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mystra-midnight · 10 days

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— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?"

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed.

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside.

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends.

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself.

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect.

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you.

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely.

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact.

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him.

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush.

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape.

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you.

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

tag list ::

@micheledawn1975 | @maxstecc

—interest in being tagged in future chapters? send me a message!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie x innocent!reader #call me little sunshine #call me little sunshine - part one

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pomefioredove · 13 days

Note

Hi !! I love your writing! I think you've nailed the twst characters personalities really nicely <33

So if possible, I'd like to have some hcs Sebek, Ruggie, Jack, Jamil and Deuce would realize that they have a crush on the reader (in which the reader is basically their closest friend atp) and how'd they'd react to it. Would they be the type to shove it back down or get it over with? Something else entirely, maybe??

Hope this isn't too much. Thank you in advance! Take all the time you need!

hii first off thank you so much!! <3 and ofc ofc I LOVE pining (and friends to lovers?!)

pomefiore part

summary: how they would have a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: deuce, jack, ruggie, jamil, sebek additional info: romantic, reader isn't specified to be yuu except in sebek's part because I found it funny, reader is gender neutral, deuce is a cutie patootie

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

oh, he is in utter turmoil about this

on one hand: he really, really likes you

you're such a wonderful person

the kind of partner he'd be proud to introduce to his mom

on the other hand...

he really, really doesn't want to mess this up

you already have such a great thing going on as friends!

if he ruined that, he would literally never forgive himself

and Ace would make fun of him for it until the very end of time itself

so, of course he just sits on these feelings. maybe if he focuses on something else, they'll go away?

spoiler alert: they do not

they definitely do not

if anything, trying to ignore them just makes it worse for him; suddenly he's becoming an entirely different person around you

it's like a switch is flipped the second you're in the room

he becomes clumsy, easily flustered, can barely string a sentence together

Ace gives him hell about it, of course

and when there's no hope of hiding it any longer, he just confesses

(not that it wasn't obvious already... but for his sake, you'll have to pretend like it's shocking news)

𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥

he's actually... pretty upfront about it?

once he's got his feelings on the matter sorted, anyway

...which takes him a few weeks

when he first recognizes his crush on you, he pours himself into his training

not as a distraction, really; he just finds it easier to think when he's working out

he really does want to think this one through

much like Deuce, Jack understands that he'd put the friendship at risk if he were to confess

unlike Deuce, however, he's somewhat aware that ignoring and hiding is a coward's way out, and will only push you away

so, once he's very sure about his feelings, he confesses

it's not exactly like a confession, though

more of a... lecture?

just informs you that he's developed feelings, doesn't want them to affect the friendship, and leaves the decision up to you

won't freak if you don't reciprocate, but... he might be a little bummed out

okay... more than a little

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

first thought: he doesn't have time for this

Ruggie has a job, school, and a whole neighborhood to feed back home

now a partner? no, that's completely out of the question

besides, it's not like you'd ever reciprocate. who'd wanna spend every date eating dandelion salad?

no one, that's who

of course he doesn't bother asking, but he assumes that goes without saying

but he's busy enough to put those feelings on the back burner and deal with them some other day

...if only he wasn't so distracted by thoughts of you, that plan might have worked!

by his third slip-up, Leona's had enough and demands he's gotta sort out whatever's bothering him if he ever wants to show his face there again

(he might've been in a bad mood)

but, unfortunately, Ruggie knows he's right

it's better to be rejected now than to spend the rest of his school days mulling over it

so, he just spills the beans, as plain and simple as possible

tries to walk away as soon as he's done so he doesn't have to see the look on your face

you can imagine his surprise when you pull him back

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

actually has a pretty similar reaction to Ruggie

Jamil can't possibly fathom having a partner in a world where he doesn't even have his own freedom

in a sense, he just doesn't want to drag you into his life

in another, more important sense, he would be devastated if you rejected him

so he just... ignores it

of course, Jamil knows that pretending the feelings aren't there won't do much, but he doesn't really have a lot of options

he's not one to talk through his feelings, after all

not that anyone asks...

and his ability to interact with you as if nothing is different is astonishing

even if it feels like he's melting inside

though, you may catch him smiling more at you these days

he just can't help himself

when he's got his other stuff sorted, you'll be next on the agenda

𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐙𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭

you claim to have no magic, and yet you bewitch him into caring about you just as much as his liege?!

well... maybe not as much...

but close! very close!

even admitting that to himself feels like high treason

nonetheless, you have to be something very special to distract him from what he calls his "true purpose in life"

he sees you and feels... ill?

he's light-headed, he's dizzy, his stomach feels funny...

and he's been thinking about you more so than usual

yes, you're friends... he'll even admit he's grown quite fond of you in comparison to the other people you call "friends"

but this is... unusual

surely, you've placed some kind of curse on him!

Silver is the first to hear about it

poor boy is too tired to deal, and so he passes on the problem to Lilia

who just chuckles and makes a lot of odd references and metaphors that no one of this century would understand

no, Sebek has to come to the conclusion that he likes you all on his own

(like-likes you)

and after some pestering from Lilia, he admits that perhaps you and he could protect Malleus... together!

(he's going to have to work on the wording of that confession)

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jamil viper x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #queued

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lil13 · 1 year

Text

FEELINGS - j. champion

You and Jack met during the chemistry reads for Scream VI. It was obvious that, from the beginning, you two were close. Your personalities went well together and everyone saw your obvious chemistry. The chemistry really helped, seeing as your characters were love interests. As time went on, you began to see Jack differently and he the same. And maybe, unlike your characters, the two of you would have a happy ending.

•

Filming for Scream VI was slowly coming to an end. You heard someone say that you only had about 2 weeks of filming left before everything wrapped.

It was bittersweet.

Occasionally, you'd find yourself reminiscing about all of the friendships and memories you've made this summer. Something about your castmates just made the whole filming process all the more better. Especially since this was your first real project.

The directors were taking a chance with you, hiring a newcomer was a risky move. But needless to say, they believed they made the right choice. You were a phenomenal actor.

"Earth go, Y/N." Jasmine was waving her hand in front of your face, bringing your attention back to the 4 sitting around you.

You, Melissa, Jenna, Devyn, Liana, and Jenna all sat in a circle in the grass. A break had been announced while they worked out some kinks in a scene and they let you all just chill together.

"Hmm?"

Devyn reached over and squeezed your hand, smiling sweetly at you. "We're rating our castmates 'cause we're bored."

She was the sweetest, just like her character.

"And it's time to rate Mason, and I don't plan on rating him because he's like my brother and that's weird." Jasmine laughed, earning laughs from the group.

You shrugged, "7.5?"

Most nodded, except for Jenna who scoffed and called out the number 4. Her response only elicited a fit of laughter from the group. Jenna loved picking on Mason, it was one of her favorite pastimes.

"Oooh, i've got one." Melissa clapped her hands in excitement. "Y/N, rate Jack."

You swallowed harshly. Suddenly very thankful that the boys weren't around instead of being mopey like you had been before. You actually had been wishing that Jack... and Mason were there. But now that they'd asked that? Their absence was actually a blessing.

"3."

Jack was your best friend.

"Bullshit!" Liana yelled.

She was right, you'd lied straight through your teeth. You'd met Jack while doing chemistry reads months ago. Your characters played love interests so you'd gotten to meet the boy before the rest of the cast so the directors could ensure the two of you had believable chemistry.

