#please don’t have been hacked again

[notagaslightingcat]

ao3 is downdjdjdkdk

[superbat-love]

Clark: Officer, I want to report a crime.

Officer: What is the nature of this crime?

Clark: Someone hacked into my bank account. Again!

Officer: How much was stolen?

Clark: I had a few hundred dollars in my account but when I checked it today there’s more than a hundred thousand dollars in it! Please, you have to stop this culprit! They’ve been sending me money every month even though I had switched accounts. Plus, they left this threatening note on my front door.

Officer: [reading the note] Payback for what you did. Now we’re even. And for the love of god, get your broken car fixed or buy a new one. Don’t make me remove that piece of junk. P.S. Stay out of my city

[loveinhawkins]

The problem is that a part of Steve knows the spider isn’t real.

But it’s the suggestion of it, right? Cobwebs in his hair, movement just out the corner of his eye; it’s all enough to convince him that there’s something crawling on his skin, to let out a panicked whisper to Nancy, there was a spider. It’s a black widow.

He tries to disregard it as a one-off. It’s an old creepy house. Just got him spooked for a bit, that’s all.

But then… diving into Lover’s Lake. Bats biting into his flesh. Overwhelming dizziness.

Nancy wrapping torn strips of clothing tight around—there’s something crawling, crawling underneath his skin, no, there isn’t, no, there—a bike ride through The Upside Down; one hacking cough, pushing through it, pushing through it—

Swallows it all down. Ignores the sweat, the tackiness around his bandage. Shh. Calm, calm.

Drives the RV. Doesn’t know how he’s even moving, is just grateful—grateful that his mind on autopilot seems to still function.

The War Zone. In and out. Parked. Sun in his eyes. Kids outside.

The feeling comes back. Something. Something under his skin. (In his blood, in all of him—)

“S’there something in my hair?” he asks Eddie, who’s mid-step out of the RV.

Eddie turns back with an air of amusement. “Nope,” he says. “Looks perfectly coiffed to me, man.”

“Can you—can you just check?”

Look closer, something’s wrong, something’s wrong.

“Uh, sure,” Eddie says, bemused. He sits next to Steve and tilts his head before lifting a hand uncertainly. “You want me to, uh?”

“Yeah, thanks. Just… there was a spider on me.”

It’s not what Steve wants to say at all, but there’s a sudden, terrifying disconnect between the thoughts in his head and what actually comes out of his mouth.

“Oh, you don’t like them, huh?”

Eddie’s not even teasing, just sounds understanding; he lifts up a few sections of hair carefully, taking his time. He’s so kind. Steve abruptly wants to cry.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Eddie continues. “I have the same thing with mice. The way they move. Creepy little feet.” He shudders dramatically.

Steve wants to laugh at that. Can’t.

Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair a couple more times, gentle.

You don’t have to, Steve thinks. Make it hurt. Get it out. Did you find it? Please say you found it.

“Good news, you’re officially spider-free, Harrington.”

Eddie claps him on the shoulder, stands up.

Steve doesn’t move.

Eddie pauses again, halfway out the door. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Just need some air.”

He goes through the motions of prepping for the fight. Chats with Robin. She talks about a terrible, gnawing feeling, and he wants to scream yes, I know, I know, but he can’t tell her, why can’t he tell her?

Shh. Calm, calm.

Drives the RV. Forest Hills.

He brakes with no warning, sends bottles of alcohol rolling across the floor. He’s mad suddenly that they didn’t smash. He’s so—

Slip away.

Eddie’s trailer. Lets himself in.

Bathroom.

The wound on his stomach pulses. He doubles over the toilet. Throws up.

His skin is crawling.

There, in the back of his mind, a creeping coldness. A thought that is not his own.

I will kill them all. And I will make you watch.

Oh, God. Oh, God, he’s been so stupid.

-

Eddie finds him first.

He picks up one fallen bottle of alcohol before a gut feeling pulls him out of the RV—because Steve Harrington is a good driver, and he’d only brake like that if he had no choice.

“Steve?”

But Steve’s not waiting for them on the porch, he’s not even by the Gate.

Clattering; a strangled cry.

Eddie’s stomach lurches.

He runs towards the noise, opens the bathroom door and is instantly hit by the acrid smell of vomit.

“Steve! Jesus Christ.”

Steve’s pushed up against the cistern. There’s a damp patch all across his stomach, and his chest is heaving.

“Oh my God, Steve, what’s—”

Eddie reaches for him instinctively, and Steve flinches as if he’s been struck.

“No, don’t!”

“Jesus, you’re burning up,” Eddie whispers, drawing his hand back; Steve’s skin is feverishly hot, slick with sweat. He looks around frantically for a cloth, turns on the cold water. “Gotta get you cooled—”

Something slams into him; he’s pinned against the sink, Steve’s hand clamped around his throat.

“No,” Steve repeats. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” Eddie manages. He chokes on a swallow. “S-Steve, you’re—you’re—”

His hand flails, trying to pry Steve’s fingers off.

Steve’s grip loosens ever so slightly. His eyes are wide, bloodshot. Pleading.

“Eddie,” he says through gritted teeth. “You need to hurt me.”

With the last of his strength, Eddie gets his knee up and jabs—it’s barely anything, but it works enough to break Steve’s hold.

Eddie staggers; his back slams against the door. He’s shaking.

Steve stares at him. He’s gripping onto the sink so tightly that Eddie thinks it’s a miracle that it doesn’t crack.

And then there’s a horrible, guttural noise like Steve’s started to choke too, like he’s at war with himself.

Barely audible, he says, “Get… get Nancy.”

Eddie runs.

He nearly falls into Nancy as he opens the front door. He’s breathless, can’t think of what to say, save from—

“Wheeler, he needs you.”

It happens in an instant: Nancy’s brow pinches, and then she goes very pale, and she’s shouting for Robin and Dustin to stay in the RV, like she can turn on a dime, launched into an unknown crisis.

She pushes past Eddie, and he follows her, back into the bathroom.

The cold water is still running.

Steve’s got his hands in the sink. He looks at Nancy desperately.

“S-stop me.”

Another choking sound is ripped from Steve’s throat; Eddie realises that it’s actually a dry sob.

“Nance,” Steve says. It’s half her name, half a pained whine. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I—I know everything.”

And then he’s suddenly launching towards them—it’s only the fact that he’s so completely freaked out that makes Eddie move in time, saves him from getting strangled again.

He grabs Steve’s wet hands, pins them behind his back and tries to hold him still.

“Jesus! Wheeler, what the fuck is going—”

“Do you have anything that can knock him out?” Nancy says.

“What?”

“Drugs, Eddie!”

“Are you crazy? There’s no way—oh my God, what are you—”

Crack.

Nancy’s grabbed the cistern lid, brought it down upon Steve’s head. Eddie looks at Steve lying eerily still on the floor in abject horror.

There’s blood in his hair.

Eddie feels sick.

But Nancy just watches, as if to confirm that Steve’s not moving. She looks Eddie in the eye.

“Come on. That’s only gonna work for so long.”

Eddie just follows her out, too shocked to even attempt speaking.

It’s chaotic at the RV; Dustin sees them coming, leaps out of the door as Robin yells at him.

“Where’s Steve?”

“Get back inside.”

“Nancy, where the hell is he?”

“We can talk inside.”

“Bullshit, I’m—”

“Dustin, he’s Flayed,” Nancy says, her voice breaking, and all the fight goes out of Dustin at once.

“No, that’s—he can’t—”

Eddie finally finds his voice. “Can someone tell me what the fuck you’re talking about?”

Nancy doesn’t speak, not until they’re in the RV, the door locked behind her.

“I think it’s the—the bites—”

Robin swears, a hand over her mouth.

“Flayed?” Eddie persists.

“The Mind Flayer,” Dustin says numbly. “It’s what we—it’s a part of The Upside Down. It—it used Will to… to spy on…”

“And what, it’s—” Eddie swallows. “It’s inside him?”

“Like a virus. He’s part of the Hive Mind,” Nancy says.

Eddie’s knees feel weak.

“Fuck,” Dustin says. “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”

“It’s too late to change that,” Nancy says. “We just have to—at least someone needs to stay with him.”

“I will,” Robin says instantly, eyes blazing.

“Me too,” Dustin says.

Nancy glances at him, shakes her head—firm but apologetic. “You can join Erica.” And as Dustin opens his mouth, no doubt to argue, she adds, “I’m sorry, Dustin. It’s just—we might need to… to fight him.”

Dustin doesn’t reply, but looks so utterly devastated that Eddie wishes he’d insisted on diving first, that the bats had torn into him instead.

“Keep him warm,” Nancy tells Robin urgently. “And I don’t mean just—it’s got to be unbearable.”

Robin nods, ashen-faced.

Nancy catches Eddie’s eye. “The one thing that fucker can’t stand is heat.”

She paces up and down the RV, checking for stray bottles. Then she comes to a stop right in front of Robin.

“He—he might beg,” she whispers. “And it won’t—it’ll sound like him. Like he just wants the pain to stop.”

Robin’s eyes look glassy. “Nance, I don’t—don’t know if I can—”

“I’ll do it,” Eddie says.

He feels everyone’s eyes on him, but he just looks at Nancy, at the determined set to her jaw.

He doesn’t know when he made the decision, if he can even pinpoint a conscious moment of thought—but now that the words are out, he feels the vow he’s made, deep in his chest.

Nancy hands him a bottle and cloth.

A lighter.

She fixes Eddie with a piercing look. “It’s going to look like you’re killing him,” she says.

Eddie nods.

He turns, offers Robin his hand.

“C’mon, Buckley. Let’s get that bastard out of him.”

[aemondsbabe]

A Kindness

summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?

pairing: ramsay bolton x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.2k

a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🖤 my masterlist

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?” 

Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.” 

A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.

 Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home. 

Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well. 

Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it. 

Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement. 

Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.

The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was. 

Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk. 

It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it. 

“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.

You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face. 

He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you. 

“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”

Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings. 

His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.

“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly. 

“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does. 

“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.

“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin. 

“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks. 

Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.

Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.

“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor. 

“A… A great victory, master!” 

“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”

Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare. 

“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”

The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?” 

He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you. 

His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”

Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”

“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.

Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall. 

“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded. 

“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.

“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.

“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –” 

Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately. 

I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always! 

“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”

Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything. 

“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts. 

“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.” 

He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow. 

You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours. 

Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad. 

Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer. 

Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet. 

A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone. 

A kindness, even now. 

Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly. 

“Thank y – Ah!”

“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.” 

The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head. 

“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers. 

A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”

The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!

You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center. 

“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”

Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot. 

He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter. 

A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace. 

All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow. 

“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.

“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.

“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.” 

He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.” 

You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them. 

Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way. 

Not that he’d tell you that.

He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill. 

“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”

“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again. 

“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?” 

Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip. 

“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”

“N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his. 

“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”

You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same. 

Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you. 

“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”

“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”

Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.

Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers. 

Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself. 

