link to all my works in the demon!ghost au can be found here

you should've known that a demon wasn't really going to help you. the amount of stories and fables you had been told since you were a baby fledgling should've been enough to tell you that demons couldn't be trusted.

and yet here you were, sitting in some swinging gold cage suspended up above what looked to be a seating area of a brooding castle with a still very broken wing. the panic is beginning to course through your veins, making your lungs seize up with each ragged breath you take.

you had to get out of here.

so the next time the demon lowers your cage down onto the floor, leaving the cage door unlocked as he digs through a box of putrid snacks for you to refuse to eat, you make your break for it.

your vision becomes a blur as you whirl through the expansive hallways of whatever palace you're being kept in, wings pulled tight against your body and legs pumping to carry you as quickly as they can.

the demon's following behind you at a leisurely pace, chuckling lowly as he calls out, "ya won't get very far, little fledgling."

and the demon is right. the palace is sprawling, multiple hallways and foyers of doors that seemingly lead nowhere. you're running in circles, tugging on locked handles and banging on windows that seemingly have no latches to even pull them open.

you eventually find a door to the outside world of Hell, scrambling across burnt ashy ground as you claw your way across what you can only hope is the front yard. until you find yourself running through an intricate labyrinth, shrubs of thorny rose bushes and hollyhocks forcing you to stay on a path you could only hope would lead to the exit.

your lungs are burning on Hell's air, eyes stinging from the ash and soot being kicked up by your quick feet. your wings are bristling, tucked close to your body as if to cocoon yourself away from the outside elements.

you don't even know how long you've been running circles in this labyrinth until the exhaustion suddenly catches up to you, limbs turning to molasses and your heaving breaths morphing into wallowing sobs and whimpers. you catch your collapsing body on a marbled statue in the middle of the labyrinth, choking on a sob as you slowly crumble into a pile of twitching muscles and ash.

when the demon eventually catches up to you, you're too burnt out to even try and fight against his clawed hands as he scoops you up into his arms with ease, wiping at the ash and soot slicking your sweaty skin. his fork tongue clicks against his teeth, mixing with a grumbled chuckle as he begins walking back through the labyrinth with practiced ease.

"tried to tell you, didn't i?" the demon murmurs softly, smoothing the unruly hairs in front of your eyes with the fat of his thumb. "ya won't get away from me—i caught you fair 'n fuckin' square. s'okay though, i'll take good care of ya. just might have to make you keep you leashed."

[werecreature-addicted]

It’s always been a fantasy of mine to be poly w/ multiple vampire partners (like dracula & his brides, but doesn’t even have to be dracula specifically). Just imagining being the next human they bring home to toy with and feed off before eventually turning <3 anyways love your blog!!

Imagine showing up on the doorstep of a large gothic castle, pathetic, sopping wet from the raging storm that caught you off guard. the place is clearly haunted, or at the very least, creepy as hell, but you have no other choice, nowhere else to go.

You're surprised when the man of the house opens the door for you instead of a butter or maid, but he invites you in to spend the night in his home with all the warmth and charm of a snake. You know something's wrong, you know you're a foolish little mouse, but what other choice do you have?

He insists you strip out of your wet clothes to let them dry and lets you warm up by the fire, he doesn't give you anything dry to change into so you awkwardly stand naked in front of the roaring fire, drying your hair and debating if it would be rude to rip down one of the grand tapestries to wrap around yourself when you hear a squeal of delight, you whirl around but no one's there.

Then, in a flash, there are three someone standing in the doorway to the room you're in, three beautiful women, all with ashy skin and blood-red eyes that stare at you hungrily. More snakes to come flick their forked tongues at the frightened mouse.

"Oh, you were telling the truth- a new toy to play with," one says.

"Told you, a pretty little thing all naked and ready for us, just waiting to be ripped apart," another says, clapping her hands together excitedly.

"Master didn't tell us about this one, maybe he wants them for himself, perhaps it would be wise to ask for permission," the third ponders. There is a flash of lightning through a nearby window momentarily blinding you, when your vision returns the man who let you in is there smiling.

"no my deers, go right ahead, have your fun," he insists, as if he'd been listening to the conversation the whole time. The three women pounce on you, even though they might appear frail and petite they are strong, much stronger than a pathetic little thing like you.

For the most part, the man of the house watches as his wives have their way with you, but the second blood is spilled he's on you too, taking his turn to break in the new toy. Even with four vampires biting and drinking from you, they won't kill you, that would spoil the fun after all and who knows. it might be more fun to keep you around for a long long, time

[shootingstarwritings]

Body-a-Day #1: Smoke

There existed a certain forbidden ritual allowed mortals to open up a portal to Hell and use its unholy flames to burn one particular target. The flames of Hell were unique, being much harder to douse than a normal inferno. This quality assured the caster that their target would be eliminated. But opening up a portal to Hell was a price that nobody could pay the cost.

On a certain day in a certain city, a particularly bold businessman who happened to be an amateur mage had used such a ritual to set the home of a rival co-worker ablaze. While the home itself had been miraculously empty at the time, firefighters still struggled to combat the otherworldly fire. After a horrifying hour of hard work and exhaustion with little progress made, the flames almost seemed to… give up.

While some believed that a miracle had happened, it couldn’t be further from the truth. A demon, Asmodeus, had slipped through the crack between the realms and commanded the flames to surrender. He needed the firefighters to end it quickly and raise any suspicion.

With the flames finally put out, a few firefighters inspected the razed remains of the home to see what could be salvaged. One of them, a volunteer by the name of Hank Sutherland, walked just the tiniest bit away from his fellow firefighters. Asmodeus had his target, now he just needed to take him.

~o~

A cold chill ran up Hank’s spine as he looked around. It felt as though something was watching him. Nervous, he called out, “H-Hello…?” Yet his only response was a column of smoke rising from beneath the burst wreckage and forcing itself into his mouth. “MMRGH! MMM…!” Hank gasped and choked as the demon flowed inside of him, filling his lungs and effectively silencing his cries from the ears of the other firefighters.

Strength failing, Hank fell backwards as the last of Asmodeus’ smoky essence filled his body. He groaned and writhed on the ashy floor before his eyes turned the same shady of darkened gray as Asmodeus. Then, his body grew stiff and he fell unconscious.

Hank awoke to an unfamiliar white ceiling and several cables attached to him. Cleared from duty for the rest of the week to rest, Hank eventually made his way back to his apartment. As soon as front door shut, Asmodeus groaned and cracked his neck. He let out a guttural groan as he adjusted himself properly inside his new flesh—as though he was stretching out a new pair of shoes.

Hands ran up against the man chest and stomach as the new Hank moaned as he experienced the pleasures of the flesh. He walked over to the bathroom with a swagger than the real Hank never had.

“Now then,” he said to his own reflection. “Let’s find the mortal who summoned me here. I haven’t eaten a soul in what feels like centuries.” Hank bellowed in laughter as a new playground was now in his grasp.

[megalony]

Resemblance- Part 5

Thank you all for the lovely feedback on this Evan Buckley series, I hope you will all like this next part. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

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@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost

Series Taglist: @lunaroserites @swanshells @moonlovers34 @bartkevicius03 @btskzfav @papafritarancia @shortchubbybibi @essienoe

Series Masterlist

Summary: When Evan introduces (Y/n) to Eddie, she resembles someone he used to know. And he can't help himself when he's around her, leading to frightening behaviour.

Enjoy.

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

Evan's hand gripped the gear stick so tightly he was about to rip it out of place. He shifted up into a higher gear, revving the engine as he moved into the outside lane and sped past the only other two cars on the road this late at night. He hoped no police would be out on patrol to catch him speeding, but he did have a good excuse if they did.

He had to get home. He had to find out what the Hell Eddie was up to and what he was doing round at his place.

"Buck? What's going on, are you okay?"

Maddie's voice flooded the car and snapped Evan out of his trance. He felt bad for calling her. She had been on shift all day and she had Jee to look after when she went home and here was Evan, ringing her at midnight, something he never did unless it was an emergency.

"I'm on my way home… Eddie's gone off the rails."

"What do you mean?"

"He's let himself into my place, Maddie. (Y/n)'s home alone and he's gone round there and I have no fucking clue what he's doing. I tried to call her and- I don't know what was happening but, but Eddie cut me off. Bobby's gonna meet me there. I don't know what Eddie's gonna do."

For the second time in less than half an hour, Evan brushed away stray tears that were falling freely down his face.

He couldn't speak to (Y/n) when he tried to call her, but he heard the utter fright in her voice and he knew she had been crying. And he just knew when the call hung up on him that it had been Eddie.

But he didn't know what was happening back at home. Evan didn't know if Eddie had hurt (Y/n). He had no idea if Eddie would physically hurt her but Evan had a horrid feeling in his gut that Eddie had done something. Whatever he was doing, Evan had to get home to stop him. He couldn't be left alone with (Y/n) and something must have set him off for him to go round in the middle of the night and let himself into Evan and (Y/n)'s apartment.

"Oh God, Buck. You don't… you don't think he'd actually hurt her, do you? He never hurt Shannon."

Evan didn't have the answer to that because he truly didn't know what his best friend was capable of anymore. He had no idea if Eddie would hurt (Y/n) to punish her or to punish Evan. He didn't know if Eddie would hurt her by mistake or how far over the line he would go tonight.

"I don't know."

He had never hurt Shannon. Eddie prided himself on trying to be a good person, a moral, loving, kind man. He worshipped the ground Shannon walked on and he would never dream of hurting her. But this wasn't Shannon, this was (Y/n) and if Eddie's delusion broke, who was to say that he wouldn't hurt (Y/n)?

"Do you want me to come over?"

"No, no it's okay, Bobby should be there by now and I'm almost home."

He wasn't quite sure why he rang Maddie. He had woken her up in the middle of the night and frightened her and he knew his big sister wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep now. She would stay awake fretting and worrying until Evan or Bobby called her to update her and let her know what was happening. Evan had just started a domino effect of panic for his sister and brother in law and the rest of the team when they eventually found out what was happening.

But he couldn't help himself. He couldn't drive home in silence and Bobby wasn't answering.

He had called the station to get hold of Evan and when Evan rang him, it had been a short and panicked phone call. Bobby said he was dressed and heading down to Evan's apartment and that Evan needed to meet him there as soon as possible.

But Evan didn't want to sit and stew on this in the car ride home, alone. He wanted to talk and the first person that came to mind was Maddie.

"Okay… call me when you know what's happening, and Buck, you need to be careful. He's going to crash hard when he realises Shannon is gone and (Y/n) can't give him that second chance he wants."

Evan croaked a quiet "Okay," before he hung up and focused on turning the next corner towards the apartment block. He dragged his hand up and down his face and pulled into his designated parking space.

He had no idea what state of mind Eddie was going to be in. Did he believe (Y/n) was truly Shannon? Did he know she was never going to be his wife? Was he under the impression that (Y/n) could somehow save him or redeem him or give him the closure he so desperately wanted? What was he trying to do?

Evan pulled up and jumped out the jeep, scrambling to shove his phone in his pocket and lock the jeep while he pelted across the grass towards the main door.

Relief couldn't have overtaken Evan sooner when he realised Bobby and Athena were hurrying up the path too.