"Um." you mumbled, you'd actually fallen for him as time passed.

When you got to set in June you thought the constant butterflies in your stomach were from being excited and nervous to film. It wasn't until a week or two later and you were grabbing lunch alone with Jack that you realized that the butterflies only showed up when you were in his presence.

Jenna playfully pushed you by the arm, "C'mon, tell us the real answer."

You hated how they knew about your real feelings. You had never admitted them, though. So, their knowledge was pure speculation at this point.

"10." you'd said it almost too quiet for them to hear.

But when they erupted in screams and Devyn tackled you in a hug, you knew they'd heard you.

"No one can tell him! He definitely only sees me as a friend and i'm not ruining the friendship." you instructed from your spot below Devyn.

They all agreed to not tell, but also told you that you were wrong. Apparently they knew that your feelings weren't 1 sided.

"Who likes who?"

You all froze.

It was the familiar voice of Jack that made your stomach drop. Devyn crawled off of you, helping you sit up. You couldn't bare to look at Jack. You were sure your cheeks were bright red and he'd know immediately.

"Chad likes Tara." Jenna blurted, attempting to get Jack off the topic.

The grass looked very interesting all of a sudden.

"Well, I knew that. That's boring." he scoffed.

You mentally cursed when he sat down next to you on the grass, his knee bumping with yours. It took everything in you to not look at him still. Jack was your best friend after all, his brown eyes always brightened your day.

"Jackson, wanna play our game?" Jasmine broke the silence.

Your eyes snapped to Jasmine's, she wouldn't.

You looked around the circle, realizing that all of the girls had smirks on their lips. They knew what Jasmine was up to.

"Sure?" he laughed nervously.

Jasmine rubbed her hands together, never looking back at you. "We're rating our castmates, so, rate Y/N."

"Easy, 10."

What?

You looked right at him as all of the girls went crazy. Did he say what you thought he did?

He wouldn't look at you though, his cheeks burning crimson. You couldn't tell the reason behind the blushing, though, sometimes Jack would blush when he had too much attention on him.

But it still made you sick that he wouldn't look at you.

"I don't feel good." you mumbled, jumping up and running off.

Jack was oblivious though.

While you were basically dry heaving in your trailer, he had texted and wished for you to feel better and to ask if you were still on for your movie night. You sighed, actually thankful that he didn't get the hint as to why Jasmine had asked or why you ran off and simply texted a "thank you, and yes."

The Jasmine texted, checking on you and apologizing for asking Jack. Even adding the disclaimer about how at least he thought you were a 10. You forgave her and told here there were no hard feelings. It was just a simple game.

A few hours later and you had all returned to your apartments for the night.

You were freshly showered with your hair in two braids down your back, body clad in pajamas. Your pajamas consisted of a pair of boy's boxers and a tshirt Jack had given you of his. The two of you were at his apartment one night and you saw an avatar shirt he had on the arm of his couch and you had geeked out over it. In that moment, Jack knew he had to give it to you.

The shirt had brought you more joy than it probably ever would him, and he'd definitely smile every time he saw you in it.

"Knock, knock!" Jack called out as he walked in using the key you'd given him in case you lost yours — well that and you didn't want to have to let him in every time he came over.

He held up a bag of takeout, "I still got the tacos in case you were hungry. Feeling better?"

You nodded, walking over and taking the bag from his hand, leading him to the kitchen.

"I don't know what happened." you lied, taking the containers out of the bag. "But i'm much better now."

The two of your stood in the kitchen eating your tacos. For some reason, every time Jack came over he'd bring tacos from this place you two had found at the beginning of filming. You'd stand around in the kitchen and chow done, catching up on any time spent apart before eventually finishing and going to watch your movie of choice.

"Do you mind if we watch in my room? I'm exhausted." you sold your story by yawning.

You were telling the truth, you were absolutely wiped today. Jack shrugged, lunging toward you and picked you up. You let out a scream of surprise as he carried you, walking you back to your bedroom.

He carefully sat you down on the covers and let you crawl into your spot while he took his shoes off. Without hesitation, he crawled in next to you, propping himself against the headrest.

Your heart started beating closer at your proximity. You tried to ignore it be cueing up the movie, Scream (2022) tonight. The two of you had been on a Scream kick lately.

"This one's gonna be weird to watch since we know these weirdos in real life." Jack chuckled, getting more comfortable, which only brought him closer to you.

Was that on purpose?

You couldn't tell.

As the movie went on, you suddenly became super aware of how close the two of you were sitting. Your head was only inches from Jack's shoulder, so you gave in, letting your head fall onto him.

You'd done this countless times before, but this time felt different. You could've sworn you heard Jack breathe in sharply.

A couple minutes passed before you felt something touching your hand under the covers. You focused for a second before realizing that Jack was tapping the back of your hand with his fingers. Without thinking, you flipped your hand so your palm was up, Jack quickly intertwining his fingers with yours now.

You'd never been more thankful that it was dark, because he wouldn't be able to see how red your cheeks were now.

You got more comfortable, enjoying both the movie and Jack rubbing the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb. Once again, he'd held your hand before, but this time felt different.

Your mind was going crazy and so were all the butterflies in your stomach. Oh what this boy did to you.

You'd met him about a month after you had turned 17, about a week before Christmas. His birthday about a month prior to that. The two of you had bonded over being "late 2004 babies" and the rest of your friendship was history.

But what if it changes tonight?

Jack squeezed your hand.

You lifted your head, looking to him, your hands staying connected. Jack had a different look on his face, once that you'd only ever seen when he was playing Ethan and he was looking at you. This was a look you'd seen Jack portray when looking at his girlfriend.

But this time the look felt entirely genuine.

"J?" you questioned quietly when you noticed his eyes flickering to different places around your face, one of them being your lips.

It was like you were nervous.

Almost questioning if this was real.

Jack didn't say anything, instead he ducked his head and connected his lips with yours. You gasped slightly, not expecting his abruptness.

But you didn't hesitate to kiss back.

Sure, you'd kissed before while acting, but this right here? This was real. This was Jack and Y/N. Not Ethan and Y/C/N.

Your free hand held the back of his neck, fingers fiddling with the curls at the nape of his neck. Jack smiled into the kiss and you swore you almost lost all composure.

How could he be so cute?

His hand broke free of yours and you faltered for a second. Only regaining your composure when you felt his hands grips your hips to pull you on top of him. You forgot how strong he was.

Jack's hands stayed on your hips while your hand not on the back of his neck decided to rest on his chest. You hadn't realize how toned he was and you could definitely feel the muscle under his tshirt.

He pulled away, letting you sit up slightly as you both goofily smiled at each other. "I'm assuming this is okay since you so willing let me pull you onto my lap?" Jack raised an eyebrow, the slightest smirk playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but peck his lips, heart fluttering when you saw his smirk falter into a pout when you pulled away so quickly.

"I mean, we both rated each other 10s earlier and i'm pretty sure i've liked you for a couple months now."

He seemed proud of himself, the cutest smile now on his lips. "Good, good. Glad I didn't read the signs wrong and ruin the friendship."

"That'd be awful."

You hand slid around from the back of his neck and up to his cheek, your thumb rubbing over his cheekbone. You couldn't help but admire him.

You've done that time and time again. But never this close or with these feelings.

He was looking at you the same way. His hands had found their way underneath your shirt, sitting on your bare waist and thumbs caressing the soft skin underneath them.