“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. 

“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.

He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. 

You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm. 

“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.

You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold. 

He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine. 

“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”

“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.

“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”

His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking. 

“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives. 

“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”

He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason. 

Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his. 

He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.

His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm. 

“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.

Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.

“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend. 

The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine. 

Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her. 

“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion. 

After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore. 

“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now. 

He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again. 

“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you. 

“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say. 

Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly. 

Kind, even still.

A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close. 

He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew. 

A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips. 

“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”

“Thank you.” 

The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you. 

Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else. 

His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet. 

He loves you, in his way.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[alyakthedorklord]

Chiroptophobia: the Fear of Bats.

Bruce Wayne is Scared of Bats. This is a Canon Fact.

In a difference from canon, Batman pretends to actually BE a bat man.

(Again, “Loading and Aspect Ratio” by JUBE514 situation with fake wings. Please go read it I love it so much.)

Bruce turns himself into a physical manifestation of his personal worst nightmares, and sets out to be a street cryptid. People see him flinching from bright lights and loud noises (he hasn’t slept in three days and he really hates guns) twitching weirdly (testing his wings function/stimming) not fully understanding human social niceties (you cannot tell me this man isn't Autistic) and, duh, wings, and go ah yes this being is Inhuman.

However, people KNOW Brucie Wayne™ is petrified of bats. There was an incident at a party when one flew through a window, another at a zoo, there was this one time Manbat showed up and he practically teleported away. No one saw him for a whole month, even after Batman had captured Manbat. (He got injured in the fight.)

By extension, this means that Bruce Wayne is afraid of Batman. Just- absolutely terrified of him. No ones seen them in the same place. Ever. Bruce Wayne actually publicly refuses to even believe in the cryptid for YEARS past when he's already been proven to exist.

When the Justice League gets called in to protect Bruce and his smattering of children from some plot (batman conspicuously absent, despite Gotham being his territory) Bruce straight up tells the league that he doesn’t believe in Batman, and he feels much safer with “real heroes” rather than “a urban legend spawned from overdramatic furries and gang wars.”

The justice league is, obviously, confused.

Certified little shits Dick, Jason, and Tim, (because we’re going with JUBE514’s canon and jason doesn’t die they’re all brothers f off-)

ANYWAYS: Certified Little Shits Dick, Jason, and Tim, ready for chaos/solidifying secret identities: “Don’t worry! We believe in batman! We saw him!” :D

They then proceed to tell the justice league that Bruce HAS met Batman, but he has a phobia of bats, so when Batman saved them at a gala Bruce screamed so loud and shrill he threw off the bat-hearing and then punched batman in the face so hard he knocked him out cold, grabbed then-baby Jason and ran. (Nightwing and the second Robin had to HEROICALLY rescue a dazed Batman, Dick saw it with his own eyes!)

Bruce was so scared of the bat coming to take revenge that he jumped at every shadow for a whole month. Why, Jason, (who was younger then) had slept in Bruce's bed to keep him safe! (Dick is crooning about his cute little brother. Jason, who is hitting his growth spurt and not a little kid anymore, is infinitely embarrassed.) Right now, Brucie has settled into firmly denying Batman’s entire existence so that he can sleep soundly at night.

“Why is he so scared of bats?” The Justice League is wondering. Oh, they are so glad they asked!

“Alfred told us a story once,” Dick says, eyes wide and innocent as he prepares to lie through his fucking teeth, “that when Bruce was little, really little, he got trapped in a cave filled with bats, and his dad had to come rescue him. Apparently, Little Bruce had been crying about a massive bat, even bigger than he was, with glowing red eyes and human hands and (gasp) wait oh my goodness gracious what if that was the BATMAN :0”

“The baby batman.” Jadon adds.

“Batboy?” Tim wonders.

“Alfred, do you think Bruce met Batman when they were little?” Dick asks.

“I believe,” Alfred “the greatest enabler” Pennyworth hums, offering fresh baked scones to thier gleeful audience, “that Master Bruce referred to what he saw as ‘the bat king’ and reported seeing him outside his window several times over the years.”

“Maybe it really was him! Will you ask Batman for us?” Tim asks, already planning to hack the watchtower cameras and set up some popcorn with his brothers.

The Justice League, who have learned more about the Batman in one conversation than they have over MANY years of working together, tell the Wayne children that it will be their Genuine Pleasure to quiz batman on his interactions with BRUCIE WAYNE who has, apparently, laid batman out cold with one punch.

Alfred adds on that he personally thinks the Batman is being rather courteous to Master Bruce, as “bat king” sightings were after “difficult times” and he doesn’t come near the manor otherwise, as robin had been the one to return some family heirlooms that one time they were stolen. He calls the batman and his robins “polite young gentlemen” and then leaves.

But now the gears are turning in the justice leagues heads. Batman? Courteous? Polite? Batman is not Courteous or Polite. Not unless something else is going on.

Now. From their point of view. Batman lives in the cave systems under the richest houses in Gotham, Phantom of the Opera style, hiding his meta form (because this batman is playing cryptid really well. Maybe he was a mutant baby of some Rich Gothamites, who threw him into the caves in shame!) He’s been watching Bruce Wayne, likely as he struggled with the highly reported on demise of his parents, seeing the effects that crime had on the boy that fell into his cave all those years ago. Batman has always been so protective of children, so hateful of guns, obviously the Wayne tragedy is part of what motivates him. He loves Gotham dearly, territorial of it to the point of keeping other heroes out, and yet he breaks that rule here, for Gotham's prince, solely for Bruce’s comfort.

Bruce, another person who obviously loves the city of Gotham just as much, putting millions into charity and relief efforts. Who is clearly very protective of his children, even if he usually has no spine, to the point of attacking his greatest fear to keep then safe, and good enough to land a hit, even. (Bruce Wayne is also considerably attractive.)

Its all so clear to the Justice League: Batman is madly in love with Bruce Wayne. Has been for years. To the point of watching him sleep, on occasion. How very tragic! Batman, in love with someone he can never be with! Not only would it paint a massive target on Bruce’s back if they ever did get together- there’s no questioning what Gotham villains would do if they discovered this, (and denying himself love out of an attempt to keep others safe is EXACTLY the kind of self-sacrificing nonsense Batman would pull) But Batman can’t even truly see the man he’s in love with without Brucie running away in terror! Well, the poor guy… how sad…

This conclusion can be supported by the following evidence-

Batman’s first appearance being right after Bruce Wayne returned to Gotham. Was the bat following him to protect him in those missing years? Or maybe he decided to clean up the city now that his beloved had returned?

Batman always being seen near where Bruce is. He’s never once been at the watchtower when Bruce has a public appearance- he must be watching over him, a silent guardian in case someone gets it in their head to kidnap Gotham’s Prince.

Batman insisting that Bruce is innocent in a corporate scheme, despite evidence to the contrary. (Hes right in the end, of course, but they’ve never seen him ignore evidence so clear.)

Batman casually referencing Wayne Tech/Foundation inner workings- he keeps an eye on them, of course. (If he can’t be close to the object of his affections, the league reasons, of course he’d make sure that Bruce’s company and projects are on the right track)

Nightwing, when asked, confirms the Bruce Punching Batman story. He says “honestly I think B was impressed! Caught him off guard!” (Since when does Batman lower his guard? Only when he’d be… distracted, perhaps…)

Superman saves Bruce, who thanks him with a kiss on the cheek. Later, justice league was teasing Clark, batman huffs and leaves the room. He’s CLEARLY jealous! Superman feels just awful!

Batman inexplicably knowing social dances/high society manners- he must have learned by watching (stalking) bruce! He can navigate high profile talk if he wants to, he just doesn’t want to most of the time. but if the situation calls for it he can talk like the Richest of Pricks in a way that only comes with observation.

Batman bristling when some of the league members start making Comments on Brucie Wayne’s Physical Attributes. (Jealousy? Defensiveness? Perhaps… embarrassment at GL’s detailed explanation on what he’d do with a chance in bed with Brucie.)

Batman absolutely freezing up when confronted with any of the above evidence. (He’s trying SO HARD not to laugh/go tell his kids)

Dick/Jason being big enough to wear the Bat-wings rather than thier own and be convincing- they save Bruce, though the man passes out (from fear? Blood loss from an injury? Perhaps- he is faking) and Dick/Jason, either out of genuine concern for their dad or general “how can i stir the pot” chaos, gently strokes his hair away from his face in an act of compassion that the cameras just so happen to catch. (There’s a few tears shed in the justice league- poor batman! He can’t be with his love!)

The robins (in both identities) telling the justice league that they've seen batman watching him.

“oh yeah he does background checks on aaaaaall bruces conquests. Had a conniption when brucie found a mafia boss that one time.”

“And when he found out Bruce and Two-face had a fling!”

(The league notes that often, if a criminal gets too close to Brucie, they’re put away not long after. B is usually collecting evidence in his civilian ID. But it looks like angry Batman wanted them to get the hell away from his mans.)

The Justice League is swooning over this tragic, forbidden love story. Batman is a little creepy but hey. He apparently grew up in a cave system. Its a wonder he's as well adjusted as he is. Batman has their sympathy, he seems less unflappable/untouchable, they’re a little more understanding with him now. Superman is all too happy to be a rebound, if needed. There are magic users offering glamour spells. Green Lantern is making exposure therapy innuendos.

The robins can’t believe how lucky they got. They’re def grounded but B can’t be too mad bc his secret identity is FUKIN SET.

Alfred is rather proud of Batman's new nickname in the league being “the bat king” and keeps sending batman along with cookies. The league thinks Batman is checking up on bruce with his butler. Its a mess.

Eventually, Batman loses a bet to one of his kids. Committing to the Bit with an exasperated sigh (he’s definitely not having fun, shut up jason.)

He admits to his crush.

[alexlwrites]

𝑩𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7xReader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:   The one where, after living abroad for years, you move back to Korea and your old high school friend Namjoon offers you his place to stay while you get settled, casually forgetting to mention that: a) he still had a massive crush on you. b) he lived with six other guys.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, College AU, angst if you squint.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐎𝟑 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

°•. ✿ .•°

Part 12 - What?

(<<< part 11)

Jin is sick.

Full on sick, bed-ridden, will-written (he left everything to his family dog, hoping to install chaos even in his after life), shivering in his near death state.

To sum up his pitiful state, Jin had the flu.

As the eldest, he was always thrown into the role of caregiver and he truly didn’t mind. Jin thrived knowing that his friends were well-fed and taken care of and the apartament wasn’t a pit of despair, dirty laundry, testosterone and food poisoning. Taking care of others filled him with prime and a beaming sense of purpose. He liked his loved ones happy and, furthermore, he liked being the one to provide said happiness, whether for his amazing cooking abilities or gentle, refined comedy.

But now, nearing the end of his life by the hands of a sneeze that just wouldn’t snooze, he regretted spoiling his dongsaengs rotten, because none of them had a single clue on how to help him or, at the very least, not worsen his state. 