They looked disshevelled. Bobby's short hair was stuck up on end and in frantic directions. Panic was written across his face and pooling in his eyes. His shirt was on inside out and his belt wasn't done up tight enough, leaving his jeans to sag on his hips and jiggle up and down as he speed walked towards the main door.

Athena had tamed her hair as much as she could in the car on the way over. She was wearing a vest tucked into an old pair of jeans, trainers instead of her usual high heels. She had a thin jacket pulled tight around her shoulders but what frightened Evan was her gun and badge he could see attached to her hip.

She was here on duty. She had woken up and come along in case she needed to arrest Eddie.

Was she going to have to arrest him? Was Eddie going to be in such a state that he needed to be taken into custody? Was he going to hurt one of them and land himself in jail for the night? Would he need to be sedated or taken down to the hospital for a psyche hold?

Oh God, when was this night going to end? How was it going to end?

"Buck," Understanding flooded Athena's voice as she sighed his name and reached a tender hand out to squeeze his bicep.

"Have you managed to get hold of either of them?" Bobby placed his hands on his hips and waited for Evan to fish out his keys and unlock the main door. He had a strong feeling that Evan hadn't gotten hold of Eddie or (Y/n). Bobby hadn't called (Y/n) back when she hung up on him.

He took that as a sign that Eddie was approaching her and Bobby didn't want to call her and set Eddie off into a raging episode. But once he and Athena got in the car, Bobby tried again to call her, but the phone just kept ringing and ringing and no one answered.

Evan shook his head and held the door open for them to follow after him. He called (Y/n) four times in a row after he got cut off, and she didn't answer. He tried calling Eddie but as expected, he didn't pick up either.

"Do either of you know what he's doing here?" Athena followed them both up the stairs as Evan took them two steps at a time and Bobby tried to keep up with Evan's pace.

"(Y/n) said he let himself in, she didn't say what he wanted or what he was doing."

"I told him to stay away from her… I told him I didn't trust him, and he laughed." Evan shook his head at the memory.

The last time he spoke to Eddie properly after their fight, he told him to stay the Hell away from (Y/n). He said he didn't trust Eddie around her after what he said at the station and what he did when he came round last time. And Eddie laughed at him. He laughed as if he didn't believe what he was hearing or as if he was taking this as some sort of personal challenge.

Maybe it hadn't been the right thing to say. Maybe Evan should have told Eddie that he needed to keep at a distance for a little while. Put it in kinder terms so he didn't isolate Eddie or make him feel broken and unheard.

But Evan had no idea what Eddie thought he was doing tonight or what his aim was.

Had he come round tonight with the intention of hurting (Y/n) to get back at Evan? Was he trying to get her to go somewhere with him so they could be together? Did he want to talk to her and try to move past this? Or was he there because he wanted to delve into this fantasy of her being Shannon? Was he trying to mould her into his wife and keep her for himself?

Evan hopped up the stairs two at a time until he got to the fourth floor and he was out of breath. He slowed down his steps so they didn't thunder down the hall and his hands began to shake at his sides, rattling his keys back and forth as he approached his home.

Was it even going to feel like home after he walked inside and finally found out what was going on in there?

Tears welled up in Evan's eyes and he suddenly didn't know how to breathe when he tried to get his key in the lock, but it wouldn't turn.

"He- he's left the key in the lock. We're gonna have to break it."

***

Small, shuddering breaths slipped past (Y/n)'s lips and her eyes snapped closed when she felt Eddie's lips against the side of her neck.

She could feel him whispering something into her skin, leaving hot, panting kisses in his wake as he kept tilting his head up and down. Every now and then, his nose would brush against the tip of her jaw and across the bottom of her ear before he kissed down towards her collar bone.

He was still crying. Silent, sticky tears soaked into (Y/n)'s cheek and neck which was already wet from his lips and felt like it was bruised from how frequently Eddie kept nudging his chin into her neck. And every so often she felt his teeth grazing her skin when his unrecognisable words became desperate.

She managed to make out another "I love you," panted against her skin before he bared his teeth and sank them into her neck like a vampire, causing her body to quake in his arms.

She couldn't help but dig her nails into his arm that pinned tighter into her throat that was bruised while her windpipe was surely going to be crushed if he continued to hold her like this for much longer.

His knees were jabbing into her legs and his thighs were tensing and squeezing her upper thighs that were going numb with pins and needles.

Her back was aching from rocking back and forth so much but Eddie's arm around her stomach was imbedding more and more into her skin and she knew if he didn't stop, she was going to pass out or be sick. But he wouldn't let her go and no amount of pain would make him release her.

She bit his hand upstairs and he barely flinched. She scratched his arms and he wouldn't budge an inch. She tried pushing and writhing and tearing out of his arms and he held her tighter and screamed until she started to shake and gave up fighting.

"I feel sick," She whimpered, scratching her nails into his arm as she pushed back into his chest. "Please let go now."

"No." That one word word passed through Eddie's lips on a loop, again and again until he was screaming and (Y/n) sobbed loudly in response. She could barely catch a proper breath and when Eddie started to growl, (Y/n) did the only thing she could think of.

She thrust her head to the right and bashed the side of her head into Eddie's temple.

Her head rebounded to the left and she closed her eyes, feeling her breath get caught up in her lungs as static built up in her ears and her mind started to reset itself.

She heard Eddie's horrific howl as his head snapped back and his arms momentairely loosened around her.

(Y/n) took that as her moment. With her eyes still tightly closed and her body being shifted around in Eddie's arms, she pulled away from him.

Her nails scratched the floor and her hands scraped against the laminate as her knees thudded and banged against the floor to try and heave herself up. Her head felt cloudy and full of cotton wool, her stomach was churning, her throat was raw and her eyes were as sore as they had ever been from crying so much.

She couldn't get her legs to work and there didn't seem to be much point in trying to stand up. She shuffled, crawled and flopped across the floor, aiming for the bathroom or the front door, whichever she could reach first.

Her hand locked around the bathroom door but she stopped when a familiar voice caught her off guard.

"(Y/n)? Eddie? What's going on in there, can you let me in please?"

Bobby.

He was here. He had done as (Y/n) asked and come to help her, he was going to sort this situation out.

He was going to come in and get Eddie away from (Y/n) and help her work out the best way to help Eddie and sort this out. Bobby would be able to talk some sense into Eddie and show him that what he was doing wasn't right. Eddie would listen to him. Hopefully.

Her momentary pause gave Eddie enough time to grab her before she reached the bathroom.

Before she knew what was happening, Eddie's arms were around her waist and her back was pinned up against his chest. She stayed stiff in his arms, not bothering to fight because it wasn't going to do any good. The tears Eddie had been shedding earlier were all but gone now and he was back to kissing her cheek and her temple, almost lifting her off her feet with his force and strength.

"Eddie, c-can we let him in?" (Y/n) clenched her hands around Eddie's arms but she could feel the panic radiating off of Eddie.

He didn't know what to do.

They were so close to the front door, less than five feet away. All they had to do was walk over, unlock the door and remove the chain. Then Bobby could come inside and they could try and diffuse this situation.

But letting Bobby in would break the fantasy Eddie was trying so hard to keep hold of. He had Shannon in his arms and if he opened that door, Bobby would snatch her away from him. Forever.

"No."

(Y/n) all but whimpered, sniffing as she leaned her head back on Eddie's shoulder but it seemed to be the wrong move to make when he kissed her cheek. Then again. And again before he was suddenly kissing her lips and sliding his tongue into her mouth.

He turned her round in his arms and backed her up into the wall beside the bathroom, halfway between the bathroom door and the front door. So close to two ways of escape, but she couldn't reach either of them.

Her shoulders wriggled against the wall and her fingers scrunched up in Eddie's shirt. Her heels scraped against the floor, trying to keep herself upright but she could barely put any weight on her left ankle that kept giving out beneath her.

It didn't matter about keeping herself upright, Eddie did that for her. His hands clamped down on her hips so fiercely (Y/n) felt like she was going to pop like a berry. He released her lips and left a speck of blood in the corner of her mouth from where he bit down harshly on her lower lip.

Eddie tucked his face into the crook of her neck and breathed harshly into her skin, pressing his groin into hers and pinning his chest down on her collar bone, pinning her in place.

"Eddie, what's going on in there. Are you both okay?" Bobby's calm, solemn voice flooded the apartment again along with a soft knock on the door to gain their attention.

"Leave. I don't want your fucking help."

"I can't do that, not until you let me in and I know everything's okay."

Bobby could feel Evan pushing against his shoulders, trying to get past him but he couldn't. Not when Bobby was stood with both hands on the door frame, blocking it off from Evan who had Athena holding his arms to try and comfort him and keep him at bay.

They didn't want to break down the door, not unless it was their only option, their last resort. Breaking the door would be a lot of effort when it had two locks and a security chain and it would cause their biggest problem.

The police.

If they broke the door, Evan's neighbours would surely find out what was going on and they would call the police. Athena was here as a friend, as family and a curtesy so she could try and diffuse the situation. Calling the police and making an official report and arrest would cause problems for all of them. They didn't want to arrest Eddie, he needed help, not being taken to the station and questioned or charged.

"You'll take her away from me!" Eddie's voice barked through the corridor and none of them recognised him anymore.

The pain, aggravation and turmoil was clear in his words. He was frightened that this was the last time he was going to be around (Y/n) because he knew once they got in here, they would separate her from him.

He wouldn't be able to see her anymore. He wouldn't look into those eyes that he loved so much. He wouldn't be able to kiss those sugary lips or hold her close or hear her heartbeat and know that Shannon was here, that she was back. Eddie wouldn't be able to get her to forgive him and he wouldn't be able to hear her say she was sorry or explain why she had left him all those years ago.

He wanted an explanation. Eddie wanted to know why. He wanted her to come back. He wanted to take her home and have the family they built together.

Bobby nodded his head when he felt Evan hit his shoulder and ask if (Y/n) was okay. They hadn't heard her speak. They couldn't hear anything in the apartment right now. Was she still there? Was she okay? Was she hurt?

"Eddie, the last thing I want to do is take her from you. Can you tell me if she's okay?"

"I- I'm okay." (Y/n) could hear the tremor in her voice and she gasped when Eddie slid his hand up from her hip to hold the back of her neck. His fingers dug into her skin, scratching until blood was welling beneath his nails and he had (Y/n)'s head tilted back against the wall.

"That's good. Can I come in? Eddie, we can talk this through and work out what to do from here but I need you to open the door for me. I'm not going to take (Y/n) away, she can stay with us-"

"No. Y-you're not doing this… just let me take Shannon home." The way he sobbed into (Y/n)'s neck had her shivering and almost sliding down the wall if it wasn't for his tight hold on her.

She didn't want to go anywhere with Eddie.

She just wanted him to let go and leave her alone. Why couldn't he seek help? Why couldn't he let his family help him? Why did he have to do this in his own twisted way and make things worse?

Why did she have to resemble his dead wife so much?

"Come home. Let me take you home."

When (Y/n) silently shook her head, her lips curved down at the corners and tears spilled over her eyes. She could see the change happening in Eddie again. She could see that manic look taking over his pupils that were expanding until his eyes were nothing but black holes, devouring everything in their path. Absorbing every emotion (Y/n) had and taking it for himself.

His upper lip curled into a snarl and his hand left her hip so his knuckles could smash into the wall beside her head, creating a dent in the plaster.

