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coeurify · 2 years

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perfect girl | ellie williams.

tlou2 ellie williams x fem!reader. college modern au universe. word count 6.8k. proofread barely. part two here

ellie is the most known dealer on campus, and reader is a stuck up, bitchy, sorority girl. somehow ending up near each other at every party, despite constant fighting. this party is no different, at first

this is smut, 18+ only. included use of pet names, mean!ellie, mean!reader, name calling.. fingering r!receiving.. etc. its a bit filthy. i wrote when high

Honestly, you hated frat parties. The loud music, the humid air and noisy college students that all reaked of jungle juice and sweat. None of it appealed to you— you always left feeling dirty and with a headache. But being in the university’s biggest sorority meant it was sort of a needed appearance.

Even now, when you were stressed beyond belief over the three different exams on monday morning. You had still been dragged out by your sorority sisters with the promise of a great party.

It never was great though. Never.

Usually you found yourself shoo-ing off shirtless frat boys advances, cup in your hand that had a bit too much cheap vodka and too little juice. If you had to deal with these things, you may as well be tipsy enough for it.

Though, the alcohol never made you any less in control of yourself. Control was what you valued most, being able to easily keep yourself in check. Making sure your well taken care of clothes never crinkled, ensuring no piece of hair was out of place. This in turn usually meant you took the role of watching over your sorority sisters. Eyeing any boys who got too touchy when they were drunk, snapping at frat guys when they didn’t take a hint. cleaning their face of tears or sweat, reapplying their mascara or lip gloss when they couldn’t. Holding their drinks with your perfectly manicured hands when they needed to pee.

You didn’t judge them for how they acted, you knew they were just having fun. Sometimes you wish you could let go like that too, join in on their dances.. giggle loudly and flirt with boys with drunken courage. But you never did. You probably wouldn’t tonight, even when your friend Dina had taken the role of sober one of the group so you could try and have fun. You still just stood straight up and watched on.

You were untouchable, everyone knew it. You saw the way boys looked at you— like they were falling over themselves just for a chance you might talk to them. Girls whispered about you, whether it be good or bad.. you didn’t exactly care. You had been called a prissy bitch one too many times to truly give a shit what other twenty somethings had to say about your attitude. You enjoyed being something no one could reach. It made you feel powerful. You rarely gave anyone that wasn’t your friends the time of day at these things, and god did it drive people crazy.

You always positioned yourself somewhere like the drink table at every party, watching on as if it was a live show for you to consume. In some ways it was.. you were always a watcher, never involved. So looking on was usually your only source of fun at these things.

Tonight was no different— eyes steady on the large group of people dancing, more so falling over each other, in the center of the room. It was grossly humid, and the flashing lights hurt your eyes. Everyone was pressed too close together— far too big of a crowd for this tiny off campus fraternity.

You found a more open place between the scratchy and old couch and the pop up plastic table. It held half empty bottles and a punch bowl full of some concoction that made you shake your head at girls when they tried to take a cup.

You stand stiffly against the wall— refusing to sit, let alone lean against the couch next to you. You didn't even want to imagine how disgusting it was.. swearing it was a lighter shade of grey last time you were here. This choice of station however was opening yourself up to a night of pure torture from a particular presence that seemed to haunt every. fucking. frat party.

Ellie Williams. Right on cue she walked over, ignoring you as she plopped down onto the couch with a few of the frat boys. She opens a little bag and turns in to face them. Of course. Obviously the stoners would choose the couch as their designated spot for the night.

Even if she had not acknowledged you, you already were burning with annoyance. The orange lighting currently overhead painted you the same color your insides felt. A growing flame, dull and orange in the pit of your stomach.

Ellie was a usual attendee at these parties. But not with a group of friends or some sorority like a normal person. No, Ellie was the chosen dealer for most fraternities of the university.. meaning she almost always showed up to smoke and give out to stingy college students.

But god, you could not understand what made her the choice for these people. You found her utterly obnoxious. She was loud— had the mouth of a sailor, and was always making god awful jokes. She had no shame— outwardly talking to whoever she wanted however she wanted, flirting with girls no matter the situation. Because Ellie also referred to sit out on the side of the parties, it meant you unfortunately spent a lot of time around her. You heard every stupid joke, smelt every gross joint, watched every girl swoon over her atrocious flirting. It was miserable really.

And god did she love to annoy you. It was too easy. She had discovered that at the start of last spring semester, and since then, almost a year ago, had made it a fun game for her. It became routine — and you swore she did it on purpose. Found somewhere close to you, invaded your space, and made the party even worse. Ellie would never admit that though.

Tonight wasn’t different. You couldn’t avoid your eyes drifting to where she was collecting cash from a few frat guys, loudly laughing and making jokes about some Jurassic Park movie that a frat guy promised to put on the projector later.

“Nah, the second one is way better!” The frat boy, Josh from Sigma something-something (you didnt care to remember the names) argued.

Ellie quickly shook her head, and you noticed she was wearing that messy half up half down hairstyle you once told her looked dumb. “You fucking idiot, the first is way better! It's iconic and so are the dinosaurs in it!” she fights back, lightheartedly shoving Josh’s arm.

God, did she have to be so loud? It was already loud enough with the shitty music playing. You tuned out the rest of the conversation.. or attempted to. Ellie’s laugh made its way up and over the beat of the song playing. You looked over again, watching the way her head fell back. Even from here you could see the freckles on her face. The low colorful flashing lights of the room made them hard to see sometimes, though. Not that you cared.

Eventually, Josh and the three other boys got up and moved away from the couch— emptying the line of sight from you to Ellie. She caught your gaze before you could look away, and smiled that stupid cocky smile she always did.

“Need somethin’ princess?” Ellie questioned as she scooted to the seat closest to the edge you stood closest to. The name made you clench your fist tightly around the cup in your hands. She had adopted this nickname for you after commenting about 1200 times how you dressed and acted at these parties. ‘Stuck up princess’ she had called you after one particular comment. It stuck after that.

“Nope,” you popped the P, sipping at the vodka in your cup and refusing to meet her eyes again.

“You were staring.”

“Was not, you got my attention by being obnoxiously loud,” you bit back.

Ellie held her hands up in surrender, “Whatever you say.”

You scoffed, turning your nose up and looking at the center of the party again. Mentally you counted your friend group and where they all were in the crowd. One finger came to press a strand of hair back into your hairdo, and then press a hand to smooth your shirt. You just wanted to get through the next hour or two and get home to study.

You can hear the flick of a lighter next to you, and bite back a sigh. Ellie had been sitting here all of five minutes and had already resorted to smoking. Unsurprisingly.

When the smell soon invades the small space between you, and that flame of annoyance in your belly grows to a small blaze.

At first you ignore it, sniffing and rubbing your nose like it would make the smell disappear. You glance around the room, eyeing some particularly loud and annoying men who were whooping and hollering. Soon though, the smell became too much. You turned to face the couch.

“Ugh,” you make a noise of disgust, loud enough for Ellie to turn her head to you. You pair the sound with a (very dramatic) scrunched up nose. “You smell horrible.”

Ellie smiles in a lazy sort of way, legs spread comfortably on the couch and head leaned slightly to look at you. She makes it a point to blow the next puff from the joint straight at you— enjoying the way your hands come to swat away the smoke like it was poison. “S’ just weed princess.. can't hurt you.”

Your arms cross, and Ellie watches as they press against the pretty baby blue lace shirt you're wearing.. too clean, too soft for a party like this. “It can make me stink though, like I already pointed out. Some of us care about things like personal hygiene, Williams,” you argue, to which she whistles, adding a quiet, “damn, low blow..”

She sits up straighter, leaning forward to inspect you. Seeing the pretty skirt that falls to your mid thigh— Ellie doesn’t doubt even for a moment that the white fabric caught lingering stares of every horny drunk college boy in the room when you walked in with your group.

But here you were, choosing to insult her instead of entertaining a single one of them.

“What's the reason for stick up your ass tonight?�� She asks, making your eyes roll.

“Oh screw you, I’m acting perfectly reasonably.”

Ellie actually laughed at that, loudly enough to make you turn your head in embarrassment. “The way you act with me is never reasonable actually, but tonight is extra bad. You look stiffer and didn’t even attempt to be civil.”

It annoyed you even more that she noticed the stress radiating off of you so easily. She always could— it made her even better at pulling on the threads of you that made you most annoyed. She knew how to get a rise out of you.

“It's absolutely none of your business, Ellie,” you snap. Maybe it was a little harsh for such a simple question, but the auburn haired girl beside you got that out of you easily.

“God, would it kill you to be a little less bitchy for one night?” her green eyes narrowed in at you and she took another puff of the joint. Your eyes followed as she tilted her head up to the ceiling to blow out the smoke.

“Fuck you,” you mumble.

“Fuck you too, princess.”

There's a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, lights flashing now between a deep blue and green. The toe of your shoe tapped into the wood of the floor, the repeated motion serving as a distraction from the annoyance that Ellie caused. Your mind falls back to the exams you have to study for tonight.

The distraction quickly ends when the voice you had come to recognize anywhere popped up again. “Can you chill out? I can hear your shoe tapping from here.”

You huff, biting the inside of your cheek. “Can you shut the hell up? Go back to your joint and leave me alone.”

Ellie just scoffs, mumbling something about you needing the smoke more than her.

You ignore it, but can't deny how your mind wanders to the comment. What would it be like to smoke? Would it take the edge off like everyone said? You had only tried once or twice before.. both at a small get together where you ended up having to sober up quickly to care for your drunken friends.

“Seriously,” Ellie says a bit louder. “Come sit and have a smoke.”

“Excuse me?” you look at her like she had suggested the two of you take your clothes off mid party. Or she had suddenly grown two heads. It would offend her, the clear disgust— if she didn’t know you so well.

“There's a huge group of drunk guys walking over right now-“ she pointed with one of her fingers to where they were passing some game of beer pong. “If you stay there you’ll just get more pissed off and strung up when they bump into you and shit.”

You eye the group, slightly annoyed that Ellie was again right about how you would react. You glance then at the couch, at the weird dark stain and uncomfortable looking material. “I'm not smoking. But if you want me to sit? Take off your sweatshirt.”

Now it was Ellie’s turn to ask, “Excuse me?”

You make a face at her, pointing to the gross couch. “I’m not sitting on that nasty couch. If you want me to sit? take off your sweatshirt and let me use that.”

You know it's a bratty request, and neither you or Ellie look away from each other for a moment, not knowing who was going to make the first move. You almost regret it, and then Ellie reaches to the bottom of her sweatshirt.

It sends some sort of shockwave through you when she pulls the material over her head. You convince yourself it's because you feel like you have won, gotten your way over the girl you hated. Definitely not because her undershirt rode up for a moment, or that her sleeve tattoo was now on display.

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” she says in a exasperated tone, but still lays the sweatshirt across the seat on next to her on the couch.

You smile sarcastically, “Mhm, thanks,” you move to the front of the couch, holding your skirt down as you sit on top of her sweater and press forward, sitting straight up so the back of your shirt doesn't hit the couch. You felt Ellie’s eyes on you, on the very large gap between you. “I can't infect you with something you know?” the auburn haired girl says a bit slowly.

“Haven’t I said it a million times? You smell bad.”

Ellie’s lip quirk into a smile and she doesn’t reply, placing the joint between her lips again and lighting it for another drag.

Just like she described, the group of college boys clambered over to the drink table, invading the corner you were just standing in to shout loudly and put the bottles wildly into cups. You cringe, shifting in your seat. You wouldn’t admit it, but you were glad Ellie had asked you to sit now.

The two of you didn’t talk, for a moment you watch Ellie’s freckled cheeks suck in slightly as she takes a drag, and watch her lips part to blow it out. Unable to tear your eyes away until a new voice comes from in front of you.

“Hey, Y/N right?” Ellie glances up for a split second before going back to looking uninterested in the boy trying to start conversation with you.

“Yep,” you answer plainly as you look at him. You recognized him in a blurry sort of way. His name started with an L… Lucas.. Leo.. La-

“Im Liam, from the last party,” he explains before you finish your train of thought. “Right, Liam.”

Liam bounces a bit on his heels, which embarrasses you. You fight the urge to curl your lip at the sight. “I was wondering if you wanted to go chill with a few of my friends and girls from your sorority upstairs? We’re gonna smoke and play games like seven minutes in heaven.”

Beside you it feels like someone has stiffened, but you ignore it. You let your face drop to look even more uninterested. “Seven minutes in heaven? Really? What are we? Fifteen?”

Liam flushes, clearing his throat to talk again. You just shake your head to stop him. “I don't smoke either so no thank you, Liam. Im good.”

The boy slumps a little. “Right. Maybe next time,” and then he turns on his heel and walks off.. looking like a dog with its tail between their legs.

Ellie chuckles, making that fire come back to your belly. You turn quickly— eyeing her. “What's funny, Williams?”

“He totally wanted to fuck you,” Ellie shrugs, watching until Liam disappears up the stairs.

You try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, picking at your painted nails to keep the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Fuck off.”

“Trust me, I know these guys. Every party one of them tries to get in your pants, and you turn them down every single time.”

Ellie looks smug as she says it— and you want to wipe the look off her fucking face. Acting like she knew something, like she could tell you more about what was happening than you could.

“You don’t know shit Ellie,” you argue, unable to bite back the slightly misplaced anger anymore, leaning forward. “Why do you even care? Are you obsessed with me or something? Not everyone wants to fuck everything that walks.”

The words have a bite to them, bitter on your tongue. Your chest’s rise and fall is speeding up as you finish speaking. You watch as Ellie’s eyes get darker in the light, the flashing lights stop into a solid red as some song with the color name begins.

“And why do you care who I fuck? hm? Maybe you do need to get laid by one of those guy’s falling all over you. Might make you a little less of a strung up bitch,” Ellie’s voice is harder now, aiming to displease you more so than before.

It works, the flame in you spilling over to a whole fucking house fire at the comment. Your hand instinctively grips your cup, reaches forward and dumps it all over Ellie’s chest.

Silence follows, and you immediately regret it.. knowing you took it too far. This quiet is uncomfortable enough to make you squirm, pressing further away from the wet patch growing on the cushion. Ellie looks at her shirt, very slowly raising her head to look dead at you.

“Get up.” It's not a question when she says it, harsher tone than she had ever used with you.

For once, you don’t immediately bite back. “Wha-“

“Get up. You just fucking dumped your drink on me, you can help me fix it,” Ellie demands again. She puts out the joint on the table nearby, messy enough to make you cringe.

You can't tell how red her face is because of the lights.. but you are sure she is fuming. The way she is stiff and slow with her movements to stand a clue enough.

That’s why you don't fight to scramble to your feet after her when she starts walking. Your fingers grip at the sweatshirt under you, holding it in your hand as she pushes past people to get to a room nearby. You follow quickly behind— watching curious eyes follow you chasing after the other. The red lights hide the growing blush on your cheeks, the music pounding in tandem with your heart.

When she pushes open a door, you squeeze in quickly after her.

Ellie’s tattooed arm reaches to the side of you where the doorknob is, and her fingers move to lock it. You swallow at the proximity, ducking away quickly.

She doesn’t speak as she peels the now wet shirt from her frame— throwing it on the floor near the bed. Your eyes don't look away as she does so. In fact, you can’t tear them away.

Her body is toned, more so than you would have expected. Not that you thought of her shirtless before or anything. Her fingers ghost gently over her own skin, wiping any extra wetness. Your pupils follow the way the digits move.

What doesn’t surprise you however, is the sports bra that lays beneath the shirt. It's snug against her skin, and you watch as she tugs it back into the right place. You watch her breathe, heavy and unsteady, a clear sign she is not exactly calm at the moment.

“You are such a fucking brat, you know that?” Her blazing eyes meet your own— and you almost shrink. This Ellie.. She was different. You are no longer burning with the anger her face usually ignites in you. No, this fire is all different.

“Oh cat got your tongue now, princess? for once you don't have a stuck up comment to make hm?” She steps closer to you, looking down to where her sweatshirt hangs from your fingertips.

“Put my sweatshirt back on me.”

The words make your mouth go slack, finally mustering up the courage to speak. “Fuck off, Ellie.”

“Im serious,” her hair is more messy now, strands falling in front of her face as she stares at you. “You made me take it off for you, so now you can put it back on me. Fair is fair, princess.”

“You can’t be serious,” you scoff, shaking your head at the suggestion.

“You do it or I go out there, tell the frat hosting that you’re a crazy bitch who spilt her drink on me. You and your sorority sisters would get blacklisted from every party before those pretty eyelashes could even blink.”

It's a threat. A threat to your power, the social standing within your group and the general university. A threat to your ego as a whole, the thought you would be the cause of something like that. It also was a quick reminder that no matter what you said to her at these parties, she was the one with the power. You could insult and poke at her all you wanted.. but Ellie was the one with half of the people out in that room down the hallway wrapped around her finger. Her.. business determined that.

You purse your lips, meeting the green eyes staring at you again. It's another fight for power. Seeing who will crack under the tension first. You find yourself noticing the freckles that dust her face again, and a small red mark on her cheek you had not really paid attention to before. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, and you look away in defeat.

Ellie knows she won, stepping even closer to you, enough that you can feel the heat radiating off of her. It does something to you that you wouldn’t like to admit, your knees going ever so slightly weak. She pushes a fallen strand of auburn hair back behind her ear while waiting for your next move.

It comes a second later, shuffling the sweatshirt in your hand to the right position, leaning forward to push the hoodie part over Ellie’s head, fingers shaking when they brush against her bare shoulder. You can't admit to yourself that it isn’t because of some annoyance that you were reacting like this. She helps a bit when you drag the sweatshirt down her chest by pushing her arms through the sleeves.

When it's finished, you both linger for a moment, your nails still near her waistline. It only ends when she steps back, gaze still set on you.

“You gonna say sorry?” she asks, eyebrow raising expectantly.

You shake your head. “Fuck. Off.”

Ellie tsks, watching your every movement. She didn’t ignore how your eyes had been all over her tonight, how you couldn’t look away when her shirt was off. And god, what would be a better way to win whatever this was than taking what she wanted from you.

“Cmon, you know I was right about what I said,” she steps around you and then forward, smiling as you continue to back away everytime she gets closer. when the back of your leg hits the bed, you stop. “You do need to get fucked, might make you a little less miserable to be around.”

Her voice has fallen more quiet, a little something new to the way she spoke.

“But you don’t want one of those dicks outside to do it, do you?” it's accusatory when it's said, enough to make you realize where this conversation was going.

God, you would never admit it out loud. not even to yourself. Everytime you avoided a guy’s advance to instead bicker with Ellie all night. The times you insulted her about something because it made you warm all over, like a certain hairstyle or shirt. You blamed her a lot for annoying you, for those jokes she makes— for how she bothers you. But in honesty, you just hated that you couldn’t look away. Not from her face, her hands, the way she smokes, or spreads her legs open when she sits. It’s absolutely infuriating how much you think of her. But you had always kept it deep enough to not think about it until she brought it up herself.

“No, that's why you always turn them down.. why you always look at me after you do. God, you don't even realize it do you?” A shocked sort of chuckle escaped her lips, like she couldn’t believe this realization either. Her finger moves to a strand of your hair that must have fallen while you chased after her.

“You want me. You want me to fuck you, don’t you princess? That's why you are always such a little priss, isn't it. Get you so hot and bothered you just can't help but be mean?”

When you don't answer, Ellie reaches forward quickly to grab your wrist, gaining your attention. “Answer me.”

“No- I don’t fucking want you Ellie,” you choke it out, like it burned your throat to say. It was worse than a shot of whatever they had outside this door.

“If you don’t want me, then walk away right now. But this is your only chance. No more after this. You can't get one of those asshole frat guys instead. No more entertaining the little arguments you start. No more ignoring when you stare at m-“

You can't even let her finish her words before you crash forward, meeting her lips in an immediately messy kiss. She swears against your lips before dropping your wrist, arms instead moving to your hips, pressing you flush against her body. You want to pull away, regain the control you so desperately cling to— want to run off and out of the party.