Namjoon’s voice echoed from the kitchen, a place he had been previously banned from, but brought back to in those desperate times “How much sugar do I put in this?”.

Nevermind. Jin wasn’t that desperate. 

“None!” he coughed , feeling his soul leaving through his mouth as he hacked his lungs out “It’s a soup, you tall noodly buffoon.” 

“What’s going on?”

Jin turned his red, teary, tortured eyes towards the door, where you stood with your backpack, taking off your shoes.

Namjoon scurried from the kitchen, seemingly untormented by the cloud of smoke left behind him and the alarming wheezing sound that foreshadowed nothing good.

“Y/N!” he called sweetly and leaned in to kiss your cheek, a brazilian habit he picked up from you, but funnily enough only seemed to use with you “Jin is being mean to me!”

Ugh. As if Seokjin wasn’t sick enough, he was then forced to watch his back-stabbing, sugar and baking powder wielding, Big Bird of a friend drape himself over your much smaller and much less Sesame Street looking body.

Jin wasn’t in his clearest state of mind, so he didn’t stop to ponder on the implications of the ache in his chest and the twisting sensation in his stomach at the sight, chalking it off as one of the symptoms of his imminent doom and not at all a sign for something much bigger and catastrophic.

“Why are you being mean, Jinnie?” you asked as you removed the koala-like grip Namjoon had on you and put away your stuff.

“He’s trying to poison me” he croaked from his pitiful burrow in the L shaped couch “Putting sugar in the soup.”

“Joonie, please we have talked about this. More than once.” Jin couldn’t help but purr with satisfaction as you chastised his lanky friend. Finally, he thought, sweet vindication “Don’t worry, Jin, I’ll get you something to eat.”

Those last few words sounded as if they were whispered from a thousand miles away, barely background noise as Seokjin once more slipped in and out of consciousness.

When he woke up again, there was a cold towel against his forehead and a pleasant smell filled his senses. You stood by his side, holding a bowl of something that smelled absolutely divine and Jin had a short, intrusive thought that this is what heaven looked like.

“Good to see you awake.” you said as his eyes blinked open “Sit up, I made you soup. Sugarless. You should get something to eat.”

Jin stretched his tired body, feeling the dull ache in his muscles complain about the movement. HIs fever seemed to have gotten better, but there was still some uncomfortableness left by his sweaty, snotty state.

Even so, he betted he still looked great. Sexy even, in a plague-esque, victorian child sort of way, like Timothee Chalamet. Hotter, both in looks and temperature, than most men in his life.

“Where’s everyone?” he asked, noticing the empty and unusually silent and peaceful apartament. 

“They left a while ago. Joonie had classes.”

“Ungrateful bastards” he mumbled “I could’ve died since then!”

“From the flue?”

“From resentment!”

You laughed, placing the porcelain bowl carefully in his hands “Trust me, you don’t want any of them taking care of you.”

“Maybe Yoongi.”

“Yeah” you agreed “Maybe Yoongi.”

He ate in silence for a while, watching you make yourself busy around the room, unpacking your school bag and fixing yourself something to eat. “How are you feeling now?” you asked after sometime in quietude.

He coughed, folding over himself as his whole chest heaved in a violent fit. “Better”

Your arched a doubtful brow “You sure?”

Jin raised two thumbs, smile looking like a grimace. 

“Yeah, very convincing except for the snot and smoker’s cough you have” you said, pushing him to lie back on the couch, hands on his burning chest “Stay down, soldier, I’ll take care of you.”

Those words sparked something in Jin’s chest, a sudden rush of fondness and affection that heated his cheeks even more. He had proudly and happily taken the role of caretaker in their friend group and never resented, but there was no denying the warmth that sentence brought him. 

Your relationship with him had always been casual, at best, just exchanging crossed jokes and puns that made no one else laugh but the two of you. And although he liked to joke about your position as his future wife, there hadn’t been many attempts from either parties to deepen your friendship. You were just… Comfortable, Jin guessed. There was no strain to keep a conversation going, no awkward stepping around each other like there usually was in the beginning stages of getting to know someone.

Maybe it was your similarities that made you so at ease around each other, Jin pondered, weirdly contemplative in his pile of sickness by the couch. You were both the funniest people alive, great cooks, caring and exceedingly beautiful indivi- 

Woah, he paused. When did he start thinking you were beautiful - exceedingly so? You were cute, sure, but beautiful? His eyes followed you across the room as you cleaned up the slight mess scattered around the space, accessing your features: lit up eyes, easy smile, soft looking hair and skin that begged for him to reach out and touch…

Jin halted his dangerous line of thinking. Was this a side effect of the flu or an epiphany? Was the pounding of his heart just a sign of the decomposing of his body or just the feeling of unbound gratefulness at being taken care of? Or was it just…

You.

***

You. 

Jungkook thought about your existence within his life half wistfully and half infuriated. You were simultaneously the reason why he had a hard time leaving his room after waking up and paradoxically the current only reason he did. There was nothing new about early mornings with his hyungs hogging the coffee and sleeping on top of the dinner table, but seeing you by the kitchen sink or holding stupid Yoongi’s stupid hands always kickstarted his heart, even if painfully so. He had been living with you for quite a few weeks now and his body and soul had yet to get accustomed to your presence in his routine - still, you were everywhere, from your perfume invading his senses to his Marvels movies he could never watch the same way now that he knew how it felt to see them with your arms around him. 

Jungkook had to act. Not only because he couldn’t hold his feelings inside his surprisingly muscular chest, but also due to the movement he could see happening around the house hold. From Namjoon clinging onto you like a disease, to Hoseok’s threats and Yoongi’s silent plottings, Jungkook knew if he didn’t do something, someone else would.

And he was nothing if not a sore fucking loser. 

So Jungkook got to planning, cataloging everything he knew about you and your routine to come up with the perfect moment to ask you out. He had not gotten as far as considering what he would do if you said yes (start dancing? Yell? Fireworks? Punch Namjoon in celebration? Who fucking knew) but in order to not panic he had to take everything one step at a time and hope for the best, even if his previous relationship histories pointed in a different direction.

On the day he chose as The Perfect Day™, no one was supposed to be home, out having classes, at work or spreading havoc somewhere around campus ( mainly Taehyung and Jimin). No one, except you, enjoying one of your rare days off. 

He had armed himself with an arsenal of your favorite things, from pastries to flowers, one more tube of lipgloss to add to your insurmountable collection and crocheted trinkets he tried to make himself but turned out looking like unidentifiable blobs (he hoped he could charm you with his attempt, at least). He practiced his speech until the words left his mouth automatically, leaving no room for mistakes or blabbing. 

And he hoped, God did he hope, that you would give him the time of your day and spare him of the misery of having you so close and not being able to touch. 

But things started going south as soon as he reached the first step of the stairs up to their apartament and ran face first into Hoseok, carrying a bouquet of roses and a bag from the same bakery Jungkook had just visited.

They stared at each other in dumbfounded silence for a few seconds, seeing but not processing each other’s presence and what it meant until Hoseok said “What are you doing?”.

Jungkook spluttered indignantly, “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what I said I was going to do!” 

“So am I!” 

A second passed and no one moved. One second later, Jungkook bolted up the stairs, followed by his cursing hyung as he hoped that his toned thighs would give him an advantage in the race for your heart.

“I should be the one to ask her out!” Hoseok yelled from five steps behind “I’ve known her the longest!”

“And did nothing!” the maknae replied, starting to break a sweat “It’s my turn! You lost, old man!” 

“Old man? I’m only a couple years older than you! I’m Y/N’s age! Are you calling her old?”

That made Jungkook trip up a step, slowing down his ascent “No! At least I can call her noona! What can you call her, huh?”

“I don’t know what I’m calling her, but I know what I’m calling you when I’m throwing you down the stairs: an ambulance!”

“Better make sure they know how to fix your broken heart when she says yes to me!”

“And if she says no?”

***

And if she says no?

Rejection was never something Jin gave much thought about and he wasn’t about to start now. 

It was less about the belief that no one could reject him (although the concept did seem foreign to most) and more about rejecting the idea of missing opportunities due to fear of rejection. He could move on from being denied something, but never from regretting not taking chances.

And maybe this was a chance worth taking. Maybe, he thought while still observing you from his death bed (the couch), he could allow a joke to grow into something bigger and get to know you a little better. You didn’t have to start dating and then get married right away, but he saw potential in your congruent personalities. 

And what more could he ask from a woman besides a sense of humor and the ability to feed him without poisoning him? The universe had already handed you to him in a platter.

“Y/N” he called softly.

You raised your head from across the room and smiled softly, further finalizing his decision with the way your eyes lit up “Yes?”

“Go out with me.”

Your eyes widened in shock “What?”

“What?”

They turned their heads to the door, where Jungkook was pressed against it with eyes as big as saucers, holding it close with his weight before it burst open to a panting Hoseok and, in the back, an appalled Yoongi stepping out from the elevator.

“WHAT?”

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

Back Home Taglist: @luvtaeha ;  @powiepow ; @sercyan ; @marvelovernfan  ; @emberfulclass ; @sanjiroo ; @tinyoonsblog ; @mayla548 ;@dreamamubarakk ; @i-like-puppy-mg ; @akshstudios ; @familiarlikemymirror3 ; @onlythebest-106 ; @shyloh-the-cornsnake ; @billy-jeans23 ; @hwanggumchi ; @bangfantanfic ; @akshstudios ; @lovelycammy ; @cestlabellemort ; @lachimolala22019 ; @wtvbabes ; @taekritimin123 ; @kiki-zb ; @comingupwithacoolnameishard ; @sir-knight-slytherdor ; @toomuchtellyneck .