(Y/n) cowered to the left, hunching her shoulders up as she snapped her eyes closed and moved her hands near her face. A sob bubbled past her lips when both his hands moved to grab her face.

The pads of his fingers were rough. The heel of his palms pressed bruisingly into her cheeks. His fingers dug into the sides of her jaw. He squashed her lips like he was trying to make her pout and when she tried to look away, he shook her head and forced her to look up at him.

The way his eyes narrowed and how his lips parted made (Y/n) tremor because he looked at her like she was an enigma he just couldn't work out. She was the embodiement of a Rubix cube. A real life puzzle with all the pieces slotted into place, but Eddie couldn't work out what the picture was supposed to be.

He was looking at his wife, but she was staring back at him like she thought he was the devil in disguise.

He leaned to the right, then to the left, following (Y/n)'s gaze until she had no choice but to stare at him. And he leaned closer, nudging their noses together and brushing his lips teasingly across hers. Their tears mixed together on their lips, the salty, tangy taste felt like the embodiment of sorrow itself and made (Y/n) whimper.

She clutched at his wrists but Eddie kissed her again, sucking her lower lip between his and tugging on it and biting like it was a sweet he wanted to demolish.

"Come. Home."

"I am home."

What good would it do her to go along with Eddie's delusion? If she went with him back to his place, what next? Would she ever leave? Would he try and make her stay? What would happen if Chris found out what he was doing? This would traumatise him and he didn't need or deserve that.

(Y/n) couldn't play along with this game because Eddie was becoming dangerous and it wasn't safe. She needed Bobby to get in here and get Eddie away from her.

"You're my wife!" Eddie's voice crashed through the apartment as he thrust (Y/n)'s head back into the wall like he was trying to drill his words into her skull. His knee jabbed between her thighs and pinned against the wall, parting her thighs around him while he pressed his groin against her leg and pushed all his weight onto her chest until she was gasping and croaking.

"Eddie, what are you doing? Please, you need to stop-"

"She's mine." Such a possessive growl emitted from the back of Eddie's throat and it had (Y/n)'s knees buckling and sent her stomach up into her throat.

It was clear that something had changed now. Eddie knew Evan was outside, he had just heard his voice. He felt like Evan had stolen his wife and now here he was trying to do it again. Well, Eddie wouldn't let him. He wouldn't let Evan take his world away and ruin what was left of his life.

(Y/n) felt her head cloud over and her vision turned to water colours when Eddie kissed her with so much force that he slammed her head back into the wall. Again.

Her hands let go of his wrists and fumbled around her to grab for something, anything to hold her up or use as a weapon against Eddie. But all she managed to grab was his shoulders that stopped her from sliding down to the floor, and her touch only spurred him on even more.

His hands let go of her head that swayed from left to right, sliding against the wall as her neck ached, too floppy to hold her head up any longer.

A spark of adrenaline rebooted her brain when she suddenly felt Eddie's hands on her thighs.

His touch was hasty, his fingers were rough and his movements sloppy but he managed to rake her shirt up her stomach, exposing her underwear.

"No! Stop- stop it!"

All of her effort went into leaning forward and creasing over to try and make Eddie's movements halt. Her thighs pinned together, her knees bent out and her hands slapped and thrust at Eddie's wrists and when she felt him scrunch up her shirt near her hip, she knew the material started to tear.

She heard the unmistakeable sound of seams splitting apart and the cotton stretched until it started to tear.

Her scream overrided the tearing sound and her knee smashed into Eddie's groin when she was sure his other hand was about to paw at her underwear. Whatever he was about to do- something Evan would never be able to forgive him for- he had to stop. He couldn't do this. (Y/n) couldn't let him do this.

She knew she heard Evan scream in response to hers. His voice sounded so shrill and deep and broken and it made (Y/n) cringe. He didn't even know what was happening and there he was, pounding on the door he was trying to break so he could get to her.

(Y/n)'s legs started to twist and cave beneath her while her hands balled into fists and she slammed them down onto Eddie's shoulders and into his neck, desperate to make him stop.

"Eddie you need to stop whatever you're doing. We're coming in!" The panic was undeniable in Bobby's voice as he and Evan tried to kick the door to break the locks. They couldn't stand and negotiate any longer, they had to get in there before something happened, if it wasn't already.

The little bit of momentum (Y/n) had managed to push Eddie backwards so (Y/n) was no longer pinned to the wall.

But she couldn't hold herself upright when her ankle kept cockling and giving way on her and she was shaking so much that she didn't seem to have any control left over her own body.

Her eyes closed on instinct when Eddie's hand squeezed her waist and his dingers dug into her back so harshly he was going to give her bruises and blood wheels beneath her skin. His other hand gripped her jaw that clicked into place when he pulled her head roughly in his direction and caused tears to flood down (Y/n)'s face.

They were like magnets, pushing and pulling, propelling each other in different directions. And when (Y/n) screamed, Eddie reciprocated and yelled back at her.

"Evan! Evan p-please-"

"Why don't you love me anymore?!"

She couldn't tell whether Eddie was shouting at her or if his words just seemed volumous in her ears because of how close his lips were to hers. Maybe he was crying. Maybe anger was present in his eyes. Maybe he was shaking her head from side to side or maybe she was simply shaking her head in response to his words. (Y/n) didn't know anymore.

All she did know was that when Eddie pushed her, the wall was no longer behind her to catch her fall.

They had moved without knowing it. They had push and pulled each other in different ways and now they were falling.

Why did the bathroom door have to be made of frosted glass?

Why couldn't it have been solid wood or plastic or even metal? Why glass? Why something so easily broken and so easily turned into a weapon when broken?

(Y/n) didn't realise they had been falling hard enough to crash into the door, but their combined force and weight smashed right through the glass panes and took out the small wooden beams supporting the panes. Glass licked and nipped at her back and arms, but it seemed to bite into the back of her left thigh so venomously that it almost felt like Eddie had sank his teeth into her flesh.

His full weight slammed into her as they both screamed until they were breathless. Landing on a cushion of glass, broken wood, splinters and a freezing cold tiled floor.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what her head slammed into. She wasn't even sure when her body had turned sideways, but either the sink or the toilet- possibly the bathtub if she had turned that much without realising- smashed into her temple on the way down.

Static danced through her ears and turned her brain to mush. Everything switched off.

***

"Eddie what the fuck was that? What are you doing?!"

She had been crying out for him. Evan heard her. He heard his name tear past (Y/n)'s lips before Eddie began screaming. He heard (Y/n) screaming and he had no idea why, but he had a feeling he knew what Eddie was trying to do behind that door.

And he wanted it to stop. Now.

Both Evan's boot and Bobby's shoulder rammed into the door for a third time before it finally swing open. The chain hung loose on a broken bracket, the door groaned as it opened to allow them inside. And the doorframe was split into fragments right in the middle with the metal lock cylinder hanging on by one screw.

Evan didn't waste a second. He bolted past the door, his eyes wild ad rabid, pupils blown wide as he tried to find them.

They had been close. He heard them screaming, he could almost hear Eddie panting and (Y/n) crying and hear them banging on the walls. They couldn't have been in the living room or upstairs. They had to be in the kitchen or near the hallway for Evan to hear them so clearly.

And something had definitely broken. Such a loud crash echoed out into the hall when he and Bobby started to break the door. It sounded like glass. Had Eddie thrown a vase? Had (Y/n) found a glass or a jug or a ceramic bowl to crash over Eddie's head to subdue him? What had they been doing?

When his eyes landed on the glass littering the floor in front of the kitchen, Evan's blood ran cold. His head turned to the left so fast a muscle in his neck twinged and he was sure he had just gotten whiplash.

Legs. He could see a tangled web of limbs sticking out the bathroom doorway. Oh God. What had Eddie done?

Bobby almost pushed past him until Evan's legs finally got back into working order and his work boots stomped over the glass that crunched beneath his thick heels. He reached the bathroom doorway a split second before Bobby and Evan hated the sight in front of him.

Eddie. Laid on top of (Y/n). Their legs tangled together, his head in the crook of her neck. His lips visibly attached to the side of her neck. One hand cupping her jaw while the other planted down on the floor so he could try and lift himself up.

"Get the Hell off her!"

His hands scrunched around Eddie's shoulders with enough force to dislocate the joints and in one motion, he lifted him up. He felt Bobby hovering beside him, both of them wedging their tall frames inside the bathroom to try and lift Eddie who was laid on top of (Y/n).

Groans and coughs tumbled past Eddie's lips when they heaved him up and dragged him out of the bathroom, two feet away from the doorway where he was safe from the broken glass. A safe distance away from (Y/n).

But once Eddie was sat on the floor, his body slanted back at an angle into Bobby's legs, he seemed to come alive. His hands were moving in front of him, his legs were kicking and he was doing his best to push forward. He didn't care about the blood trickling down his right arm from a deep cut in his elbow. He didn't care about the glass littering his hair like glitter or the cut to his brow or the slash marks in his jeans.

"Shannon!"

"Shut up!" Evan pointed at him with a dangerous look in his eyes and his whole arm trembling from his shoulder down to his fingertip.

He gave Bobby an uncertain look with the devil swirling around in his eyes and Hell's fury bubbling through his blood. He could see Bobby was holding Eddie down, keeping him sat on the floor with both arms under Eddie's armpits to hold him at bay.

"This is Athena Grant, off duty, batch 1275, I need an ambulance to my location, apartment 4B. There's been a domestic, we have two injured needing medical assistance."

Athena had no choice. They needed an ambulance here because she could see (Y/n) wasn't moving. There was no twitch in her foot or jolt of her legs. She wasn't moving her arms or trying to sit herself up. Her head wasn't turning from side to side and no noises were passing through her lips. She was unconscious, surrounded in glass. She needed help.

The least Athena could do was call an ambulance, and the most she could do was try to play this incident off as a domestic situation that didn't need police back up. She could spin a lie, assure dispatch that this wasn't a fight or domestic violence and say someone's night had just gone a little wrong.

She wouldn't arrest Eddie when he needed to see a doctor and she wouldn't try and get any other officers involved. Not unless Bobby and Evan explicitly told her they wanted Eddie charged. Both men had told her on the way here that they didn't want to call the police.

They knew arresting Eddie wasn't going to get him the help he needed and they all had Chris to think about. If anything happened to Eddie, Evan was the one who would be looking after Chris and he could hardly do that if he was the one to call and get Eddie arrested in the first place.

"Baby? Baby please…" Evan crouched down beside (Y/n) and took the time to look her over.

Cuts were dotted up and down her exposed skin from all the glass, but Evan knew he could see a few patches bruising into her skin from where Eddie had clearly grabbed and manhandled her.

He pressed his fingertips to her neck, counting her pulse that was uneven and quite high. But it was there and she was breathing. That was all he needed to feel right now.

A growl tore at the back of his throat when he looked down at what she was wearing.

Why was her shirt ripped down the side near her hip? Why was it bunched up on top of her hips? Why was the collar hanging down over one shoulder in a way that wouldn't happen just by falling through a door?

Why was her underwear skewed and partially pulled down?

A shudder tore down Evan's spine at the thought and he tried to brush it from his mind. If he continued on that train of thought he was either going to explode or commit murder on his best friend.

He could feel his nose scrunching up and his lips curling into a grimace when he looked at (Y/n)'s face. She was out cold, but she had blood smeared all around her nose and mouth. She'd bashed her head at some point and given herself a nose bleed.