"Kiss me again, your lips are addicting." he mumbled, his voice quiet from being mesmerized by the situation he'd found himself in.

You happily obliged.

You quickly leaned in and connected your lips, both of you moving together in sync. It was like your lips were created to be together.

Jack's hands stayed put, never once wandering. And same for you. The two of you were content with doing exactly what you were doing. Maybe the rest will come a different day.

"Stay over tonight?" you mumbled against his lips.

You felt him nod, "I'd like that."

You were ecstatic. The thought of falling asleep in Jack's arms had you beyond excited. He always made you feel safe, so you had a feeling you'd sleep like a baby tonight.

"Good, good." You let a finger lightly trace his jawline, down his neck, down his chest, and then stopping when you left your hand to rest in his lap.

Jack caught you hand, breaking the kiss and looking you dead in the eye, his eyes wider than usual. "I'm going to need you to not do that again, because i'm really trying to be respectful and only kiss you tonight and that's not helping."

Your cheeks burned red, "Oh." You patted his chest, "Then let's stop this for now and finish the movie."

You crawled off of him, Jack saying something about how that was a good idea before kissing you quickly once more. You tucked your body into his once more, except now your head was rested on his chest and his arm fell lazily around your body.

You could get used to this.

#jack champion #scream #ghostface #jack champion x y/n #jack champion x reader #love #romance #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry

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discofama · 3 months

Text

I love how comfortable Adam and Lute are around each other.

I mean, look at this

So they're casually together during the extermination, much like how friends gravitate towards each other when in an event even if they're not talking or doing anything, just because it feels easier than being alone. Or perhaps Lute flew closer because she saw the huge war machine approaching Adam and got a little worried.

Charlie and Vaggie are going to attack them, and look at what they do:

Despite being Adam the one closer to Vaggie, he doesn't move an inch. They don't say anything (besides the shit talk) and Adam doesn't even look at her, he expects Lute will take care of Vaggie with no order from him, even if he's closer.

Obviously Adam is confident and doesn't think Vaggie can hurt him at all, but he clearly trusts Lute to get her out of the way. He probably knows how bloodthirsty Lute is for Vaggie and lets her have her without a word, and Lute complies, again, without a word, leaving him to handle the strongest of the enemies at that moment (Charlie).

So in this second, Adam and Lute communicated in silence. Adam didn't move and trusted her to cut in even if it was him the one under attack, and finally Lute trusted him to handle Charlie so she could fight Vaggie, as she didn't seem worried at all of the possibility of Charlie coming to protect her girlfriend.

They're in harmony. They're just natural together.

He lets her grab him like this and is willing to listen to her. It's clear he respects her and deep down appreciates that she'll keep him from doing something stupid, even if he whines.

She also climbs him? Lol. (Look at how she holds onto his arm 🥹 she's super comfortable with touching him!)

They're always hyping each other up, like in their songs:

(Look at Lute's smug face here 👇, she's sooo satisfied with what Adam's saying)

I honestly believe that they kinda make each other worse, that neither of them would be SO mean all the time if they didn't have the other: a companion who is always backing them up, who agrees on any crap that comes out of their mouth (Lute lets him talk shit about random women and nods, Adam goes along with Lute's homophobia despite seeming to not care that much about homosexuals).

Many portray Lute being a lot smarter than Adam, but I think they're both dumbasses. I mean, we laugh at Adam for saying he never made a mistake in his fucking life, but it was Lute who first stated angels don't make mistakes, somehow keeping a serious face. I think Lute seems smart because she's more quiet and cares about the rules, but she doesn't do logic very well either and can be impulsive too, as shown in the end of ep. 1.

They're probably each other's best/only friend, because they're just so unlikeable. And it makes sense they'd deeply care for one another. They care about that person that stands them and agrees with them and actually enjoys being with them. They're always seen together, hanging out even off duty. They clearly have a lot of fun.

I'll be honest. I ship GuitarSpear, I love it, but I don't know if I want it to be canon for 2 reasons:

1. Lute might be a lesbian.

She is so repulsed by homosexuals that it feels personal. Talking about how disgusting and blasphemous Charlie and Vaggie's love is, or how many cocks were in Angel's mouth and calling him a whore. She cares too much about it for it to not be personal, and I think it makes sense that she'd be a closet lesbian with a shit ton of internalized homophobia. She probably knew about Vaggie's sexuality and held a lot of resentment towards her before tearing off her wings. Maybe she was even attracted to her and was so repulsed about it that she redirected her self-hatred to Vaggie.

2. I think it could be better for Adam's character.

Let's just think about it. This character has a very distorted view of women, he has a fixation on them and hypersexualizes them. So the idea of this horny man, who always sees women with sex colored glasses, being good friends with a hot female below him in the hierarchy with no sexual or romantic interest whatsoever is nice to me. It'd work as sort of a redeeming quality in regards of his relationship with women, and I personally think this man is very redeemable. Let's hope he gets a second chance!

Still! All of this trust and comfort and team feelings can be read as romantic and I certainly wouldn't mind if it becomes canon! They could be the best villain couple!

Summarizing, these two are soulmates, end of the story. They're worse together, but also probably provide the other of a very needed company.

I have no clue if Adam will actually come back, but if he doesn't, I'll feel very bad for Lute. Yeah, yeah, she's an evil bitch, I don't care.

#sorry if the way i write isn't very sophisticated #english is my second language 👉👈#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #analysis #guitarspear

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sorcerous-caress · 6 months

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So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.

Dealing with a Teacher Tav

[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]

[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]

Gale

He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.

Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.

Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.

He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.

Shadowheart

She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.

She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?

One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.

Laezel

Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.

You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?

Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?

Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.

Wyll

As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.

The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.

Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.

You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.

He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."

You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.

Karlach

Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.

In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.

She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?

Astarion

You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.

It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.

Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.

Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.

Halsin

Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.

But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.

Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.

Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.

Minthara

As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.

Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.

....it's not as bad as she imagined.

She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.

But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.

Jaheira

Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.

Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.

A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.

If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.

Minsc

Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.

Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.

You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.

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rbbrbikerthorp · 2 months

Text

Chavs No More

Liam and Josh, two 19 year old mates who were known around their neighbourhood for their cocky, rebellious attitude and distinct dress, found themselves wandering through an area of the city that had been neglected for too many years. As they walked and 'chatted shit' they spotted a disused warehouse with smashed windows and broken doors. It seemed like the perfect place to kill time, perhaps, indulge in a bit of mischief and check it our as a possible place to get together with their other mates for drinking and smoking.

Josh took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the crisp air. The two life-long friends approached the rundown warehouse, its windows broken and doors creaking ominously on their hinges.

"Oi, Liam, reckon we can get in there?" Josh asked, nodding towards the entrance.

Liam smirked, "Easy. Watch and learn."

With a swift movement, Liam produced a crowbar from his bag, expertly jimmying the lock on the door. The two scallies slipped through the doorway into the building; their footsteps echoing in the emptiness of a very large space. The expanse of the space they found themselves in suggested the building's original purpose was a factory, although neither had a sense of what was once produced there. Josh lit up another cigarette, while Liam explored the desolate space hoping, perhaps, that he would happen upon something of value.

Josh stamped out his cigarette as Liam returned empty-handed.

"Liam, let's see if ther is like owt worth stealin'. look ova ther", Josh said pointing towards a set of double doors on the far side of the building.