But once the kiss deepens, once her tongue swipes against your lips.. you’re a goner.

You whimper when she bites your bottom lip harshly, and she swallows the sound with another burning kiss. You pull her to fall back onto the bed with you, and she immediately manhandles you further onto the bed, taking position over you and not apologizing when your head slams roughly into the headboard.

“Asshole,” you whine, she digs her fingers into your hip to shut you up as her teeth drag down to your neck, wet kisses and small bites pressing there until she finds the spot that makes you shiver, hand slapping against her arm, pretty nails pressing into the skin.

She bites harder, pulling a louder yell from you. She then sucks over the spot, soothing it with another swipe of her tongue. The throbbing feeling will no doubt result in a mark— and Ellie seems to know exactly that.

“Everyone’s gonna know,” she mumbles against your skin as she sucks another spot, controlling your hips with one hand when they try to buck up.

“All those other girls are gonna know when you wake up with these littered all over your neck tomorrow-“ another bite. “Gonna know what happened, what the perfect little sorority girl did with me.”

The comment draws another noise from you, and the heat pools between your legs, embarrassingly turned on by the thought of that humiliation sure to follow walking out of this room later. You can feel your panties going damp when she doesn’t let up the assault on your neck and collarbone.

You can smell the weed on her when her head dips closer to you again, and for once you don’t mind it. You meet her lips, shaky hand still gripping at the inked skin of her arm.

She's so controlled in her movements, enjoying how you are already a squirmy mess, enjoying how she has control. It's nothing like the Ellie she was in public, loud and joking. No, she was completely serious and calculated with every single swipe of her finger, every movement of her lips. One hand roughly goes to your chest, pushing up your shirt above your breasts, not bothering to even do the kindness of taking it off all the way.

“Mm, no bra?” Ellie questions mockingly, pulling back from your wet lips— acting like she hadn’t noticed the lack of one the moment you turned to face her at this damn party.

You shake your head, reduced to little words.

Ellie watches you carefully, at your puffy lips, at the way your perfect hair is now falling in chunks against the pillow. God, what a sight. You, untouchable and pristine.. reduced to being fucked on a stranger’s bed in a frat house. By her.

“Want me to touch you here?” she questions, fingers ghosting over your nipples.. smiling when they pebble at the softest touch. Your back arches, searching for more skin to skin as you nod quickly.

“Nuh Uh- words, princess, need you to say it.”

You glance at her, one side of you fighting against this feeling of submission you can feel yourself falling into. In an act of defiance, your hand comes up and over her larger one, pressing it down against the skin of your breast, breathing out a moan instead of answering her question.

This however was a bad idea, and she immediately pulls completely back, quick to grab your face harshly between her palm. “You fucking brat,” Ellie seeths, your lips pressing open just slightly at how hard she is pressing her hand. The roughness only makes you wetter, and you attempt to squeeze your thighs together for some sort of friction.. but Ellie is faster, slotting a knee in between your legs as she looks down at you, free arm holding herself up.

“No, you don’t get anything from me, no relief for that throbbing feeling you have im sure,” she says it so cockily that you think you may melt into the sheets beneath you. “Not till you admit you want me. Admit you want me to touch you.”

Your face burns a bright red, angry and embarrassed at the same time. You tried to avoid this admittance, ready to die on the hill to protect your already bruised ego.

But then Ellie moves her knee slightly, a shock goes straight through your core. Even the smallest movement had you trying to push down against her needily. She squeezes your face harder. “Just say it, I can make you feel so much better if you just admit it.”

The line your dignity was tiptoeing on is fraying, taken over by the bowling ball amount of weight from the desire in your stomach. The second her knee moves again, the string breaks.

“Please,” you beg, watching as Ellie’s eyes light up at the words, “Ellie I want you to touch me.”

Ellie smiles, reveling in how embarrassed you look. “Where baby?”

You suck in a breath, too far gone to keep fighting, “my pussy, please, please Ellie.. need you to.”

You’re squirming all over now, whining and feeling your throat tighten. Your lip gloss is all over your (and Ellie’s for that matter) chin, and your shirt is still just pushed over your chest. It makes Ellie shake her head. “God, you look pathetic. What happened to you hm? Where’s that put together girl you love to brag about being?”

Any words to snap back die in your throat, her mean tone is making your mind too foggy. The way you are totally at the mercy of her body, of the way she talks to you.. It’s addicting. The feeling of letting go of that control and power you hold so tightly onto.. It's almost as good as the sensation of her knee starting to move more regularly against your center.

“You look like a whore,” she laughed meanly. You are sure it’s true, your skirt is falling down, your hair has snapped out of its tie. Her hand lets go of your chin, and you move your mouth slightly at the soreness. The freedom is short- lived however, and two fingers are tapping your cheek soon after.

“Open,” Ellie says, smiling when you do so immediately. “See, it's not hard to be a good girl.”

She sinks the two fingers into your waiting mouth, one quick demand to, “Suck,” is all you need to close your mouth around them.

You aren’t careful about it, drool seeping out the corner of your mouth when she starts thrusting the fingers in and out slightly, watching in amusement as she curls her long fingers slightly, making you gag. “So fucking messy,” she mumbles.

Her pupils are just as blown out as yours when she speaks again, pulling her fingers out after deeming they were wet enough. A line of spit follows, connecting to your lips.

She wipes the excess across your face, furthering that deep embarrassment that builds in you. “‘m gonna fuck you now, princess.”

She says it as she makes you sit up with her on the bed, arm pulling to set you up how she wanted, knees tucked under your thighs on each side of her lap. You let her push and tug you around— fully dumbed out for her at this point. Desperate for some relief.

her fingers play with your skirt for a moment, and you both watch intently as they disappear under it. You push into her, earning a quick look. “Be good,” the girl demands.

You stop your movements, mumbling something Ellie can't understand. The pad of her finger slides over your clothed slit— humming at the wet feeling.

“You’re fucking soaked,” she shook her head, “All from what? Cause I was mean to you? Just from my knee, baby? How pathetic.”

Another whine rips from your throat, head falling to her shoulder. She shrugs it to force your head up again. “Want ya to look at me while I do this,” she explains— green eyes now mostly black as they meet your own. You nod, trying to please her enough for the next move.

“Atta girl..” she praises.

Your panties are pushed to the side as she sinks a singular finger into you— both of you moaning at the feeling. You’re so warm and tight around her that she gets dizzy, a warmth pooling in between her own legs. But tonight, It was about you. It was about proving who had the control here.. who could make you feel so good.

“Fuck,” you blubber, not getting a chance to savor the feeling before shes moving it in and out quickly, and then she is adding another finger.. and a minute after that, another. It's stretching you so well, so perfectly that you swear you could come right there. But you don’t, eyes set on her own— a hard look on her face as she watches your reactions. She leans closer, wanting to hear every little breath, every whimper.

“What would they think, hm?” Ellie huffs, pressing further into you. “All those frat boys who eye you up at every party,” she adds with a particularly hard thrust. “What do you think they would say if they found out it was me you got up that pretty little skirt first?” She whispers against your ear. Each word is emphasized with a press of her fingers, each rougher.. deeper, than the last.

You can feel your cheeks burning, and you blink away the tears welling in your eyes. You can't help the reaction— it's too much. She’s too much. The feeling is stealing all coherent words and thoughts from your mind— making you a teary and whining mess.

It made a fire flick in Ellie’s lower stomach— knowing she was the cause of pristine, pretty, perfect you— looking so messy. So fucked out. All from just her fingers. From her words.

“Too dumb to answer?” she teases, “too drunk on my fingers to even say anything?”

You shake your head like it isn’t true, and she slows her hand. You shake, trying to thrust yourself down onto them.

“Tell me then princess, tell me none of them could fuck you like this. No one could get you this fucking pathetic other than me.”

Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks now, lip quivering as you search for more friction. “Please, please el,” you cry, “No one else no one else, just you-“

All of your words slur together, and your nails dig into Ellie’s shoulder enough to make her hiss. The answer seems good enough, and she resumes her quick and harsh movements, fingers curling to hit that spot that made your mouth fall open, tears dripping past your lips.

“Fuck yea, only me,” she groans, your words pushing her to make you come even more now, thumb rubbing against your clit. It coaxes downright pornographic noises from you. Ones that someone had to have heard. You don’t give a fuck though, not right now.

“M’ gonna come,” you whine, face falling to Ellie’s shoulder again, pressing your nose into the crook of her neck. This time Ellie allows it— too focused on the wet sounds of her fingers moving in and out of you under the now ruined skirt.

“Alright baby, you can come,” Ellie coos— finally showing a bit of kindness to you as you clench around her fingers. “Come for me, princess.”

The cord in your stomach snaps, and you have to bite at Ellie’s neck to stop from screaming. The orgasm hits you like a fucking train, shaking harshly.

Ellie works you through it, mumbling compliments against you. “So pretty, so messy and perfect for me,” she hums. When she is sure you have calmed down enough, she slowly pulls her fingers out, and then lays you back against the bed. You sink into the mattress, cheeks red and wet with tears. She admires you, messy fingers pressing to her own lips to get a taste. The flavor of you, god Ellie thinks she may be addicted. She sucks her fingers clean and for a moment debates ringing another orgasm out of you with her tongue. But the look on your face, how tired you look.. she decides to save it for another time.

For now she stands, searching around until she finds the attached bathroom, disappearing into it.

Your eyes search for her, feeling needy. “El-“ you whimper.

“I'm just getting a rag to clean you up baby,” she explains from the open door— and you relax when she walks back out with a warm small rag.

She joined you back on the bed, coaxing your legs open as she very carefully cleans you off. The friction makes more tears drop from your eyes.

“Aw princess,” she pouts— wiping with her other hand to get the tears off of your cheek and drool off your chin. “So pathetic looking.. so pretty.”

The switch between praise and degradation makes you dizzy again, eyes closing for a second.

When shes done cleaning you up, you grab her wrist when she tries to stand. “ w’nna make you feel good el,” you beg. It takes Ellie a moment to match your whiny voice to that of the girl she knew outside of this bedroom, but when she comes back to reality— she shakes her head.

“Later baby, promise. You’re too tired, wanna get you back to your place.”

The promise to not just abandon after this makes your heart twist in your chest, that cold front that Ellie put on while fucking you straying away now.

You nod, letting Ellie help you sit up.

“Ready to walk through that door?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.

A tired laugh bubbles in your throat just at the thought, cheeks hot all over again.

“Yea. Yea, I’ll just say we got into a fist fight.”

“Fucking brat.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #tlou2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams smut

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glokyo · 3 months

Text

18+. (slight smut.. don’t be scared.)

Whenever you got around Suguru, its like you can’t contain your femininity. Whiny, pouting, acting all pathetic, being a crybaby. It’s nothing Suguru doesn’t love because he knows, at the end of the day, he’s the only thing that can contain his wife.

You don’t even have to use that pretty head of yours whenever he’s around, let the man handle it as he does best. And he does, every-single-time.

Suguru took on a modeling career a year back and has been doing great ever since. The money that comes with it—was beautiful— and the pictures? If you could keep every picture of him in a box and lock it away, you would.

Recently, a new model has emerged. People call her Angel face. Her features were model worthy, beautiful cheekbones, tan skin, freckles, and long.. long dark shiny hair. She was perfect. You’d hate to admit it but you couldn’t help getting jealous seeing her around your man. Call it bitchy or bitter but she has nothing on you apart from being eye-candy.

He was out all day, working with that girl. You being on your phone, eating and cleaning.. just simply out of boredom. The moment Suguru entered those doors, all hell broke loose.

“It’s not true, baby. I can assure you I wouldn’t do a thing like that.” He reassured you, his voice deep and smooth. He held you by your waist, pressing feather light kisses along your neck. He wouldn’t doubt your love for a second.

The news filled with gossips that Geto and another famous model, Anaine, were both dating. Looking at the pictures, it would’ve probably be seen that way since Geto took his ring off for those pictures.. obviously deeply regretted.

But you and him both knew it wasn’t true. He was married to you; his highschool sweetheart. These stupid rumors kept circulating and it was surely because Anaine was fueling them. Basking in the attention at Getos expense.

You threw a fit, which is an understatement. Your pretty head not being used for anything but asking and complaining that you so much as overreacted; thinking Geto took his ring off purposefully just to get attention… perhaps, for another woman.

Geto sighed, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, your arms wrapped around your chest, trying so desperately to make that innocent face intimidating. “You know I don’t want anyone but you, my love. You’re all I need. There’s nothing or nobody that can compare nor replace you. No-body.” He emphasizes on his last word with a tiny bite to your neck, sliding his lips up to your ear, flattening his tongue against your lobe, tongue piercing sliding against the skin, making you huff. His hands slide down your body, your waist, and to your ass, gripping firmly.

“Should I remind you how.. fuckin.. perfect y’re?… Fuck y’right here… treat you s’ sweet and fuck you s’ good?…” He mumbles against your ear, lazily grinding against your front. You mumble nothings, already out your whiny little head. You drop your hands to his biceps, fluttering your eyes shut. “Look at me.” Suguru demands, voice quiet yet so deep. You bid, not missing a beat. Beading those big doe eyes, batting those long pretty lashes.

“It’s you I live for. Say the word… you deserve whatever your palms touch.”

note: first blog🫣 so nervyyyyyyy. hope this reaches the right audience, if it does, boost for more if you like it🩷🩷🩷✨😛

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wroteclassicaly · 3 months

Note

Girl. Gator. Plus size girl. Blurb. Go!

Lol. I just love the way you utilize details and I need this mans hands on me in the worst way rn. Lol. MAYBE somewhere where we could get caught😈

Oooooh, you’re speaking right to my soul 😭

~*~

Warnings: Language, smut, Gator acts like his jerky, bitchy, temper tantrum throwing, misogynistic, toxic self. Body positive, plus size reader with large breasts, hidden hookups, spit, some titty play, vaginal fingering, jealous and possessive Gator, slightly mean reader, degrading kink, praise kink mention, filthy talk, mean Gator, dominant reader/dominant Gator, public smut, getting caught, and NSFW.

Pairings: Gator Tillman x Plus Size Female Reader

Wordcount: 2,043

A/N: Really love working on exploring Gator with a bigger girlie, because in the Midwest, his options would’ve been a lot of big women. Sooooo, yeah. ;) Note that this is not some fluffy Gator. Man is gonna be mean and nasty as hell, so be warned (he’s cornered with his feelings and he doesn’t like that shit)!

~*~

He really cannot fucking believe this. You actually have the nerve to show up where you know that he will be, dressed like this, acting as if you didn’t want him to call you the second that you got back into town (Because WHEN the fuck did you get back? And why didn’t you call him?). A calloused trigger finger massaged off leftover condensation, nothing but mere drops of amber liquid left over in his glass. He feels like a snarling, raging beast, a fucking embarrassment.

And you simply tuck your handbag into your armpit, situating the end of a very tight black dress, one that slices into a cutoff at your cleavage, the swells of your goods leaving little to the imagination. Stupid bitch. Those are his tits. Besides, since when do you care about what you wear out when you rarely come to bars or club joints around town, anyways…? Your makeup is dark, like wafts of smoke, shimmering on your lid, lips lined a deep blood red, something else you never do around him, either.

Okay, so he’s not good enough to try all of your tricks on?

He’s got that familiar clench starting in his toes, licking his muscles with electricity, pushing on his ribcage, digging painfully into his internal organs to do something. You wave at a couple of local girls, but you don’t join them at a table, no. You head directly to some punk faced fuck in tight jeans and cowboy boots, a cigarette in one hand, a beer in the other. Gator’s eyes widen so hard that the muscles protest in stroking stings, his fist clenching over his thigh, knuckles white, taunt flesh wrapped shakily around his glass. He lets it go before it shatters.

A date. A fucking, motherfucking date.

You couldn’t call him, didn’t text him (embarrassing how much he refreshed your thread, honestly), but you bitch about secrecy. And this is what he gets for staying sober from the pussy he could be getting? Nah, he’s not gonna be shown up by some slut that should be grateful he gives her attention at all, and definitely not with this fucking pencil dick of a man, whose joke you’re pathetically giggling at. Abandoning his glass, Gator is walking his way on a sticky bar floor, passing your backside to slam his hands on your table and let out a hysterical chuckle.

“Well, bust my balls. What’s so funny over here, huh?”

Gator takes a mental backflip for points as your eyes widen and you look like you’ve dove into the pools of humiliation. Your date, for lack of better word - he’s trying to figure out what’s going on, but Gator doesn’t let him get in a word. Crowding in front of his space, he’s in your airspace now, reaching down to find your date’s drink, lips wrapping at the bottle’s end as he sips and lets out a snort. “Lightweight.”

“Gator…” You warn, reaching out to attempt to grab his wrist. He shrugs you off, shaking his head as he eyes your ensemble, those fucking tits pressed together and spilling over your cleavage’s hem.

“Look at you, honey. All dressed up, not answering your phone. How long you been back for?”

“I’m busy, back the fuck off —“ He’s suddenly very close to you now, nose nearly brushing, actually letting his personal rules slip, your own emotions becoming discombobulated.

You don’t back away, breathing escalating as his hot breath fans along your painted mouth. He’d like to shut that up, keep you full. And you, you cannot keep your eyes off of his tight black shirt, arms bare and tan from the Midwest summer sun — freckles and moles on display. He’s wearing dark jeans, his normal boots, and thigh holster for show. Fuck, he smells good. He knows it too, as he watches your eyes dart across his wet lips.

He simply smirks, reaches down for your drink this time, and brings it to his lips. Straight whiskey. You were here for a purpose, and it’s up to him to redirect it. You watch in wondrous fascination when he drinks down your remaining liquor in a straight shot, his tongue making a show to lick the rim along the glass, before he lets it settle back onto the cheap bar table coaster. He’s taking that air about, every single inch of him away from you before you can blink, one hand rubbing behind his neck, pulling on his chain that’s tucked beneath his collar, knowing the action specifically drives you crazy, the other hand retrieving his vape.

He blows smoke directly above his head, looking between you and Mr. Clueless Cowboy, laughing lightly. He’s pissing you off. “Hope you folks intend to call a car tonight. I’d hate to have to arrest anyone for driving under the influence.”

And he’s gone. Leaving you practically smoking, aching, hurt, and severely pissed. You grab your purse and excuse yourself to the restroom to get your bearings. You should’ve known, however, the second that the door closes behind you — Gator would be too. He doesn’t approach too fast, doesn’t scare you or grab you, he has his own lines not to cross, to respect.

You’re clenching the sink by the time he’s nearly behind you. You’re tired, pent up, but you still manage to speak. “Don’t. I’m getting sick of you and your games.”

“Is that why you didn’t answer me? Think that’s polite —“

You spin around and level your palms to his chest, shoving him back, hard. “You know, I’m the one that should be embarrassed. Your fucking dad, you being his lackey. I should be the one to be afraid to be seen with you, but I’m not.”

Gator perks at the mention of Roy, of his debt towards him just by being born under his namesake. He feels cornered, losing control. “Watch your mouth. I’m not afraid of anything —“

As if you are ignoring his words, you continue. “I want a real man, not some pussy who is afraid to be seen in public with me. You’re a fucking coward, Tillman. You don’t deserve one single inch of me, and I’ve got plenty to go around, baby.”

Now, Gator can lie and say he is further pissed, that he intends to leave and forget you. But your words, how you stand up to him — his cock kicks, slacks becoming less loose. You’ve got the power and you’re more than ready to use it. Leaving your purse in the sink behind you, you stand a few inches from his airspace, your perfume soaking into his senses, making his jaw unhinged with sinful babble. “I bet you’re fuckin’ wet right now.”