His eyes travelled south again and he looked down at her left leg that was pressed against his knees. There was a puddle of blood beneath her thigh.

His cold fingertips were delicate and soft when he gripped her knee and slowly lifted her leg up to try and see the damage. A chunk of glass had sliced down the back of her thigh towards the groove at the back of her knee and it was bleeding out fast.

"Fuck."

His hands fumbled for one of the towels from the towel rail on the wall and he wrapped the navy blue cotton as tightly around her leg as he could before he sank back on his heels. His bloodied fingertips moved to his belt and he made quick work of unbuckling it and snapping it free from the loops on his trousers.

Once it was out, Evan carefully looped the belt around (Y/n)'s thigh, just two or three inches down from her hip near her underwear. He was suddenly glad she was unconscious so she wouldn't have to feel or acknowledge that he was cutting off her blood supply with his belt.

"There we go," He whispered softly as he lowered her leg back down to the floor, trying to avoid the glass as much as he could so he didn't give her any further cuts to her skin.

"Shannon! Get the fuck off me! Let me help her-"

"Eddie shut up or I swear I'm gonna deck you-"

"Enough!"

Athena's voice cut through the air as she moved to stand in the doorway to the bathroom. But before she could say anything else, all their eyes were going back to (Y/n) and Eddie was writhing in Bobby's arms to try and see what was going on.

She was coughing- no, she was choking.

"Athena," Terror pulsed through Evan's voice as he looked up at her before he crouched down to be level with (Y/n).

His hands cupped her bloodied face to try and see the problem. Her lips were parted but she was gasping and spluttering. Droplets of blood coated the back of her teeth and welled up on her tongue as her chest began to convulse and push up from the floor.

"She's aspirating! Move her- Shannon please," Eddie writhed until he was laid forward on his chest with his hands scraping the laminate to try and drag himself across the glass towards the bathroom.

She was still bleeding from her nose and the blood was trickling down the back of her throat. She was unconscious and inhaling the blood into her lungs, if it carried on she was going to drown and choke on her own blood.

Athena moved to kneel against the bathtub so she was behind (Y/n). "Okay honey, okay." Her voice was soft and lulling as she cupped the back of (Y/n)'s neck and held her hip while Evan helped to turn her on her side.

They kept her on her left side so she was facing Evan and Athena pushed her head down as much as she could so the blood would flow out her nose and down onto the floor. They couldn't have her choking like this.

"Shannon!"

"Out! Get him out or I'll kill him!" Whatever Evan's hand curled around first, which happened to be a lump of wood broken from the door, he launched it out into the hall. He threw it like a javelin until it smacked into Eddie's chest, but it didn't impact him or even make him wince.

If he continued calling out for his dead wife, Evan was going to let Hell loose on him and ravage him. He would give Eddie as bad a nosebleed as he had given (Y/n) and he wouldn't feel bad about it afterwards.

Eddie needed to leave before he made things any worse. But as Bobby tried to lift him up and drag him out, he kicked his feet. He raged, thrusting his elbows back, slamming his legs down, pushing forward. He did anything he could to try and get into that bathroom.

He wanted her. He wanted Shannon. She was his. Evan couldn't have her this time.

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ sidekicking at dynamight's agency turns out to be more rewarding than anticipated.

cw // age gap (mid 20s & early 40s), mentions of divorce & a child, suggestive, not proof read ⇢  k.bakugo masterlist

You’re a new sidekick at Bakugo’s agency, a mid-20 something who transferred from another prefecture after moving across the country. He’s in his early 40s, a well seasoned pro hero with plenty of experience under his belt and a successful agency to top off his accomplishments.

Unfortunately, he’s divorced with a kid that his ex-wife hoards from him. Sometimes, his son comes by the agency after school if his mom doesn’t show to get him - one of his assistants walks him home if he’s not in the office himself. It’s a messy situation that everyone chooses not to question him about, including the media. All it took was one stupid pap to ask him about his failed marriage to scare the ever loving shit out of anyone from asking again.

He’s not looking for anything or anyone, hasn’t been on a date in years, avoiding anything to do with “love” by busying himself with work, trying not let any of the dread sink in. His heart is too broken from the divorce and all the shit he went through with his devil of an ex-wife. It often kept him awake at night, adding to the bags under his eyes and the silver highlights in his ashy mane.

And then, there’s you. You’re a firecracker in disguise, passionate and determined to be the best damn hero at the agency. One day, you’re training in the office gym with the other sidekicks and become frustrated with them, unsatisfied with their bland routine. You wanted a challenge when training, something to keep you progressing and not plateauing. Stomping up to Bakugo’s office in the middle of the day, you bang on the door a few times impatiently, hands on your hips when he finally opens the door.

“Newbie? The hell do you want?” He grumbles, crossing his arms over the broadness of his chest. Even in his early 40s, he looks damn good, the perfect buff dad body. It may be littered with scars and stretch marks from weight fluctuation over the years, but he viewed them as badges of honor.

“The sidekicks downstairs are boring with training and I need something better. I’m not gonna stay stagnant with those rookies. I need a better trainer.”

Bakugo glares daggers at you, for both insulting the other sidekicks and interrupting his focus on the stacks of paperwork sitting on his desk.

“So you decided complain’ to the boss that provides the training was the smart thing to do?”

You huff, rolling your eyes and take a step closer to him. “No, Dynamight. I want you to train me. I need the best of the best to be an asset to your agency.”

The way you emphasize ‘I want you’ makes him flinch - a phrase he hasn’t heard in years.

“Ya think I have time to train with a sidekick?” He scoffs, ready to shut the door on you when you grab his wrist, making him jump from the contact. Your eyes lock onto his and a chill runs down his spine at your next demand.

“You’re gonna have to make time.”

That marks the day that you, the newest recruit, left the one and only Katsuki Bakugo speechless. He wanted nothing more than to laugh you off and shut the door, but he hurriedly whispered “Fine, tomorrow at 5am” against his better judgement, then slammed the door.

And thus began the tradition of training with your boss twice a week. It was rigorous, as you expected, but you were more than capable of keeping up with his pace. After a few weeks, he stopped acting grumpy about it and started complimenting your progress. You’ve gotten multiple reports back from other heroes saying they’ve seen an improvement in your work, and how you’ve been extending that to the other sidekicks.

What happened the next morning is something Bakugo still can’t fathom, nor did he think he could ever feel something like it again.

It’s 5am, a regular training session in the agency gym - like always. Today, he’s got you working on your hand to hand combat, focusing on grapples, pins and guarding. He encourages you to go all out, and you do, resulting in sweeping his legs out from under him to knock him on his ass. He’s about to say something snarky like “lucky shot” when you steal the breath from his lungs by following up by pinning him to the ground, straddling his hips and gripping his wrists above his head, chest pressed against his as you hover inches from his face, huffing with sweat trickling down your forehead.

Bakugo's mind goes blank and all his focus shifts to your body contact. All he can think about is the pressure of your fingers snaked around his wrists, the plush of your chest squished up against his own, how your thighs are clenched on his hips and the sensation of your ankles tucked against his thighs. He can feel his face heating up, and his groin, unable to look away or run off somewhere to hide. He's somewhat thankful you have his wrists pinned, elsewise he may have...no, he can't think about that.

"...hello? Earth to Dynamight?" you call at him, releasing one of his wrists to wave your hand in his face. "You okay? You're looking a little pale."

He violently shakes his head, clearing his throat before muttering, "M'fine, now get off'a me."

He scoots backward on the gym mat when you leave his personal bubble, tucking his legs up to his chest with his head on his forearms. He doesn't notice that he's biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and has broken out into a cold sweat. You're standing there, dumbfounded, and decide to call it off for the morning.

"Well, I'll let you get to work or whatever it is you gotta do. Sorry for knocking you on your ass so hard, Dy-"

"Y'can call me Katsuki, you know. S'not always strictly hero names around here."

Where the fuck did that come from? You barely know her.

You grace him with a smile, tilting your head sweetly. "Thanks, Katsuki. I'll see ya later." And off you go, skipping to the locker room to wash up for your shift later in the morning.

What the fuck was that?

Bakugo's stuck sitting on the mats a little while longer, desperately waiting for himself to cool off like a horny high school teenager. He's got a million thoughts running through his head, and the one at the forefront is you in the same exact position, only...

...No.

He can't think of you like that.

Can he?

Shit, he didn't even talk to you outside of mandatory meetings before this training bullshit. But he can't deny you're attractive, and your personality only makes you that much hotter to him.

And so, Bakugo walks into the shared locker room, purposefully locks the door and turns on one of the showers, as hot as he could manage. His back begins to redden from the pressure and temperature of the jet stream as he rested his forearm against the tile. Soon enough, all thoughts of you cumulated into the drain at his feet, ejected from his body and taken care of.

Until the next morning, where he finds you sitting at his desk with two coffees.

"Mornin'! Brought you a 'sorry I kicked your ass' apology coffee. Your assistant said you like it black, hope she was right!"

Shit.

tags; @slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Pissing on Romance's Grave

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k TYPE: Humor, Established relationship WARNING(S): tw Kaiser

Today is worse than a plague.

Well… Exaggerated inner turmoil aside, you’ve been having an awful day. It’s like you’ve been waddling through a swamp of bullshit. Even now you’re climbing up the stairs to your apartment because the stupid elevator broke. Could’ve been worse, you suppose — at least you weren’t inside when it malfunctioned.

The feeble attempt at optimism, however, isn’t easing your hatred and misery at all. Proof of your ever present anger is how you almost rip the door off its hinges after you unlock it, barging in, then closing it with a bang again.

While taking off your shoe, you register a strange smell. Of something burnt. Maybe you’re resigned to the fate that it’s probable you’ll die today, so while you are alarmed, it’s not enough to make you hurry and run with your other shoe still on. Even when you do begin your trek with heavy footsteps, your pace is brisk at best, following the scent right to your bedroom.

You don’t hesitate, but perhaps you should’ve, since it would’ve given you a moment to brace yourself. Still, nothing could’ve really prepared you for the sight that greets you once you enter.

“I can explain,” Kaiser says with wide eyes, reaching out his hands in front of him in case you try to lunge at him and go in for the kill.

Your bathrobe looks burned. Usually this isn’t an observation you’d be making, but you’re forced to now, what with Kaiser wearing it… for some godforsaken reason. Your bed is in even worse condition, tattered and covered in soot, melting candles knocked over. Wax sticking to the ruined sheets. Rose petals are scattered all over the floor. Many of them are ashy like they got caught up in whatever incident occurred. Three more candles dripping over the flowers and the carpet, all these things culminating in a giant mess.

What the actual fuck are you looking at?

“Open the window!” you scream at him then gesture towards it, maybe in case he doesn’t know what a ‘window’ is. It wouldn’t surprise you at this point with the way things are going.

“I did!” Kaiser says, annoyed, as if he has any right to be giving you an attitude in this situation. Though, recognizing the murderous intent in your face, he fumbles to reach out and open it. “I did, but I got cold, so I closed it.”

“Yeah, speaking of, why the hell are you wearing my bathrobe?”

“Because I didn’t want to bring mine-”

“Why do you need to be wearing a bathrobe. At. All.”

“For the atmosphere.”