[slut4lrh]

wonderland ; LN4

pairing(s) ; lando norris x bookworm!reader

summary ; in which lando’s girlfriend loves books and lando loves whatever she does

warnings ; nothing but pure fluff :)

note ; lol this is short but i found it in my drafts from ages ago & i completely forgot i had written it lmfao (++ the title is irrelevant, i couldn’t think of one and i love this song so i was like that’ll do)

twitter !

instagram ; lando.jpg

liked by oscarpiastri, flonorris1 and others

lando.jpg she said she didn’t have enough pics to fulfil your photo dump dreams so here are some pics to make up for your lack of y/n lately

view all comments

flonorris1 you’re OBSESSED

landonorris what’s your point

user1 lando get OFF your knees

user2 he had all of these in his camera roll😭😭

user3 better yet he probs took them all

user4 what was she reading ??

landonorris in the second pic she was reading to me and it was little women (of course). in the 4th pic im not sure what book it is but ill ask her now

landonorris she said the book in the 4th pic is called ‘throttled’ by lauren asher

user5 omg who’s gonna tell him what y/n was reading

user6 SHE WAS READING THROTTLED YHATS SO ICONIC😭😭😭😭

oscarpiastri landonorris mate lily just told me what throttled is i think you should google it

user6 the difference between little women and throttled is so funny i love y/n’s taste in books😭

user7 i would die for her

olivernorris1 yourusername this man is so obsessed with you it’s actually hilarious

yourusername i 🫶 my obsessed boyfie

user8 y/n we (your children) miss you come back home

instagram ; yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and others

yourusername hell was the journey but it brought me heaven 🩵

view all comments

user1 MOTHER IS BACK 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

user2 omg who’s kid is that

user3 it’s y/n’s little brother

user4 THATS SO ADORABLE😭😭

landonorris you’re so obsessed with me

yourusername LOL ok mr whole jpg post dedicated to me

landonorris i said you were obsessed with me, i never denied being obsessed with you

flonorris1 you’re so so beautiful i miss you so much😭

yourusername STOP IT I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU MORE THAN ANHTHING

flonorris1 landonorris fly me and cisca out to bahrain pls bestie

landonorris ok just bc i know how badly my sisters wanna see me race

ciscanorris1 HAHAHHAHA ok yes sure

user5 i love the way she is with his sisters omg😭

lilymhe i miss you gf😭😭🫶

yourusername im in the uk next week pls tell me you are too

lilymhe OMG message me right now

user6 HE😭SENT😭HER😭MOON😭PICS😭

user7 more importantly HE😭LOOKED😭AT😭THE😭MOON😭AND😭THOUGHT😭OF😭HER😭

user8 shut up i’m gonna be sick

user9 omg where’d you get your tattoo i want a taylor lyric and yours is so so nice

yourusername avastattooparlour is the only person i’ll ever let tattoo me 🥰 i would trust them with my life please go see ava, they’re incredible 😭😭

yourusername just added to their story !

seen by landonorris, francisca.cgomes and others

landonorris replied to your story!

→ babe what is this

→ WHO said you were allowed to look that fine

→ have you been hacked

→ are you reading binding 13 AGAIN

→ no

→ i’ve already reread it, im up to keeping 13

→ dear god

landonorris is live on twitch !

[transcript]

[LN: hey chat we’re gonna play some games tonight i’m just waiting for y/n to bring me snacks.]

[LN: yes yes y/n will be here soon guys chill out.]

[LN: “we want y/n” yes guys i know you like my girlfriend more than you like me but chill out.]

[YN: chat know i’m the best i don’t know what to tell you.

LN: thank you for the food baby but can you stop stealing chat’s attention.]

[YN: okay guys i'm gonna go before lan starts crying because we love each other more than we love him.

LN: stop flirting with my chat and go read your book.]

[LN: "what is she going to go read?" uhh i think she's rereading the binding 13 series for the thousandth time. it's like her favourite books of all time and she always rants to me about them.]

[LN: no chat you don't understand, it got to a point where i read the books because she was ranting about them so much and i just wanted to be able to understand what she was talking about.]

[LN: anyways, let's start playing some games before max yells at me for making him wait.

MF: mate you're obsessed with her.]

twitter !

[seaslugfanclub]

Hi! I really love your Disney Villains x reader content! Especially the "Scaredy Villain", "Time in the Spotlight", and the "No, I'm their favorite" one. Speaking of that, I remember Hades mentioned that he was one of the first to meet Y/N, which got me wondering, what were Y/N's first interactions with each of the villains like? 🤔

Once again, I love all of your works! And I can't wait to see you do more in the future at your own pace and time! 😊 💕

So I’ve actually gotten a couple asks about this, so decided to answer all of them with this! Since all the Villains meeting (Y/N) would take way too long to write in one post, I’ve decided to make this a series of one shots, so stay tuned!

I, of course have to start with Hades. (Since his introduction is my most fleshed out) but I’m slowly but surely getting all the Villains interactions in order! Hope you enjoy 💙

Meeting the Villains: Prt. 1

Hades

TW: panic attack

—————————————

It was (Y/N)s first day working at the Disney Parks, and they were on the verge of the panic attack of the century

The crying babies, excited children, sickly smell of sweat mixed with the food stands, multicolored rides, and the unrelenting heat all melted together to create the perfect sensory overload

They felt like they’re about to throw up. Or pass out. Or throw up and then pass out. Screw employee training, they needed to get out of here.

Near hyperventilation, (Y/N) quickly stumbled to the quietest location they could find, leading them to a skinny alleyway between two buildings. Immediately they got on the ground, putting their head between their legs and taking deep breaths

Slowly (Y/N) began to calm down, the relative silence of the alleyway a balm to their ears, and the nostalgic scent of cigar smoke really helped ground them— wait….

Lifting their head up to make a spare glance to their left made (Y/N) scramble onto their feet. There — hidden in the shadows of the alleyway was the lord of the dead himself, his most lugubriousness, Hades, smoking a lengthy cigar and staring down at (Y/N) with a sardonic grin.

(Y/N)’s heard about these “holograms” Disney released into their parks, hell, it’s all they’ve heard about since they’ve been hired. And sure, (Y/N)’s seen a couple characters from afar as their employment trainer toured them around the park. But to see an actual one up close? This was a first.

Hades looked so… real. The blue flames atop his head flickered into the air, fanned by the light breeze of the afternoon. His skin was chipped and pitted, a similar texture to granite. Even his chiton looked like something spun from the finest silks, his whole body too detailed to be a simple projection of light.

…..

“So are you just gonna stare at me like an idiot, or…?” Hades took a drag of his cigar, blowing the smoke in (Y/N)’s face, causing them to hack in response.

“ *cough*—Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just—“

“Ya first time seeing one of us?” Hades interrupted, “yeah, I figured. And lemme guess, it’s your first day at the circus, huh? Don’t think you’ll last long if you abandon your post because your a little nervous~”

(Y/N) grimaced at Hades jab, retreating into this alleyway was supposed to be a brief respite. Their brain was too fried to think about the consequences of talking back to one of Disneys prized characters, the only thing (Y/N) felt looking up at Hades was indignation

“Oh please, I’m not the only one here who’s supposed to be somewhere else. And smoking??? At THE Disney parks??? It’s my first day, I’ll get off easy, but you? If we’re caught, I’m only gonna get chewed out once.”

A multitude of expressions passed over Hades face. Surprise, anger, disgust, amusement, before finally settling into one of forced resignation. It was a hard pill to swallow knowing he wasn’t the one in charge here. The fucking mouse was.

“Ohoho, I bet. I’m sure any consequence of yours will be dropped if you go off and tattle on me~” Hades seethed, finishing the cigar off in one drag as his flames sparked red.

(Y/N) huffed, going to lean against the wall again, “Are you kidding me? I’m not a narc.” They waved off the imaginary scenario, “I’m here the same reason you are, so why not make a deal. You like those don’t you? If you won’t say anything, I won’t either. Let’s just enjoy what little privacy we can in peace.”

Hades stood in silence for a bit, he didn’t want to sound stereotypical, but this newbie wasn’t like the other park employees he’s had to deal with.

Usually the park members would act one of three ways; either they’d cower in fear, submissive towards his biting remarks (his favorite), they’d fail to see his sentience and pass him off as a lifeless hologram (his least favorite), or act all high and mighty always admonishing anything he enjoys.

But to have someone talk back to him, but not follow the parks rules to a T? Well, Hades had to see where this went.

“Y’know what, kid? It’s a deal.”

————————————————————————

I can’t wait to share with you all what I have planned, I’m so excited!!! I also want to thank you all for your continued support of my work, I seriously didn’t expect so many people to like my silly writing, but here you are!!!

I see all of your asks and I promise I’m working on them! Just expect turnout rate to slow down with my college’s spring semester rolling around❤️

[theragethatisdesire]

"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.

our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/

pairing: eren x reader

wc: 4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff

title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3

-

Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.

You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.

You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.

“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.

“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.

“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”

“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.

It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”

“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”

“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.

You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.

“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”

“Eren–”

“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.

“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”

“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.

“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”

Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”

“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.

“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”

“I don’t have to.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”

Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”

“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”

Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”

“Do you really?”

“I think you look better than ever.”

“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.

“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”

Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”

Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.

Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.

“What?”

Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.

“When did that start?”

“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.

“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”

“Probably.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”

That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.

The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.

“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.

“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.

“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.

You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”

Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”

“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”

“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”

“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”

“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?

“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”

He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.

“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”

“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.

You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.

“Ready for me?”

“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”

“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.

“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”

You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.

“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.

“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”

“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.

“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”

You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.

“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”

“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”

You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.

“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release. 

“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.

“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.

“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”

“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.

“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I–I think so.”

“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”

“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.

“Like that?”

“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”

“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.

“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.

“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”

“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.

“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”

You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”

“Really?”

Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.

“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”

“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”

“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”

That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.

“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.

“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”

You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”

You gape at him. “That long?”

“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”

“This?” Eren cocks his head.

“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”

“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”

“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.

“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"

Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”

“No way!”

[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 26

Finnick x Y/N

Series Masterlist Link

A second chapter today as promised

Content Warnings - injury, surgery, mention of psych eval

An hour feels like forever as you watch the one you love slowly fade away. You’re passed out again by the time Peeta returns with a medic.

“I could only find one,” he pants, trying to catch his breath. “There were a lot of injuries due to the bombs.”

The medic kneels down to take a look at you. Your blood was still black, worrying the entire group.

“Please,” Finnick pleads. “You have to help her.”

“There aren’t enough of us right now to handle this,” the medic shakes their head. “Half of our unit died to the bombs this morning.”

“Can you radio for someone? Anyone?” Finnick asks.

The medic was able to call for an armored vehicle to come pick you up. They didn’t have any medical supplies but they could drive you to the hospital.

Finnick holds your limp hand the whole way, refusing to let you leave him.

It’s been 12 hours with no news. The doctors immediately rushed you into surgery when you arrived, not even letting Finnick come with you.

Finnick sat alone in the waiting room of the hospital. Peeta had been taken in for a psych eval and Katniss was in the ICU. Boggs was dead, the Leegs were dead, Prim was dead… (Gale was unfortunately not dead)

A gloomy aura hung over the capital that day. The rebels had won but at a high cost. Finnick didn’t know what he would do with himself if you didn’t make it.

“Finnick,” someone states as they nudge his shoulder. The blond looks up to see Johanna in front of him.

“Jo…” he replies. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened…,” she starts. “I needed to be here. They flew me out from thirteen.”

“Thank you,” Finnick hums as his friend sits beside him.

The two of them sit in silence for hours, Finnick periodically dozing off in his chair.

Johanna nudges him awake when the doctor comes out.

“She made it through surgery,” the doctor states, causing the victors to let out a sigh of relief. “She’s in a medically induced coma for the time being. She’ll need to have another operation in a week to remove the mass in her brain.”

“What mass?” Finnick asks.

“The timer…” Johanna mutters.

“We don’t know exactly what it is,” the doctor explains. “We do, however, believe that it’s the cause of her sudden illness. The doctors are in contact with Mr. Latier to devise a safe plan of removal.”

“Can we see her?” Finnick asks.