You shrug, crossing your arms to purposely accentuate your chest. “Just because I like looking at you, doesn’t mean that I like listening to your mouth run. Pompous, annoying, disgustingly pathetic. And I can’t stand you.”

His brows press together, his pupils blown so far to hell that he’s seething when the words leave his clenched teeth. “One more word, bitch…”

You lick your mouth and smile lowly, tongue practically caressing the words as they drop off. “Fuck. You.”

What happens next is a dizzying array of blurs. The open pipes and exposed beams - clad ceiling passes in your vision as you meet Gator into a chest crushing embrace, pulling when he pushes, the both of you falling onto a stall with your mouths locked. You’re already working your hands into his belt, a grip hard to maintain with how worked up he is. Gator knows just what to do with you, his own hands immediately ripping the fabric of your dress down to expose your perfect breasts. His mouth waters, his hands paused.

He gives you a look, but you’ve already got his hands closing around your tits, encouraging him to squeeze. His knees knock you into the toilet, his mouth smeared with red kisses. His jaw clenches, nose wrinkles, his eyes glazed over as he lets them roam you, palming you, sampling you. You’re his. He needs more, though, his body rampaged, starved for more you.

You can read those thoughts immediately, the same want, a silent communication. “Put your mouth on me.”

He doesn’t waste a second, head tilting, letting you tug it into shambled strands, his lips close over your bud, tongue lapping around your areola, only to give you what you after you start to beg him for teasing. He isn’t phased that you aren’t jerking him, all that he wants right now is get you off, be with you, be around you. He tries to ignore what that realization means, and luckily, you’re rucking your own dress around your waist, his orbs catching a slinky thong as you work it down your curved hips. He briefly stops what he’s doing, groaning in appreciation as your glistening curls are put on display and your beautiful stomach, with stretch marks that his tongue has traced not enough times yet. He’ll have to fix that.

You’re a little quieter after you’re so naked in front of you, despite having been before. He notices this and abandons his focus on your chest to grab you around the waist. His voice is hoarse, exploding into a molten rasp, coated in the warmth of tension, a vulnerability leaving as he pinches your chin to raise your gaze. “You’re too beautiful for him. Too beautiful for me.”

Your reluctance to accept any compliments, especially his, that is automatically clear when you make your statement. “You could’ve gotten plenty pussy with me gone, Gator.”

He’s never felt more like a piece of shit than in this moment, watching as you truly believe that. He inhales sharply, throat tied to it, escaping words evaporating off his tongue’s tip, shared with you. “I missed you,” It’s actually a freeing statement, one that he feels braver saying, continuing. “And I didn’t screw around on you, y’ know.”

You’re looking at him as if you’re made of glass, irises darting back and forth. He can’t decipher his anticipations, but you save him. “I missed you too. But I had to draw a line, Gator…”

“I know.” He’s resolved to it.

He’s ready to back off, praying it’s not too late. You grasp his wrist, lifting it directly beneath your mouth, and he’s sure he blurts a little in his boxers the moment that your spit settles into his palm. He’s cursing, panting, rocking onto his heels as you lead him between your legs, spreading them, separating two of his fingers, taking them into your warm cunt. His hand tightens on your overflowing waist, fingers instinctively beginning to fuck you, enjoying the devious squelch that echoes. You become more handsy as the minutes pass, eagerly seeking out his chain from his collar to hold onto, rocking against his wrist, bouncing yourself on his fingers — taking what you want.

Gator assists by leaning to lick your nipple into his mouth, letting you hold tightly to his hair, suffocated by your moans and the scent of you. Neither of you hear your date enter the bathroom, not until he’s by the stall and speaking. He doesn’t get the hint, maybe he’ll go away? You don’t want to stop and reject the idea of Gator taking his hand away, leaving his hair, and holding onto his wrist tighter. You give zero fucks if he can hear what you’re doing in here, but he probably thinks Gator makes fun of you —

Your insecurities are tangled into a trap the second that Gator kicks the door open with his boot to give your date an eyeful. Publicly. His eyes widen, posture stiffening, you gasping. Gator adds in a third finger and your legs wobble, making you toss your head back and fuck yourself harder, inner thighs a soaking mess, forgetting everything but the pleasure that you deserve. Your ears are ringing static, a creamy wetness all that can be heard beneath your pleading breaths, uncaring what’s going to happen after, needing to get there NOW.

Gator makes his claim, a lazy little smirk quirking in the corners of his stained mouth. “Be safe on the road, bud.”

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ryuluvr · 10 months

Text

twilight temptations

— wlw, rich!ryujin x stripper!reader, nsfw/nsft smut

you’re a stripper at the ‘starlight lounge’ and notice ryujin’s hungry gaze on you during your set. will she approach you for a chat or even more private services?

warnings: intentional all lower case, dom!ryu, possible ceo!ryu, kinda mean!ryu, sub!reader, humiliation, fingering, public sex, squirting, degradation, some praise. slight slapping (not on face, just body), no aftercare.

word count: 2.3k

“yeah, i wanna know what its like,

baby, show me what it’s like.”

you follow the melody with your feet before your hips, swaying them in a figure of eight as you slide down the pole. one hand is on the pole above your head, the other being slowly dragged down your body, just about ending by your covered core. you naturally scanned the crowd you had gathered for any tippers. it doesn’t usually take long to rack up some money; you’re up there with the best at the starlight lounge, your popularity soaring with each performance. the club is dimly lit, hues of reds and pinks highlighting the bar and dancers to avert everyones gaze accordingly. high end is one way to describe this place. for a strip club its most certainly on the more expensive end of the spectrum — plush seating, wine red velvet drapes, and large mirrors adorning the place.

you’re widely known for being the cocky, almost bitchy personality amongst all the performers here. but of course, that’s the complete opposite of who you really are, but somehow men dig women that would rather die than give them the time of day. you are performing at the end of the day. approximately three songs on your playlist come to an end when you notice the money piling up on the main stage. you definitely have enough for both your apartment bills and your next set of acrylic nails.

‘gentrify by da vosk docta’ begins to fill the room when you notice a woman leaving the bar and setting her eyes on you. surprisingly enough she walks to your stage, blatantly ignoring the others close by. your eyes remain firm on her as she makes herself comfy in one of the seats with a cute little table beside it, setting down her drink of what looks like vodka and lemonade. the woman’s gaze is cold yet hungry, and it’s almost as if you’re trying to catch her blinking. shooting her a slight smirk felt like the right thing to do before continuing the performance, her eyes almost burning into your skin.

you quickly notice her leaning closer to the stage with money between two fingers, wafting it slightly to get your attention. you quickly lean down and begin to seductively crawl on your hands and knees towards her, pressing your breasts together with your arms as you move. as if to keep up your fake act you reach up to snatch the money out of her hand but she only snaps her hand back faster than you can blink. you’re certain you heard her over the music tut at you, and she only lets you take the money after mouthing ‘sorry.’

you roughly shove the money down your bra just enough to keep it safe until your performance is over, teasingly pushing up your tits a couple times. no matter who came forward, this random woman stood out above them all. your flirtatious move only makes a smirk naturally appear on her face, noticing her adjust herself in her seat. as you lick your soft lips, you kneel down in front of the pole and slowly run your hands up your body towards your hair. you need to put a show on for this mysterious women.. there’s just something about her which undoubtedly turns you on, despite how unprofessional that is. maybe its her vibe or the suit she’s wearing- or honestly just everything. you’re minutes away from your dance ending so you simply couldn’t care less. this woman just tripled your income as if it was nothing.

“ah, already?” you think to yourself as the last song comes to an end, playfully shooting a shooing motion to the crowd like they’d expect from your character before collecting the rest of your money and walking off stage. you moved your hips like a model while you stepped towards the dressing room backstage, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you collapsed on a spare black lounger against the wall. the next girl to replace you was blonde and just as feminine as you, waving her off and untucking all the bills from the hems of your outfit. (which is probably as skimpy as it gets before it crosses a line.)

“how much?” the slightly deep voice practically echoes around the room after a minute of pure silence, the sound of a door clicking shut following it. your head shoots up, your eyes now set on the woman from the crowd. you don’t want to be rude, but she simply cannot be back here. “for what?”

“lap dance.” her response was as blunt as it gets, her gaze somehow even more hungry than before. although, you can’t blame her, you did go the extra mile to impress her tonight. followed by your head tilting to one side was a sudden frown, deeply inhaling before speaking.

“it’s usually $50 for 15 minutes. well- that’s what i’ve heard…” you’re never given one before, but that doesn’t mean people haven’t asked. it’s always gross men that would be happy with any woman here so getting out of it is light work. the woman only nods in response, swinging the door back open and holding it for you. not wanting to lose her during such a busy hour, you lightly grip her wrist and lead her towards the room made for these types of activities. there’s multiple lined up to one side of the building, all of which closed off with sliding doors for privacy, thank god.

the woman in the suit takes no time to sit down, leaning back before adjusting herself in her seat like before, manspreading like she owned the place. she seems like she could afford it, anyways. it’s always the same playlist that surrounds the lap dance booths, anyone inside luckily unable to hear the booming music from the main rooms outside. at least you can actually hear each others voices in here.

you begin your routine you most definitely made up on the spot, letting your bra straps fall below your shoulders as you turn your back to her, your ass now hovering over her lap. you begin swaying while simultaneously bending forward until you feel a firm grip on your hips which immediately make you freeze. with zero hesitation the woman pushes you down onto her, her nails digging into your skin so hard there’s no way it won’t leave a mark for a while.

“hey- you’re not allowed to touch, okay?” you yelp, trying to resist but failing. this woman is way too strong for you, you can’t even comprehend it. god she’s so hot, but this is so wrong… you could easily get fired for this if someone sees.

“i couldn’t help myself. look at you.” theres no way she’s being serious right now. your head immediately turns to look at her but being in your peripheral will have to do for now. the feeling of her hands on your bare skin is more than you’ve felt from anyone in a long, long time, and it’s driving you crazy. so simple yet so effective. you part your lips once more to start off your response with a shaky sigh, your hands resting on her thighs to support yourself the best you could. “alright, this is fine… but nothing else.” how weak, you can’t even keep to the rules for the first woman to put her skin against yours. tut tut.

“so, this isn’t fine?” her voice trails off at the end, jumping slightly when you feel her cold hands make their way up your body to cup your breasts. you don’t even know what to say at this point, your mind has turned foggy within seconds and theres no reversing it. “come on, pretty girl.” you squeeze your legs close due to the name she called you and your head drops, feeling a million things alongside both arousal and embarrassment in this moment. “i dont even know your name.”

“shin ryujin, baby.” her voice is now lower than before, her hot breath against the back of your neck making you shiver. naturally you give her your name in response but she squeezes your tits to cut your sentence short, claiming she knows who you are because shes been watching you from afar for days without you knowing. a soft whimper fills the room due to ryujin’s touch, a deep pink shade immediately flushing over your cheeks in embarrassment. once you feel her lips pressing sloppy kisses to your back and shoulders, you don’t even try to fight her undoing your bra, letting it fall to the ground with ease.

you decide to lean back into her and closely watch her dominant hand make her way to your core. teasingly, she runs her index finger across your clit from over your panties as light as possible, naturally making you buck up your hips as if to search for more friction. she continues to run light circles around it while taking one of your nipples between her thumb and finger with her free hand, your breathing hitching in response. you want to protest that this is wrong but it just feels too good to stop. you both want this.

“ryujin, please-“ you keep your voice as quiet as a whisper despite the room being soundproof, knowing you either need to stop this now or make it as quick as possible to refrain from someone coming to look for you. ryujin only hums in response, now twisting your nipple while pushing your panties to one side, the cold air against your pussy making you hiss. her fingers tease your entrance for a few moments, afterwards bringing up her hand to show you the string of your slick attached, a dark chuckle leaving ryujin’s lips.

“so wet for me already, baby.” she growled into your ear, slapping at your tit before sliding one finger into your entrance without any warning, making you audibly gasp and melt into her, a string of curse words escaping your lips already.

ryujin licked a strip up your neck with her tongue, now beginning to pump her fingers in and out of your aching cunt, not giving you a single second to adjust to it. as her pace increases the palm of her hand slaps against your clit, making you whine out loud in pleasure. “fuck- oh my god!” it’s not long until a second finger is added, your sweet noises shamelessly filling the room. ryujin groans the second she feels you clench around her fingers, not expecting you to get so close so soon but she honestly finds it cute.

“oh baby, you’re so needy..” the woman purs against your ear as she notices you begin to squirm on top of her, whining once more at her tone. her lips curl up against your soft skin, lightly laughing once she realises its most likely been over the 15 minute time slot. “wouldn’t it be a shame if someone walked in right now?” ryujin began to speak between your high pitched moans, “they’d see how much of a slut you are, huh?” you can only whine and tense up in response, a nod quickly following. whatever ryujin said or wanted you were eager to agree and oblige — everything about this was just so unbelievably hot you couldn’t hold yourself back whatsoever.

“that’s it, princess. aww, i bet you feel sooo good..” the other woman continued to tease, her left hand still groping your breast for extra simulation. the idea of someone finding you getting fucked by a stranger on the job only turns you on more. hell, you’d probably let them join in at this rate. the only thing present in your mind is getting fucked senseless, and god it feels amazing.

ryujin’s palm continues to slap into your clit as she thrusts her fingers into you, each harsh tap against it bringing you closer and closer to your climax. you’re so sensitive it’s insane, suddenly gripping onto the other woman’s wrist in a failed attempt to slow her down. as your chest rises and falls more rapidly than even a few moments ago, your eyes squeeze shut and your back arches up against her chest. “fuck im gonna- im so close!” your moans quickly turn into screams and your walls clench around ryujin’s fingers as you reach your climax, unexpectedly squirting all over her hand and the floor beneath you both. she made sure to fuck you the entire time you came on her lap, ending it with a few slaps to your swollen, sensitive cunt which only made you twitch and beg for her to stop. after a couple moments she moved her hands away, even the one from your tits, silently watching you push a little more squirt out despite the lack of touch.

“fuck, baby..” ryujin practically moaned as she spoke, moving her right hand up and towards your lips, hovering over them to ask for entrance before sticking two fingers in your mouth. “lick them clean, good girl. how do you taste?” god, she was driving you crazy. since your mind is still foggy all you can do to reply is whine and suck the fingers she fucked you with completely clean, eyes still closed in pure ecstasy. she’ll take that as a yes.

she luckily lets you catch your breath before lightly patting at your thigh to get you to stand up, looking down at the mess you made before turning to you with a fake sympathy frown. “poor girl has to clean on the job too.” she teased, taking her wallet out of the back pocket of her suit trousers and handing you another $100, leaving you completely stunned and numb yet still desperate for more.

“same time next week?”

#itzy imagines #ryujin itzy #itzy fanfic #itzy fic #ryujin fanfic #ryujin fic #ryujin headcanon #ryujin smut #itzy smut #itzy nsft #ryujin nsft #kpop smut #kpop nsft #girl group smut fxf #girl group smut #fxf smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw nsft #wlw smut

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averseunhinged · 3 months

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it's that time again! wip wednesday, day of suffering and reluctant sharing.

this week's offering is from the soulmate au from ages ago, the middle of which is a total disaster. so, idk how much of this is going to end up in the finished product. or if there even will be a finished product. you know how it goes. i poked at it for a couple of days, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

if you want to read the previous bits, it was this and then this.

“What did the Salvatores teach you about blood sharing with another vampire?”

“The only thing I ever learned from Damon was superhuman patience," she scoffed. "Stefan got really uncomfortable and gave me some speech about urges and experimentation and being careful. And saving myself for marriage, I think? Which I still don't really get, but he's grandpa-times-five old. Maybe that sort of thing lingers. So, I gave him a pass on the unexpected abstinence-only moment.”

Elijah allowed himself a fraction of a moment to shut his eyes in pain at the sheer incompetence. “That sounds stunningly inaccurate. Though, he was correct on one point. It is not to be taken lightly."

"I," she began and twitched forward, reaching out to brush nonexistent dust from the dash. "Yes. I got that much from it. The keep your fangs to yourself lesson, not the--"

Her blush was vivid. Obvious, even in the sedan's dim interior.

“My brother made an error of judgement," Elijah continued as gently as he could manage. "He did something he should not have without your permission, counting on your ignorance. It was wrong. I will not deny that. But I hope you understand there was little chance he could have known the repercussions of his actions, and he has suffered greatly for them. We all have.”

"Explain," she ordered. If the situation had been less serious, he might have allowed himself more amusement from the liberties she took.

"When blood is shared between two vampires, it creates a sort of," he paused for a moment of thought before continuing delicately, "closeness, limited and short-term, beyond the physical. In most cases, one does not court a stranger’s fangs.”

“Most cases?”

“My father fed primarily on other vampires, not merely because he hated them, but for the perversity of the act. The violation.”

“That's--” Caroline trailed off.

“Yes. When he was human, he was a man of his time, and not a singularly bad one, at that. He loved his wife and family in the way men did--with brutality. However, he ensured we went without as little as possible and taught us the same. You might not care for his methods, but he shaped us into the people we needed to be: competent, hard-laboring survivors.”

Her mouth opened and closed again as she fought her instinct to argue, perhaps understanding he had little interest in her perspective. They may have originated from the same location, but Caroline was a staggering number of generations on from his family's origins. Mikael was a monster, there was no question. Elijah didn't need her to explain that. Mikael was also wildly successful by tenth century standards.

“And then he turned?” she finally asked, having edited out the less relevant commentary on the matter.

“And then he turned,” Elijah agreed. “It amplified an ugliness within. The raider of his youth. A marauder and a conqueror.”

“I don't think I want to know this.”

“You must.”

“Why must I? Why are you doing this? He has a baby, and a bitchy werewolf baby mama, and a whole other life, while I'm here, cleaning up the mess he left behind. Why do I have to solve his problems, too? I don't have time for this.”

Elijah smiled, a scant tilt of the mouth he tipped his chin to hide. How they snapped and snarled, she and his brother, as they tried to escape traps only they could see. He had no doubt she drew blood with her sharp tongue, vicious as Klaus with his bite.

“Yes," he agreed. "We are all running out of time, but it is important you fully understand what has occurred.”

“Why? Why now?” she begged, staring down at her hands, now tightly clasped.

“As in many areas, intent does play a role. Niklaus backed himself into a corner, magically speaking, and has been driven half-mad adhering to it, along with the numerous demands placed upon him. He made you a promise--a vow, one you reinforced upon your parting--without knowledge of the repercussions. In the time since, his mental state has deteriorated. As has yours, by your own admission, to a lesser degree."

He glanced away from the road, wanting a better gauge than his peripheral vision could provide. Eyes wide, Caroline slowly shook her head in denial, but seemed to have lost any verbal argument she might have had.

"He is an original hybrid, the only of his kind. Even he does not know the finer points of the magic from whence he was formed. Perhaps, he should have known better than to take such a risk with you, with himself, but if I have correctly parsed his explanation, the exchange of blood is not an act in which he has partaken in many centuries. Even then, it was a brief period of experimentation, given that he found the results uncomfortable. Until he a found himself desperately unhappy in New Orleans. He wished to carry a piece of you, of the contentment your presence gifted him. It was meant to be temporary. It is temporary, when the act is between vampires."

"But he's a werewolf, too."

"He is both, and neither," Elijah clarified.

#klaroline wip wed #fu curse #conversations with carolines in cars #i rly struggle with writing elijah #but he's such a good plot device #like who else could i use?#rebekah??????#she would have just broken caroline's neck and stuffed her in a suitcase

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wheneverfeasible · 27 days

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Let’s Do The Time Loop Again

Based on this post

wc: 1.1k || rating: T || cw: vague reference to suicide, mention of violence and injury || ship: Ronance || summary: Robin is stuck in a time loop. S4 AU || ao3

It should have been a simple thing. After all, she was supposed to be Smart with a capital S. Instead, they’d been having this same conversation every day for six months and the urge to strangle her was at an all time high. Still. At least the outcome was known now.