“For the atmosphere?” You throw your hands up in the air in exasperation. “For the atmosphere?! There’s no atmosphere, this is just a fire hazard!”

“It was going to be romantic-”

“Why did you close the window even though the room hasn’t aired out and stayed inside? Why were you even- What if something happened to you?!”

Kaiser smirks at you, content all of a sudden, before he crosses his arms. You could punch him in the face. “Oh, so you’re worried about me. You’d be sad if I died.” He says all this in the tone of announcing a triumph he’s holding over your head.

You ignore him, stepping over one of the roses. Kaiser regards the action with mild offense, which you don’t notice, since you’re too lost in the haze of your rage to even comprehend what’s going on. “How did you even manage this?”

“There was a miscalculation.”

“What does that mean?”

“I, um, I… tried to pose on the bed,” says Kaiser. This is the first time you’ve seen him look shameful during your entire time together, averting his gaze away from yours and all. Which is one way to affirm his statement and plan are particularly stupid, since he’s the type to stare at you straight on, unflinching, and smirk at you while telling you the dumbest shit.

“Pose?”

“You know. You know what I mean, right? Like a French girl? Yeah, like that.” The more he explains it, the more pathetic his mumbling is getting. To think even Kaiser, who’s obsessed with the sound of his voice, is capable of an inside voice.

You’ve never been so tense in your life. You might be developing a hernia in your neck. “Oh right, of course. Right! Because why wouldn’t you do that while wearing something flammable? I’m so stupid, how didn’t I think of that? Also, why in the world were you trying to LIGHT UP THE CANDLES AGAIN?! Like, let them rest, they’re already fucking done for! I saw you!”

“For the- for my artistic purposes. Of course. A real visionary doesn’t just give up after a small mishap.”

“And! The key I gave you is for emergencies! Not for you to-”

“But it was!!! A fucking emergency!”

“-set fires in my home! What are you even doing here?” You finish off your speech with a huff. Your tantrum has exhausted you, but at the same time it’s convenient you can use Kaiser as a verbal punching bag because of his lunacy.

Now he’s channeling his kicked puppy eyes. Like, he’s trying his best to force himself to cry, you can tell by the way he’s squinting at you and straining. When the effort proves futile he gives up and settles for glaring at you. “Alright, I know I messed up, but it’s obvious I was trying to surprise you for our anniversary.”

You blink at him. Then stay quiet.

“You forgot!” he accuses, trying to distract you from being mad at him by creating some fabricated emotional torment. Then he tries to force himself to cry again, and all you do in response to the display is roll your eyes.

Damn, you can’t believe your day has been so awful, your one year anniversary slipped your mind. These people are working you to an early grave.

“Whatever,” you say, before making a vague motion all around. “Clean up.”

His jaw hangs open as if he’s scandalized. “What? You want me to clean this shit all by myself?”

“You inflicted this on my poor bed alone. Clean it, now.”

Seeing that you’re apparently not dying of guilt, Kaiser decides to switch tactics. “But! My beloved, light of my life, fire in my groin-”

“That’s-” you interrupt your own sentence with a groan and resist the urge to either sock him in the jaw or find a way to knock yourself out through some obscure pressure point. Then you shake your head. Unfortunately it does nothing useful like for example maybe erasing the last twenty-four hours from your mind and instead remains as a meaningless gesture. “Not how it goes.”

“I know,” he says, satisfied with himself and his ridiculous antics. At least you think he must be from his annoying, smug grin. Though immediately after Kaiser appears to get a mood swing because his lips twist down again. “I can’t believe you forgot about our anniversary, though. And now you’re making me act like a maid. Do I mean nothing to you? You’re breaking my spirit here and this is an unethical dynamic-”

“Micha, I don’t give a fuck about your guilt tripping act. Just clean this up so we can enjoy the rest of our day.”

“Fine. Whatever. You win. You win! Your heartlessness wins against my romantic soul. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

You grit your teeth. “Shut up and get on with it.”

“Okay.” He deflates like a particularly depressed balloon.

You then proceed to watch as Kaiser makes his way around and acts like gathering and throwing away rose petals is the most difficult thing anyone has ever done. In his mind, this experience must be the most suffering anyone’s ever endured — but who knows what goes through his head. Several times, he offers to buy you a new apartment because he ‘doesn’t feel like dealing with this’ and since it’s ‘below him.’

And the whole time you’re observing him and his behavior, you can’t help but wonder what mental institution this man must’ve crawled out of to then find his path leading to you.

[speedycoffeedelight]

An Animalistic Disaster

Summery: You recently moved to a cabin in the woods for some peaceful time alone. But that is ruined when somehow a wide variety of different animals invade your space out of nowhere. Was this your Disney princess era or is there something more to it..

Also a crazy killer seems to be also on the loose as of now. And this guy who seems to be your new neighbour seems suspicious. Is there any connection?

(I kinda just had some scenarios made in my mind with the hazbin crew as animals so I decided to write them(◕ᴗ◕✿) )

Master list

CH-1: The fluffy and the winged friend

As you turned the key,the door opened with a click. A gust of dusty air left the cabin as you opened the door. Coughing a little you started to look for the light switch with your hand. Soon you found it and turned it on as light filled the room. It was the kitchen from the looks of it. There was an old stove on the left side of the room,followed by a sink and a countertop.

On the right side was a wooden sofa. It look to be in bad shape as some of its parts had been eaten by bugs.You took a mental note to fix that later. There was a small stool beside the sofa which looked pretty okay. There was also a window above the sink. You went there and opened it to let some fresh air in. There was two more room to explore. You went in the right one.

This time it was a bedroom. There was a queen sized bed on a corner. Alongside it was your wardrobe and on the other side of the room was a chair and a table, all of which you made sure to be moved here before you came. There was a door in there too which you guessed was the bathroom. You went to the window above the table and opened it to let the sunlight in.

The other room was a bit spacious with a small fireplace and some old books with shelves in a corner. There was a lounge there too. Everything looked pretty neat for now.After finishing your tour of the cabin you took a big breath.

You used almost all the money you saved up till now to buy this cabin around the woods. You really wanted to settle down in a quiet place close to nature from your childhood and it just seemed perfect.

"Welp,time to get some unpacking done"

You rolled up the sleeves of your shirt and went to the balcony where all of your stuff were left in a pile of boxes. You crouched down and picked up a box labeled 'kitchen' and started to work.

You took a break at noon to whip something up quick for lunch and rest. The rest of the unpacking was almost done by afternoon,as you didn't have much anyway. You went to get one last box that was left on the balcony. It was a bit bigger then other ones. You went to open it up,but suddenly it started to violently shake.

"What the-"

You quickly took a couple steps back. You don't remember placing something moving or vibrating in that box. At least nothing that would start moving by itself like a blender. Gulping down you you slowly inched to the box again. As you were close to touching the lid, it opened by itself. Being startled,you quickly retrieved your hands as a pair of horns poked through the box.

"Huh?"

Suddenly that something with horns jumped in front of you from the box. It was a sheep, a small fluffy adorable sheep. Following its jump, an ashy moth also flew out from the box and sat on the sheep's horns.

You were confused as hell. How the heck did a whole ass sheep and a big moth get inside your box? It didn't seem like the boxes were open beforehand. But swatting away that confusion,you focused on what to do with the two little creatures in front of you right now.

Your cabin was surrounded by woods on one side and it was far from safe for a little sheep like it. Plus you really wanted to pet it for some reason. Deciding you'll keep it with you for however long You can. You slowly started to get close to it holding out your hand.

The sheep was looking at you curiously and started to walk over to your hand. While the moth seemed to be tensed by you almost.

Slowly the sheep was under your reach. You softly put your hand on it head and began to pet it. The sheep closed it eyes which you think meant it was enjoying it. The moth seemed to be comfortable too now. Looking closer, you noticed the moth was missing one of it's eye. There was a cross where it's left eye should be.

Normally you weren't a big fan of moths. But this one really looked pretty. You mentally cursed whichever thing that made such a cute creature look like this.

Now you slowly tried to pick up the sheep so you can carry it to your room. You had some vegetables left over that you could give to the sheep.

"Hey there darling,come with me. Let's get you some food alright..?"

You spoke in a soft voice attempting to reassure it. But then it hit you that they wouldn't understand your language. You mentally facepalmed yourself right then for your stupidity. But to your surprise,it came closer to you and let itself be picked up. Even looking a bit happy in the process if that was possible. You heart absolutely melted at the sight of it and the soft fur. The moth flew and sat on top of your head.

"Well then, let's get going,shall we?"

You said as you walked back into the cabin with the small sheep in hand and moth on your head. At least you wouldn't feel lonely in this cabin tonight.

(A/n: just trying to get the environment figured out in this chapter and I'm not really good with it:') )

(Also this is already published in both ao3 and wattpad under the same name. But I wanted to publish it here too and see how it goes. The artwork isn't mine!!)

[sorrowfulrosebud]

I got idea from your keiko story. What if reader somehow meets kid shigaraki?

ANON. I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD. (Consensually of course)

Content: reader finds kid Shigaraki and takes care of him (sobs)

Genre: angst, a lot of fluff tho so it cancels out

“Okay, do I have everything? Keys, purse? Yep, looks like I do,” you reassured yourself as you set off to the store. The looming thought of the hot summer sun sent ironic shivers through your body, days lolling about on the couch sleepily when your boss wasn’t demanding every second of your time.

You locked the door hurriedly, determined to stock up on essentials, as well as some treats for your kitten, and set on your way. Your earphones nestled comfortably in your ears, drowning out the whines of crying children and rowdy school students by blaring your favourite music. It was a beautiful day nonetheless, birds twittering softly as the sun beat down on you. Your bag thumped lightly against your side, providing a steady rhythm alongside your music.

The trek was relatively easy; the local convenience store wasn’t even a 10 minute walk from your house and you were soon on your way back to your beloved princess kitten, Freya, with an armful of essentials (plus a few goodies). Music thudded from your earphones noisily, distracting you from looking properly where you were going until you nearly fell over from an unknown obstacle.

“What the hell?!” You were ready to cuss the fucker out, until you looked down.

A small child, couldn’t have been much older than six years old, stared emptily back. No. The look wasn’t empty. It was hollow, as if a child was stuck in a body it didn’t belong in. His hair was a beautiful powder blue, long and stark. It was ashy too, and slightly greasy. You assumed it was from days, possibly weeks, of parental neglect. Some of the thicker strands were matted at the back, and his fringe fell heavily over his face.

When your eyes connected, something shattered deep within your chest. Small orbs that would normally be filled with tears at the idea of being lost were totally empty. Despite the lack of emotion on the poor boy’s face, you could see some small flecks of red amongst the vast space of white.

Blood was everywhere; on his face, deep in his eyebrows, caked under his nails that he held oh so tightly. The poor baby was in trouble, and you were desperate to know why. You removed a headphone and crouched down, placing the plastic bags gently either side of you.

Each move was tentative and slow, like the shivering lamb in front of you was going to bleat and run away.

“Hey there sweetheart, are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” You questioned him softly. The boy tightened up at your question, before tears started to fill his waterline. His hands wrung tightly against each other before lifting one up to scratch his neck.

“I-I didn’t mean it!” He choked out. The tone of his voice caught you severely off guard; instead of being soft or rowdy like a regular child, he sounded strained. Not unlike nails on a chalkboard, you found yourself flinching. The scratching grew more intense as you looked on in anxiety.