The two friends began to wander across the former factory floor eventually reaching the double doors. Josh was about to push on the doors, but something was niggling Liam. He was unsure about going any further; grabbing Josh's arm.

"Did ya hear that?" Liam asked, looking around.

"Na, it's nothin'. Old buildings mack noises - c'mon"

That would be the last time that either of the two chavs would subconsciously assess the risks they may possibly face going further into the building.

Josh pushed on one of the doors. The squeaking noise made by the door opening suggested no one had used them in a long, long time.

The doorway opened up to a long corridor. Light emanated through opaque glass windows, many cracked and broken on one side of the corridor. On the other side there were rooms, which has clearly been used as in the past as offices. Most were just empty shells; the fixtures and fittings having been removed long ago.

As the two lads continued walking down the corridor they were so preoccupied by the thoughts of finding something valuable they could purloin that they didn't notice two wheelchairs left to one side. If they had been more observant they might have wondered why there were relatively new wheelchairs in an abandoned factory.

Liam and Josh carried on walking, passing more empty rooms and another wheelchair. Eventually they came to the end of the corridor where there was one, solid door. Unlike the others they'd passed by this door was padlocked. It also looked as though it had been recently fitted. The two older teens were eager to make their exploration of the derelict building worthwhile financially, so there was no way they wouldn't try break through the door.

Liam raised an eyebrow at Josh, who grinned in agreement. The crowbar made quick work of the padlock, and the door swung open, revealing a surprisingly bright, modern room filled with computer equipment. The room appeared unoccupied, but in the background was the sound of technology. All the screens were active; filled with row upon row of green text. There were two huge screens on one of the walls.

Josh was looking around the room; figuring out what they could easily pilfer and get the most money for. What caught Liam's attention was the dozen or so circular platforms in the middle of the room.

Josh tapped Liam's shoulder, "Look at these bruv," he said pointing to the middle of the room. Liam turned around looked to where Josh was pointing.

"What the..." Liam didn't finish the sentence before Josh interrupted.

"What the f*** is this like place?"

"You tell me bruv."

Intrigued by the peculiar sight, Liam and Josh couldn't resist walking over to the platforms, their chav bravado overcoming any sense of fear. The two chavs stood on the platforms, smirking at one another.

Until now they'd not noticed the body-sized, circular perspex tubes retracted above their heads. Just then they heard a motor start up above their heads.

Looking up, "look out," Liam shouted, but it was too late.

In a split second, the tubes above their heads dropped to the floor, enclosing the two scallies inside. Panic set in as they screamed for help, finally realising the gravity of their situation.

Josh and Liam's screams echoed through the room as the perspex tubes trapped the chavs on the platforms below. A weird mist began to seep into the tubes, swirling around the panicking duo. Initially resistant, the mist began to work its magic.

Josh and Liam's screams softened to muffled protests, and eventually, their once defiant voices fell into an eerie silence. The spine-chilling mist continued its work, transforming the rowdy chav friends into docile and compliant figures. As the eerie mist continued to swirl around the tubes, their eyes glazed over. After a few minutes the two chavs fell unconscious, succumbing to the mysterious effects of the mist - their fate unknown to them.,

Once it was confirmed that Josh and Liam were knocked out, the tubes retracted into the ceiling, leaving the room eerily quiet. Just as the last traces of the mist dissipated, the door creaked open, revealing two imposing figures in their early thirties. Tough and athletic, they entered the room pushing empty wheelchairs. The same ones that Josh and Liam had ignored as they walked along the the corridor not long ago.

Without a word, the mysterious pair approached Josh first, effortlessly lifting his limp form and placing him into the first wheelchair. The same process followed for Liam, their actions efficient and practiced. The once unruly chavs now sat, unconscious and passive, in the wheelchairs.

The two males wheeled Josh and Liam into an adjacent room, where a dim light revealed an array of sophisticated equipment. They positioned the wheelchairs in a calculated manner, whilst the transformative effects of the mist maintained its hold on their bodies and minds.

Whilst two chavs were unconscious, one of the males retrieved a pair of clippers. To finalise the process the two friends would go through they needed their heads shaving, and this was to be done before they came round.

Minutes passed, and gradually, the chavs began to stir. Their eyes blinked open, confusion replacing the previous chaos. Yet, as Josh and Liam looked around, their mannerisms had been already changed irrevocably. The aggressiveness and defiance that once defined them had been replaced with a newfound obedience and compliance.

Josh and Liam sat in their wheelchairs, their once-rebellious spirits now subdued. They looked at each other and then took-in their surroundings. The room was sterile, and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead added an eerie ambiance to the atmosphere. The two chavs awaited their fate.

Two shaved-headed males in green scrubs entered the room. They walked over to where Josh and Liam were sitting in the wheelchairs. They released the wheel brakes and pushed the two lads towards a pair of hospital beds. Without a word, they efficiently transferred Josh and Liam onto the beds and gently made them lay back. The once-rebellious duo stared blankly ahead, their eyes devoid of the spark that once characterised them.

The mysterious figures produced a pair of helmets from a nearby table. The helmets had curved face covering visors and were equipped with an array of wires and sensors. The men is scrubs carefully placed the helmets over the heads of the two chavs.

Left alone in the room, Josh and Liam lay motionless as the helmets began their work. Unseen forces rewrote their minds, further erasing traces of defiance and moulding them into compliant, obedient beings. The room remained silent, save for the faint hum of the equipment that orchestrated the transformation.

Once the process was complete, the two shaved-headed males returned to the room. The chavs' minds were now blank slates, ready for the next phase of their transformation.

They replaced the iconic chav tracksuits with sleek black skinsuits. The transformation was both symbolic and practical, signalling the departure from their previous identities. The once distinctive and brash street-wear was replaced with a uniformity that mirrored their new, compliant state.

With the skinsuits in place, the helmets were refitted once more, this time for further programming.

The room buzzed with unseen energy as the final touches were applied. The chavs' once-chaotic personalities were long gone. All that remained were compliant shells, devoid of all human emotion; ready to embrace a new purpose.

In a room filled with monitors, the shaved-headed males observed their work with a satisfied nod. They watched Josh and Liam laid on hospital beds, their minds blank and their bodies clad in black skinsuits.

The door opened and two technicians entered the observation room. It was time. The moment had come to usher the former chavs into the next phase of their transformation.

The compliant duo was wheeled into an adjacent room, where a series of machines resembling MRI scanners awaited them. However, these were not ordinary medical devices. Instead, they were machines designed to augment the human body, turning ordinary individuals into hybrid human-cyborgs.

The technicians meticulously positioned Josh and Liam in front of the metallic chambers, securing them in place. Over a three hour period, the two young males would go through a series of transformations, the first of which would prepare their bodies for the synthetic augmentations to come.

The low hum of the machines echoed through the room as the transformation began. The beds were pulled backwards into the MRI-like machines.

Once inside the first stage of the process began. Metal plates descended from the tubes, fitting onto various parts of the chavs' bodies with precision. Once this was complete, circuitry was added connecting the various metal plates. What couldn't be seen to the casual observer was that under the metal plating, a synthetic bonding was taking place. A bonding that permeated through the skinsuit and into the human flesh.

One by one, an artificial, mechanical limb replaced one of their natural ones. The flesh coloured arms and legs were now adorned with sleek, metallic enhancements, making them stronger and more resilient. The technicians worked with practiced efficiency, their gloved hands expertly activating the cybernetic upgrades.