“Oh my god, I’m not into Steve!” Robin yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration. “You act like you’re so in-love with him but I really just think it’s because you can’t handle the fact that your first love is moving on and you can’t figure out how to break up with your boyfriend whom you no longer love!”

Other days, they’ve sat and talked about that. Nancy would reveal that she doesn’t miss Jonathan as much as she thought she should. That being apart was becoming easier every day. That she had her own goals in life and she couldn’t see a future with anyone who tried to limit her ambition or otherwise acted like an impediment, intentionally or otherwise.

Most days, however, it ended with Robin nudging Nancy to the news article she needed to make her discovery while dealing with the prickly girl feeling uneasy about Robin’s relationship with her ex-boyfriend.

Sometimes she told her the truth about herself, other days she simply denied it all like her first time before she got stuck, and other times she just got fed up and left. There was one thing she had never done before, however, and watching Nancy’s bitchy little face as she didn’t seem to fully accept that Robin and Steve weren’t a thing was the last straw.

Huffing a harsh breath, Robin reached out and tangled her fingers in Nancy’s hair as she pulled the girl towards her and smashed their lips together.

Honestly, she was expecting Nancy to push her away, maybe even slap or straight up punch her. It’s what Vickie had done more than once when Robin had first tried to make it work between them during all this, first tried to show Vickie that she could be a better boyfriend than her actual boyfriend. Before she had to finally admit that her infatuation wasn’t some great love story, that she and Vickie weren’t meant to be together, and she had to let her go.

Vickie had never fully accepted it anyways, accepted them, not even when Robin had tried to express her love and admiration with flowers and chocolates and the knowledge of the world’s imminent destruction. (The last part had probably been too much, all things considered.)

Instead, Nancy tensed momentarily, shocked and confused and frozen at the sudden action, and then she kissed back. A small gasp left her, which allowed Robin to slip her tongue in, and goodness, Nancy Wheeler was a fantastic kisser. When Robin finally (reluctantly) pulled back, Nancy’s eyes were closed, her head tilted slightly up, lips softly parted and pink.

When she finally blinked her eyes open, she stared dazedly at Robin. It was Robin’s turn to tense, to prepare to flee, even if she knew she’d be right back here as soon as Vecna killed her later, or on the off-chance this was one of the times they defeated him, when she woke up the next morning in the last.

She had thought, at the beginning, that it would all be over if they managed to defeat Vecna/Henry/One, but then they did, and then Robin was waking back up to the day Dustin stormed into Family Video to find Eddie. She was so tired of watching her friends die. She’d still sometimes have nightmares of watching Steve be beaten to death beneath Starcourt, of watching the light and life leave his eyes, his heart stop beating against hers.

It was so much worse watching it happen in reality. Steve, Nancy, Dustin, Eddie, Max, Lucas, even little Erica…she’d watched them all die over and over again and she had no idea why. Why she was the only one aware of what was happening. She had even tried to stop it herself, had taken herself out of the equation hoping that maybe that would release everyone else, but it never did.

“Oh.” Nancy’s cheeks slowly reddened as she looked up at Robin. Then, her lips slowly curled into a small smile. “Oh,” she repeated quietly, like everything was suddenly coming together in her mind. She let out a soft chuckle, then she reached out and lightly brushed her fingers over Robin’s. “Can we…discuss this later? After everything?”

Robin smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. She knew that there wasn’t a later, or an after. There was only an again.

She agreed though, and Nancy listened to her about where she should look in the records, and things continued on like normal. Nancy kept asking her opinion on things, however, which allowed Robin to steer things much more easily to one of the better outcomes. It was hard work, and it wasn’t without problems or injury, but they managed to save Max, save Eddie, saved everyone, and even defeated Vecna for good. Again.

She wondered sometimes why she still tried so hard, why she didn’t just curl in a ball and ignore everything, but she loved her friends too much for that. Loved Nancy too much for that, even though she knew that Nancy would never be able to return her feelings. Not when, in a few hours, Nancy would forget any of this had ever even happened.

“We did it,” Nancy breathed, fierce triumph in her eyes as she clutched Robin’s hand in a tight grip, bruised and bloodied but alive. For now. Robin turned to look at her, at the tear tracks down her grimy face even as she smiled, and Robin knew she was thinking about Barb, thinking that she had finally been avenged. For now.

“We did it,” Robin agreed, and she wanted to cry too. It wasn’t the best outcome they’d ever had before. Eddie had still been attacked by demobats, but he survived, if barely. Max still had broken limbs, but she wasn’t the final victim. Steve probably had another concussion, but he was breathing. Erica had a broken arm too, Dustin a broken ankle, and Lucas had just barely managed to avoid being shot but…the gates wouldn’t open this time. But there was always next time.

There was always a next time.

Nancy looked at her, and though she still seemed unsure about everything, she looked like she at least finally had the answer she was searching for. Robin knew how much it had hurt Steve when he thought Nancy was cheating on him, knew it wasn’t fair to Jonathan, but she also knew that whatever happened today didn’t count. It would only be her own heart breaking.

Robin, knowing this, drew Nancy towards her without her usual awkwardness, startling the other girl. She then leaned in to kiss Nancy again and let herself pretend, just for now, just for a little while, that everything was finally over.

Maybe, tomorrow, she’d kiss Nancy again too.

Disclaimer: this has originally been posted as a reblog to the linked post, but to make it easier on myself I am simply reposting it as its own thing with some edits.

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

Tagged because mention of interest: @absentminded001

#does she repeat it all again?#is it over?#maybe she wakes up the next morning with nancy’s arm around her waist #maybe she wakes up alone #who’s to say #time loop au #time loop #time loop ronance #ronance #ronance au #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things s4 au #stranger things #plot thots

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scekrex · 4 months

Note

Part 2 of ‘kill anyone for you’ plz! I love your writing and u write adam AMAZINGLY plz never stop- its the highlight of my mornings-

Yesssss here ya go n don't worry - as long as prompts keep coming in I'll continue to write

Part 1

'Cause a sinner needs a saint to tell him what's at the end

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, canon typical violence

note: beta read by @drxgonspine

When the first man opened his eyes again, he questioned a lot of things - the first question that shot through his mind was ‘why is there a shirtless dude with bat-like wings in my room?. The next thing he questioned why his room was red instead of white.

“Because,” you raised your voice as you grabbed a clean shirt from your closet and pulled it over your head, “It’s not your fucking room dingus. It’s mine.” The golden eyes of the first man widened, what did you mean by that? Also had he voiced that question roaming through his head out loud or were you reading his mind - were demons able to read minds? You chuckled softly at the angel as you tossed the shirt covered in divine winner blood - Adam’s - and impure sinner blood - the cannibals’ - onto the pile of dirty clothes that was slowly forming in the corner of your room. The first man tried to push his upper body away from the mattress to sit up straight but before he was able to properly do so, his back hit the mattress again, causing the brunette to groan in pain.

“The fuck are you doing,” you mumbled as you rushed over to the former leader of the exorcists to make sure he did not fall directly onto his wounds. Too much movement would cause them to tear open again and Adam had already lost way too much blood, there was no need to push his luck any further. Not when you had been doing your best to get him in a somewhat stable condition.

“Get the fuck outta here,” the angel responded pissy as he tried once more to sit up straight, this time it was your hand that stopped him from moving his body too much.

“What are you-” the feeling of warm, sticky liquid puddling up underneath him made him choke on his own words. “Great. You’re bleeding again, good fucking job,” you grumbled. With gentle touches you lifted his upper body slightly off the soft yet bloody mattress to carefully pull his wing out from underneath him.

Adam wanted to bite back, wanted to pull away from your touch, bat your hand away from his wing - his wing which not even Lute had been allowed to touch. But he didn’t. Not when the knowledge of you saving his life was in the back of his mind. The least he could do to thank you was to act less bitchy than he would have liked to. So the first man remained not only still but also quiet as you patched up the torn open wound. He allowed himself a small glance at his wing - a thing he regretted only a moment later when his eyes took in the appearance of his wings.

They looked mangled, not only were they covered in bite marks that were still visible on his feathers, pieces of them were missing, there were straight up holes in his wings. Some spots were bald, the cannibals had ripped out the feathers before they ate his flesh. Adam reached out with the intention to touch the still open and irritated wounds, you were quicker though. His hand was batted away from the bites before it was close enough to touch the wounds.

“No,” your voice sounded firm, like you were ordering him not to touch his wings and if you were honest that was exactly what you had aimed for. You knew Adam - or rather you knew the sides of Adam that he wanted you to know. He was the first man you had fought against his army in multiple exterminations. You knew that he needed a strict hand to guide him and at this point you were in too deep as if you were able to leave him to himself. You had spared him from being eaten alive despite the fact that he was the most horrible person you had ever met. And if you were able to spare him from falling into death’s hands, you surely were able to patch him up again.

“Will I ever be able to fly again?” he asked quietly, you suspected he was talking to himself - mostly. Yet you still answered his question honestly. “Most likely. The wounds will close, the missing parts won’t grow back,” you mumbled bitterly as you spread your own wings, showing the first man the countless little holes and pink scars that they were covered in. His beautiful golden eyes focused on your wings and it appeared as if he tried to burn every little detail shown to him into his mind. With a small wiggle of your upper body you tucked your wings back in, pressing them close to your sides.

“You need time though, so no fucking around. If you need shit, you will fucking call me for help, I don’t give a shit about your ridiculously large ego and its thoughts about help. Is that fucking clear?” Adam could not help but stare at your face, no one had ever talked to him like that. With a tone as demanding as you had just used on him, as dominant. And he had to admit he liked it. He liked tít a lot. So he nodded, agreeing to the words spoken by you.

Your hand left his wing and strangely the first man found himself missing your touch immediately, he was too prideful to actually say so though - you were a sinner after all. And he was the most divine human soul in heaven, well he had been.

Before they had left him in hell to rot because they thought of him as dead. Why did his body long for a sinner’s touch? Why did his mind long for the sinner? A male one on top of it. Yet he felt too tired and exhausted to think it all through properly.

For now he would go with the flow.

The brunette was about to turn around and go back to sleep to get some more rest for his still recovering body, but he flinched when he felt somebody else getting into bed. It was you - of course it was, there was no one else in the room after all. He opened his eyes again and they met yours.

Your beautiful eyes looked way too tempting, way too beautiful to belong to a sinner, that was for sure. Carefully you reached out to push Adam’s sweaty brown hair out of his face and the first man let you, fuck he even closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“Sleep well,” you whispered as you gently extended your wing to cover the first man under the surprisingly soft leathery skin. And for the first time in ages the brunette found himself able to fall asleep in an instant, something he had not experienced in so long.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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starkstruck27 · 3 months

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My third fill for @harringrovesummerbingo!! Prompt + Space: Free Space, B2 Title: Reaching New Heights Major Tags: None Rating: Teen Word Count: 3492 words Additional Tags: Amusement parks, Roller coasters, Acrophobia Summary: Steve and Billy take the kids to an amusement park for a day, and Billy is acting grumpy the whole time. Steve calls him on it and Billy says he'll stop complaining, and to make it up to Steve, he'll do whatever he wants to do next with no complaints. But that thing is the tallest and fastest roller coaster in the park, and Billy can't back out on his promise now. Also on: Ao3

“C’mon, Steve! There’s, like, no wait time! We have to get on the Dragon’s Flight before the line gets long again!” Dustin yelled as he and the rest of the kids started running towards the entrance to the roller coaster.

“Ugh, another roller coaster?” Billy grumbled, walking slowly behind Steve as they made their way towards the kids. “That’s all they’ve wanted to do all day. They don’t eat, they don’t sit on their asses and rest, they don’t go to the arcade, they only want to ride coasters, and guess who has to sit and wait and hold all their shit?”

“Billy, you’re the one who’s been sitting out this whole time. They could put their stuff in the cubbies at the end of the line before they get on the coaster, but since you sit out anyway, it’s better if we leave it with you so that nothing gets lost or stolen,” Steve sighed, tired of his boyfriend’s complaining. “And what’s your problem today, anyway? I know it’s hot, but it’s not like we forced you to come. I said I was going to bring the kids here for a day and you said you wanted to tag along, nobody forced you to come.”

And Billy had to admit, he had a point. Steve had mentioned in passing a few weeks ago that he was planning a little trip to the Land Fantastica amusement park for the kids, since they’d been begging to go ever since it opened and their parents were all too busy to take them. It was a fantasy themed park with different ‘lands’ you could visit, and of course it had a lot of roller coasters that you could ride corresponding to each land. Right now, they were in the ‘Dragon Mountain’ area, and this coaster was of course modeled to be like you were riding on the back of a flying dragon.

But Billy didn’t particularly care for coasters, and even though Steve was right, he had asked to come along and spend the day with them, he didn’t realize that Steve would feel the need to get on every single coaster along with the kids. He thought they’d let the kids go off on their own and they could walk around the park together, go into shops and eat at little restaurants and maybe ride some of the more tame rides, but no. The kids refused to leave Steve’s side and dragged him with them wherever they wanted to go. And Billy was stuck waiting on benches all alone and weighed down with bags and sweatshirts that the kids had brought along. Still, he had chosen to come, and now he was being bitchy about it, and it made him feel a little bad.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed, “I’m sorry, I’ll try to stop complaining.”

“That’s all I ask. And I promise, we’ll do something other than roller coasters in a little while, that way you can do it, too.” Steve smiled.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” Billy said, then went and found a shady bench to sit on while Steve ran to catch up with the kids.

Dustin was right, the line for the coaster wasn’t that long, and they were on and off in a half hour. Lucas and Mike were talking excitedly with Max and El about their favorite parts of the coaster, while Dustin and Will read over their park map, plotting out the best route so that they could hit every coaster in the park.

“Okay, so,” Will said as the rest of the kids gathered around him. “There are ten coasters in the eight different lands in the park. We’ve been to Wizard Square, Elven Village, Pirate Bay, Mermaid Lagoon and Dragon Mountain, and we rode Spell Tower, Gaylia’s Hunt, Escape the Kraken, Seascape Falls, and Dragon’s Flight. I say we go to Fairy Forest next and do the Banshee and Brownie’s Adventure, then head to Enchanted Meadow and do Rainbow Run, then head to the Royal Castle and end the day with Knight’s Quest and Dark Dungeon.”

“That’s a good plan,” Mike said, and Will blushed a little.

“Yeah man, I can’t wait for the Banshee,” Lucas chimed in, “It’s supposed to be scary.”

“I’m just waiting until Rainbow Run,” Max said, “That’s the highest and fastest coaster in the whole park! It’s gonna be awesome!”

“That does sound like a good plan, guys, but remember, we have to take breaks to eat and stuff, too. Plus we have to make sure everyone gets to do what they want to do, and there’s still games and stuff we haven’t hit up yet,” Steve said as the kids continued to plan.

“Yeah, but we have to make sure we hit them all! And besides, if we wait, the wait times will just get longer and longer! If we do them all now, we can get them out of the way and then spend the rest of the day doing other stuff. Plus we don’t want to get on roller coasters with full stomachs! That’s a recipe for disaster, Steve,” Dustin said, and he and the kids started walking towards the next area of the park.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said as he and Billy walked a little behind the kids. “I can sit the next one out if you want to do something else.”

“That’s okay,” Billy shrugged, “You like the rides and the kids like going on them with you. I’ll be fine on the bench. Like Dustin said, the faster you do them all, the faster we get to do other things.”

“Thanks for being a good sport about it,” Steve smiled, and Billy made himself smile back, even if he was getting a little tired of all of this. Especially the way the kids were trying to control the day. Steve kind of let them, but still, he was their babysitter, he should’ve been the one in charge, not the one getting his suggestions shot down in favor of what the kids wanted to do. It was grating on his nerves, and by the time they’d ridden the next two coasters and started running off towards the next, he was starting to forget the promise he’d made to Steve earlier on.

“Hey, assholes!” He called as they took off running to the next land before Billy could even get off the bench. “Get back here right now or I swear to God I’m gonna chuck all your stuff over the damn bridge!”

The kids all stopped in their tracks and made their way back over to where Billy and Steve were, looking just the smallest bit sheepish as he started handing them back their stuff.

“I’m sick of this! From now on, you’re all carrying your own stuff, I’m not a fucking pack mule! And if you run off again and get lost in the crowd, don’t expect us to come looking for you! If you get left here, that’s your problem! You’re being ungrateful little brats and Steve might put up with that, but I don’t, so clean up your acts before we take you home!”

“But we didn’t even do anything!” Dustin whined, looking at Billy in exasperation.

“You ran off, you’re not being considerate of what everyone else wants to do, you’re not thanking me or Steve for bringing you here, buying you things or holding your stuff, and you’re not listening to Steve when he tells you it’s time for a break,” he said, counting the offenses on his fingers. “You’re just being brats!”

“And you’re being a jerk!” Max said, crossing her arms and giving him a look.

“Guys, look, we’re getting nowhere with this arguing and we’re starting to cause a scene. Let’s all just calm down and get something to eat, maybe we’ll all be less cranky once we get something in our bellies. You guys go and get whatever you’d like from that little restaurant over there,” Steve said, pointing to it, “We’ll be right behind you.”

As soon as the kids were out of earshot, Steve turned and leveled Billy with a glare, crossing his arms as Billy asked, “What did I do?!”

“You yelled at the kids and caused a scene for no reason!” Steve hissed. “It’s not their fault it’s hot and you’ve been sitting out the whole time!”

“Maybe not, but it is their fault that I’m hungry and tired and bored! I’m sorry I yelled at them, but I don’t like the way they’ve been ignoring us all day so that they can have a good time while you and I aren’t!”

“I’m having a good time with them, it’s you that’s getting on my nerves!” Steve said, “You said you’d try to stop complaining about everything, but you’re not. And yeah, the kids are a little overzealous, but they’re kids at an amusement park, what the hell did you expect?”

“I expected them to be mature enough to realize that it’s not just all about them!” Billy said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

“You wanna talk about immaturity? Look at you! You’re pouting and throwing a tantrum because you’re hungry and tired! That’s what toddlers do, Billy!” Steve said, and Billy once again had to admit he had a point. “Look, I’m not trying to make you out to be the bad guy, here. I’m just saying don’t act all high and mighty when you’re acting just as badly as they are. They want today to be all about them, and you feel left out, so now you’re trying to turn the tables and make it all about you, and neither is right. But we’re not going to get anywhere when they think you’re the bad guy and you think they’re the bad guys.”

“You’re right,” Billy sighed, dropping his arms, “I don’t want anyone to have a bad day, but I don’t want to just cave to them, either, so how do I fix this?”

“Well I think the first step is to get you cooled down and get some food in your stomach, and then I think you should apologize to the kids and explain your side of it a little bit more nicely. If you do that, they should come around.”

“And what can I do to get back in your good graces?”

“Just make it up to the kids and I’ll be happy,” Steve said.

“No, that’s not enough. I fucked up and I want to make it up to you, so what can I do?”

“Seriously, it’s okay. You don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do!” Billy insisted, then said, “Here, how bout this, whatever it is that you want to do next, I’ll do it with no complaints. I promise I’ll keep a lid on it this time. Pinky promise with a cherry on top!”

“Okay, okay,” Steve said, trying and failing to hide a smile, “It’s a deal. I think that’ll be nice. But first you have to apologize to the kids.”

So that’s what Billy did. He said he was sorry for yelling at them and explained himself, and the kids apologized, too. They all ate their food and their spirits were lifted as they relaxed for a while in the air conditioning. Everyone was in a better mood when they left, and they took their time walking through the park to the next land, keeping an eye out for any cool looking shops or games. They didn’t see very many, and before they knew it, they’d made it to the Rainbow Run coaster.