“Woah, hey little guy! You could really hurt yourself doing that!” You brought your arm up to stop him scratching, before flinching backwards due to a blood-curdling scream.

“NO, PLEASE DON’T!!” He shrieked, hands covering his grimy face and fell to his sides. The petrified baby was trembling profusely despite having fallen to the ground in his fear. Tears dampened his once dry and crusty cheeks, little torso shaking in heaving breaths.

A beetle that was pottering near his hand’s disintegrated immediately, and the dots started to connect. You paused; you had to be careful about this.

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t touch you, but you might change your mind after you hear my quirk. Do you want to know what it is?” You remained on his level. Slow, and gentle. Like taming a wild kitten.

This seemed to rouse the boy from his oncoming anxiety attack as he looked at you tearfully. He seemed to consider the idea, before nodding his head dolefully. A large grin overtook your features as you presented your hand.

“My quirk is called equilibrium. It means that I can balance out quirks and maintain a constant state. In exchange for being able to being ‘immune’ to quirks, I usually end up with a killer migraine that lasts a few days. It normally depends on how strong the quirk is, so I don’t really use it a lot. Isn’t that cool?!” You asked him excitedly.

The boy looked at you with curiosity. You let out a small chuckle.

“So, what I’m saying is, you can touch me and I won’t disappear. I promise you,” you solemnly swear to him, extending your pinky finger. Tenko looked at it in pure fear, almost as if the devil himself tainted it.

“I understand that you’re frightened, but you’re dirty, walking around the street with no shoes. I want to help you,” you whispered to him gently. Tenko seemed to light up at your statement.

A tiny pinky extended to you, trembling but still willing. It wrapped itself around you, and you almost shuddered at the texture of his skin. Nonetheless, you continued to loop your fingers around his small hand until you were fully holding his hand. Tenko stared at you with tears pricking his eyes again. He could… touch you?! You smiled softly.

“I told you, see? You can’t hurt me,” you promised. Tenko couldn’t help the tears that trickled down his malnourished cheeks as he dove into a hug. Your eyes widened; just what the hell has this poor baby been through? Your arms shifted under him to cup him closer to you.

“Do you want to come to my house? It’s not that far, so we can get you cleaned up, fed and then find out what to do with you,” you murmured into his ears. Tenko thought for a moment before nodding, his shaggy hair tickling your cheek.

Tenko rearranged himself to wrap his arms around your neck as you grabbed the bags that you previously dropped and nestled his legs around you.

==================================

The journey was only 10 minutes, and yet Tenko had dozed off on the way. His small snores rumbled softly in your ears as you fiddled in your pockets for the keys. Tenko jolted awake at the sound before realising where he was.

“Mph, are we there yet?” He whined sleepily, dry fists rubbing against his eyes. Your cat meowed at the new smell in her home, shaking the sleep off and meowing indignantly.

You set Tenko down with a slight grunt; carrying a small child and 3 grocery bags was not an easy feat. You knelt back down to Tenko’s level and gently rested your hand on his shoulder.

“Now, I need to know your name. I think it’s silly that we don’t know each other’s name, so let’s introduce ourselves before we start calling each other sillier nicknames,” you giggled, earning a small smile from the boy.

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you,” you said warmly, holding out your hand. Tenko paused before giving you his hand back.

“I’m Tenko Shimura,” he mumbled back.

“Well Tenko, I think you need a bath. Am I alright to run you one?” You asked him. He thought for a moment before nodding his heavy head.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

==================================

The bath water was an absolute godsend to Tenko’s fractured body. The soothing smell of your cherry bakewell scented bath gel calmed Tenko’s nerves as he glanced around the bathroom.

“Is the water alright in there, sweetheart? It’s not too hot is it?” You shouted from your bedroom, gathering soft fluffy towels.

“N-no. Its… nice, thank you,” he tried shouting back, voice cracking. He observed the bath water as he waded his hands through it. Once clear as diamond, the water slowly shifted to a murky brown. Chunks of dried blood dropped into the water, splashing back into Tenko’s face. He let out a whimper; he must look disgusting.

Your soft rapping at the door brought him out of his thoughts.

“Tenko? Am I alright to come in, little lamb? I can help you wash your hair if that’s okay?” You asked him gently.

“U-um… yes please,” he nodded back. You opened the door and smiled at him to reassure his jolting nerves.

“You’re certainly looking cleaner, little lamb! Look at the colour of the tub!” You giggled before feeling your heart pang at the tears forming in Tenko’s eyes.

“Oh no, I’m sorry sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” you rubbed his hair to comfort him. Tenko’s eyes grew wider as he started to sob louder in the tub. The feeling of something so simple as rubbing his head when he’s sad was so alien to him. God, you hated whoever did this to him.

“That’s it my little lamb, let it out. That’s a good boy, just cry until you can’t any more,” you crooned sympathetically, rubbing his head and wiping away tears.

And so, Tenko did just that. Cried. He cried until no more tears would come out, he cried until his head started to hurt, he cried for everything. For his mother, for his sister and for Mon. And oh, how he cried for his dog who provided more comfort than any member of his family.

==================================

When Tenko woke up again, he was bundled up in blankets on a couch that felt worlds different than the leather one at his house. This was soft and warm, with needlefelt and crocheted cushions. He lifted his sleepy head up before jolting his hands away. But the crumbling of the couch never came.

Tenko glanced down and was met with a small pair of winter gloves, cut so that Tenko’s fourth and pinky finger were concealed.

“Ah, you woke up! You worried me for a second there, little lamb. You kinda passed out on me in the bath, so I cleaned you up and bundled you up on the couch,” you rambled on as you set down a glass of milk for him.

“Here sweetheart, drink up. You must have hurt your voice badly,” you nudged it to him as he readjusted himself comfortably.

“T-thank you,” he mumbled brokenly, voice still strained from all of the crying. He took the first gulp before realising just how thirsty he was. Next thing you knew, the glass was empty as Tenko huffed and puffed.

“Wow little lamb, you must have been thirsty, hmm? I’ll bet you’re hungry too?” You guessed. Tenko nodded his head quickly, scared that you’ll pull back your offer. You smiled at his slight change of demeanour.

“That’s alright, I’ll go make you something now. How does Katsu curry sound?”

Tenko’s eyes lit up.

“T-that sounds good thanks,” he mumbled happily, playing with his fingers shyly. You nodded at him and told him to get comfortable.

As you cooked, Tenko remained on the couch and looked around. Your apartment was cozy, filled to the brim with trinkets and photos of your friends and family. Soft knitted blankets dotted around the room, a large scratching post for your cat as well as numerous toys.

Tenko jumped as he felt a slight shift in the couch. The small black, white and grey cat he saw earlier was staring at him, sizing him up for a moment before nestling into his side. She kneaded the blanket that pooled around his knees, purring away.

Tenko thought for a moment before tentatively stroking the gap between her ears, pleased when the purring increased tenfold.

“I see you’ve become friends with my cat,” you giggle as you present two steaming bowls.

“She’s lovely,” he murmured shyly, petting her a little more confidently. You hummed in acknowledgement as you set the bowls down as well as some cutlery.

“Now, eat up. Then, we have to go to the police and see what happens next,” you smiled at him as ice flooded his blood.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Nothing is going to happen to you. You’re only a child, and you clearly didn’t mean to kill anyone. I’ll have to check if you have any more family that can take you in,” your tone softened as you looked at Tenko’s face.

“I-I don’t have anyone else. A-all of my f-family was in the… the-,” he started crying again, gloved hands coming to reach his neck. You took his hand in yours and rubbed it soothingly, before lifting him up and placing him in your lap. Tenko buried his face into your neck and sobbed whilst you stroked his hair.

“I know, little lamb, I know. If that’s the case, then I’m going to look into adopting you myself, if that’s what you want?” You looked at him as you asked him.

Tenko’s eyes lit up before dimming again.

“B-but my quirk hurts people. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I’ve already hurt so many people,” He whimpered. Your heart ached looking at the young boy.

“My quirk is perfectly compatible with yours, and as long as you wear those gloves then you have no reason to worry. You’ve already seen just how mean people can be with people with a quirk like yours. If you stay with me, then I can protect you and help you,” you lifted Tenko’s chin to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart, it’s a cruel, mean world for people who society deem ‘villains’. You have been hurt and ignored by these people, and I want to make sure that doesn’t happen again. You’re only a small boy, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. I can help you learn to control your quirk to prevent accidents like this again. I know it hurts now, but we can get through this. I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

Tenko flung himself deeper into your chest and sobbed until his throat was raw. In the past few hours, you had shown him such kindness that it overwhelmed him, on a level that only his mother dared display. Throughout the day, you had a warm glow radiate from within you. Tenko knew he wouldn’t have anyone else look after him.

You cuddled Tenko closer to you as he settled down.

“Now, let’s eat before the food goes cold,” you smile.

“Okay mama.”

==================================

“Tenko? Tenko, hurry up! You’re gonna be late for your first day!” You yelled up the stairs to your adopted son.

“I know, ma! I can’t find the extra pair of gloves you gave me,” he yelled back, rootling the Eraserhead backpack you gifted him. It was his first day at UA Hero Academy, and your nerves were just as shaky as his. He eventually found them, relieved at the sight as he readjusted his tie agitatedly.

“Do you have everything? Lunch, your creams, your throat spray?” You fussed over him, straightening his tie and smoothing his blazer lapels.

“Damn ma, you were rushing me out the door and now you’re gonna make me late,” he groaned, but cracked a light smile.

You looked at him. He had improved so much since you first took him in. His hair was cleaner, his skin had better creams, his lips were smeared in soothing lip balms and his allergies were nearly a thing of the past. The thought of the young, helpless boy you took in using his once destructive power for the better of society brought tears to your eyes.

“H-hey, don’t get all emotional ma! What’s the matter?!” He fussed, stopping when you smile at him.

“I’m so proud of you, Tenko. More than you’ll ever know. Now, go be the best hero that anyone has ever seen in UA!” You wiped your tears as you hugged your son, feeling him tremble slightly in return.

“Thanks ma. For everything.”

[theodorequartz]

Hazbin hotel various x reader

[ His Companion ]

Prologue: A companion

Alastor walked to the empty streets of hell. The sky red and hollow. A circle illuminated the endless bleeding sky, it's a symbol which represents the ring of a sin. The sin of pride. What a beautiful sight, Alastor grinned.

Sounds of footsteps are the only thing that is heard aside from Alastors delightful humming and the sound of blowing wind. The streets empty and silent. Corpses scattered to the ground, blood painted to the plain concrete. Some buildings burning red with fire adding to the red complection of the sky, but not enough to copy it's sheer velvet color. It looked beautiful. The crunching sound of the burning materials adding to it almost made it calming.

Alastor twirled his microphonenic staff. His red eyes glitching as he wiped his blood stained lips, his wide monstrous grin never leaving his face. His golden sharp teeth glinted from the light of the fire as he licked them clean from the metallic wet liquid.

With a snap of his finger, an eyeball appeared. It was a beautiful shade of light blue with white iris. Alastor hummed. The color reminded him of what supposed to be the color of the sky in a warm sunny day back in the land of living. He rolled the eyeball in his fingers. This eyeball belonged to a friend back in the surface. What a shame. They were such great pals to. If only they didn't get in his way.