Next came the ocular implants. The machines were programmed to approach installation of the eye replacements with precision. An implement descended from inside the machine, carefully removing one human eye from each chav and replacing it with the advanced technology. The blue glow emanating from the ocular implants signalled the integration of their new cybernetic enhancements.

As the machines continued their work, the once-defiant chavs had now been transformed into hybrid human-cyborgs, their bodies now a fusion of the biological and the synthetic. That said, other tha their heads, observers might struggle to find any visible evidence of the humans that were Josh and Liam - so much of their bodies now covered in metal.

The technicians stepped back, admiring their creation as the final adjustments were made.

The door to the room opened once more, revealing a figure cloaked in shadow – the former chavs' new master had arrived. With a wave of their hand, the technicians and shaved-headed figures in scrubs retreated, leaving Josh and Liam standing motionless, now fully augmented and awaiting the programming that would dictate their new purpose.

The master approached; a sinister figure with pale white flesh. dark veins and gas mask with eerie blue lenses that looked like it had absorbed into his face. The room hummed with anticipation as the final step of the transformation unfolded. The once-chavs, now hybrid human-cyborgs, were ready to serve their mysterious master. The machines had worked their magic, creating two obedient, formidable entities ready to carry out the bidding of their creator.

The enigmatic figure, shrouded in darkness, stepped forward and issued their first command to the newly transformed duo. "[Hiss] Josh, Liam, [Hiss] your first task is [Hiss] to bring others to me. You will bring [Hiss] your former friends to me. They, too, [Hiss] shall undergo the transformation [Hiss] and join your ranks as cyborgs [Hiss]."

Obediently, the two cyborgs nodded in unison, their blue ocular implants began glowing with a cold intensity. With a calculated efficiency, they left the room, their enhanced limbs moving with a precision that betrayed their former chav recklessness.

Before the cyborgs that were once Josh and Liam exited the disused factory, which was now serving a darker purpose, they donned a Nike Hoodie and skinny trackie pants - so they could blend in. The two friends roamed the streets, scanning the corners and alleys for their former comrades. Their new master's command echoed in their minds, drowning out any remnants of their past lives.

Finally, Josh and Liam located the group. The chavs, unaware of the transformation that awaited them, gathered in their usual haunt. The familiar faces turned to greet their once brethren. Expecting to see Josh and Liam, instead they saw the cold, unyielding gazes of the hybrid human-cyborgs.

#drone #cyborg #conversion #helmet #the borg #scally chav #gas mask #ai generated

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could do like Wednesday x fem yn but like Wednesday trying to tell mortica and gomez she has a gf and not knowing how they'd react and edin trys to help her and in the end they find out somehow you can pick if they take it good or bad but yea

A/n: I’ve seen this get asked to another person but I’m too proud of what I had already written to throw it away.

The crystal ball upon Wednesday’s desk taunted her with the impending call from her parents. Wednesday was something she hadn’t been in a long time; worried. The last time she had spoken with her parents, a lot had changed and one of the most recent and most prominent changes was that she had found herself a girlfriend.

How you met was the typical run of the mill meet cute, Wednesday was caught doing something she wasn’t meant to and she threatened to take your tongue, vocal chords and hands should you ever rat her out. Your response? “You’re beautiful.” Ever since then you had been constantly drawn to the chaos that was Wednesday Addams and not once has the thought of ever letting you go crossed her wicked mind. She was happy, a word she never thought she’d use in a lifetime but truly, for the first time in a long time she was happy. You made the insides of her hollow husk of a human vessel warm.

You lit a match and threw it upon her coal heart, setting it ablaze with the very foundations of life as the fires reflected in her dark eyes. You were her cara mia as she was your mon cher. For you Wednesday would die for you, kill for you, even live for you should you command it of her. It was moments like those that she began to see how alike she was to her father; Unhealthy obsessed with the object of their eternal attraction. So unhealthy in fact the pair might possibly be clinically insane with their love. However not even a highly facilitated psychiatric ward would be able to prevent Wednesday from coming back to you.

For she would have it burnt to the ground in your name as though she were a crazed religious fanatic, pleading her love to the only form of higher power that ever truly existed; You. If she had it her way, you’d both would’ve carved out and calcified your beating hearts for the other, to have and to hold until you were both cold and dead within the ground that would make up your grave. You would now and forever more belong to Wednesday as she would belong to you until the dark forces swelled you both whole; snuffing out your mortal flame for good.

So as Wednesday clamped down on her finger nails, bitting them right down to the nub and then some, Enid couldn’t help but feel concerned for her friend as she stared vehemently at her -seemingly- only form of communication with a look in her eyes. “What’s chomping you at the bit.” Enid asked, begrudging to know the answer but knew that Wednesday was in a situation where a friend was something that she could use right now. “My parents will be calling soon.” Wednesday merely said, not taking her eyes off of the crystal ball as though she was awaiting for it to go off.

“That’s great! Unless your relationship with them is questionable at best then that’s…not great.” Enid trails off when she began to notice that she wasn’t helping in making the situation any better even in the slightest. However the blonde wasn’t one to give up even in the face of adversity, Enid presses onward and upward. “My parents only sent me here to mold me in their image, to forge a carbon copy of themselves out of me by the time inn through with this place,” Enid stayed silent, “I get sent to the same dormitory my mother once resided, I have premonitions like she does.” Wednesday falls silent as her fists clenched in silent anguish.

“However I am not my mother, nor will I ever be like her because unlike her I have a heart to give and I gave it to y/n upon a moonlight night; the same night where the crows dropped dead before us and black dahlias bloomed by our feet.” Enid smiled warmly, remembering the twinkle in Wednesday’s eyes when she came back to the dome after her first official date with you down by the greenhouse. It was a dangerous twinkle but a twinkle none the less, Wednesday could’ve told her that you had a sparing match that ended with the tips of your blades poised at the others throat and the werewolf would’ve still somehow find it romantic.

“Now I am seemingly at an impasse with the illogical concerns of how my parents would react to me engaging in romantic circumstances with another girl, despite being well aware of their stances on societal demands.” Wednesday admitted, not use to feeling this vulnerable in front of another person but at this point in their relationship, Wednesday trusted Enid -despite how much of a gossip she could be- a smidge more then she did the rest of the student body that made up Nevermore. So if anything, this was Wednesday’s silent cry for Enid’s help and luckily she wasn’t overly dense to not notice.

“Wednesday,” Enid began as she moved over to stand by her friends’ side, “what your parents think shouldn’t reflect upon your relationship with y/n. You love her and she loves you, so why ruin a perfectly good thing by listening to what you parents think.” She places her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders and made sure that they were meeting eye to eye. “Never, not once, since I’ve came to know you had you given a shit about what others thought of you. So why give a shit now?” Wednesday has to admit, Enid was right. Why should she all of a sudden care when all she’s ever done thus far was deflect other peoples opinion on her. It made no logical sense but she guessed that now that you were in the picture with her; Wednesday worries about her parents perception of you.

Just as Enid was about to continue with her speech, the crystal ball went off and within the clear cut glass could the image of Gomez’ stout figure and Morticia’s taller frame could be seen as though they were actually trapped within the crystal itself. Upon seeing their daughter, Gomez and Morticia sat up straighter and smiled at Wednesday who only stared blankly at them, blinking slowly like a cat does when trying to convey their emotions to their owners. “There’s my little death moth, how’s Nevermore been treating you?” Gomez started as Morticia only took in her daughter’s expressions with a curious furrow in her brow but she didn’t speak upon it. Yet.