“Steve, can we please go on Rainbow Run? We’ve been waiting all day to get to it!” Max asked as they came up to the entrance, and Billy managed to hide his sigh as Steve said they could ride it. He started looking around for a shady bench to sit on, but before he could spot one, Steve grabbed his arm and started pulling him along with him.

“You coming?” He asked, nodding his head towards the line.

“What?” Billy asked, confused.

“You said you’d do whatever I wanted to do next without complaint, and I know you’re not the biggest fan of coasters, but I want to go on at least one thing with you today, so are you coming or not?”

“Oh, uh,” Billy said, panicking internally. He knew he shouldn’t have made that promise so general. “Yeah, I’m right behind you.”

Billy didn’t have much time to panic, though, as the hot afternoon ensured that most people were either inside somewhere or at the water park, so the line was fairly short, and it didn’t take long before they were getting close to the loading dock. Billy was starting to fidget as they got closer and closer, and it got more intense as they started getting to the point of separating into lines for the seat rows. There were five seats to a row, and Max, Lucas and Dustin all hopped in line for the first row of seats, Dustin dragging Steve along with him and in turn, Billy. Mike, Will and El would be in the second row right behind them, along with a pair of teenage girls that had gotten there just before them.

Billy couldn’t believe how many kids he saw waiting in line for this ride. How in the world they managed to gather up the courage to ride it, especially those riding by themselves, he’d never know. It made him antsy as he passed by the little wooden cutouts of leprechauns and unicorns that lined the walls of the loading area, each cutout coming with a speech bubble explaining the rules and regulations of the ride. He tried not to read them for his own sanity, but found that he couldn’t help it, and as he read about all the things that could possibly go wrong on the ride, he started to feel kinda queasy. He must’ve looked it, too, because just before they were set to get on the ride, Steve leaned over and whispered, “Hey, you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine, just fine,” Billy said, starting to feel a cold sweat break out over his whole body.

“Are you sure? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” Billy said, starting to play with his necklace. He swallowed thickly and Steve was going to ask another question, but then the gates opened, and it was their turn to climb onto the ride. Max, Lucas and Dustin hurried into their seats, and Steve followed, but Billy hesitated. He really didn’t want to do this. But he’d promised Steve, and that fact alone is what made him take the next few shaky steps off the platform and into the seat of the car.

“Hey, are you sure you’re alright? You don’t have to ride with us if you don’t want to,” Steve said, looking over after tightening his lap bar.

“No, no, it’s fine, I said I’d do whatever you wanted next with no complaining, and that’s what I’m doing,” Billy said, pulling his lap bar as snugly against him as he could and white-knuckling the handles.

“Yeah, but you look like you’re gonna be sick, and I don’t want you to do something if it’s gonna make you sick, that would just make me feel bad,” Steve said, “I’m sure they’ll let you off if you ask.”

“No, I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t really get sick on rides, just, um, nervous,” Billy said, lifting his hands for only a second so the attendant could check his restraints. Then they were back to the handles, his knuckles turning white again as soon as he did.

“Well, here, if you’re nervous, hold my hand,” Steve offered, holding it out to Billy as the attendant returned to her post on the side of the loading platform.

“Oka- Oh shit!” Billy almost yelled as the coaster lurched into motion, taking them out of the loading dock and up to the first hill. He grabbed onto Steve’s hand so tight that he could’ve broken it, but Steve didn’t say anything about it.

“Fuck, how high does this thing go?!” Billy asked as they slowly made their way to the top of the first hill.

“I think, like, 200 feet? It’s the tallest one in the park,” Steve said, and Billy’s grip on his hand only got tighter.

“Holy fucking shit, how did I let you talk me into this?! This is fucking insane, I don’t wanna do this, I wanna get off!” Billy rambled, his breathing getting heavier and heavier.

“It’s kinda too late for that, Bill,” Steve said, just as they got about three quarters of the way up.

“I know, I know and I fucking hate it! Fuck, I hate heights! Why the fuck did I let you talk me into this?! Especially the front fucking seat!!” Billy shrieked, and now, they were at the top. “Ffffuuuuccckkk!!!” He shouted on the way down, holding onto Steve for dear life as they went through the ride, Billy shouting profanities the whole time and screaming in terror as everyone else screamed in amusement. He could hear the kids laughing, and he wanted to kill each and every one of them as they finally made it through the last loop of the coaster and the train they were in finally made it back to the loading dock.

Steve looked over at him and started laughing a little bit, too, but Billy was too scared out of his wits to care for longer than a second. He felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, and he could feel his hair had been shaken completely out of place, falling over his face in what must’ve been the most ridiculous hairstyle ever from the way everyone was laughing at him. His face was somehow both white and red at the same time, and he felt like he’d been hit over the head with something, but not hard enough to knock him out. He was still clinging onto Steve’s hand as the attendants let the lap bars up so that they could get off, and despite his legs feeling like they were no longer attached to his body, Billy shot up as soon as he could, practically pushing everyone else out of the train so that he could get out himself and back onto solid ground.

“I fucking hate all of you,” he wheezed as he got his things from the cubbies and started down the ramp to the exit. The kids were continuing to laugh at him as he attempted to fix his hair and catch his breath, and Steve was still smiling, too, but he let Billy go as he waited for the kids to get their things and head for the ramp themselves. Halfway down, though, they stopped, looking among the screens at the photo booth to try and find their pictures, and bursting into a whole new fit of laughter as they found the one for their train. Steve hadn’t stuffed his wallet back into his pocket yet, and even though he didn’t want to encourage the kids, he also did not want to pass up the opportunity of owning a copy of that photo.

By the time they caught up with Billy, he had gotten his color back and had managed to fix his hair enough so that it wasn’t all over the place, and he was breathing normally again. He didn’t look as dazed as he had when the ride had just ended, and the kids managed to keep their laughter to a minimum as they started walking away from the coaster and closer to the next and final land in the park.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked as he and Billy trailed a little behind the kids.

“I will be,” Billy said, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m really sorry, by the way,” Steve said, a sympathetic smile on his face. “I had no idea you were afraid of heights, I thought coasters just made you sick or something and that’s why you didn’t like them. I never would’ve made you get on if I had known.”

“Eh, it’s okay. I should’ve known that’s what we were gonna do next, and I could’ve gotten off if I really needed to. Besides, now I can at least say that I’ve done it,” Billy shrugged, “Sorry if I hurt your hand, though.”

“Nah, you didn’t. And even if you did, I would’ve deserved it for making you get on,” Steve said.

“You really didn’t make me,” Billy said, “But if you really want to make it up to me, buy me a lemonade and some cotton candy the next time we see some, and we’ll call it even.”

“You’ve got a deal,” Steve said. He probably would’ve agreed to anything Billy asked of him after that, though. After all, he needed to get him in a good mood before he could tell him about that picture he bought.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #fanfic #max mayfield #dustin henderson #will byers #mike wheeler #eleven #lucas sinclair #the party #hsb2024

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totally-bogus-timelady · 1 year

Text

Nice Uniform

A/N So this is just a little thing that I whacked out to try and get the metaphorical cogs turning. As usual I would love to hear what you guys think and reblogs are always appreciated! No smut in this one but my blog/work is always 18+.

“Nice uniform.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“What? I mean it, it’s a very nice uniform...”

You snicker as Steve stands there, glaring at you, arms crossed in that perfect scolding mother stance of his.

“You know what, for that comment, you can walk to school tomorrow,” he sends a triumphant smirk your way as you scoff at him.

“Ugh, you are so bitchy Steve. What’s the matter? Those shorts getting your panties in a twist or something?” You continue to cackle as he throws his arms up, exasperated and turns to walk away in defeat. You jog to catch up with him as he makes his way through the mall.

Steve had stopped by the exercise class you’d just finished on his way to work, a cup of coffee for you in his hand and grimace plastered on his face as if preparing himself for your reaction to his appearance.

“Hey, Steve! Come on, I was just kidding.”

Steve turns back to you and huffs, tongue poking the inside of his cheek in annoyance. His eyes look past yours, a faint blush tinging his cheeks pink before he then focuses on your face. You look him up and down with a small smile, all traces of teasing gone.

“It’s really not that bad,” you try to comfort him.

He scoffs and gives you a look as if to say ‘seriously.’

“Are you kidding me? I mean, come on! How am I supposed to find a girlfriend wearing this stupid thing,” he gestures down at his sailor shirt and tiny shorts that are somehow still flattering on him, accentuating his slim waist. Your eyes linger a little longer than you’d care to admit and you quickly flit your eyes back up before Steve catches you ogling.

Your best friend is attractive, there’s no two ways about that, with his luscious, thick brown hair, his doe like hazel eyes and that beautifully dumbstruck expression where his lips part as he gawps, cluelessly.

You’d always viewed Steve as nothing more than a friend but occasionally your mind would wander, like last week when you’d realized that your stare was directed at his ass, him in his tight blue jeans as he’d bent over to get something from the trunk of his car.

You’d drawn it up to sexual frustration. At the end of the day you were a woman with needs and Steve was quickly becoming more and more of an attractive man.

Not that you would ever act on it. You were merely just indulging occasionally in a small fantasy or appreciating the lovely view he would often provide...

“Steve, trust me, you have nothing to worry about. Yeah, the outfits stupid! But if anyone could still make something as stupid as this look attractive, it would be you!” You shoot a genuine smile at him as his cocky little smirk slowly starts to return to his pretty face.

“You really think I have nothing to worry about?” He asks, still a little timid.

“Really,” Steve still looks at you skeptically. “Oh, what do you want, a list? Alright, the blue actually complements your eyes pretty well, its somehow a very slimming outfit and the shorts make your ass look great, okay!”

Steve smirks triumphantly at you.

“I knew it!” He points his finger at you, waggling it in your face accusingly, smug grin plastered across his own. You gaze at him, brows furrowed, confused expression taking over.

“I knew you were looking at my ass!” You took on a very convincing impression of a fish, your mouth opening and closing in disbelief. “Last week when I was getting those VHS tapes out of the car and a few days ago when you couldn’t reach that book in the store, so you got me to reach up and get it for you! And yesterday, when I leaned over the bonnet to fix my wiper blade... You’ve been looking at my ass!” Steve, his face filled with pure glee at having caught you out, crosses his arms and smirks.

You stammer, looking for some kind of coherent response. “I, I- no I haven’t been- Why would I be looking at your- I wasn't looking at your ass...”

“Oh come on! I’ve caught you, you were looking at it.”

Steve shuffles slightly closer to you and moves his hand up to brush a strand of your hair out of your face. You desperately willed your blush to go away before Steve found anything else to tease you about.

“It’s okay you know, I’d have a hard time concentrating if the package was this pretty too.”

“Oh shut up,” You shove at his shoulder. A small smile starts to make an appearance on your face and Steve laughs. “Stop using me to boost your ego Harrington. Alright, I will admit that on occasion I may have noticed your ass out of the corner of my eye and haven’t been completely disgusted by it, but that does not mean I have been gazing longingly at you. You’re still my weird best friend, who I once caught shaving his chest hair with my pink lady razor!”

Steve’s laughing comes to a sudden stop and his wicked grin falls.

“You promised me that we’d never speak of that again!”

“Well it’s your own fault for teasing me!”

“You were the one who was staring at my ass!”

“You’re the one who’s wearing the stupid sailor costume, with the tiny shorts!”

“Oh, they’re tiny shorts now are they? When did you notice that? When you were looking at my ass!”

“Okay, shut up!” You finally put a stop to the incessant bickering. “I’m calling a truce! I’ll stop talking about the pink lady razor and the stupid uniform if you stop talking about me occasionally looking at your ass.”

Steve looks at you skeptically, deciding whether to take your offer.

“Okay, truce.”

“Okay,” You both start walking towards Steve’s new place of work, “So, you wanna tell me about your new job?”

Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Eh, it’s nothing special. Ice cream is ice cream at the end of the day.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But it’s good that you’re doing something for yoursel-”

“You know I look at yours too right?” Steve asks. You gawp at him confused.

“What?”

“Your ass... I sometimes look, y’know, when you're... I don’t know, but I do. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to feel weird about it ‘cause I do it too sometimes. So... yeah.”

You blush for what feels like the hundredth time that morning, absorbing the information Steve has just given you.

“Oh,” You let out rather pathetically and realize that you should probably follow it up with something more informative. “Yeah, no... that’s... yeah that’s normal right? I mean, we’re best friends and we spend a lot of time together so it’s... no big deal right? It doesn’t mean anything.”

Steve continues to look ahead of him, purposely not looking in your direction out of fear that he might embarrass himself further.

“Exactly, no big deal. It’s just something that people do.”

“Yeah.”

“Glad we cleared that up,” Steve looks at you now and you both let out a slightly awkward chuckle.

Steve’s cheeks glow with embarrassment, a timid smile lifting the corners of his lips and his eyes do that thing were they go all wide and glazy. You decide to break the tension.

“Hey, race you to Scoops?” A cheesy grin takes over your face as you nudge him in the ribs.

“Wha- Hey!” You shove him and take off running into the distance.

Steve chases after you and being the athlete that he is, eventually overtakes you. he looks back at you, still running and sends you a cheeky wink. You huff at his behavior and start to slow down.

In the few seconds that Steve wasn’t looking where he was going, he fails to see the musical horse ride in the middle of the mall. Steve runs straight into it and trips. He’s sprawled, quite pathetically, hanging over the ride. His ass is in the air, lean legs on display in his small, dark blue shorts. His face is completely obscured from view.

You slowly walk up to him, now trying to suppress your chuckling as you send a slap to his ass.

“Guess I win either way then, huh Harrington. Well I’ve made my decision.”

A pathetic sounding “What?” comes from the other side of the horse. You walk round to the other side and crouch down so that you’re face to face with Steve. His hazel eyes gaze cluelessly into yours.

Brushing a bit of his mane out of his face you smile and say to him,

“The uniform’s not so bad.”

#steve harrington #king steve #steve x reader #steve x y/n #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington imagine

88 notes · View notes

0kayblue · 2 years

Text

Do You Still Love Me?

A cozy little cabin is where you find a typewriter and relief.

(Part I) (Part III)

Main character relations: Leon Kennedy x reader

Word Count: 4k (a little over)

More suffocating angst. Hurt with no real comfort.

A/N: Y’all twisted my arm and I have lost sleep over this. It is very hard to go to work with only four hours of sleep. Regardless though, thank you for your praise on ‘Do You Still Love Him?’ My heart reaches out to all of you and I hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was all completely uploaded on my phone so please forgive my errors!! @xpipixd @ovrparty @azznina @dargoww

Leon's legs were growing increasingly heavy as he ran. The ground was reduced to a thick mud that tried to adhere his feet to it.

“Leon! Cabin!” You yelled right on his tail as you pointed to the shabby nearly dry rotted small log cabin. Both of you nearly out of ammo and at your wits end as a group of zombie cultists weren’t too far behind you.

“Right!” That final bubble of adrenal bursting sends a chill wave through his blood stream as he pushes onward. His side makes rough contact with a surprisingly sturdy door, forcing it open. “Quick!” He nearly chokes on the word as he ushers you in. Fear starts to settle as it works its way up his throat.

As you make your way into the cabin you make a beeline to the window adjacent to the door. Searching for something to put in front of it. He slams the door shut and you muster all the strength you have to push a disregarded book shelf in front of it. You glance around the room and see a dresser towards the center of the room, “Leon, block the door with that!” Your words come out quick, and stiff, and a little bitchy; but they make him move.

With your task complete you see a disregarded table with a typewriter on it and go to pull it off while beginning to catch your breath. Your head starts to feel fuzzy as you gasp for breath. You weren’t a full time field agent and it is becoming more present with each passing second why you weren’t. This shit terrified you and stuck to your core like black tar.

“Give me that.” He pulled you away from your train of thought as he took the heavy and oddly shaped typewriter from your hands. You couldn’t form a word of protest as much as you wanted too. You just put your attention back on the table as you flipped it up and pushed against the only other visible window in the one room cabin. You moved over to start grabbing the chairs to put against the table as reinforcements; but Leon just raised a hand telling you not to make any more movements. He easily picked them up and did what you set out to do.

Once he was done he just stared at them, his back to you. Now that he was done running, now that he was somewhere hidden, now that you were out of the direct path of harm's deathly clutches; rage finally began to settle in his system. His blood boiling as his hands clenched into fist and his shoulders began to shake with an unbridled rage. “What are you doing here?” He asked slowly, his tone cold and unforgiving.

“Helping.” A one word answer that didn’t satisfy him or yourself. Truth be told you were frightened to say more; in all the years that you have known Leon you have never seen him this enraged. You have never felt this heat of anger off of him until now.

He couldn’t help but laugh, “Helping?” He turned to you, “I didn’t want your help. I said no.” He started to approach you, the sound of his heavy footsteps imprinting themselves in your mind. “I gave that husband of yours one job. One.” He raised a finger before his hand found his side again.

“Do not blame Bill for any of this.” You were quick to Bill’s defense as heat blossomed from your chest. His anger made its way to you as your body stiffened, “You needed the help back there, Kennedy. Don’t act like you didn’t.”

He shut his eyes as his lips pinched into a thin line. You knew the effects of calling him by his last name did to him. He took in a deep breath before opening his eyes and as they trapped yours he sighed, “How did you get here?”

“Same way you did. I drove. Ingrid gave-.”

“Hunnigan got you in on this too? Jesus H. Christ.” He was in a sense of disbelief. He thought when he gave Ingrid the out and the coordinates to your cabin that you both would be out of this until it was clear. Hindsight is 20/20 though and he never knew better.

“Yes, she is. We all are!”

“We?”

“We. Me, Ingrid, and a couple of trusted colleagues.” You admitted, knowing how it sounded.

“A couple? I got the one trusted colleague.”

“Don’t start. I have it under control.” You broke eye contact with him, feeling immensely guilty. “Ingrid trusts them and so do I. We need as many hands as we can get right now.” You were right and he knew it, he just had a hard time coming to terms with no matter how he looked at this he couldn’t get it done with just the best of the best.

“And none of them were field agents? None of them could take your place?” The words fell from his lips revealing how shattered he was. The weight of exhaustion weighing heavily upon his shoulders.

“No.” Your eyes met him again, “It was a last resort. I know I have limited experience and I know I work better from the sky, but I’m the best shot right now. It’s pathetic and I’m well aware of that fact; but if it makes you feel better I was supposed to be meeting Chris. Not you.” He raised an eyebrow, “Ingrid assumed you went with Claire to the west and sent Chris north. I guess we should’ve known better, you field agents never put the right tracking equipment on.” You chuckled trying to lighten the mood and it worked a little bit as you caught a glimpse of a small smile. You knew he was mad and you knew that the last thing he wanted to deal with was you. Painting yourself a burden on his shoulders, making him have to deal with you again.

“(Y/N)?” Ingrid’s voice broke up, but still cut through your ear piece.

“Ingrid.” You said, forcing the cheap equipment further into your ear. “I’m here. Ingrid?”

“Got ya.” Ingrid said as the quality cleared, “It’s been three hours.”

“I know. Ran into a speed bump that thickened our plot.” You said looking at the military grade watch on your wrist. “From the looks of it the DSO decided they weren’t completely against bioweapons.”

“I guess it doesn’t surprise me. Have you met up with Chris?” You studied Leon’s face hesitating on what was the best answer here. Tell her the truth and in the process telling Bill the truth as well, or keeping your mouth shut. You looked away from Leon and to the barricaded door.

“Yes. I’m with Chris now bunkered down in some abandoned cabin. Any luck reaching Claire?” Your free arm wrapped around your waist as you bit your lip. The guilt of your white lie is already upsetting your stomach. Leon wants to reach for you, but he doesn’t. He knows better.

“Unfortunately, no.” She sighed as her fingers worked on a bubble gum pink mini HP. “I’m doing the best with what I’ve got. But, there is good news on the horizon, our culprit is closer than we think. I believe if you and Chris keep moving you’ll meet them before they dock and get the jump on them before they know what hits them.”