Alastor crushed the eye, leaving nothing but red mush in his hand. The blood was warm, almost burning in his hand as he watched it drip down the already bloodied concrete.

It's only been a day since his death and a day since he started killing demons, bringing chaos, destroying turfs, broadcasting it all throughout hell to show his power. All citizen in hell must know which demon not to mess with.

The whirling sound of the radios around him echoed through the silence matching the chuckles released from his breath.

He looked up at the sky once more, his grin widening further. He spread his arms wide, presenting himself in this new world he now stands in. He laughed out loud, the buzzing sound of radio joining in. In response, radios around him released glitching sounds mixed with ear piercing ringing of microphones. This is power.

A sudden glowing light flashed from the sky. Like a twinkling star in an endless red void. It pulled Alastor in. Just as a siren lulling a fisherman further to the sea.

The glow faded, swallowed by the dominating color of red as it fell down. Alastor watched as a figure emerge from the light, falling a few distance away from him. The pressure from the fall created cracks from the concrete.

Alastor walked towards the figure. His each step becoming faster as he neared. He stopped.

In front of him was an angel. Pure white wings scattered to the pavement, contrasting the corrupted bloody red of his victims remains. White robes stained with the said blood and dust and scratches from the fall. Glistening [color skin] tattered with scars, old and new. Silky shoulder length [hair color] covering half his face. Long lashes hiding his eyes as they were shut asleep.

Interest surged through Alastors core as the crystal white wings slowly turned obsidian black. His pure robes corrupted into an ashy color. Alastor saw the fallen angel shifted and whimpered in his sleep. Alastor crouched down, lifting his hand to brush the silky hair away from his face. Alastors fingers glazed through the angels cheek. His skin is pleasantly cold against his warm ones. Alastors hand retreated and he rubbed his fingers.

The angels eyes started to open. Golden eyes peeked through the luscious lashes, it looked straight at Alastors bright red ones. The feeling of those beautiful eyes look straight at him send shivers to his bones pleasantly.

Without breaking eye contact, the angel sat up. Wings resting at his sides, the angel looked up at Alastor. Silence stayed between them. Still looking into each other's eyes, they examined each other. They looked deep into each other's soul.

Behind the echoing silence. An agreement. An understanding.

Alastor reached his hand out.

The angel finally broke eye contact and looked at the hand reached out for him. He lifted his hand.

As their hands made contact, a promise was made.

I shall be your companion, and you shall be mine.

[ Hello ! This is my first post on Tumblr! I came from Wattpad so apologies for my mistake. You could come see my stories there! @TheodoreQuartz0001 is my Wattpad account! ^^]

[evereverest2]

Hate — Terzomega

~part four of the Little Monster Series~

~1.8k words

Terzo and Omega wake up the morning after the party. Things are a little tense.

[parts]: one | previous | next

[author note:] hi everyone :> i just want to say thank you for supporting my series. small announcement; this series will now be updating once a week, every week! enjoy the chapter :3]

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A blinding stream of light peeked down from the window into Omega’s eyes. He let out a short groan at having been awoken, squinting into the sun, holding his hand up to cover the beam.

His body was stiff from sleeping in one position all night. Next to him, face pressed against his side, was Terzo, curled up in the white comforter.

His black makeup was smeared all to hell, giving his face an ashy quality. Tears, vomit, sex. There was an unpleasant smell somewhere around him. Omega had never seen him look so at ease, though. The times he saw Terzo in a neutral stance now seemed like an act compared to the content expression he wore in slumber.

Omega swung his legs off the bed, cracking his back, stretching his arms, still squinting at the evil sun through the window. He stood to close the blinds, casting the room into darkness.

The alarm clock on the nightstand read 8:09. Omega scratched his chest, looking at the sleeping man in the hotel bed. Terzo needed to clean himself up—shower, brush his teeth, reapply his makeup. He could only do one of those things, but Omega did not want to return to the Ministry with him looking and smelling like a wreck. He knew Imperator would not appreciate day-old vomit breath when she inevitably chewed him out.

Omega peeked outside the room, seeing that their laundry had already been cleaned and returned to them. He laid Terzo’s pressed outfit on the armchair, then disappeared inside the bathroom to tend to his own cleansing.

He showered, dressed, and returned to his glamor and his uniform. Terzo was still sound asleep. Omega ventured outside the hotel room to the lobby, where he found a convenience shop to purchase a toothbrush and toothpaste for Terzo, as well as aspirin. By the time he returned, it was a quarter to nine, and he was beginning to get impatient with his sleep.

He tossed the bag of purchases at Terzo, standing at the foot of the bed. “Wake up.”

Terzo startled as the bag hit his face. He stared vacuously for a few moments before landing his eyes on Omega, then the bag.

“Hm?”

“Clean yourself up and get dressed. We’re going back to the Ministry.”

Terzo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Good. My head hurts.”

“There’s medicine in the bag.”

Terzo peeked inside. “That’s sweet, ghoul, but it is a small solution.”

Omega’s jaw tensed. “So you’re going to drink?”

“Eh, not so early; it is not even noon.” Terzo cracked open the bottle and swallowed a handful. “Although they do say it is afternoon time somewhere.”

Omega glared but said nothing. He was not his cardinal’s keeper.

“Thank you.”

“What?”

“Thank you.” Terzo held up the bag. “My mouth tastes terrible.”

He stood, glanced at his clothes, then walked slowly to the bathroom, holding the wall. Omega watched him disappear inside.

He was in the bathroom for a long time. Omega lay on the bed, waiting. He heard the toilet, the sink, the shower, the sink, retching, the sink, the aspirin bottle, the sink. When he heard nothing more, he texted the driver to meet them, assuming Terzo would be ready soon enough.

“Omega ghoul, will you hand me my clothes?” His voice echoed from the bathroom.

“Come get them yourself.”

“You want to see me naked, mostriciatto?” There was a smile in his voice. The jab pissed Omega off enough to bregrudingly snatch up his clothes and shove them through the crack in the door.

After another ten minutes of waiting, Terzo emerged from the bathroom, cleaned up, and looking awful. Without his makeup, his ill, sullen face was on display for everyone to wince at. He looked like he would be nauseous any second, like a gentle breeze could knock him down. Omega realized he had never seen him without the dark, black makeup circles around his eyes, and his current look was doing him no favors.

Terzo slowly crossed the room. He walked as if trying to appear confident but evidently trying not to set off his stomach. He put on his sunglasses, which helped to cover his sickly, bloodshot eyes.

“Where is the driver?” Terzo asked in a low, quiet voice, markedly wanting to avoid loud noises for the sake of his headache.

“Ten minutes.”

“Why is he not ready now?”

“I didn’t know how long you were going to be.”

“I have to wait because you did not want him to? How is that working, hm?”

Omega was becoming annoyed at his pain-induced rudeness. “You’re hungover.”

“Because you do not let me drink!” he said, exasperated. He dug in his pocket and lit a cigarette with his shaky hands. “You have been so much worse than usual to me.”

“I’ve been worse than usual?” Omega erupted suddenly. “I’ve been the one taking care of you! You’re the one who was acting insane last night!”

Terzo flinched, holding his head and covering his ears. “Could you speak quieter, ghoul?”

Omega seethed, unable to stop himself. “You’re pathetic. I’ve been trying to help you, and you sidestep me every time. If you’re wondering why no one gives a shit about you, this is why. Because you’re nothing but a drunk, spoiled brat without an ounce of decency. It won’t matter when you become Papa. Nothing will change. No one will ever care about you.”

Terzo stared at the ground, hand in his pocket, fingers still trembling slightly. He said nothing. Omega said nothing. His phone vibrated. The driver.

“Is that the car?” Terzo asked simply. Omega nodded.

Wordlessly, they both made their way to the lobby, out to the sleek black car sat waiting for them. Omega opened the door for him. Terzo said nothing.

A tense, awkward silence plagued the entire drive back. When the driver turned on the radio, Terzo snapped at him to shut it off. He was chain-smoking the entire time, tossing cigarette butt after cigarette butt out the window. Omega snuck a glance at Terzo’s hand. Bright pink welts decorated his palm and the base of his cigarette-holding fingers. They must have stung.

Waiting in the lobby of the Ministry was Imperator, her hands clasped behind her back, wearing her ever-present scowl. Behind her was the Special, a ghoul Omega had rarely interacted with that Imperator kept close to the Clergy at all times. In fact, he had never even seen him beneath his mask. He certainly never interacted with any of the other ghouls.

“Nice of you two to join us at last,” Imperator greeted coldly before hissing out a vicious lecture directed at Terzo for being irresponsible, for not having self-respect, for partying like a child, for a multitude of petty criticisms that served no purpose but to humiliate him. Terzo did not react, neither with a twitch nor blink. Omega stood by, curious how he could hold himself together so well. He reached out to his mind, which was now sober and easy to read.

There was nothing but storms. He felt Terzo holding back tears. His head was pounding painfully, sharpened by Imperator’s shrill and pronounced tone. His stomach churned dangerously. Many emotions were swirling around his mind, none more prominent than self-hatred. Terzo felt like death. His hangover was hitting him hard, combined with withdrawal, and this was the second time that morning he was being insulted, hated, bashed by his mistakes and pain over and over again. He was alarmingly close to shattering into pieces, a vase dropped on the tile floor of the Ministry lobby.

“It was my fault,” Omega blurted.

All heads turned to stare at him, including Terzo’s. He cleared his throat.

“I wasn’t paying close enough attention to the time. My apologies, Sister Imperator. I won’t let it happen again.” He bowed his head.

There was a beat of silence. Imperator looked between him and Terzo.

Finally, she said, “See that you don’t.”

She left with the Special. Terzo stared straight ahead.

“Terzo—”

“I already know you hate me, ghoul. Leave me be.” He walked away.

Omega’s brow furrowed. Without a word, he stalked after him, unwilling to leave his side.

Terzo glanced over his shoulder, then stopped. “What?! What more do you want from me?!”

“I’m going to help you,” he replied determinedly.

“I do not need your fucking help, ghoul! Let me alone!”

“No.”

“Why—” Terzo stopped suddenly, his eyes widening, clutching his stomach. He keeled over and vomited in the hallway.

“Fuck,” Terzo hissed, coughing. Omega took a deep breath to calm himself, which only intensified the sour scent now wafting through the air. He called over a Sibling he had seen disappearing inside a nearby room, asking her to take care of the mess, then hoisted Terzo up bridal-style to carry him to his room.

“Let me go, Omega.” Terzo wiggled in his arms, but he had neither the strength nor size to fight him. Omega did not stop marching forward until he set Terzo down in his chambers.

“What is it you want from me?” Terzo asked. Omega saw his eyes glistening wetly.

“I want you to stop drinking.”

Terzo laughed humorlessly. “You expect me to quit, cold poultry?”

“I can help.”

“You must despise me, Omega ghoul, you must. If you want to see me in pain so bad, then you should choke and fuck me all you want.”

“That’s not what I want.”

“Then what, hm? Why do you care if I drink? As I recall, no one cares about me. I should be free to do as I please, si?”

Omega crossed his arms. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Mostriciatto, you hate me most in this unforgiving world.” Terzo laughed again, tears finally falling from his eyes. “You only come to taunt me at my worst. Please, let me alone. You have ended our affair. You have made it clear I am worthless to you. Just go.”