“Same as usual, however-“ “however you have found love, with a girl perhaps?” Wednesday straightened at her mother’s words. “How did you-“ “call it a mother’s intuition my dear death blossom.” Morticia’s unnerving voice cut her off as she looked to Gomez who was already looking at her, love sick. “Our daughter has found love Gomez, the ancestors must’ve blessed her already.” Gomez only grasped Morticia’s hand that rested on the chair arm tightly. “That’s amazing ‘tish, our little cope has found her forever mouse to play with until she too becomes a viper, until she becomes an Addams.” Wednesday perks up at this, her parents were indirectly giving you their blessing to marry her, to join your soul with hers as one until the end of your shared days.

Enid, still in the room, was trying her hardest not to squeal in excitement. Sure this event wouldn’t be until later down the line but she hopes she becomes your guys maid of honour.

#wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday Addams fanfic #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #Wednesday x you #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic

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cocobirdi · 5 months

Text

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 | CLAY

request. @BlueSpicaStar on wattpad

word count. 1.5k.

warnings. like three curse words. (not proofread)

info. pre-trolls trilogy.

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"BroZone! BroZone! BroZone!"

You didn't even know why you were here, to be quite frank.

How, out of all the people your friend knew, did she decide you'd be the best pick to attend the silly concert with her? When, in your years of friendship, have you expressed even the slightest interest in BroZone? And why, out of all your options, did you agree to go?

You aren't a fan. You never were a fan; you could really care less about the band until she brought them up and then invited you to attend with her.

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"How do you not know BroZone? They are literally dominating the music industry as we breathe. There's merchandise and posters of them being sold everywhere—hello, even the grocery store sells merch! Way too expensive compared to other shops... and the material does not feel very great," she ranted, the energetic girl tapping at her cheek.

"But anyway, how do you not know them? Have you been living under a rock?"

Engrossed in the scrapbook under you, retelling the events of your day in the form of glitter and silly fuzzy drawings. You had barely paid any mind to her or her rambling, continuing to draw, cut, and paste away.

The truth is, you had actually heard of the band—hard not to when it's plastered everywhere—but due to your negligence in the conversation, you had been throwing mindless uh-huh's and uh-uh's without a second thought, giving misleading responses.

She called your name with a drawl, flicking your forehead.

"Ow," you mumbled, looking up at her with a pout at the attack. "What'd you do that for?"

This time your name was said in frustration, receiving a smack on your head instead, "I've been talking to you and you weren't listening. I am wasting precious vocals here that I could be instead saving for the concert!"

"What concert—ow!"

"BroZone." She deadpanned.

"Oh, I know BroZone." You looked back down at the scrapbook, glueing and pasting a little mini version of your friend. "Not a fan."

The biggest gasp ever came from the other girl, her hands dramatically coming up and covering her mouth in utter disbelief. With the way she was acting and the hurt on her face, anyone would've assumed that she'd been told someone was dead, and to her, you might as well be.

"Not a fan? How are you not a fan?"

Her eyes widened, and her hands came down to slam shut the book, keen on getting your undivided attention to focus on this very important issue.

"I don't know. Their music is kind of... bland. They're just like any other boyband out there."

"Bland? They are paving the way for music, unlike any band before." she grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together. "Do you know what the family harmony is?"

"Duh. What, have they been able to achieve it? Because if so, then maybe they are as good as you're telling me."

"Not... yet." she hissed. "But soon!"

"For sure."

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Finally managing to escape the clutches of your friend, who held on to you for dear life, claiming that the concert was just about to start—which is exactly why you wanted to flee—using the excuse of having to use the bathroom. The screaming would no doubt burst your eardrums and the little sanity you had left.

You mindlessly wandered the mainly empty halls, unsure of where exactly the bathroom was.

The only trolls you found were some security and a few that rushed past you in a hurry, presumably late, compared to everyone else, to the show.

You were tempted to ask where the bathrooms were, but the intimidation of the dull and scary workers overcame that.

You glanced at the exit, a little voice inside your voice irking you to leave, escape it all. Would your friend really miss your absence that much? They'd probably be too enamored and lost in the band to notice.

A step was taken, but not for the exit, with your eyes catching the familiar sign of the restroom. Your lips curled up slightly at the sanctuary, rushing towards it.

It was a family restroom, and it probably wasn't going to be occupied by any families anytime soon; you took advantage of it's vacancy.

Or at least, you assumed it was vacant.

Your hand reached for the handle, gripping, only for it to be pulled without any force, the door almost hitting you right in the face if it weren't for fast reflexes.

"Oh sh*t, I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would be out here right now." The other troll spoke fast and anxiously, a hand cupping his face, like he was trying to hide from you.

You were spooked a bit by the sudden scare, unaware of the occupancy, but your racing heart slowly calmed down to its regular beat, offering a smile to calm the other's nerves.

"It's okay, me neither."

A turquoise troll with a yellow puffer jacket and hair, white shorts, and wristbands appeared, getting a good look at him. He didn't just sound nervous; he also looked nervous.

He glanced from the floor to you, "I mean, uh."

His entire person changed in a second; an attempt to look more confident than he actually is was made, a smug smile on his lips as he snapped his fingers, winking, "Just wanted to get away real quick."

Licking your lips, you raised a brow in confusion at the change of attitude and nodded slowly.

"That's nice..."

How do you kindly tell him to get the fuck out of your way so you can get into the bathroom?

His face dropped somewhat at your lack of reaction. A mixture of confusion, relief, and intrigue crossed his features.

"You don't know me?" He blurted, "You're strangely calm."

"No. I'm sorry, have we met before?"

He smirked, shaking his head softly, his tense shoulders dropping as he sighed, "No."

He leaned against the restroom doorframe, eyeing you with interest. "Most trolls would be losing their minds right about now. I'm Clay, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Clay." You maintained a calm demeanor despite the strange encounter.

He paused, studying your face as if searching for something. "You're not here for the concert, are you? You seem a bit... out of place."

Your eyes shifted, avoiding a direct answer. "Let's just say I'm not the biggest BroZone fan."

His expression shifted, a playful look in his eyes. "Oh, not a fan of the greatest band in the world, are you?"

You chuckled and shook your head.

"I think that's an exaggeration."

Clay grinned, leaning in a bit closer. "They're not just a band; they're a family. They're all about family harmony. Once you get it, you'll understand."

He spoke as if he weren't part of the band himself, amusing both you and him.

Your eyebrow was raised in disbelief. "Family harmony? As in the unachievable? Sounds like a unique selling point."

He chuckled. "You'll see. Maybe you just need to experience it for yourself."

The crowd's cheering grew louder, catching both of you off-guard. His face dropped and he straightened up, putting distance between the two of you once more.

"That's my cue. See you later...?" He waved his hand, urging you for your name with a growing grin as he shimmied past you to the exit, allowing you entry into the bathroom.

"(Y/N)," you nodded. "And that's if I can even find you in that big ass crowd."

"Oh, you'll find me, alright."

And with a wink, he was gone, leaving you wanting for what he meant.