“Do we have any time to spare? Chris is a little worse for wear and I would rather go into this with him on better terms.” Leon bit his tongue, you could not be worried about him right now.

Ingrid raised a brow at your question and hesitantly said, “Safe to assume ten hours, nine to be on the safe side.”

“Good, that’ll give us enough time to see if we can reach Claire on the same shitty equipment we have.”

“Agreed. If you could catch them and get them to turn around and meet you there it would put you ahead of schedule.” Neither you or Ingrid could fight the little victorious smile on your faces. You nearly forgot how good you were at this.

“Alright, I’m going silent. I’ll catch you when I get us through or when we hit the road. Out.” “Talk to you then. Out.” You took the ear piece out of your ear as you turned to Leon, your smile now grown.

“We’ve got time and a damn good chance of a good ending.” The hopeful optimism brought the color back to your face and made his chest swell as he returned your smile. Lord knows he needed to smile and needed a break. “So here’s what we are going to do; you are going to give me your earpiece and I am going to try and get Claire or Chris on the other end while you take that bed and rest.” You said gesturing to the twin sized bed in the far right corner of the room.

“Rest? You can’t-.”

“I am. This place is boarded up and we will be better off in the long run if you are charged up a bit.” He rolled his eyes as his hands found his hips, while you walked up to him. “I’m not saying you have to fall asleep, but just take a moment. You have the time, use it.” You begged him as you went and carefully took his ear piece out of his ear, “I’ll keep watch.”

He sighed, “Fifteen minutes.”

“Three hours, got it.”

“One hour.”

“Two.”

He didn’t say another word, just turned and headed for the bed. He hit the bed lightly as a puff of dust floated off of it and into the air. He let out a short cough before going back to try and get off as much dust as he could. As he took a seat he noted a little victorious grin on your face before you sat on the floor, tucking his ear piece into your ear.

He picked up the pillow wanting to say something but lacking the words. He was everywhere at the moment. He was still utterly pissed that you were here, he was still full of fear from barely being able to escape the horde of undead soldiers, he was still so mad at himself for getting you involved; but yet he was over the moon with joy that he could talk to you, be in same room as you, smile with you. It was selfish and cruel to crave you so.

As he grabbed the pillow he shook it, trying his best to make it look clean enough to convince himself it was clean enough to rest on. Setting it back down he laid down, the bed creaking as he did so. He once again took a deep breath in and out, focusing on the various aches he felt all over. His eyes closed as he tried to settle into the mattress. It didn’t work as he opened them and turned his head to look at you.

“Claire? Chris? Redfields, do you copy?”

“I’ve tried a million times.” He confessed, he hasn’t tried since stepping foot in this cabin.

“I’ll try a million and one.” He let out a short laugh. “Rest.” You pressed him again.

“Can’t.” Leon said just to get under your skin.

“You haven’t tried.” You turned your body just enough to send him a short glare. “I have work to do.” You said, turning back to face the window while you fidgeted with the smart device in your hand. Leon just smirked as he shut his eyes again, trying to rest for your sake.

He laid there with his legs crossed at his ankles and his hands folded and resting on his stomach for a good fifteen minutes. Switching between listening to you call out for the Redfield siblings and your fidgeting on the floor as you tried to get comfortable. As he went to sit up he was stopped by the sound of a low hum starting to come from you. For a minute he was scared that you had eyes in the back of your head that knew his next move; but then your hum continued into a melody. A sweet soft melody that he could swear he’s heard everyday for the countless days that he’s spent away from you. A song that was constantly stuck in the back of his head that he would hum or sing along too just to comfort himself when the bottle didn’t do the trick or he had reached the end of it. For the first time in days he truly relaxed against the ancient mattress that he laid on. His eyes remained shut, his breathing slowed, and he fell asleep. Dreaming that the sound was closer, that you were closer.

You’ve been rotating between sitting on the floor and standing for two hours while Leon snored softly. A soft smile plastered to your face, he still made you feel like this. You should hate him and part of you does, but the majority of you feels differently. He broke your heart so bad that you never thought you would get over it, and you haven’t. You just moved forward. What were you supposed to do? He had proven to you that you weren’t enough. That you could give it all up and you still couldn’t deliver. Maybe it was a misunderstanding, maybe it was always destined to be this way, but whatever it was it hurt. It penetrated your heart and twisted itself-infecting itself in you - and it nearly consumed you. Yet, you still felt bad for screaming at him until your throat was too dry to speak another word.

“Chris? Claire? Please.” You sighed, “Redfield.” You pushed the ear piece further into your ear while you were greeted to the sound of static. “Dammit.” Your arms flying out from you in frustration. You looked over to Leon who was still asleep, thankful for not waking him.

You wondered if he slept enough. It was always something he was terrible at doing. He constantly pushes himself to the edge and beyond and you remember having to beg him to come to bed. To you it was a lot of begging, to him he caved rather easily. Looking for an excuse to have you wrapped up in his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. He made you feel safe, he always has.

You and Leon meddled together so perfectly and effortlessly that it made you question every thought that you had ever had about love before meeting him. That maybe the general population was on to something when it came to the craziest four letter word that meant the world to everyone.

That’s when the question crossed your mind again. For the first time since your wedding night you wondered, did you feel that way about Bill? You bit your lip and started to pace back and forth. You shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, you told yourself you wouldn’t ever think about it again. You felt a blanket of shame cover you as you pushed the ear piece back further into your ear.

“Claire Redfield, do you copy?” You asked, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Hello?” It was quiet and you barely heard it, but it was there. It was Claire. You quickly readjusted the frequency on your smart device and tried again.

“Claire Redfield, do you copy?”

Silence.

“I copy.” You opted for a sigh of relief over a squeal of joy.

“It’s (Y/N). How well can you hear me? Over.”

“(Y/N)! Boy am I glad to hear from you!” Claire rejoiced loudly as she looked over to her brother. He smiled before looking back to the road and blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“You won’t be when I tell you to turn around.” You laughed, trying to keep a sense of humor.

“What? Why?”

“Hunnigan has informed me that their location has changed. They’ll be docking at Port Sutton in less than thirteen hours. If my GPS is right you should be able to make it in four hours, just beating Leon and I there by fifteen minutes.”

“You’re with Leon?” Claire asked, stumbling over the words. Leon mentioned the encounter to the two of them briefly. It was enough for them to know it was intense and left Leon in a mixture of anger and depression.

“Yeah, I was supposed to be with your brother. But let’s not worry about it right now. I’ll have to teach you guys how to read at a later date.” Your teasing was met with a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll send you the exact coordinates and hopefully you’ll receive them if the connection stays strong enough.” You were quick to send them the information and crossed your fingers hoping that it got to them.

“Got it. We’ll see you there. Out.”

“I will see you there. Out.” You switched channels quickly and then called for Ingrid.

“Here.” She confirmed her presence as her eyes served as windows for her brain to absorb the information she was reading.

“I got into contact with Claire and sent out the information they needed. It took me long enough though.”

“Good. That cabin is still holding up?” She asked.

“Luckily.”

“How’s Chris?”

“Good.” Your stomach tightened, “He’s good. Sleeping.”

“When will you both start moving?”

“A few hours. He needs this more than you know.” Ingrid picked up on the high pitch in your tone, confirming her suspicions. “How’s Sydney?”

“Bill just put her to bed.”

“How’s Bill?”

“Good. He’s worried, but I keep assuring him you’re fine. You’re with Chris.” She put heavy emphasis on Chris’s name, telling you that she knew you were with Leon. She knew you were lying.

“Right.” A frown tugged deeper into the corners of your mouth. You yawned and lightly scratched your scalp, “Alright, I’m going to go. I will contact you when we hit the ground running. Out.” You didn’t let Ingrid confirm her leave as you took the ear piece out of your ear. Unable to take her chastising right now. She knew you were weak.

You grew increasingly frustrated with yourself as you went and fixed one of the chairs to where you could sit comfortably.

A mix of emotions pooling in your stomach as you sat there. Anxiety, disgust, and confusion mixed with bile as it worked its way up your throat; your stomach full of guilt for being relieved that you found Leon instead of Chris.

You loved Bill. You really really loved Bill. You loved your daughter more than anything even though you weren’t tied to her by blood. You loved the life you had grown into. Yet, there was still something missing. Something that kept you below the waves, kept you cold, kept you quiet. With an exhausted sigh the palms of your hands found your face.

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you sniffed, trying not to cry. You’ve cried too much and you don't want to cry anymore. Bringing your knees to your chest you realized how cold you were. Your joints ache and your fingers burnt as you wrap them around your legs. You squeezed the rough fabric of your pants as you took in a sharp breath. Unoccupied hands allowed your thoughts to settle. “Fuck.” You mumble again, biting your lip.

Just as the damn was about to break you heard Leon groan, causing you to shoot up. Your feet hit the floor as you were quick to his bedside. You looked at him cautiously as his face scrunched in discomfort. As it relaxed the effect of time making itself present on his face. He has aged right along with you- and in your opinion time was kinder to him than you. You both were still so young, yet you felt like you looked closer to your eighties than your thirties. You went to brush some of his hair out of his eye but stopped halfway there. Your hand lingering, too afraid to take the leap forward.

Leon grunted before letting out a whimper that you knew was pain. Your hand found his shoulder unable to watch the mental effects of his nightmare on his face.

“Leon.” You shook him lightly, “Leon, wake up.” Your tone is gentle but still as firm as you could make it. “Le-.”

You were cut short as his hand found your wrist in a tight grip as his eyes shot open, his body ready to fight. In the milliseconds that it took for him to realize the situation and the look of fear on your face caused his grip to lighten. “You’re okay, just a nightmare.” You cooed. Not fearful of him, fearful for him. Leon started to breath as he subconsciously let go of your wrist and sandwiched his fingers between yours holding your hand. You tethered him to Earth as he avoided your eye contact.

“You’re freezing.” He pointed out to you as his eyes remained glued to the wooden floor. He squeezed your hand slightly and you returned the gesture. The lack of your wedding band nearly caused him to forget his place.

“I know. This place isn’t exactly heated.” You smiled trying to joke with him. Trying to give him a sign to trust you. “Do you want to talk about it?” Leon shut his eyes and shook his head. He didn’t want to imagine your lifeless body again.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“About two and half hours.” The confession comes out slow, hoping he wouldn’t be too upset at you. He scoffed, shaking his head.

“Did you get into contact with Claire or Chris?”

“Yes. It took awhile, but I got them. I sent the coordinates to them and they should be on the right track to meet us there.” You looked at him, wanting him to look back at you. “We can start moving if you want, but we have time to spare if you’d like to just breathe. We’d be on the earlier side of things if we leave.” You gave him his options and as he weighed them your hand finally found its way to his hair. Your mind and body give to him in his time of discomfort.

He forgets himself as he looks at you, his body heating at the gentle lingering contact with you. A familiar tingle working its way up his spine, “Breathe.” He answers and a sad little smile finds your face as the softness of his hair threads through your fingers.

“Okay, then we breathe. No rush.” You soothed.

“You’re freezing.” He repeated, wanting to soothe you just as you soothe him. He stood and pulled back the thin blanket as he got up, not letting go of your hand as your other hand fell from his head. “We need to get you warmed up.”

“Leon.” You protested, having no faith in the blanket.

“Please.” He pleaded, he did as you wanted and now it was your turn. You sighed letting go of his hand and crawling into the bed. You pulled the blanket over you still cold.

“There.” You went to get back up but he stopped you as his hand found your shoulder.

“Wait.” His tone telling you to stay as he went to the dresser and opened the drawers looking for something, anything to help keep you warm. The search was useless though as he just found a couple worn out old books and disregarded water damaged paper. He sighed as he got up and made his way back to you. There was nothing and as he heard the slight chatter of your teeth as a cold chill ran up your spine he was out of options. He made his way back to you as his eyes softened, “Scoot over.” You raised an eyebrow but did as he said. The bed creaked in uncertainty, unsure if the dry rot of the wood would support the both of you. Miracles happen everyday though as it remained strong and Leon pulled you into his chest. Your whole body heated as he held you firmly against him. You breathed him in and found a safe haven in his arms. You relaxed quickly against him as your arms found their way to his sides, the palms of your hands pushing him closer to you as they rested against the firmness of his back.

“Warm.” You said against the fabric of his shirt, your eyes closing. He smiled warmly as he ran a hand up and down your back. He felt as if he was on cloud nine as he began to feel that same joy again as you rested against. Your frame fits so perfectly against him even after all this time. There was a sliver of him that feared you wouldn’t, that you had grown too accustomed to the feel of someone else. But you hadn’t, you were still made for him.

He breathed you in as he buried his head in the crook of your neck. You smelt the same, you felt the same, and it nearly made him cry. He hoped with every fiber of his being that he soothes you the way you soothe him. As your body relaxes he finds relief against you. Forgiveness nearly makes him weep as his grip on you tightness, not wanting to leave this moment. Selfishly he wants to run from this with you, he wants to truly apologize to you. He wants to make up for lost time. He wants you completely, wholly, selfishly.

“Why?” You ask and as the question falls from your lips he realizes he’s too late.

“I didn’t want you to change for me. I didn’t want you to marry me because you felt like you had too.”

“You asked me and I said yes. I was ready. I was tired. I wanted you.” You buried your head into his chest as your shoulders jolted upward, muffling the sound of a hic. Warm tears piercing the fabric of his shirt.

“I couldn’t bring myself to believe otherwise. You always spoke of never wanting a family, never wanting to settle, and I couldn’t be the one to force you into something you didn’t really want.” His heart shattered as he strung together words that only made sense to him. Tears silently and slowly falling from his own eyes.

“I wanted you so bad. I wanted a life with you so bad that settling down felt like the only thing I had ever wanted.” Your fingers dug into his back and his heart shattered. “I loved you, I loved you, I loved you.” Your screams muffled by his chest as he was reduced to dust as he held you against him. You were so mad, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.” Your lies came out broken as you sobbed against him. His hand intertwined with your hair as he scratched your scalp lightly, trying to comfort you. He placed a firm kiss on your head as he sniffed.

His fault, it was all his fault and there was no one to blame but himself. He could’ve had it all and saved himself so much time, if he just would’ve taken the leap of faith that his heart had told him to take. He wouldn’t be here struggling to keep the broken bits together.

As your sobbing subsided you tried to catch your breath while still remaining glued to him. Your eyes heavy and weak as you tried to bring yourself to pry yourself away from him.

You were successful as you sat up with regret, knowing that you will never hold Leon like that again. He refused to let you go though as he held your left hand, his thumb ghosting by your bare ring finger. Wishing that the ring he got you was there and not the imprint of the one Bill gave you. You dreamed with him while you wiped your eyes and tried to piece yourself together. You had to finish this for your daughter. You had to finish this for your husband. It was time to say goodbye, but time didn’t exist in this cabin. This broken cabin that held the only person that could make home anywhere.

“Do you still love me?” Leon asked with baited breath. A last ditch question that could no longer remain on the tip of his tongue. He needed to know. He didn’t care if it was too late or if Bill already had you in the palm of his hand; he just needed to know if he remained in your heart the way you did in his.

Your brows furrowed as your glassy eyes met his. Your ribs aching as your heart reached for him. A cold rush running down your spine as your shoulders relaxed and you finally admitted, “I still love you.”

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dramalets · 6 months

Text

2024 Watch List pt3

Takura-kun & Amagi-kun - This has lots of the Japanese traits that I don’t always love but I did find myself warmed by it. It’s basically two boys being teenage and idiotic whilst learning how to love and be loved. I really liked the two besties in this. 3/5 (13/3/24)

Although I love you, and you? - Apparently this is wildly different from the manga so people were hating on it but, with zero knowledge of the manga, I have to say I enjoyed it. Very silly but had a nice emotional depth to it and Sakae & Soga made for interesting leads. Also loved the little found family of friends and bar regulars. 3 ½/5 (15/3/24)

One Room Angel - This could really only be Japanese. Beautiful, bittersweet and healing this does come with a lot of trigger warnings but if you can stomach it’s darker elements it’s really worth the journey. 4/5 (26/3/24)

Love is science (BL cut) - Just about an hour on YouTube this was delightful. Undoubtedly would not have enjoyed all the different het storylines but these two should have been a show on their own. Just lush. (No rate because it’s a cut. 28/3/24)

Senpai this can’t be love - Errm. Elements I really liked, and I don’t think it’s anywhere near as bad as some make it out to be, but it did have a very naff ending and they deserved a better kiss. These two were cute but probably not one I’ll reach to rewatch. 3/5 (30/3/24)

WaterBoyy - I really only watched this because I’m a dumbass with completionist tendencies. It’s a show? The story and script are absolutely insane. There is so much het nonsense, which I entirely skipped, weird dated language and extremely 2017 dubcon. I can give a lot of old shows a pass for being of their time but this is bad even by 2017 standards. I’ll give it a half point for being moderately well acted. But that’s it. 1/2 (1/4/24)

Our Dating Sim - Very cute. Packed a surprising amount of story into a short time frame. Also delivered some nice kisses. 3/5 (2/4/24)

Jun & Jun - Enjoyed most of this. Episodes 5 & 6 felt a little redundant. Great kisses, much higher heat than standard for a K BL. Would have loved more from the manager & idol pairing, they had an interesting history and I’d like to have seen them a little more developed. I could understand why no man could resist Lee Jun’s face, a 100% cutie. 3/5 (3/4/24)

Love is better the second time around - Much to love about this one. The acting all round was stunning, Aloha as Senpai’s bitchy assistant was hilarious and I need him in a main BL role again soon, the leads were able to tell whole stories in subtle facial expressions. I think the end was satisfying but I did feel like it could have used 8 episodes instead of 6. 4/5 (10/4/24)

Unknown - Quite the surprise. I’m a little hesitant with the pseudo incest, brother lover whatever the hell you want to call it trope. But this was done beautifully well. A mild melodrama with slice of life and found family at its core this is wholly worth your time and I loved it a lot. 5/5 (20/4/24)

We Best Love (1) - I definitely did enjoy this but it also didn’t overly wow me. Shu Yi is my perfect brand of arrogant stupidity wrapped up in a pissed off little cat package so he was an easy and delightful sell for me. Also obsessed with the cousin doctor. Sam Lin and Yu have extremely good chemistry and I’m excited to watch the second series. 3 ½/5 (29/4/24)

Two Worlds - This was silly and pulpy from the get go and stayed that way. The holes have holes in this and the ending was very expected but, having said all this, I still very much enjoyed myself. Wandee knows that mindless pulp & MaxNat are a great combo and truly it is. Would make an easy, delicious spam. 3/5 (16/5/24)

Boys be brave - This felt more Japanese than Korean in some parts? Lots of character examination and broken boys being stubborn. (100% more so in the secondary pairing which really never got explored enough for my tastes.) Overall I found this very enjoyable and it didn’t entirely fluff its ending up. 3 ½/5 (16/5/24)

23.5 - I don’t think this is without its issues but the things it did well I feel it did really well. The teens in this were authentically stupid and all their problems were also accurately teen. Ignore reviews telling you the writing is bad, it isn’t, it’s just extremely specifically teen. None of the problems the girls have are relatable for adults honestly but if you’re someone who never outgrew your teen angst or is just able to remember that period well you’ll enjoy this. Milk & Love were superb as was the entire cast. I’d love more light GL stories like this one and less melodrama and sadness. 3 ½/5 (24/5/24)

#Takura-kun & Amagi-kun #although i love you and you #one room angel #love is science #senpai this can’t be love #WaterBoyy #our dating sim #jun & jun #love is better the second time around #unknown series #we best love #two worlds #boys be brave #23.5 degrees

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tartarusknight · 2 years

Text

King of the Freaks | Part 10

Ao3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Eddie wasn’t sure what had happened but suddenly Steve was distant. Monday he had bags under his eyes and during Hellfire, he spent it upstairs working on homework he claimed he couldn’t procrastinate. On Tuesday Steve stopped by the table to get a Tupperware container back from Jeff before he disappeared again and he didn’t speak to Eddie once in the few classes they shared. But he did see him talking with a girl that he didn’t know. Jealousy bubbled up but it was not like anything Eddie could do would be enough. It's falling for a straight boy 101. However, the only thing that didn’t change was the short calls after nine.