“I’m afraid she’s in a quarantine until her immune system rebuilds strength,” the doctor responds. “We need to check you for injuries but after I can set up some chairs outside her room for you.”

Physically, Finnick was fine. The doctors gave him some fluids and treated some cuts but released him soon after.

He wanted to help you in any way he could. The hospital was running short on blood so he donated some. Unfortunately it couldn’t go to you but Johanna’s blood was able to.

The doctors did a full body scan on Johanna and determined she was clear of any capital additions, meaning she could donate blood and tissue to you. She spent every moment with Finnick, only leaving to grab him some food.

Mags and Annie called daily from 13 but weren’t able to come to the capital yet. District 13 was working on assigning the victors places to stay in the capital until Snow’s execution but they weren’t ready. There was still a lot of cleanup to do.

Beetee flew in two days before your scheduled surgery. He showed Finnick and Johanna the brain scans and explained in technical terms how they were going to extract it without triggering any reactions.

“My hacking abilities allowed me to gain access to the experiment database of the capital’s military lab,” he explains. “A similar experiment was done on some rats around 60 years ago. Luckily we do not believe removing it will cause any further damage to her system.”

“What was it designed to do?” Johanna asks.

“I believe the experiment was designed to trigger a rabies-like reaction in the subject; resulting in their death. However, I hypothesize that the process did not complete itself in her due to the amount of blood she lost. The reaction is transported via the bloodstream so it ceased when there wasn’t enough blood left to continue it,” he explains. “She’s lucky she got here when she did. The doctors told me they’ve never seen someone that low on blood survive for that long. I’m optimistic that once we gain access to the medical equipment in the military hospital she will heal fairly quickly.”

“Thank you,” Finnick responds.

“We’re victors,” Beetee states. “We look out for each other.”

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[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1340

@skiny406 asked:

Would you do a prompt where caretaker and whumpee have a huge fight, and then whumpee is hurt (stabbed, poisoned, whatever you want) and tries to call caretaker but they just don’t answer (either is busy or just mad) and later they got to hear the VOICEMAILS.

I thought of a string of voicemails. Feel free to change them to suit your injury/situation!

“Hey it’s me, I know you don’t want to talk to me but I- fuck I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, and If I can do anything, I will. I’ll uh- I’ll maybe talk to you later?”

“Hi [character], I hope you’re alright. Um. I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I do understand but- but I really need you to call me back.”

“I’m sorry. That’s selfish of me, you don’t need to call me back… it would just be good to hear your voice. I’m um, I’m sorry for everything. I hope you’re okay. Probably better than me right now, ha, but don’t worry, I’ll uh. I’ll be alright.”

“Fuck, ouch, alright. Hey [character], ah, would you- could- maybe call me back? It’s um. Shit I’m sorry, it’s not important, I’ll try [another character] again.”

*starts with the whumpee gasping for breath* “H- hi, it’s me, please, I know you’re mad, and you don’t want to talk to me again but I- I really need you to call me back.”

“Alright. Message received. You’re pissed at me- you’re fucking pissed and I’m sorry, alright? Just- pick up the phone. Please. I-I’m in trouble again.”

*there’s a pause with just some breathing. There are voices in the background.*

“Heeeyyy [character], sorry about the last one. Pocket dial hahah! Must have done it when I sat down.” *they stop to cough, it’s hacking and wheezy.* “I’m sorry. I really am- I shouldn’t have shouted at you, you didn’t deserve that. I’m in a bit of trouble… it’s’all a bit blurry, but- but I managed to get here on my own. Call me back… please?”

“It’s um. It’s not looking good. I- I just want to say I’m sorry, again, I truly am.” They’re gasping now, perhaps crying. “I’m sorry….”

“This is [nurses name] calling from [the hospital], [whumpee] has you listed as their emergency contact. Please call this number as soon as you’re available.”

*there’s another message. Just voices and the whirring of machines. Maybe some crying. There’s a muffled curse before it cuts off again.*

“… I miss you.”

“Do you miss me? I- I understand if you don’t. Just tell me you’re okay, please?”

“I can go home tomorrow. I’ve been given the all clear, I’m sorry for scaring you. I’ll um. I’ll leave you alone. I um. I understand, I’m a mess. You were right. Just - no - don’t call me back.”

[brenbofen]

cuddling with blade after he's come back from a long mission away and he needs some affection

Cuddling with Blade ♥︎

Blade x Gender Neutral Reader

Broadcaster Message - Hmm I love Blade. I just wanna squeeze him so baddd, you are so real for this request.

Notes 🗒️ - No gendered terms used, Mention of the Starhunt Game Event (No Spoilers), Kind of Short, Headcanons at the end to try and make up for the length!

You groaned as you sprawled yourself across a couch. For the last week you had to put up with Kafka and Silver Wolf’s shenanigans, your boyfriend, Blade, having left for a mission. You glanced over at the balcony, seeing Kafka and Silver Wolf talking. Recently Silver Wolf had hacked into Herta Space Station for some kind of cartridge. You didn’t care though, you were just so bored.

After Kafka rescued Blade from the Xianzhou the Stellaron Hunters had been playing it safe, just biding their time until the right moment. But you didn’t know when that right moment was going to be! You groaned, throwing your arm over your face. You missed Silver Wolf leaving, Kafka asking about Elio, and Blade returning.

Wait…

You sat up when you felt a tug on your arm, seeing Blade hovering over you. He tugged your arm again and forced you to stand up, dragging you to your shared room. You were confused, not even a hello? You just obediently followed him, not saying a word. Once you two were alone he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. “I missed you to, Bladie.” You laughed, stepping back and pulling him onto your bed. Blade sighed at the nickname, Kafka had called him that once and now everyone was doing it.

You hummed, combing your fingers through his hair. “How’d the mission go?” Blade shifted so he was resting his chin on your chest, red eyes staring back at you. “Well,” He mumbled out, “I don’t want to talk.” He brought a hand to your face, he wasn’t usually this cuddly, but you didn’t complain. “Just wanna lay here?” Blade nodded, closing his eyes. You continued to comb your fingers through his hair, slowly getting any knots out. When you reached his bangs you pressed a hand to his cheek, smiling when he leaned into it.

You pushed Blade’s bangs away from his face, admiring your boyfriend. “I love you.” You muttered, placing a kiss on Blade’s forehead. He just hummed in response, arms wrapping around your neck. Eventually he returned the statement, moving up to press his face into your neck. You felt him place small kisses on your neck and jaw, laughing softly when his breath tickled you.

At some point Blade had dozed off in your arms, you didn’t know when but you didn’t mind. You rubbed circles in his back, letting him sleep as you knew he almost never did when on missions.

Head canons ~

✦ I personally don’t see Blade as a big fan of PDA, probably hates it if I’m being entirely honest.

✦ But he’s glued to your side if possible, just wanting to be near you. He says it’s to protect you if needed but we both know that’s not true.

✦ When in private he will flop over and just lay on you, pressing his face into your chest or neck.

✦ Loves giving soft kisses favorite places are your neck and temple. Will kiss your hand if you offer it.

✦ Poor boy can not give you a normal smile, always looks a bit deranged when he smiles. If you seem spooked by it he’ll feel bad, please tell him you don’t mind it.

✦ Loves it when you touch and play with his hair, just melts when you comb your fingers through it.

✦ Doesn’t seem like a big fan of verbal “I love you”s to me. I think he’d show his love through touch and spending time with you.

[livwritesstuff]

tw: references to blood

When Steve and Eddie’s children are old enough to start elementary school and they begin to meet their classmates’ parents, Steve finds himself quickly approaching a new revelation:

Men…kind of suck.

Steve knows that’s a blanket statement, and a bold one at that given how it’s directed towards a camp both he and his husband are a part of, but some of the stories the moms of his daughters’ classmates tell in the school pick-up line are…something else.

One of them once said she didn't trust her husband to be alone with their children for more than an hour. One mom referred to her husband’s time with the kids as babysitting. Another said she couldn’t get her own husband to take on basic household chores.

Truthfully, it takes everything in Steve to not point out how messed up it all is. The foundation of his and Eddie’s entire life together – their marriage, their family, everything – is the partnership they’ve built over the years. At no point during their seventeen years together and their near-decade navigating parenthood has Steve ever felt like he and Ed were anything other than equals in how they tackled all the facets of the small corner of the world they were responsible for.

However.

There is still the (very infrequent) occasion in which Steve catches himself wondering if someone might have swapped out his husband for a fourth kid.

For example:

It’s a Saturday afternoon and it’s raining, so the whole family is stuck inside. In his desperate search for something fun to do, Eddie is trying to invent a new form of bowling, and hacking off the tops off of milk cartons with an old box cutter in his endeavor.

Steve had warned him that this was a bad idea.

“The blade on that thing is ancient, my love,” he’d said, but Eddie had just waved him off, and, of course, less than two minutes after Steve walked away to tackle the pile of dishes in the sink, he hears a pained hiss and the clatter of something hard and metal hitting the floor. Then comes the shrieks of three panicked little girls.

“Papa!” Robbie yells, “Daddy cut himself and there’s blood everywhere!”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, taking his time dropping the plastic Disney princess cup he’d been holding back into the sink, wiping his hands dry, and heading back into the family room. Eddie is still sitting on the couch, the box cutter at his feet, surrounded by their daughters as he holds his wrist in his other hand so Steve can see a gash on his finger bleeding more than he would have guessed, “Alright everybody outta the way.”

The first thing Steve does is swipe the box cutter off the ground and stuff it in his pocket. There’s droplets of blood on the floor, he notices, and Robbie helpfully says, “Papa, the blood squirted!”

He glances at Moe, the most squeamish out of their three daughters by a mile, to see that she’s white as a sheet and getting greener by the second.

“Enough, Robbie. Moe – walk away, please.”

He tugs Eddie off the couch and pulls him towards the bathroom.

“Girls, don’t touch the blood on the floor, okay?”

“How come?” Robbie asks.

“Because it can have germs in it…and we’ve got white carpets.”

Once they're in the bathroom, Eddie sits on the counter and holds out his hand so Steve can wrap a wad of gauze around the cut and gently press some weight onto it.

“You okay?” he asks him.

“All good. You gonna say I told you so?”

“Nah. Feel like this is sufficient.”

Eddie rolls his eyes.

There’s the scuffling sound in the hallway of the girls convening outside the bathroom door. Steve can vaguely hear Robbie saying, “...and if the blood doesn’t stop, he’ll pass out and then the ambulance will come and he’ll go to the E.R. and –”

Steve opens the door a crack.

“Amelia Robin,” he warns, “Beat it. Nobody’s going to the E.R…unless any of you want an extra flu shot. I can make that happen.”

The girls all shriek again and run in the opposite direction.

Eddie is snickering as Steve shuts the bathroom door again and rifles through a cluttered drawer.

“Pick your poison,” he says, holding up three boxes of branded Band-Aids (Mickey Mouse, Star Wars, and Pokemon).

“Give me the mouse,” Eddie replies, sounding resigned.