“I don’t hate you.”

The words surprised both of them. Omega gritted his teeth, exhaling slowly.

“You aren’t worthless, either. Right now, you need help. That’s my only concern.”

Terzo took off his sunglasses and wiped his eyes. A shuddering breath escaped him. “Get out.”

Omega was out of options. Terzo was refusing him. Barring taking him hostage in his own chambers, there was nothing more to be done. And if the cardinal refused to be helped, then Omega would have to let him perish.

He turned, pausing with his hand on the door handle, searching his mind for something to say. He heard Terzo’s steps behind him, then a rattle of glass bumping glass. Wine bottles. A sudden burst of anger struck him. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

[parts]: one | previous | next

buy me a kofi <3

[doppel-doodles]

Random tutorial brought to you by Discord shenanigans

I am not a professional by any means this is simply how I tackle coloring skin, do whatever the hell you want as long as you aren't hurting people I do not care how you do it, because honestly in art there is no right way of doing things.

Anyway enjoy some extra rambling down below-

Blush,shading and lineart:

I make everything a bit redder,darker and crank up the saturation, I think it makes the skin feel more alive.

For blush I stick with peach tones for pale complexions and gradually push it towards the reds/pinks the darker the skintone gets.

Don't forget to blend it out!(I do forget, way to often-)

For shading set it on multiply and set opacity to about 50% I think that way its not too overpowering.

Highlight

Make it lighter, and pull it a bit into the yellows/orange's.

I also desaturated the color a bit, staying away from straight up white unless I want the highlights to really 'POP!' out at ya.

A little extra

The palm is lighter than the rest of the hand it's more noticeable the darker your skin tone is, but don't just lighten it, that'll make it look ashy, once again push the saturation and the hue.

My base skin is in the red while for the lighter part I pushed the hue to be more orange to be warmer, I also played with opacity to get the end result.

I do admit it was based a lot on what looked right to me which is why you should:

LOOK AT REFRENCES!!!

Not just of tutorials and drawn references but of actual people!

Also Make-up tutorials are your friend, especially when picking shades of color.

I am very vague with how I pick colors for a reason because I literally pick a new color for EVERYTHING, just like how in real-life people pick a different blush or highlighter.

You kinda have to get a feel for it and what works for me is to experiment and study how other people do it, both in art and real life.

That's it from me happy drawing!

[2smolbeans]

Yandere Obey Me Brothers x Mc (Replaced Au)

But what about the side characters that become Yandere for Alex during the time she learns stuff from them and they become Yandere during Replaced AU

Orginal post/ Part one

In the replaced Au, I wrote.. For the side characters like Mephistopheles, Raphael, Solomon, Thirteen, and Simeon..

They aren't like the brothers and won't necessarily become obessed or infatuated with Alex (the rival student). If anything, to sum up most of their feelings, they would feel..Odd about her.

Like you know when you see a train speeding, and you know it's gonna crash, but you just can't help but watch? That's what they all feel, with their own different versions of course.

Simeon sees the good in people. He's an angel of compassion that adores humans - just like how God so ever loved his children. Like his father, he wants to help, he hates seeing those suffering. So when he sees Alex trapped in their own self-destructive path, he's eager to swoop by her side and be her Guiding Guardian angel.

He tries to help her, and he tries to steer her in a better path that will stop her from hurting you and ultimately herself. But it never seems to work. He'll talk to her, and she'll ignore him. He'll show her what her future looks like if she keeps indulging in the seven deadly sins, and it seems like it gets through to her. He gets hopeful, thinking he she'll change. And she does, for a bit. But then she goes back to her old habits again, and it breaks Simeon's heart. The murder, the abuse, and the torture she so happily inflicts..

Like his father, he wants to help..But also like father, he knows when it's time to give up. He sees the corruption in her soul and knows that nothing can be done. She has free will to do whatever she wants, it's gods given gift after all..And, she doesn't want to change. So he just watches her from the distance, unable to do anything.

He's angry. It's not like she's the first human that the deadly sins have used and manipulated.. And you're not the first obsession the fallen angels ever had.. Lord, why can't these demons just leave poor innocent humans alone?

Thirteen, on the other hand, is purely intrigued. It's a gameshow to the reaper as she watches this 'rivial' student in the shadows. How will she die? When will she die!? Ohhh she bets that Alex is gonna die a painful death!

The reaper eagerly watches this particular corrupted soul that dances with the most eldest evils since creation. She keeps an eye on her soul, the candle of her life always flickering and on the verge of blowing out..

Thirteen is infatuated with Alex and their stupidity. No normal human would comfortably snuggle up with the most horrid demons in hell, let alone SURVIVE being around them. She hasn't seen a normal human do that before. The only human that has ever dealt with the seven deadly sins and survived is that old ashy skeleton Solomon.

So, of course, she's slightly obsessed with this human.. Collecting her soul would be an honor! And seeing what her judgment will be when she gets sent to hell for eternal punishment would be even better!

Like a curious cat, death herself is always waiting at Alex's doorstep. Waiting to collect her soul, eager to terrify her.

Raphael doesn't seem to care or have any likeness towards this rivial student. If anything, he's disgusted with her actions towards you and how far in degeneracy she's gone to. He blames her for interacting with the brothers. He knows that she threw her own life away just by looking their way. He despises the brothers for enabling her sadism as a way to teach you a lesson and to get you vulnerable underneath their shelter..

He doesn't like Alex, but he doesn't hate her either. At the end of the day, he knows that it's just sin and human nature.. It's something that's hard to resist.. It's why he's made it his goal to try to get you out of there. He knows it'll get worse, and he knows that you've been praying for help. He hears your prayers, and he wants to answer them.

Even if you don't know who he is, he'll do everything in his power to give you hints on escaping and tips on how to protect yourself as an omniscient force. As Micheal's second best man, he does know a thing or two about fighting off powerful demons.

As for Solomon..He's entertained and curious. Like Thirteen, this man wants all the tea and info. A human dabbling into witchcraft and cruelty for the sake of the seven rulers of hell? That's interesting! Reminds him of the good old days when he was a beginner and dabbling into witchcraft!

Solomon antagonizes Alex, trying to see how far her devotion is for the seven rulers of hell. He sees her as this cute little girl who has no idea what she's playing with.

Like Thirteen, he'll start placing bets on what mistakes she'll trap herself in. Solomon has seen multiple people like her, desperate for love, desperate for power, and toying with the supernatural.. And they don't last long. Whenever she's roaming around the school, Solomon will go out of his way to tease her, pushing her buttons - but not to the point where she'll get the brothers involved.

When it comes to Alex bullying you, he won't do anything. He feels bad, but oh well. It is what it is! Just nature playing its role. He just likes to watch shit burn to the ground, in all honesty. Plus, why should he do anything? He's not gonna get involved and risk his life when the demon lords are connected with the both of you! Fuck that!

Mephistopheles is probably the only exception of being utterly obsessed with Alex. Not because of love, admiration, or lust.. But because of pure jealousy. How did this human get all the attention and excitement going on with their life? And how in the HELL did they manage to get Lucifer Morningstar himself to be around someone less of his league? And how is it that a HUMAN has more knowledge than a demon like him who has been in hell for years!?

He's interested. He wants to know every detail about Alex's life under the House of Lamentation. He was a journalist and loves to listen to personal details..

Mammon has connections from the human world inside casinos? Interesting.. Asmodeus has fallen angels in his strip club? Who could've known..?

There's another human in the house of Lamentation? Now, this was something he didn't expect.

For the sake of his own curioisty, he'll befriend Alex. He'll keep a calm, collected face, strategically getting closer to her with each day. He doesn't care about her, but he wants to be close to her. It's dumb, but he can't help it. Being around her is just so..Interesting. This rival student has a lot of charm for a human..

Okay, maybe he likes her just a bit.

But yeah, the side characters won't necessarily be 'yandere' for Alex, but definitely are invested.

.

.

[katyawriteswhump]

hotter than hell

For @steddieangstyaugust day 9 prompt, Upside Down; @steddiemicrofic august prompt, plug, 437 words, and also inspired by @astrangersummer week 15 prompt Royalty AU (it didn’t end up as quite that, but the prompt def. inspired this…)

Word: 437 Rating: M CW: dubious consent Tags: post season 4, Eddie lives… sort of, angst, sex, breath play, tentacles (nothing too explicit in this word count, sorry?!?), monster eddie. 

Summary: Steve sacrifices himself to protect the kids from the new ruler of the Upside Down…

...

Screeching demobats wrenched Steve awake. The King of the Upside Down jumped his bones, and grinded him into the ashy ground. “Ready to have your world rocked?”

“Always,” mumbled Steve. “Tho’ isn’t it your world, Munson?”

“Sure is, Babe.” Eddie lightly bit Steve’s earlobe. Steve hissed, squirmed. “And you’re the heart of it.”

…

One month earlier

It didn’t feel like victory. They’d lost Eddie, possibly Max. But they’d vanquished Vecna. Why, despite Eleven’s efforts, was the Upside Down still leaking evil?

They journeyed back. Somehow, Eddie had risen as the new overlord—bat-shit crazy, more powerful than Vecna, and commanding demo-beasties with a flap of a bejewelled hand.

To Steve, he was the scariest monster yet. And HOT, DAMN.

They fled under scarlet skies—awash with wailing guitars and endlessly unspooling cassette-tapes—and through Eddie’s shattered trailer. Naturally, Steve climbed toward safety last. Eddie’s talons—he’d gotten claws to match the batwings—yanked him back.

“How about it?” Eddie lifted Steve clean off the floor in a chokehold. “Be my vanilla cupcake, Harrington, and I won’t munch their throats out.”

“S-seriously?”

“Stay,” commanded Eddie. “Stay… willingly. I saw you stripping my scales from me with your eyes. You wanted this bat-lord naked.”

True.

Plus, I glanced into YOUR scary-ass eyes and saw a shadow of the Eddie Munson who stripped my soul bare.

Steve was kicking wildly, blacking out. Eddie finally released him.

“J-jesus,” spluttered Steve. “The shit I do for those k-kids.”

The gate magically plugged up, silencing Dustin’s cries.

…

When Eddie made love, Steve got fucked by the whole Upside Down.

While Eddie used Steve’s mouth, a fat tendril plugged his ass. Those moistly undulating vines also squeezed around his neck, while roughly frisking his dick. Goddamn… Gnnng!

“Go!” commanded Eddie, and Steve was abruptly freed of the vines. Eddie lifted Steve in his claws and took flight, ramming himself home, screeching adoringly. Steve’s orgasm blew his mind, before Eddie’s lips, still butter-soft, kissed each broken part of him better. 

Okay, life could be worse.

After dozing, Steve stirred in Eddie’s lap. Eddie’s eyes were suspicious slits. “You okay, Princess?”

“Peachy.” Steve blinked. Shit. Did he call out for his friends in his sleep again?

“You… uh, want me to unplug the gates, Stevie?”

God, I miss them all so much.

Steve lifted his lolling head, seeking out that hint of soul in Eddie’s otherwise cold dead eyes. Still there. Not enough to let this monster back into the world. “I miss pizza.” He kept his voice light, un-wibbly. “Otherwise… Only need you, my King.”

Eddie grinned, pink lightning cracked, and his possessive kiss totally fried Steve’s brains.

...

Thanks for reading!

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