On Wednesday, Eddie had a plan. And he put it into motion as the bell rang. He'd have a few minutes until he had to be in the next one. “Hey, Steve!” Eddie jogged to meet up with Steve as he exited English. Steve paused, looking back and waiting for him. “Hey,” Eddie said stupidly but it made a small smile appear on Steve’s face. “So, we don’t have school on Friday,” Eddie started and Steve just raised an eyebrow. “We were talking about all meeting up and smoking if you wanted to join us. Well, uh, we were wondering if you wanted to-”

“Host?” Steve offered and while Eddie hadn’t really had a solid train of thought, so, he clung to the offered hand.

He nodded, “Just like hanging out, ya know.”

Steve picked at one of the books in his hand, “if you guys wanted you could just stay the night. Since you’re all already going to be over for Hellfire anyways. Uh-” Steve cut himself off and he looked a little panicked. “Uh, I don’t have any breakfast foods… maybe it’s easier to-”

Eddie threw his arm around Steve, “want to go shopping with me then? After school, we can head over to the store and pick up anything we’d need. We can all pitch in-”

“Money’s not a problem,” Steve waved his hand and he seemed to lean into Eddie. “Sure, yeah, sounds great. You know what they like,” he says softly and Eddie’s heart bursts as Steve looks over at him. Their so close and Eddie’s going to die. “See you after school then,” Steve says softly and ducks from Eddie’s arm, giving him a wiggle of his fingers in goodbye. Eddie needs a second to get his heart to restart.

He forced himself through the rest of the day until he spotted Steve leaning against the van looking so fucking bored. The mean girl inside of Steve crawls out as people give him weird looks. Eddie wants to run over but he forces himself to keep it cool. He didn’t need to scare Steve off just because of the stupid crush.

Steve tried to look unbothered as Eddie reached him. “We can take my car.” He offers and Eddie snickers.

“Why? Do you not like my driving?” He watches Steve’s eyes narrow in the best way. The way that meant he was trying to hold back a bitchy comment. “Come on, why don’t I drive?”

Steve scoffed, “I’m not dying today, come on.” He grabs Eddie’s jacket and pulls him over to the Beamer.

Eddie slips into the passenger seat and leans on his arm to look over at Steve. He was backing out of the parking lot with ease. And while he looked good when he drove Eddie’s van. He looked completely in his element here in his car. Eddie forced himself to snap out of it and he fiddled with Steve’s radio. Steve didn’t even look mad as Eddie fiddled with his stuff.

“So, what are your plans for Thanksgiving?” Eddie asked when the silence seemed to grow awkward. He thinks that maybe if he got used to being alone with Steve, it wouldn’t be so bad. But at this moment he’s used to having others acting as a crutch.

Steve glanced over and shrugged, “I never really celebrated it, to be honest. I think Dustin’s been bothering Claudia, his mom, to let me come over but I’m not really sure.” Steve chuckled, “you’d think I told him that the world was ending when I said I didn’t celebrate it anymore. He started rambling about giving me the best holiday. I think he thinks that he could make this into my favorite holiday if he tried hard enough.”

Eddie smiled as Steve lit up talking about the younger boy. He always lit up when talking about the kids but Dustin was always unique. His whole body lit up when he spoke about the kid. “So, what is your favorite holiday then?” He asked and Steve tensed a little, glancing over at Eddie.

“Come on, you didn’t even let me ask a question. The polite thing to do is switch at the very least,” Steve complained. "Then it's a proper conversation and not an interrogation."

Eddie couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping, “Fine. Hit me with a question, big boy.”

Steve hummed, “what are you doing for Thanksgiving? Are you spending it with Wayne?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, “wow that was two questions. But I’ll allow it, I suppose. Yeah, me and Wayne usually make a nice breakfast. I can’t cook for shit but I’m getting pretty good at breakfast foods.” Eddie laughs and Steve nods, “It’s nothing special. Afterward, Wayne will go to work because they pay double for it. Then I’ll usually head over to Gareth’s.”

Steve pulls into the parking lot and Eddie turns in his seat to face him, “now, what’s your favorite holiday?”

It makes Steve roll his eyes, “fine. Geez not gonna let it go, I guess.” Steve clears his throat, “I- my family stopped celebrating holidays these past few years honestly. So, I don’t have a favorite or least favorite anymore. But when my Grandpa was around, he’d throw these big parties on the 4th of July.”

“Yeah?” Eddie questioned and Steve got a sad look in his eyes.

“Yeah, it was nice. It um- I was actually born on the 4th, so he’d make a big deal out of it.” Steve admitted and as he turned off the car there was something sad in his eyes.

Eddie reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze. Steve’s eyes shut until Eddie pulled his hand back, “It sounds fun.” Steve nodded before getting out of the car.

They headed into the store and Steve grabs a basket before looking at Eddie. “So, where to first?” He asks and Eddie grins before leading him further into the store. And Eddie tries his very best to stay focused on the task but he’s never been good in the grocery store. There was always something to stop and look at. Always something that caught his attention and had him veering off to check it out. Normally he always went alone with a list. That way if he got distracted it wouldn’t annoy anyone but himself. However, Steve just glanced over and followed him. Asking why Eddie found it interesting.

Suddenly their basket was full of not just breakfast foods but also weird foods Eddie’s always thought looked weird. Steve even grabbed a dragon fruit. Like anything Eddie thought looked good, was good enough reasoning. It made Eddie’s chest swell and his tongue twist until he couldn’t say a single word. Still, Steve looked over at him with a small smile and grabbed cranberry juice because Eddie rambled about how Grant loved it but Eddie thought it was weird. It made his mouth tingle and Steve explained how he could be allergic, Eddie just shrugged.

“Steve,” a voice broke through the mess that was this trip and Eddie looked back to see an uncomfortable-looking Nancy with her mom, Mike, and a little girl. Nancy’s mom was the one who called out to Steve and Eddie saw Mike roll his eyes, even as he headed closer to Steve like it was an impulse.

“Stevie!” The little girl cheered and wiggled in her mom’s arms until she was put down. Steve easily bent to place the basket on the ground and catch the little girl in his arms.

“Oh my! It’s Holly-berry,” Steve said in a happy tone as he stood and spun her. The little girl giggled and clung to Steve.

He easily held the girl close as the other Wheelers headed over at a much slower pace. “Mrs. Wheeler,” Steve greets and it’s not nearly as happy as it had been for Holly. “Mike,” Steve drawled and got a glare because of it. Then he just gave Nancy a small smile.

“Stevie,” Holly tugged on Steve’s shirt and Steve just huffed a laugh. “Tea party?” She asked and Eddie swore he saw actual regret in Steve’s eyes.

He bounced her to make her laugh again before he said anything. “Sorry, not right now. Maybe another time,” he said and Eddie wondered if it was a lie.

Nancy’s mom glanced over at him from where he stood awkwardly beside Steve. “You’re a Munson, right?” She asked and Nancy glared at her mom for a moment. “I’m Karen Wheeler,” she smiled and Eddie awkwardly shook her hand.

“Eddie,” he says and Steve glances over at him. Then he eyes Karen carefully like he didn’t trust her and it made Eddie grow tense.

Karen doesn’t seem to notice, she just places a hand on Steve’s shoulder, “it’s been so long. We’ve missed having you around.”

Eddie knows he isn’t the only one who notices how uncomfortable Nancy is. Mike looks away like he hates this and Steve just smiles a tense smile. “Well, Mrs. Wheeler, you know you can always call me if you need a babysitter.” Steve shrugs but he doesn’t look at Nancy.

“Please, call me Karen, Steve. I've said it a million times... You know, I still don’t know why you two broke up,” Karen says like it’s normal to bring this up in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store. Her hand is still on Steve, gently rubbing a circle on his shoulder like it was normal. Eddie didn’t like it but Steve wasn’t shrugging it off.

Steve was, instead, smiling. “Well, uh, Karen, it’s because we didn’t work out. Not a big deal,” he bends down, making Karen’s hand slip from his shoulder, and places Holly on the ground. He grabs their basket and glances over at him. “It was great seeing you,” he said softly then did a little sweep with his eyes. “Mike, best behavior, right?” He teases him and goes to walk off but Karen is touching him again.

“What are you boys up to?” She glances at the mess that is in their basket.

Steve clears his throat, and his eyes glance at Karen’s hand. “I’ve got a few people spending a night at mine. So, he’s helping me shop for foods everyone will like.”

Eddie nods, “yep. We should get moving. Bye Wheelers,” then he grabs Steve’s arm, pulling Steve from the others. Steve stumbles a little before righting himself. “We’ve still got to grab bread.” He says to Steve, trying to pull Steve’s attention to him and away from the Wheelers. Steve nods and easily follows after him.

Eddie glances back and Karen had Holly back in her arms, talking with her kids. Both Nancy and Mike looked annoyed at their mom. Eddie looked to Steve who did look a little uncomfortable now that they moved away from them. “Sorry, you had to deal with that.” Eddie offered and Steve glanced over.

He shrugged, “I guess I’m used to it.” Eddie wondered what part he was used to. Being asked about Nancy. Having to talk with the Wheelers even though he’s done with Nancy. People just touching him. Although that might only bother Eddie because he's a jealous little shit.

Steve straightened up and looked over the loaves of bread, “It’s whatever. They’ll always think I broke up with Nancy and it’s fine.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed, “really? But she got with Jonathan right after.”

Steve laughed but it wasn’t happy, “well, I’m the one with the reputation. She’s the innocent girl who dated Steve Harrington, a serial dater. Who would believe that I was the one who got their heart broken?” He didn’t look at Eddie but Eddie desperately wanted to grab and shake him. Tell Steve that he believed. That he saw him. Even through all those walls he had, Eddie saw him.

“Anything else we need?” Steve questioned, turning towards the checkouts. Eddie shook his head and followed silently. They got their couple of bags before heading out to the car. Eddie headed to the trunk but Steve stopped him. “Uh, it’s full back there.” He said before he opened the back door. He placed his bag inside and gestured for Eddie to do the same. Eddie shoved the bag in and shut the door.

The drive back to the school was quiet this time. Steve’s mind was somewhere else as he pulled into the parking spot next to Eddie’s van. “Right, well, see ya tomorrow,” Steve said awkwardly. Eddie hopped out but before he got into his van he stopped. He turned and knocked on Steve’s window. Steve looked confused as Eddie opened his door. “Eddie?” He questioned and Eddie gestured for him to get up. He did as requested and as soon as he was standing, Eddie pulled him into a hug.

Steve was tense for a moment before he seemed to melt into it just like he had the last time. The time when Steve was so tired he didn’t have those walls and clung onto Eddie. “I’m sorry no one believed you. But I do, I promise that I’m here for you.” He said into Steve’s ear and Steve’s arms wrapped around him tightly. “You’ve got people on your side now, Steve.”

He pulled back and Eddie looked over Steve’s face, seeing a soft brokenness in his eyes. “Right, uh, you do too. I mean, you already did but now you’ve also got me… on your side! Like I’m in your corner,” Steve had a nice blush covering his face and Eddie liked it.

He nodded and took a step back, “right. Good to know pretty boy.” Then, of course, Eddie had to say something so obvious and stupid. It make his heart jump and he laughed, “uh. Yep, we’re friends. Good friends. Good to get that settled. Talk to you later, friend.” He grinned too wide and jumped into his van, starting it up. Steve was getting back into the Beamer as Eddie drove off wanting to scream at his stupidity.

@zerokrox-bloglog @cyranyxx @adaed5 @the-redthreadd @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaringceyoustopcaring @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshitorthisshit @failedstarsandgoldencloudsds @bisexualdisastersworldd @deadlydodoss @anythingyouwanttobee @nburkhardtt @bestwifehaverr @thehumblefigtreee @megzdoodlee @swimmingbirdrunningrockk @mightbeasleepp @bxlthazarar @autumnal-dawnn @chillichatss @nonbinary-eddie-munsonon @the-daydreamer-in-the-cornerner @eddie-munson-is-my-wifewife @a-little-unsteddiedie @sharingisntkaren @a-huge-nerdy-nerd @0o-queendean-o0 @beckkthewreck @vi-an-te @vampireinthesun @newtstabber @dinosareawesome2137 @spicemallow @hellomynameismoo @luthienstormblessed @briceslayed @angeldreamsoffanfic @dbquills @prideandsensibility @iwouldsail @ponfarrtimeatthevulcannightclub @spectrum-spectre @the-chilly-kat @yearningagain @loopsmd @starlight-archer @sleepy-time @goodolefashionedloverboi @crazyshipper67 @sherrylyn628 @bidisastersworld @v3lnys @n0connections cherixxx69 theotalksalot tailsfromthecrypt ledleaf grimmfitzz @pyrohonk

(I can’t tag anymore people I’m sorry!!! If you want to stay updated pls follow me or go onto Ao3 and subscribe to the story!)

#Eddie is a simp #Karen makes me uncomfortable #pre steddie #season 2 au #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #eddie munson #the wheelers #karen wheeler #high school au #hellfire club #steve needs a hug #steve x eddie #stranger things #the fallen king and the king of the freaks

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its-to-the-death · 8 months

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Bracket F thoughts:

Jesus flipping crisis, those fucking elephant calls in "Prowler's theme" are so terrifying. Also I really like how it's basically Miles' theme in reverse, both because of how it emphasizes the relationship between Miles and Aaron and because of...certain events in Across the Spiderverse.

"Candy Store" has that bitchy confidence, but "Mother Knows Best" is the emotional abuser's anthem par excellence. Like I could do a whole ask dissecting all the shit Gothel pulls in that one song to undermine and manipulate Rapunzel.

(She'd be one of my favorite Disney villains if she wasn't also a heaping pile of antisemitic stereotypes...)

I was liking "The Music of the Night," but then it tried to murder my ears with that organ(?) at the end, so I'll give this one to "What's Up Duloc?", which is also admittedly quite good.

One of these won the 1994 Razzie for Worst Original Song. The other is Rachel L Hughes playing a megalomaniacal dictator crooning about her space train (which she fucks) that definitely is not going to unleash Yog Sogoth ;). Vote for "Odin" right now.

"Dressed to Oppress" is delightful, but oh my god that reprise of "Good Kid" in "The Last Day of Summer" hits like a truck.

As people have discussed in the notes, "The Convoluted Reasons We Pretend to Be Divorced" is not that villainous--and frankly I didn't find it as much of a bop as some other PnF songs I've listened to. "We Both Reached For the Gun" is a masterclass is manipulation as Billy plays the press for suckers so completely he doesn't even need Roxy to speak for him by the end. Also the fucking puppet acting, wow.

...Ok it might not be the best villain song, but "Penny battle theme" goes so hard I had to support it. Sue me.

I voted "Someone Gets Hurt," but they're both great. That one was close.

"One-Winged Angel" is iconic and intimidating, but I personally prefer the energy of "Cell-Block Tango." The dancing is amazing, the lyrics are witty, and the chorus is an earworm and a half. I also like the use of visual symbolism with the red handkerchiefs to symbolize how each murderess killed her victim(s)--except the innocent Hungarian woman, who dances angelic ballet to their aggressive tango and is the only one with a white handkerchief.

Who doesn't love an unabashed villainess who destroys worlds in battle armor and sneakers? "I'm the Bad Guy" is a bop.

"Pieces of You" is a goofy and terrifying fever dream of a song, holy fuck. The visuals give this one the edge for me. Also, don't you want to support The Substitute? He's just a little guy :)

"A Freak Like Me Needs Company" ultimately just got kind of lost for me--it focused too much on villains in general and not on Norman himself, while "The Only Thing I Know For Real" is both a kickass rock song and a great piece of characterization for Jetstream Sam.

...I don't know, I like Zelena's actress' singing and I think it's funny that she's not cursed to sing in this episode and she's just doing this for shits and giggles. I voted "Wicked Always Wins."

To quote someone in the comments of the "Bloody Party/Welcome to Cake Island" video, "This is the most Disney-like bulshit [sic] I have ever seen in an anime, and I fucking love it." What the fuck is happening. Why are these people committing casual mass murder for cake ingredients. Why are inanimate objects singing along with this pirate lady. I don't know but it scares me.

"The Smell of Rebellion" really picks up in the end, and "Love For Peasants" felt a little too unfocused musically. Also, @thatsluttytiefling mentioned that the song gave them "war flashbacks to the choreo," so it is villainous IRL as well.

Oh my god how the fuck did "This is the Thanks I Get" get released in this state. The lyrics don't rhyme properly and are exceedingly awkward to boot. The chorus is bland as shit. The visuals are boring. There's no buildup from "I'm an underappreciated hero doing my best for the kingdom and nobody respects me enough :(" to "I want ULTIMATE POWAH through DAAAAAARK MAGIC" and then it suddenly just switches back to how it was before??? It's not intimidating and scary, it's silly for all the wrong reasons, it's not even particularly sympathetic, and it is reeking of trying to be hip and cool and/or being written by people with too little time and too few fucks to give. "Heaven on Their Minds" is very good in its own right, but I kind of already knew which one was better before I even heard it, because this song just...doesn't do its job.

I agree that the villain Phineas and Ferb songs aren't among the best the show has to offer.

#pulling from the pot of asks #villain song showdown

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sissytobitch10seconds · 3 months

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Running

Fandom: Helluva Boss Summary: Blitz's shit day gets even worse when he sees a familiar face. It spurs him into something horrible that he can't really take back, but at least he didn't hurt anyone else this time. Warnings: Depression, PTSD, anxiety, binge drinking, explicit depictions of poverty, and manic episodes Word Count: 5,600 Ship(s): Blitzo Buckzo & Loona

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A/N: So I saw a post asking for a fic of Blitz scribbling his face out of all the pictures in his apartment and this is what it turned into. For those of you who don't know, I'm very into Blitz and all of his messy, messy angst so it was really fun for me to get deep into it. This fic is heavy, so make sure to read the tags and proceed with caution if any of those things could trigger you. Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

The streets of Imp City were overflowing with people, both sinners and other imps. It was hard to navigate them on a good day but it felt as though he were back in the circus when he tried to push his way through them now.

He’d had another shit day, which wasn’t exactly rare for him. He was good at beginning to dig a hole and then just never stopping, at least until he reached bedrock or the shovel was taken from him by someone that had more common sense. He’d been like that all his life, which was how he had ended up where he was instead of on top of the world like a lot of other imps from his circus had.

The billboard for Fizz’s newest show appeared just in time to remind him how much of a failure he really was.

The two of them had been best friends for years, ever since Fizz was left at the circus and the attempt to find his mother had been for naught. They had been joined at the hip from that moment onward, always practicing and performing with each other. When they got older they grew apart as they began to find the niches that fit them best. Blitz began to perform exclusively with Barbie because the twin angle was a really good selling point, but he was always right beside his best friend as soon as he was off the trapeze or highwire. Fizz had seemed to like it, sharing all the same interests as Blitz even if their interests became different as they grew up.

Then the fire had happened. Blitz still wasn’t quite sure why the tent had lit so quickly or why the fireworks had been stored inside of the giant canvas death trap they worked in every day, but he had lost everything on that day. He had been turned away from his best friend’s bedside not only after the fire, but every month that he returned to try and contact him. Eventually he had just given up trying, Fizz didn’t want to see him and now he knew why.