Steve obliges, wrapping a Mickey Mouse band-aid around his finger. He plants a soft kiss on the spot where the cut is (because it can’t hurt), and then, because it’s the first time they’ve been alone together all day, he plants another on his lips.

"All better," he says when he pulls away.

“What would I ever do without you?” Eddie grins.

“You’d’ve died in the Upside Down twenty five years ago," Steve replies drily.

[melinoelliones]

You were on your first official “dream first date”, cuddled up watching cheesy romance movies. However Micah Yujin, the cocky little hacker you met 5 days ago, wasn’t being so cocky anymore.....

MINORS DNI/ AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ ANTI DC DNI/ 18+

Warnings: neck kisses, oral, dry humping, hickies, teasing, early ejaculation, grinding, cursing, slight face fucking, slight choking, whimpering

1.9K words

SECOND PIECE OF WRITING LESS GOOOOOOOO!! Again I am still new at this so please don't jump me LOL. I know there are many mistakes, weird wordings/story so on and so forth but oh well. I played Error143 a while ago with my friend group, and since then this man has been on my mind 24/7. Seeing him get flustered in game reminded me of this idea I had stored away for a fic which I felt would actually suit him nicely so here we are. Hope all the Micah lovers enjoy. On a serious note I have never written for a gender neutral reader so please let me know if I should change anything! Also I’ve used the nickname Angel as one of the names since that is what he uses in game!

The image of Micah was drawn by @kamuyagi​ on tumblr and twitter so check em out! I was given the green light to use their art so thank you again, it was lovely speaking to you :)

"You... actually like this stuff?", you could almost hear the smirk creeping up on Micahs face while pointing at the screen. "Some of us like to bake, others like to lie in bed and watch romance movies, problem?", you questioned while glancing over at him with a stern look, "no no, I have no issues here, was just curious is all Angel". He chuckled away while watching you turn back to face the TV, his chest now pressed against bare back as he was pulling you closer into him.

THE Micah Yujin was in your bed, cuddling up behind you, watching one of your favourite movies, it was almost unreal to you. Who would've known this would be the outcome of deciding to hack someone 5 days prior due to jealousy.

You could feel every ridge from his toned stomach as you both followed along with the movie, you both were down to just your underwear as he had suggested you guys "stay comfortable" since you were spending the day binge watching cheesy romance movies.

You couldn't help but think there was an ulterior motive but he was adamant that there was "no funny business in his agenda today", even though you had to pretend to ignore the figure which began to press against your lower back every so lightly.

"Uh uh uh, what is THIS my love"? Before you could even respond Micah had covered your eyes with his hands so you could no longer see the screen, "this is FAR too PG for you don't ya think Angel?", his sniggering getting louder as you attempted to swat him away. "THIS is too PG? Micah they're only kissing, I don't even think they go all the way in this one", you couldn't help but laugh a little, he was so immature.

You rolled over to face him, inching closer to his newly flustered face, "How about I show you PG hmm?", your seductive tone causing his eyes to widen, your own flittered between his and his lips. The sexual tension in the air rising as you let your lips linger by his teasing him while moving to lay on his chest.

"You're such a tea~", you cut him off by crashing your lips into his, gliding them over one another. His hand slid up to your neck, gently applying pressure while lightly tugging you even closer, the kiss getting heated ever so quickly. Micah caught your bottom lip between his, gently easing his tongue into your mouth as you followed, you let him take charge just this once.

The sexual tension quickly turned into frustration, as he deepened the kiss you knew he wanted more, the soft moans leaving his lips told you more than enough but you wouldn't give it up that easily. You could also feel how needy he was yet he didn't dare to try anything further.

You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva linking you together as you sat up, he watched as your eyes moved from his lower stomach to his eyes. "It's pretty convenient that at your request we are both only in our underwear. It's almost like.... This is what you wanted to happen hmm? Don't get all shy on me now". The grin forming on your face causing the usually cocky man under you to squirm trying to cover his heated cheeks.

"Nothing to say for yourself hmm?" you frowned smugly while watching Micah struggle to get any words out, "a~actually I~". You felt him choke back on his words as you leant forward letting you fingers coiled around his already hard nipples. "Sensitive here are we Micah?", your words ringing through while snaking your fingers around them.

You could feel Micah swallowing down his moans on your lips as you placed small kisses down the side of his neck, sucking lightly on each left kiss while nibbling down. Whilst trailing them down to his chest you blew gently against the newly placed hickies, you felt his body quiver due to how tender the marks were.

Micah's eyes widened as he heard your breath hitch while jolting up. "Ah, and you told me to shield my eyes from a kiss in a movie?", the confused look on his face dropping as he followed your eyes to his newly grown piece that was now pressing up on your lower half, you took your bottom lip in your teeth as you cheekily began to grind down against it.

Was Micah really that turnt on by a few neck kisses? This was the same egotistical man that would boast about how you would definitely fold first when it comes to being in the same room.

You couldn't help but giggle to yourself quietly while watching him squirm under you trying to take any extra friction he could from your lower half to his, desperation looked good on him.

You crawled off him, you could almost hear him internally sighing thinking you were done teasing him but he couldn't be further from correct. You placed yourself between his legs, hands running down his torso to the band of his boxers, your eyes half lidded with desire as you rolled your tongue against your top teeth, a coy grin plastered on your face.

Sliding the fabric down under his hips you took his length in your hand, the sheer size of it took you by surprise, no wonder the rare times when he was modest were only when you would joke about it being small without having seen it, "So this is what you've been hiding, I think I can handle it" you bit your lip while perking up.

"What do you mean by tha~ oh fuck", Micah hissed through his teeth as you timidly rubbed his ever growing member. With each stroke you could hear his needy moans get louder, his eyes showing a pure yearning for more."Look at you, is this the smug and overconfident hacker I met 5 days ago? 2 minutes in and you're already this turnt on", you teased as he averted his eyes from you.

"Look at me pretty boy", your stern tone followed by you meticulously moulding your fingers around his member massaging it in your hand, you could hear Micah curse through his moans. He turnt to look at you, eyebrows tilted upwards in bliss.

You weren't sure how much more he could take as you didn't know his cues yet, however you did know you weren't going to let it end here, having a cheeky man in submission was too perfect to give up this fast.

You slowly stopped your hand movements, "w~why'd you stop?" Micah whined trying to conduct himself, he wasn't used to being this vulnerable but with you he didn't mind but he wasn't expecting all this.

"Okay Micah, would you rather I finish you off with my hand, or mouth? Hackers choice.", your cheeky tone confusing him as to if that was a real question. Before he had a chance to formulate a response you placed your fingertips on the cusp on his cock, as you pressed them onto it you stuck out your tongue to let a drop of saliva hit his tip, your grip tightening as his body squirmed.

While kneading the tip in your fingertips you asked again, "You gotta pick one Micah, if not I guess we can leave it here and go back to the mov~", "mouth". "What was that? I couldn't hear you?", you pouted jokingly as if to mock him. You had full control and you were going to get the most out of it.

"P~Please, please finish me off with your mouth Angel", Micahs head rolling back in pure sexual frustration, "good boy Micah, i'm all yours". Without another word you skimmed your tongue across his shaft before taking it in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the burning in his stomach.

You bobbed your head up and down taking him all in, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. "Fuuuck baby, don't stop", his hand slid to your cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, you felt a slight pressure.

Was he really trying to fuck your face? You weren't expecting him to get a burst of confidence, or was his body just moving on its own? Either way it was turning you on little by little. You placed your free hand on his balls, palming them as he began to grind his hips forwards, the crown of his cock hitting the back of your throat each stroke.

Micah's moans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it all back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling.

You could feel him twitching slightly in your mouth, "oh my g~god i'm so close baby", his whining getting louder as you gave his balls in your palm some more attention. "Just keep going baby" he mewled out in desperation.

Before you could have another thought you felt him shudder, as if on cue he let go, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, swallowing whatever remained in your mouth. "W~What are you d~oing I can't take much mo~", you could hear him whimpering as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

"F~Fuuuck Angel", he was drowning in pain and pleasure, you started to slow down using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as you pulled back. You gazed at him alluringly as he covered his deep red cheeks with his forearm, "welllll, did I do good Mr Micah?".

Another cheeky smirk emerging on your lips as you slid your hand on last time up his length to take off anything remaining, licking it clean while remaining eye contact with him, he breathlessly mumbled "you~you did more than good I can tell ya that much" whilst you placed him back in his boxers carefully.

Micah grabbed your jaw with his hand pulling you into a quick heated kiss as you went to lay by his side, the taste of him and your saliva slightly re-turning him on. "You outdone anything I expected you to do, that's for sure, i'm still kinda in a haze", he chuckled letting you go, you winked at him before sliding back to face the television, back against his chest once again.

You could feel his heartbeat calming down behind you, you had definitely shocked him with your actions. Who knew you could make a cocky man whimper n writhe with just your mouth? God knows what he would be like if you guys actually fucked, you were definitely intrigued though.

You felt his arm wrap around your waist before moving up to your chin, turning your head so your ear was beside his lips, his breath sending shivers down your spine, "Once i've managed to collect myself, how about I repay you for your little display hmm? How does that sound?". His husky tone taking you aback.

He placed a kiss on the nape of your neck before sliding his arm back to your waist, your mind running through all possible scenarios that could pan out due to his cryptic words. All you knew was that the date was just beginning.

[awoogahonkhonk]

There’s actually a lot of TWST characters who I think would (or wouldn’t) partake in the devils lettuce sooo here are some TWST weed Headcanons.

~~~

Also, Ik they teens. Teens, don’t do drugs. But I did as a teen and am still not of age, high while writing this soooo yeah. Please remember that this is fiction and these are fictional characters.

Note: not all characters are in this list. If I didn’t add a character it’s either cause I had nothing of substance to say about them or I don’t know the character enough to make a proper headcanon. Also if I say something wrong I’m sorry I’m not a connoisseur I just do what I get.

Warning(s): General talk about weed, Yuu is a stoner(maybe idk) in this, cursing, unedited and written by someone under the influence

~~~

Riddle Rosehearts: As much as I want him to, and I think he would actually benefit from it, he wouldn’t. Especially pre overblot but also post. And it’s more than it’s against the rules. All he knows about marijuana is what he’s learned from the anti drug PSA’s his moms had him watch. And he hates the smell. And his fragile lungs can’t take smoke. And he doesn’t trust edibles or like the taste. So, as much as I want him to just give it a chance and chill tf out, it’s a firm no.

Trey Clover: He’s impartial. Doesn’t like smoking, or getting high in general but he doesn’t have anything against others doing it. May smoke in group settings but rarely. He will 100% make some fire weed brownies if you ask. Also, number one guy to be with if you get the munchies.

Cater Diamond: I think he’s tried it, had a bad high, and never touched the stuff again. Might be convinced to try again with some close friends but only if they know what they’re doing. Also, acts like he knows what he’s doing but ends up hacking up a lung.