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Little did you know, you'd find out exactly what he meant the moment you made it back to your friend. She stood upset, scolding you for taking so long but also praising how you managed to make it back with perfect timing, the concert beginning the moment you arrived.

You groaned, smacking yourself in frustration.

As the concert echoed through the arena, you found yourself oddly drawn to the music, not because it was BroZone, but because there seemed to be a familiar dude on stage. The same one you had encountered in the bathroom just ten minutes ago.

Clay couldn't shake you from his mind.

Even with the crowd chanting his name, the band's name, their screeches deafening, he couldn't help but let his roaming eyes search for yours.

And then he found you.

You stared back up at him in disbelief, and your jaw dropped at seeing him on stage.

He was dancing and singing, and all the while, all his attention seemed to be on you and your reaction. He messed up the lyrics, a small laugh escaping, earning him an unnoticed glare from the leader of the group.

He winked again and smiled, the crowd going crazy for it, unbeknownst to its target.

At that moment, amidst the flashing lights and the cheers of the crowd, Clay fell in love. Not with the fame or the music, but with the unexpected connection he found with you.

He couldn't help but wonder how someone like you, who wasn't even a fan, could make him feel more alive than any crowd ever could.

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there you go. first oneshot :3. not sure how to feel lolll definitely an overused idea but i wasnt sure how to go about it and i may or not have gone through tumblr searching for an idea on how to make this work. might write a continuation in the far future once i manage to get through all the requests and get motivation again idk!!!

clay's definitely ooc and i know this is a kids movie so they should be silly but i like to think hes more mature off-stage. that is what he wanted/wants anyway right? explains the unsilliness. all the characters are probably gonna be ooc sjjsjdsh anyway yes :3 BAIIII.

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls band together x reader #brozone #brozone x reader #clay x reader #brozone clay x reader #trolls clay x reader #hes so man

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romihearts · 6 months

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bf headcannons ! ┊ft. first years

synopsis. how they would be as your bf!

content. gn reader, intended lowercase, swearing

her notes. 2nd years next!

ACE TRAPPOLA * ˚ ✦

an asshole to everyone, but becomes even more of an asshole to you /hj

would be a tease, spontaneous flirts really surprise you since you'd never expect this from ace. not to mention, he likes seeing your flustered face, he thinks its adorable.

like showing you off to his friends, spouting things like "y'know they're just so amazing 'cause you'd really find yourself admiring them and—" as epel cuts him off,

his love language ? acts of service. even with small things like tying your shoelace, or removing dust from your uniform.

would drag you along to wreak havoc in heartslabyul with deuce, but if you three get caugt he'll plead to riddle that you're innocent

FIGHTS WITH GRIM LMFAO they'd definitely give glares to each other 'cause they wanted to be in your arms !!

DEUCE SPADE * ˚ ✦

your #1 supporter fr !!

he'd genuinely love anything you do <3 and help you wholeheartedly too !!

if you ever play a sport, he's already learning it so he can play with you. oh you like cooking? he's in cooking classes making a gourmet ass dish. you like arts? he compliments each and everyone of your piece.

he really admires you, you're also that one special person he can always confide in.

tries not to get you into ace's trouble, like ace he will plead and beg riddle that you were not an accomplice whatsoever in ace's doing.

if he ever get's a chance to ride a blastcycle, he'll always take you with him, going to very beautiful places just to see your smile.

his love language? words of affirmation for sure. he'll always be there to tell you the things he loves about you <3

JACK HOWL * ˚ ✦

he was quite distant with you when you first met him, sometimes avoiding you. and you'd get sad since you wanted to be friends with him too.

buuttt, what you didn't know was the reason he avoided you, he fell in love first sight and didn't know how to deal with it.

atleast now, both of you are dating !! yet there are some times where he looks at you a bit too long and stars slightly avoiding you once more. you were just so perfect and he didn't want to seem disrespectful from the staring so he excused himself immediately from you 😭

he deeply respects you, so if you ever have any problems with him tell him immediately so he can resolve and understand you : )

his love language? acts of service too! he'd try his best to help you with anything. wether it'd been academics or sports, he'll do his best to help you.

EPEL FELMIER * ˚ ✦

he DID NOT like you when you first met !!!! which is super contrasting to him now as you're dating.

he thought of you like another pompous student because you looked too amazing for him T-T

nonetheless, when he got to know you more, both of you clicked immediately!

he fell in love with your charms and courage, admiring it aswell.

seeing as you're so badass while still remaining so courteous, he didn't know if he wanted to be you or be with you fr

eventually he was now with you, and the both of you rest in the solace within each other. confiding in them.

oh if epel's having a problem with vil? you're there to talk with him about it. same with you, problems with academics? he'd say your totally right! /j but having him there felt comforting and reassuring already.

his love language? physical touch. behind closed doors he's like a cat because he clings so close to you. displays some pda too, like his hand around your waist or shoulder.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT * ˚ ✦

unlike epel and jack, he was absolutely encapsulated when he saw you. he seriously could not stop staring once he saw you, someone he admired more than malleus ?!

while he is prideful and loud, his confession to you was like the total opposite. either way you still accepted it <3

if you get quickly startled by loud things, sebek will try his best not to scream when you're around.

but, he is blunt and honest aswell with someone. if you ask for criticism on something, he will properly explain what he criticizes then help you afterwards.

his love language? acts of service, he'll service you to the best he can. he'd be willing to help you with schoolworks too.

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catsharky · 1 month

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Something a little different! I'm not really all that interested in doing much with Ascended Astarion, but letting him ascend would definitely tie into Ember's worst possible ending.

Tried to keep this loose and not use 8 billion references for once, but I may end up doing a proper clean version of this at some point in the future.

Ramble after the break:

Their relationship would play out pretty different from canon; not in the sense that Astarion would be better though, Ember would just be worse than Tav is given the option to be as far as I'm aware.

She'd lean full tilt into her worst most toxic traits and they'd mesh beautifully and horrifically with Ascended Astarion's behaviour. She'd thrive being owned, even if it couldn't truly be enforced. The relationship would be based more on obsession than anything else. Constant jabs to get an expected reaction out of each other, and with both being brutally possessive of each other, it would be a common occurrence for one of them to flirt with strangers because they want to see the other tear someone's throat out in a fit of rage.

The worst part is that they (or at least Ember) would genuinely be some kind of happy with each other, making it very unlikely that they could be convinced to break up. All the other party members (and all other people in general, really) would be driven away, not wanting to see their friends like that on top of how unpleasant they are to be around. A relationship like piranha solution, destroying everything around them and making all but each other miserable.

#also surprise! Ember's a cambion. Gonna delve into that at some point probably #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #ascended astarion #tavstarion #female tav #tav: ember #oc: ember #sharky's tav #sharky art

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n1ghtfurys · 12 days

Text

Apocalypse with König

Part 1: Word count: 9475

There's a little bit of gore, mentions kidnapping, weight loss due to lack of food

You'd found him on the road.You'd been planning on making it to your grandparents, since they were in the country. You figured you'd be safer with them if they were still alive and if not you'd at least have a house, maybe their food was still good. They had a greenhouse and so maybe you'd even be able to figure it out.

You hadn't expected to find anyone on your way. Especially since everyone of importance had been evacuated to quarantined cities, and most of the other people who hadn't made the cut had either: started or turned. An unlucky few probably fell prey to the military, and other people who had decided it was better if everyone was dead.