While Blitz had been shoved out of the circus and had no one to fall back on, Fizz had a massive corporate sponsor. He had gotten the best prosthetics and a place to live while he was recovering. Blitz had gotten the cheapest fake eye that money could steal and had lived on the streets for an entire year before he had gotten his first job at Loo Loo Land. Fizz had been able to pursue the dream that he’d had, getting hoards of adoring fans and billboards in all seven rings. Blitz was struggling to keep his business from closing and putting all of his friends and family out of house and home.

He knew that he deserved it, since the fire was his fault in the first place. His father had read him the riot act after he had woken up in the hospital, it was a lecture he was never going to forget.

He tried to shake those words off of his shoulders now. They were ringing through is head and falling out of his ears so that they doused his body with the uncomfortable memories of what his life had been like back then. But it had been almost fifteen years and he was an adult, not some kid that was desperately vying for any kind of adult approval that he could get.

The reminder that he was an adult and didn’t need the approval of those around him reminded him of the options that he had to deal with his bad day. The customers that had spat in his face to seethed too long about how shit their lives had been wouldn’t be able to stick with him if he scrubbed the wounds that they had created off with some alcohol. He was technically supposed to be heading down to the store so that he could pick up some dinner for him and Loona, but she had mentioned something about going out with some friends.

While Blitz was glad that she was getting to know more hellhounds, he wasn’t sure if he totally approved of the crowd that she was hanging out with now. They pulled her away from him whenever they got a chance, which he could understand since she was a young person still living at home with her adoptive father. It hurt him, though, because when he had first adopted her she had followed him around wherever he went just to make sure that he wasn’t going to send her back to the pound like her last couple adopters had. She had since learned that he was exactly the opposite and she wasn’t too keen on that either, so she was pushing him away so that she could have her own space.

With that being said, he knew that she wouldn’t be at home. The last couple times that he had tried to get her to spend some quality time with him, even just as friends instead of father-and-daughter, she had bailed so that she could spend time with people that were more her speed. He knew that he would have done the same when he was a teenager or young adult, if he hadn’t lost his mother to those damn hellfire flames.

The memories were piling onto his mind and refusing to leave him alone, which just hardened his resolve. He turned at the corner where he was meant to continue going straight and began to search for whatever skeevy dive bar he could drink dry and run out on. Most of the establishments like that in Imp City were run by sinners, so he didn’t really give a shit if they lost a bunch of money on him. They’d already had a chance at life and he was on his first, so they could pay to let him forget all of the shit that was haunting him.

He found one without having to do too much searching. The first bar he had come across was overflowing with drunk college-age imps, so he had passed it by and instead come to the one a little further down the block. It was only six o’clock in the evening so there were very few people inside, for Hell that was. Thirty people all drinking and talking amongst each other felt like something that he could handle in the bad mood that he was in. He hadn’t quite gotten to the point where he needed to drown his sorrows in the biggest bottle of alcohol that he could find, yet.

The establishment wasn’t the shittiest place that he had ever been, but it also wasn’t really nice in any sense of the word. The wood of the walls had peeling wallpaper around the seams and at the top, in a way that spoke of too many humid days and not enough upkeep. The wallpaper itself was a nice yellow color, likely to disguise all the cigarette smoke that he collected there in a way that the ceiling simply couldn’t. The ground was covered in a collection of peanut shells, hay, and sawdust. The seats were all made of the same dark wood as the floor, underneath all the clutter, but the stools had some dark red fabric on them that was beginning to peel away from the base of the seat. The walls were mostly barren except for a couple framed and signed pictures of the Sins of Pride and Gluttony.

He sat down on one of the barstools as far away from everyone else as he could get. He waited for the bartender to pop up from where they were down inside of the bar, fixing the soda machine. It was one of the only bad things about drinking that late into the evening, that being that he had to put up with the repairs and maintenance of the establishment before he could get served.

Blitz felt his heart stop and then jump into his throat when he saw that the bartender of this particular place happened to be a Fizzbot. They were colored according to the bar, with yellow colored skin instead of the white that was common on most other Fizzies and red clothing with the symbol of the bar on their chest.

“I thought that this place was run by a succubus,” Blitz blurted out before he could think of anything better to say. He had never had a good relationship with the robot versions of his childhood best friend, mostly because the first one that he had ever dealt with had been when he was working in Loo Loo Land. That job had been the worst thing that had happened to him because of when it had come into his life and the kinds of things that he had been put through while he was trying to earn enough money to stay afloat. At least with IMP he had some say about where he was going to be on most days, even if the deal with Stolas was beginning to get to be too much.

“What, you don’t want to flirt with me, Blitzo?” the Robo-Fizz asked with a wink of one of his red eyes.

A cold shot rang through Blitz all at once. He had thought that the Fizzbot in Loo Loo Land had heckled and jeered at him because that was what it was supposed to do. There was a show for the children that included a lot of jabs at the parents so that they would spend a lot of money trying to dunk the Fizzbot afterwards, not that they would ever be able to get that stupid paddle to move more than a centimeter backwards. He had assumed that the robot knew his name because he worked there, it was a device that was made to remember the names and faces of the people that were in the park so that it could convince kids to come back again.

The fact that an entirely different model knew his name and was already trying to heckle him meant something that he wasn’t sure was going to sit entirely well with him. He had never come to the bar before, outside of peaking in so that he could collect M&M when they were getting ready to go on another job, which was how he had known about the other bartender. This robot knew his name and what kinds of things he liked without ever having met him before.

“How do you know my name?” Blitz managed to get out around the panic that was clogging his throat.

“I know all about you, Blitzo! After all, how can all of Hell not be aware of the firestarter that almost ruined their favorite jester?” the Robo-Fizz asked. He was speaking softer now, so that the other patrons in the bar wouldn’t be able to hear what he was saying. Blitz was beginning to regret coming to the bar at this time of night, if he had come later there might have been enough people that he could persuade someone to buy him a drink instead of having to deal with a being that hated him without even knowing why.

“I didn’t- It was an accident,” he got out around a choked voice.

“What? I just asked if you wanted the firestarter jester,” the Robo-Fizz cackled at him. “Are you sure that you didn’t already come in drunk, friendo?”

That was something that he wasn’t expecting.

Blitz was fully aware that he had spent most of his childhood daydreaming instead of actually paying attention to the world around him, but none of his daydreams had ever gone that far. He had heard about people regressing back into nightmares or memories when they were faced with something that triggered them back to a traumatic part of his life, but he didn’t want to admit that what happened to Fizz had fucked him up so bad he wasn’t even hearing people speak properly to him.

He slipped off of his seat and said, “Suddenly, I’m not thirsty anymore.”

He was once again glad that there was barely anyone else in the bar because only a few of them turned their heads to follow him as he stumbled out of the bar. He was so glad that he wasn’t in one of the better establishments where an underpaid bouncer would have to walk him to his apartment to make sure that he didn’t die on the way home. Even though they were in Hell and the sinners had lowered a lot of the moral values that the hellborn used to have, it was important to bars and restaurants that they be known as a safe place to come. All of the places where people went when they wanted it to be a bloodsport were in Wrath and Envy, not Pride.

Blitz stopped when he got a few doors down and placed a hand on his head. He couldn’t get Fizz off his mind, and not the way that he had been struggling with when he was a teenager. Instead of images of what their future might be like, what Fizz might taste like when they kissed, or the way that his body leached warmth when they cuddled together, the only thing that he could hear was the jeering from every person that he had ever loved. Fizz was the loudest, informing him that he was truly unloveable and even if he had managed to get himself together long enough to actually confess, there was no way that it would have been reciprocated.

Then came the image of his most recent girlfriend, the relationship that he had actually tried to sustain before he had given it up to try out hook-up culture. Verosika had been so pretty and so kind to him in the beginning, whispering sweet things every time he wrapped an arm around her waist when they were at a bar. She had gotten so mean towards the end when he was pulling away from her to try and save himself. He didn’t blame her for doing that, he had been the worst boyfriend in the entire world to her and no doubt deserved everything she had dolled out and more. The last thing that she had said to him had been over the phone when she was screaming at him for taking her car and maxing out her credit cards, which was the end of their last ever date.

You are completely and entirely unlovable, Blitzo Buckzo.

He knew that it was true. The only person that had really loved him was his mother, and the only reason for that was because she was a good mom and he was her child. He couldn’t imagine Tilla as anything but a doting, adoring parent who would love him despite all his faults while also pushing him to do better and go further. She had loved him even when he had messed up his routine, even when he had flubbed some of the numbers on the accounts to try and get the circus a little bit of savings, even when he and his sister were in the worst spat they’d had to date.

Barbie might have loved him at some point, but she had left the same way that everyone he adored did. She had been his other half, his mirror in many ways so that she completed him the way that the reverse side of a coin did. The reason that they worked so well together when it came to performing on the high wire was specifically because of that bond they’d had together. She hadn’t ever put herself in the line of fire when his dad was screaming at him, but he wouldn’t ask her to. She was more delicate than he was and he had always been there to protect her. Until he had lit the only home that they had ever known and gotten their mother killed.

He hadn’t even realized that he was walking until he almost ran into someone on the sidewalk. The stout sinner turned to cuss at him in a language that he didn’t understand and he just took off. He knew the way back to his and Loona’s apartment like the back of his hand from anywhere in the city, so he didn’t have to think about that as he ran. He just focused on the way that his heart was hammering above the voices in his head and how his lungs burned while they tried to drag in the sulfurous air of his home.

He raced up the steps of the apartment as quickly as he could and then had to stop. He stood in front of the door with his hands shaking so badly that he could barely even separate his house keys from the clicker for the van. Finally, he shoved the key into the lock and opened it so that he could fling himself inside. He slammed the door shut and crumbled down against the finished wood, as if that would somehow make him less noticeable to the voices that were following him around in his own head.

Blitz brought his knees up to his chest as he placed his hands over his ears to try and drown out the thoughts plaguing him. He had been doing so well, putting on such a brave face to the people around him at work and coming into his office. He couldn’t believe that it was all crumbling down around him because of one shitty day at work and the bartender where he was going to drink his sorrows ended up being a Fizzbot.

At the reminder of alcohol, he tossed his keys down beside him and then got up so that he could find what was left in the liquor cabinet. Loona must have raided it recently because the only thing that they had was an entire vat of Millie’s awful apple cider from the year before.

He normally would have just rolled his eyes and instead chosen to eat nothing but dry cereal right out of the box, but he needed something to take off the edge so desperately that he was willing to risk the stomach ache he had gotten the last time he had tried it. So he wrapped his hand around the top of the massive bottle and yanked it out of the cabinet, not even bothering to close the door. He walked over to the kitchen counter and pried the stopper out of the top, which released the sickly sweet aroma into the air. Millie apparently used to make this with her parents back when she lived in the ranch in Wrath, but she had a specific type of apple tree that simply couldn’t be found in Pride back then. The type of apples that had been used for the cider were the wrong ones, far too sweet and thus making a much stronger alcohol than was comfortable going with the flavor.

It was exactly what Blitz needed right now, he reminded himself when he almost put the stopper back onto the bottle. He discarded it down to the ground and then took a massive swig from the top. It burned the sides of his mouth and along his gums before it warmed his throat and stomach. He felt like he had when the Fizzbot at Loo Loo Land had dared him to eat a chili pepper from earth on stage and he had spent the rest of the night in agonizing pain. He wanted that feeling again, wanted to be reminded that the anguish plaguing him wasn’t something that had to stay in the unphysical realm of his mind.

He drank from the bottle until he felt like he was going to puke and then set it down. He let the alcohol flow into his system and numb the pain in his mind, as well as the tips of his fingers and toes. He hadn’t even noticed that he was crying until he felt the water dripping off his chin and onto the counter he was standing in front of.

All he could think about was the fire, even though the pain felt different now that he was bathing in the last remaining alcoholic beverage in their home. He had thought that getting drunk would make his bad day better, and in some ways it had, but in other ways it had made it so much worse.

He could still smell the burning flesh from his best friend, and the aftereffects that came with fireworks, stinging his nose. The scars on his hands and face ached with the reminder of when he had gotten them. He could hear Cash telling him that Fizz would never want to see someone like him, that he was holding his best friend back from the life that he really deserved. He could hear Barbie saying that she didn’t want to see him and that he was going to ruin her chances on getting out of rehab clean. He could hear Verosika, the most recent of the people he had driven away when they were trying to love him, reminding him that those around him would be far better off if they didn’t have to put up with him.

His body was moving on his own then, searching the house for the one device that would fix the problem.

His apartment was relatively barren despite the fact that he had lived there for over half a decade. The walls were painted the same shade of blue that they had been when he had first moved in despite his landlord’s offer to change the color when the other places around him were renovated. They had a couple of holes in the wall from accidents when he had brought his one night stands home before adopting Loona. Her door was the most decorated place in the main part of the house, with all of the caution tape and ‘do not enter’ signs plastered over it. The only thing that he had ever bothered to put up were the photos that he had collected or recovered.

A lot of them were the ones that he had taken when he had first started IMP. He had a set done with him and Loona were she was scowling and looking unimpressed at the camera or at him. The longer that he looked at the photos, the more he noticed that he was the only one smiling in them consistently. He had thought it was funny the way that his friends and family were scowling at him when he took the pictures, he knew that he was overbearing and overwhelming on a good day. Now all he could see was the moments that they were going to pull away from him, the actions that stepped over their boundaries and made them hate him like he had done with all the others.

He found the item that he had been looking for and then uncapped it. The smell of marker and cider mixed together in his mind and made him feel slightly nauseous, but he pressed on. He walked over to the wall and took the first photo off the wall, opening the back with his fingers until the tips were bruised and uncomfortable, so that he could remove the picture from the frame. He then flipped it over on the ground and scribbled out his face so that the smiling, grinning idiot staring back at him was finally silenced once and for all.

After the first one, a sense of mania took over him and he couldn’t stop. He took down each of the picture frames, one by one, and pried them open. He didn’t stop when he heard the wood or glass inside warping with his frenzy to get inside. A couple of the backs snapped when he was a little too rough with them, but all he did was wince.

His lungs burned again, like they had when he was running. In a way, he was running again. He was running from the pain that he brought people and the anguish that he would be plagued with when they left him again. He wasn’t literally running away from his problems, his legs were stagnant and his muscles weren’t aching from the exertion. He was running away from the future that was staring him in the face, just over the horizon and yet far too close. The words of the Fizzbot, of all the people that he had loved before the fire, and the imagined words of the people he loved now were ringing in his ears. It made him not want to stop even after his fingers had been cut open by the nails in the walls and the fixtures on the back of the frames. He couldn’t stop running, not until the future was nothing more than a blacked out abyss.

The marker had left black ink all over his hands and the alcohol sat heavy in his stomach. He got up from the floor where he had opened the last picture frame and then wandered over to the couch, collapsing down on top of it. He was still crying, his body making him more drunk by dehydrating him the entire time that he was going through his crisis. The blackness of the marker on his hands consumed his eyes and mind as he passed out.

---

Loona smiled awkwardly at her friends as they dropped her off in front of her apartment building. She didn’t really like them all that much, but she was desperate to have some connection back to the realm that she had come from. She was grateful to Blitz for adopting her and giving her a job so that she wasn’t put down by the pound for getting too old. She really was, even if she never showed it. Despite all the love he gave her and all the attempts he had made to make her feel comfortable, he would never make a pack. That was something that only other Hellhounds were going to be able to give her.

She wasn’t sure that the girls that she had been hanging out with were going to be able to fulfill that need either, though. It felt like they did genuinely want her around sometimes, they would invite her to things and make sure that they included her in the conversation which was a first. However, there were moments and things that the others did that made her worry that they didn’t really want her in their friend group and were just doing it because they took pity on her.

Her brain was full of stormy thoughts as she walked up the long staircases to her apartment. She found that the door was open, which meant that there had either been a break in or her adoptive father had made it home before her. After the day that he’d had at the office, she was surprised that he was home before two in the morning when even the scummiest of bars would begin to close down.

Loona opened the door and then immediately realized why he had been home before her. The entire apartment reeked of the cider that they had left fermenting in the back of the liquor cabinet after Millie had given it to them. Loona had been meaning to throw it out for months but only ever remembered that it was there when she was getting them both something to drink, which was never a time when she wanted to do physical labor in any sense of the word. The stuff was basically corrosive to anyone that tried to drink it, they had all gotten really sick after they had opened the first batch. Millie was the only one with the constitution to last through the bellyache that came after the first sip. Loona certainly hoped that the drinking experience had gotten better in the time that it’d had to stew in the cupboard.

The next thing that she spotted when she closed the door behind her was that all of their pictures had been taken off of the walls and were scattered outside of their frames on the floor.

She dropped her bag down next to the counter and walked first to the open bottle of cider. She placed the cap over it so that she didn’t have to smell the heavy alcohol as she worked. She then made her way back over to where the pictures were, the ones closest to the door ad picked the first one up.

Loona felt her heart sink low into her gut when she saw what had happened. It looked like a four-year-old had been released into their apartment with a marker and help. The picture was one that they had taken of the entier group when they had opened IMP for the first time, with all four of them standing in front of the brand new embossed door and grinning at the camera. She was standing further away from him than M&M were and wasn’t even smiling that much. She was pretty sure that she could even see her phone in her hand and her finger flipping through social media posts.

Guilt began to creep up the back of her throat like bad heartburn. She knew that she had been tough on him as she searched for that fabled feeling of pack, but she had never thought that it was that bad. Something inside of her was broken, she knew that. It was why she had never gotten adopted when she was in the pound and why she had trouble genuinely keeping friends.

She tried to ignore the feeling as she collected the frames and pictures, placing them in the biggest open space in their living room. Eventually, the guilt eating her up became so big that there was no way she was going to be able to ignore it, so she had to do something that would satiate it instead of simply making it more ravenous.

She laid all the pictures down on the ground and then picked her adoptive father up, laying him down properly on the couch. She placed a pillow under his head and rolled him to the side so that his face was out towards the windows and the TV instead of directly up at their ceiling. She removed his jacket and button up shirt so that he was in nothing but his wifebeater and a pair of boxers. She wasn’t going to go so far as to put him in his pajamas, that felt strangely like it was invading his privacy and might also go poorly if they had to do extra laundry with their limited funds. So instead, she placed the horse blanket from the back of the couch over him and tucked a trashcan right next to his face at the side of the couch.

For extra points towards removing her guilty conscious, she plugged his phone into the charger next to his end table and then got a glass of water, some imp pain killers, and some crackers set out next to it so he would find them when he woke up.

“I don’t know why you did this, but I’m going to fix it for you, Dad. Lucifer knows that you’ve fixed my mistakes enough that this is basically just a simple return,” Loona mumbled to herself once the task was done.

She returned back to the stacks of pictures and frames. Every single one of them had Blitz’s face blackened by the marker she had found still clutched in his hands when she was cleaning them up. There was no way that she was going to be able to get that off the same way that she might have if it were pencil of even pen. She just tucked them back into their frames and then closed them up with the side of her claws to avoid pressure bruises on the pads of her fingers. She removed the negatives or extra copies that he had missed from the back of the frames and kept them in a neat stack that was to go in her bedroom as soon as she had finished.

By the time that her normal time to go to sleep had rolled around, each of the picture frames had been returned to where they had been when they left for work the day before. The pictures were never going to be the same, each of them with Blitz’s face and only his face, blacked out with the ink from his marker. The only one that had survived was the blackened photo of himself and two female imps inside of his wallet, so Loona took a picture of that with her phone to make sure she could have it copied if anything happened to it too.

One day she might know why her father had decided to do what he had done, she might understand why he had adopted her as well. One day she might be able to fully grasp why she felt such a strong pull towards him and the other IMP employees instead of just pushing them away by saying the rudest, brashest, cruelest things that she could to them. Today was not that day, but it was a step in the right direction.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #helluva boss #blitzo buckzo #helluva boss blitz #loona #helluva boss loona #running fic

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