Ace Trappola: Yeah why not. He’s down to try anything once. Actually likes being high with people, like him and Deuce and Yuu have reg smoke sessions and he loves it. Just likes the feeling idk. I don’t think he smokes alone tho. Likes flavored pens.

Deuce Spade: Will attend every smoke session and get a second hand high but will rarely actually participate. He thinks he has to be the responsible one while Yuu and Ace get high off their asses. But he’s not against smoking a little every once in awhile.

Leona Kingscholar: For sure dude. Someone is almost always on something in Savanaclaw so he’s been around his fair share and tried a couple things. Doesn’t like the smell from joints cause yk beast man heightened everything. So he prefers edibles or pens. Pens still stink to him but not as bad. Casual stoner. It helps him sleep when everyone in his dorm is all riled up over nothing. Gave Ruggie his first edible but was not happy when he had to take care of him after he greened out. (I have so many nsfw thoughts about Leona and smoking with Yuu omg don’t)

Ruggie Bucchi: Like I said, first time he had an edible he greened out. In his defense, the dosage was way too much. Leona kinda forgot he wasn’t as tolerant as him. He didn’t really want to do it again after that but he figured out smoking was easier cause he could gage where he was better. So now he’s a lil stoner. High Ruggie = ravenous Ruggie. Like Fr you’d think this kid was starving the way he was shoveling shredded cheese into his mouth, straight out the bag.

Azul Ashengrotto: Just gonna make a blanket statement now, none of the mer students smoke. They aren’t technically supposed to have lungs and filling those lungs with smoke is just painful. So he doesn’t smoke. He’ll do an edible every so often, usually to help him sleep, but that’s it. IS the campus dealer tho. He knows a guy. He knows quite a few guys actually. Hooks everyone up, for a price.

Jade Leech: Never has, never will. Has absolutely no interest in it. Doesn’t like not being in control of himself. Will be around when others get high though, he thinks it’s hilarious. Especially when people do too much and get sick.

Floyd Leech: Complete opposite of his brother. Will get high anytime, anywhere, with anyone. It hurts to smoke, like I said previously, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying. It’s actually getting better. He also thinks smoking looks cooler than edibles. High Floyd is a very cuddly monster. Will squeeze anyone who gets close enough. Just be thankful that he’s too out of it to use his full strength.

Vil Schoenheit: Will loudly advocate against it and ban his dorm from doing it but probably has a secret stash somewhere. Only Rook knows about it. He’s stressed ok?! You try being a famous actor/model/fairest in the land.

Epel Felmier: My boy wants to. He really does. He thinks it looks so cool, and if Yuu can do it so can he! But the smoke burns his lungs and edibles taste bad. But that doesn’t stop him from trying!

Idia Shroud: OKAY so there are two ways I could write this. Cannon how he probably is, or headcannon how I want him to be and see him as. Cannon, he probably talks a big game but actually knows jack shit about drugs of any kind. And is kinda scared to try. But he will, to seem cool. Ends up coughing up his heart but he tried and that’s what counts. And now he can officially say he’s ‘done weed’. Headcannon, Idia as a little loner stoner. It calms his nerves and makes it easier to talk to people. Usually if he’s out of his dorm, he’s high. He’s also high when he’s in his dorm. It helps him sleep and he thinks better with a lil weed in his system. May have developed a small codependency but that’s okay(no it’s not seek help). Mr wake and bake.

Malleus Draconia: Weed? Like, dandelions? What? He’s so confused when someone offers. Why would you smoke weeds? Lilia has to explain it to him three different ways before he gets it. He’ll try, but please give him an edible. It’s for your own safety. His lungs could probably take the smoke but if he ends up taking a hit too big he will cough up flames and not little ones. Very spacey once he’s high. Will stair at the ceiling for hours and say absolutely nothing.

Lilia Vanrouge: Has, will, wants to rn actually. Lilia lived through the 70s, he’s done almost every drug known to man, and probably some not yet known, at least once. Why not? He can take it. Doesn’t smoke often but also does? Idk how to explain it. Likes flavored cartridges more than anything else. The weirdo who fucks with cotton candy. He gets bad cotton mouth tho so… I mean, if you believe in the vampire theory like I do…👀

Silver: The first time he smoked was with his dad. He walked in on Lilia and a bong when he was like 15 and Lilia was like cmon m’boy. Now, he’s concerned that Lilia wasn’t more careful and exposed him so young but that also means he has an okay relationship with weed. Like, he’s able to make his decision firmly due to plenty of experimentation. He hates smoking and edibles generally but will absolutely body some weed brownies.

[messrmoonyy]

Road trip

Tess Servopoulos x Reader

Request- hear me out messr please. Reader along for the ride with Tess Joel and Ellie looking for fireflies. One night they’re holed up in some random house somewhere and Tess and reader need so relief. And they get busyyyyyyy but have to be quiet because Joel and Ellie might hear them. Tess with her hand on your mouth and fucking you and trapping her moans in your mouth🤤🤤 PLEASE

A/n- ngl. I’ve rewritten it twice. And I still don’t particularly like it allll that much. But I promised you guys these smutober posts and now it’s November so I’m v v sorry. But here’s the last smutober post. Enjoy. Smuts on the shorter side but it felt fitting for the scene!

Word count: 3.7k

Warnings: 18+ | smut- fingering ( r receiving)

Navigation | AO3 | Tess masterlist

“ I’m starving “ Ellie complained for what felt like the millionth time, dragging out her words and dramatically slumping over as she walked with a groan. It made a smile tug at your lips as you watched her in amusement, a glance over at Tess showing she had the same look on her face.

That only made you smile more. Tess had grown an incredibly soft spot for the kid over the months. In fact she’d had a soft spot for her from the very beginning. If it hadn’t have been for her none of you would even be stood where you were now.

Wherever there was.

“ where even are we? “ Ellie asked, hanging back from Joel a little to then look up at you and Tess. As if reading your mind.

“ oh somewhere in Iowa I think. Joel? “

“ Iowa “ he confirmed from the front of the group “ keep up “ Jackson felt forever away, you were all putting in long long days of walking. Taking longer routes to avoid big cities, traipsing through back roads and woodland. You had suggested trying to find a car. Joel hadn’t even given you an answer to that, just one of his looks that said ‘ are you fucking with me right now? ‘

You knew it’d be damn near impossible to find one that still worked but you’d suggest anything to get a break from all that damn walking.

“ you ever been to Iowa? “ Ellie asked, kicking a rock along the ground as she walked beside you. The poor kid looked exhausted. Sometimes you forgot how young she was.

“ no. I never really did any travelling until the world ended. And if I had I don’t think Iowa would’ve been at the top of my list “ you said with a laugh and she nodded, but yawned before she could say anything else. You sighed and placed a gentle hand to her shoulder “ you wanna stop kid? “ she glanced over at where Joel had stopped walking and tried to straighten her self out a little more.

“ I’m not even tired “ you sighed again and rolled your eyes. She seemed hell bent on impressing Joel. Like she had some need to prove to him that she was much stronger than she looked, that she could handle herself. She seemed to forget she was just a kid. And an entire day of walking, plus the fact that she was hungry? It was time to stop.

“ Joel lemme see that map “ Tess piped up, beckoning for it with her fingers before just taking the map from him before he could even agree to it.

“ we still got at least another hour of light we should keep- “

“ I’m tired too “ you interrupted. In truth you thought maybe you could hack another hour or so before you dropped. You were exhausted but you could keep going if you had to. But Ellie couldn’t and two voices were better than one. Ellie needed to sleep. Even if she refused to admit it to Joel herself. Tess glanced over at you, a slight warm look in her eyes as she realised why you had said it.

You were seeing that warmth a little more the longer she was around Ellie. A warmth she’d buried for so long, that only you got to really see, finally being pulled up to the surface.

Some deep rooted motherly instinct to protect this scrappy little kid that was now in your care. Ellie was making her soft. And maybe you too.

“ there’s a small town about a mile that way “ she said and nodded in the direction of the town “ I doubt there’d be any infected we’re in the middle of fuckin nowhere. And it’s so small it’s barely even a town… head into one of the neighbourhoods on the outskirts. Bunk down in one of the houses for the night. Set off early again tomorrow morning “ Joel gave a small sigh before glancing at Ellie and nodding.

“ alright. Let’s go “ you pretended not to catch the look of relief that flashed across Ellie’s face as you ushered her to walk in front of you. Joel led the way and Tess fell into position next to you at the back. She looked tired too. Everyone was fucking tired, you’d like to bet Joel was too. He was just stubborn as fuck about… well everything. But then again, so was Tess. Trying to get either of them to rest for the entire journey had been a mission in itself.

“ this means we can eat soon right? “ you chuckled and nodded

“ we have some of those tins of ravioli you like. Oh and I have some rabbit left over, you can have mine if you want “ she looked quite pleased with that knowledge and seemed to walk a little faster.

“ did you eat today? “ Tess said quietly by your side as Ellie caught up with Joel, ready to hit him with a million and one questions now “ I didn’t see you have anything this mornin and you’re giving Ellie the meat… “ you shrugged and rubbed at your temples lightly, a headache settling itself in. You were tired and tense and hungry. And now the thought of stopping for the day was fully in your mind, you were realising just how tense every single muscle in your body was. Maybe you couldn’t have made it another hour or two.

“ I’ll eat when we stop “ you said and gave her a soft smile as if that would make her believe you more.

In truth your hunger wasn’t the worst thing. It was the fact that you were getting a little homesick.

That shitty Boston apartment and your equally as shitty bed. It was barely big enough to fit the two of you in, was propped up on one side with bricks, but you kinda liked that because it meant you had to sleep wrapped up in Tess’ arms each night. The QZ wasn’t exactly stress free but it was a lot less taxing than traipsing across the country with a kid.

You’d deal with FEDRA fucks and wannabe smugglers over hunters and slavers any day. You missed walking around the QZ with some air of power with Tess, then going back home and spending the evening de stressing from the day with her. The comfortable silence as you counted cards, getting her to lift the two floorboards in the back corner behind the couch to stash your pills. Letting her ease your aching body after particularly stressful days, easing away the ache of bruises with her lips and her fingers.

It had been weeks since you’d had any form of… de stressing with Tess. Of any kind. But particularly the latter.

And the last time hadn’t exactly been anything to shout about either. Needing to have it over and done with as fast as possible before Joel wondered why you’d both been out hunting so long. You’d only just about lost the bruises on your back from where she’d pushed you up against the closest tree the second she deemed you both far enough away from Joel and Ellie’s earshot.

It wasn’t exactly special or even particularly comfortable. It had felt dirty and obscene, to have her fucking you out in the open like that. But you’d gladly take the opportunity again. The things you would do to be back there again, her hand down the front of your jeans and her lips on your neck. Or better yet back in Boston and your shitty apartment, to feel her hands on you. Or her mouth. Or both.

Yeah. Both.

That would definitely ease your achy muscles.

“ sweetheart? “ you glanced over at her and she chuckled at the clearly evident look of confusion on your face

“ huh? “

“ you okay? We’re almost there you need to focus, yeah? “

“ yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I’m focussed. Sorry “ you pushed away the thoughts of your girlfriends skilful hands and mouth, and grabbed your gun from where it was strapped to your thigh.

You could see the small neighbourhood you were heading into at the bottom of the hill, it looked empty. But you could never be too sure In the current climate.

You felt the air shift between your group, everyone preparing for the worst in case there were people lurking in the town. Sticking close to the tree line and keeping your eyes on the windows. The high spots. Looking for any sign of a face or a gun.

“ stay close Ellie “ Tess said in a low voice, the girl instantly moving behind you. You, Joel and Tess were a well oiled machine by that point. It was only natural after so many years as a team. You could anticipate each others moves and thoughts, silently communicate with simple looks. It worked well.

The town seemed abandoned. Most of the buildings collapsing in on themselves, windows smashed and the roof tiles missing. There were one or two in the close vicinity that seemed a little more structurally stable. Joel headed for the one closest pointing for you and Tess to take the back whilst he went for the front.

Ellie stuck close to Tess as you made your way towards the back door, trying the handle to find it unlocked. That was a good sign. You opened it and stepped inside, no noise traps. No actual traps. All good signs.

You cleared the downstairs pretty quickly, finding no one there. In fact it seemed as though no one had been there for years. Thick layers of dust only now disturbed by your boots, the feeling of just… emptiness.

Joel returned from clearing the upstairs and gave a small nod.

“ clear “

You all made your way into the garage, silently agreeing that it was the safest spot to sleep. One door into the house and the garage door that nobody could possibly open silently enough not to alarm anyone.

Joel and Tess found one mattress upstairs that wasn’t completely rotten, placing it in the middle for Ellie. You, Tess and Joel opted for the floor. Using the thin blankets you’d taken from Henry and Sams packs back in Pittsburgh. You were almost used to laying on the hard ground now. So you didn’t really even mind. And Tess’ body warmth was enough to chase the chill away.

Ellie devoured the rabbit and her tin of ravioli, scraping out every last drop of sauce she could and still not looking entirely satisfied. You attempted to offer her the rest of yours but Tess stopped you before you could even say the first word in your sentence, placing her hand on yours to keep you in place. And then offering the kid her own.

“ Ellie. Here “

“ it’s okay I’m- “

“ take it. It’s fine “ she took it sheepishly and whispered a thank you before devouring that too. You placed yours into her hands then “ you need- “

“ we can share “ Tess was stubborn but so were you. And Tess sighed with a nod, taking the fork from you and having a bite. Passing the fork back and forth until the tin was empty. You still weren’t particularly full. But you were used to that too.

Ellie passed out ridiculously fast, making you smile at how at ease she looked even in the current circumstances. Joel disappeared briefly back into the house, sounds of broken glass scattering on the floor before returning. He barricaded the door leading back into the house before turning his back to you all, laying down facing the door with a grumbled goodnight.

You chose a spot in the opposite corner of the room to sleep, always feeling safer when no one could sneak up behind you. You felt safer than you had for the majority of the journey, the singular door out blocked. The windows on the garage door too small to fit anyone through. You could all hopefully get some decent sleep.

You settled under the blanket as Tess unlaced her boots slightly. She never took them off now, in case you needed to make a quick escape. Just loosened the laces. You looked over at Ellie fast asleep on the mattress and silently wished there had been another one to use, the concrete of the floor not exactly comfortable. But still, you were all safe as could be. That was all that mattered really.

Tess scooted down behind you, pulling you back against her chest and sliding her arms around you. So she could keep you close and warm, a deep sigh leaving her and tickling the back of your neck. She’d bundled up her jacket to use as some kind of pillow for you, but she also nudged her arm under your head to keep you off the concrete as much as possible.

“ you doing okay? “ she asked quietly, pressing her face to the back of your neck

“ I’m okay “

“ really? you’re so tense “ Tess said quietly, her fingers tracing up and down your side lightly “ you have been all day “

“ my muscles hurt “ you confessed in a whisper as not to wake up Joel or Ellie “ my whole body hurts “

“ oh sweetheart “ she sighed, kissing the back of your neck softly “ you need to relax “ she murmured against your ear, her lips brushing against your skin and her warm breath making goosebumps rise “ I can help you relax “

Her fingers pressed harder, pushing at your aching muscles through your clothes in a way that actually did offer a small amount of relief.

“ good? “ you hummed an answer, pretty sure you could fall asleep like that. Close your eyes and think hard enough to pretend you were back in Boston, that she was easing the pain after a long day on one of the food depot shifts. Lifting and hauling boxes all day, always going home after that assignment feeling like you’d been hit by a truck.

More often than not it ended with her wandering hands making you come over and over again, because according to her it was the best cure for aching muscles. You didn’t know if you entirely believed her logic, but you weren’t exactly going to complain about it.

Her fingers slipped under your sweater and you shivered at the coldness of her touch, but soon let out a soft sigh as she moved upwards. She unashamedly groped at your chest through the material of your bra, a small involuntary whimper escaping your lips.

“ maybe helping me to relax at the same time “ she mumbled, making a smile tug at your lips. You felt her let out a steady sigh, the warm air tickling your neck. Joel shuffled slightly in his sleep and your froze but Tess didn’t stop “ s’okay he’s still asleep “

You wondered just how desperate she was for you to the fact that she had so little fear at being caught. It made your face flush with heat and your back arch involuntarily against her. Her hand immediately left its position under your sweater and flew to your hip, pulling you back against her and squeezing.

“ I wish you could fuck me “ you whispered in practically one breath, horniness starting to cloud your better judgement

“ yeah? “ her voice was that low, sultry tone that felt like warm caramel. Slow and drawn out, warmth flowing over your despite the cold “ missing mommy’s cock baby? “ a whimper slipped past your lips without your permission again, your eyes darting to Ellie and Joel in fear you’d been too loud. Of course you hadn’t. And both of them remained fast asleep

“ Tess- “ you cut yourself off as her hand danced along the waist band of your jeans, pressing soft kisses to your neck. You felt your skin prickle, immediately knowing what she wanted to do. The cold of the concrete no longer affecting you. And as much as you wanted it, you knew you couldn’t. Not there.

“ we can’t “

“ we can. Just be quiet “ you could hear the smile in her voice, feel it against your skin as she wasted no time and carefully undid the button of your jeans, one handed and skilful in a way you hadn’t quite mastered yet, still pressing those soft wet kisses to your neck.

“ Tess… “

“ stay quiet yeah? “ she whispered as she pressed the palm of her hand against your underwear, making your breath hitch at the pressure. Her finger traced along your slit through the materiel. You felt her smile against your neck as she slipped her way past the cotton restraints, noting that as much as she clearly wanted to do it she also didn’t want to waste any time.

So she was quick with moving her finger between your folds, breath stuttering as you tried to remain quiet and calm. As much as you’d said only a second ago that you couldn’t do it, you found yourself moving your leg to let her have better access. It only made her smile more “ thought you said we can’t do it?” She murmured softly, some mixture of smugness and amusement in her tone.

“ shut up “ honestly though it was you that needed to shut up, gasping a little too loudly when her fingers applied a little more pressure.

Maybe it was a good thing that she clearly needed it over with quickly, because you weren’t confident in your ability to be silent. At all. In fact it was a running joke with her and Joel that you were notoriously bad at being quiet. Joel had complained so many times that he could hear you through the walls. Mostly that just encouraged Tess to make you be ten times louder though.

But thankfully for you- and probably Joel too- you were both in no situation to be loud or draw things out tonight. And she knew your body better than you, so as much as she was able to draw it out for hours. She could also have it over in minutes.

You gasped when her fingers circled your clit, slightly embarrassed by how wet her fingers felt after barely a minute of touching you. You got turned in ridiculously fast “ shh shhh be a good girl nice and quiet. Nice and quiet for me “ she urged, voice still silky and soft.

“ I’ve been thinking about this for so long “ you whispered, eyes falling closed as you focussed on the skilful movement of her fingers. Working at you expertly even within the tricky confides of your unbuttoned jeans.

“ is that where you keep going when you zone out? “ she asked with a small laugh. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were. At least no one knew what you were actually thinking. The last thing you needed was someone in your head seeing all the filthy things you daydreamed about Tess doing to you…

“ maybe “ she laughed again, but it soon fell into a slightly frustrated sigh.

“ the second we reach Jackson we are finding a bed “ she mumbled, shifting around behind you and seemingly trying to reposition her hand to be more comfortable “ or. Anywhere that I can actually get your fuckin naked “

“ hmm that’d be nic- Tess “ you gasped her name as finally seemed to get her hand into a position that she could get into the perfect spot. The perfect rhythm.

“ there we go “ she picked up the speed, lips attacking your neck at the same time in a utterly dizzying combination. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to try stifle any sound that wanted to escape. You were hyper sensitive to every sound. Like somehow your heavy breaths would wake Joel and Ellie , or rustle of the blanket. As if he wasn’t half deaf and Ellie slept like a log.

But somehow that element of fear was twisting into something different, some burning hot type of adrenaline pricking over your skin. Paired with the way Tess was working at your desperate, throbbing clit? You were a goner, already feeling the pressure building and it had barely been a few minutes.

“ you know what else I can’t wait for in Jackson? Hm? I cant wait to hear your pretty sounds again “ you whimpered at the thought. Remembering every filthy word Tess liked to say to you to make you moan, how she would have the smuggest look on her face with every whimper and whine. Showering you in praise for every little noise that passed your lips “ you always sound so pretty for me don’t you baby? “

Your mind replayed as many memories of those times in your head as it could, memories of her words. Her body. God you wanted to see her body again. Wanted to touch her and feel her skin pressing against your own in as many spots as humanly possible. You wanted to bury your face between her legs and never ever leave, make up for lost time and have her make it right back up to you too.

The thought of that, paired with her fingers and lips nipping at your neck, was enough to topple you over the edge.

You trapped her hand between your legs, focusing on trying to stay quiet, shuddering breaths hidden by the thin blanket pulled up to your mouth. You were never more thankful for Joel’s busted ear.

You turned your head, looping your arm around to pull her lips onto yours, not so confident in your ability to remain quiet as you finished. And even with Joel’s shitty hearing and the blanket.

She had the worlds smuggest smile as you moaned softly into her mouth, keeping her hand between your legs as your orgasm washed over you in a draining wave.

It zapped every single last drop of energy you had left in your body, muscles like jelly as you let her go. And in her defence. You were certainly less tense than you had been before.

“ thank you “ you mumbled, eyelids heavy as you tried to not immediately give in to sleep. Tess chuckled slightly and kissed your cheek, withdrawing her hand from your jeans.

“ thanking me for sex now? You really are tired “ you hummed some attempt at an answer and she laughed again, holding you tightly against her “ go to sleep “

“ I owe you one “ Tess smiled and pressed another kiss to your cheek

“ you sure do “