The motorways were mostly deserted and as much as you were out in the open, you felt safe enough. There were deserted cars for cover, which you'd pick through, and sometimes get lucky in finding a first aid kit or something wearable.

You'd lost your mother and siblings in the chaos of the first days, you hadn't heard from them in months and figured…hoped they'd gotten to safety. You knew deep down that they'd probably died looking for you but it was, and still is, easier to hope.

You'd never been great at maps but you could remember places from how they looked and the road signs were all relatively intact. Unlike the movies with zombies, the government hadn't tried bombing or burning down populated areas. They'd simply taken the rich and important and hid them, stowed them away, and left the regular people to die. At the start there were churches and homeless shelters trying to help; Taking in traveling families and stragglers, trying to at least; especially, in their own cities but all it took in those places was for one infected to get in and they'd all be gone.

You'd tried one for a while, even made a few friends, but you'd barely managed to get out with your own life so you didn't figure anyone else had.

When you found König, him finding you might be more apt but still, you were running low on water. You didn't trust yourself to leave the main roads and since you hadn't come across any running water you didn't have the chance. It was autumn so you'd scavenged blackberries from the bushes on the side of the road and occasionally you'd come across a granola bar in one of the cars but other than that you'd been hungry and tired. Sleeping in cars hadn't done you much good either.

It has been quiet, eerily so. You hadn't come across an infected in at least a few days, which had surprised you but you didn't want to jinx your sudden good luck. Dealing with the infected was hard, at least before him it was. They were often stronger than you, and even if they weren't they were hell bent on ending you. You had managed to get your hands on a hatchet from the back room of a hardware store somewhere along the road.

You were sleeping in the back of an abandoned car before you heard his footsteps. You weren't sure if he'd seen you or not, you hoped not. Most people on the road were desperate, like you, so they were often willing to use whatever force they deemed necessary. Of the bodies on the road, at least the ones you'd come across in the past few days, only a few of them were probably due to being infected, the rest had various stab wounds; while others had arrows sticking out of them- You wondered who had provoked who.

The memories of all the dead you'd passed on the road in the last few days came flooding back. You had thought, at the time, that the chances of the guy who was practically stomping around out there, was probably the guy who killed all of those people; People like you, who were just trying to get from point A, to B. You tried to stay low hoping that he wouldn't see you. you could just about see him in the rear view mirror.

He was tall, like really tall and very built. The bruising on some of the bodies made more sense considering the size of him. You waited until he had disappeared completely from view before you got the courage to open the door.

It opened more quietly than you had expected, much to your appreciation. You pushed forward, essentially following the man. He was slow and gradually more meticulous the further along the road he got. When he had passed you he was just casting fleeting glances around the sea of deserted cars but now he has started peering through the glass and checking under cars. You had managed to stay relatively out of sight or at least you thought you had.

You hid behind a car when he turned back on himself. You hoped he wouldn't see you. He didn't move for a while and then he chuckled deeply. You heard what sounded like the creaking of a slowly deteriorating car as he assumably lowered his weight onto the hood. “I know you're there maus” his accent was heavy but his voice was definitely not what you'd expected. You'd expected deep and gravely. It had only met one of your expectations.

Regardless, his acknowledgement of your presence made your blood run cold. You were already on edge, the lack of food and good sleep had left you in a state of near constant anxiety. You didn't say anything in response hoping that maybe he would just forget about it and leave you alone. ��Come out, kleine maus” his voice was softer this time but he was still a threat.

Maybe if you managed to surprise him ,If you injured him enough then he wouldn't be able to come after you. You settled on making a run for it.

You often wonder if things would be different now, if you had chosen to attack him instead of trying to outrun him. If maybe you would have joined the bodies on the road or even made it to your grandparents.

It ate at you for the first few months with him. You resented him for taking you away from the road, for being nice to you when you treated him with such venom. For keeping you there, at first you had felt like a prisoner, refused to talk to him- look at him; even to eat for the first few days but that didn't last as long as you'd hoped it would.

You'd hated him for months. Despised him so entirely that you couldn't count the number of times you'd considered his death.

You'd attempted to escape a few times only to end up lost in the dark, then thrown over his shoulder the next morning when he'd somehow find you.

You hated it. Hated him for it. Just hated everything. In hindsight it made sense, he was probably just lonely and really, you were too but at the time it felt like hell.

When he brought you back; Originally, you'd kicked and screamed doing no real damage past hurting his ears. You did the same every other time he found you. You both had a routine by your third escape; he would find you curled up under a tree, trying not to freeze to death (after the second time he started putting out wooly clothes, in case you tried to run off again) and then he would carry you back to the house. You'd be locked in the sitting room for about 10 minutes, before he'd open the door and wait for you to walk through it. When you inevitably refused, he would just throw you over his shoulder again.

You would be put down in the bathroom next to a hot bath, which you would refuse on the grounds that you don't want to like him. Despite him being incredibly nice to you (past the kidnapping part) you didn't want to like him. You found out after the first night that he'd give you about an hour; in that hour , you assumed, he hoped you would bathe but when he came back he'd always find you wherever he left you- which for the first few times was the floor but later became a rocking chair.

It was a nice chair, rustic. It looked almost as if it had been hand carved, probably not but maybe. After his failed attempt at a bath he would move onto food.

In between your attempts to run away, you'd begrudgingly accept food. Usually, it would go cold before you would even consider touching it, but it was never too long before you to got sick of ignoring how your stomach growled.

You assume he took note of what you liked eating or at least did his best, because more often than not there were things you liked on your plate. You're not sure how he knew really, if it was how quickly you ate or which order you chose to eat things. He never really said anything, not that you would have responded but still.

Since the last time, you'd been trying to figure it out, racking your brain and trying to remember which way he had walked on the first day. If you ran fast enough you could probably make it back to the road, or you would end up terribly lost and scared and utterly screwed.

You waited until all movement in his room had ceased and then made a break for it. He hadn't taken any of your stuff. You thought that it was because he found you entirely unthreatening or he thought you were too weak to use it- either way it pissed you off. Sure you'd been living on scraps long enough for it to take its toll on your body but you weren't weak. Boney, sure but weak? No.

You managed to get out of the house with ease, as much as you thought he'd kidnapped you; he gave you free range of the house and the garden. It was nice, you could see yourself living there if it wasn't for him.

You make it to the forest and come to the conclusion that it was downright idiotic to try this again. The leaves of the trees made such a thick canopy that they all but separated the sky from ground, so much so that when you made your way into the forest you could barely make out your hand in front of your face.

You ignored the ringing sound in your ears and the way your heartbeat was hammering in your chest . You grip the hatchet you'd found on your trip and venture deeper into the forest. You hadn't heard any howls as of yet, so that was a good sign- it was actually relatively still.

You made your way deeper and deeper. Sinking slowly into the monotonous task of walking and the comfort of silence. You came to what looks to be the center of the forest, you can't remember whether you had come this way when he took you from the motorway.

The bushes behind you rustled and panic seeped into you. You recognised the uneven steps and incoherent muttering almost immediately- infected. You freeze, maybe it wouldn't see you. You thought you only heard one set of shuffling feet. Maybe it wasn't even coming in that direction, maybe you would have gotten away but your luck was never that good.

A scrawny, unkempt man stumbled out from the bushes. You tried to stay completely still but it was no use, he'd either spotted you or heard you earlier. His gaze was trained on you. He was probably about 17 before he got it, he was missing a shoe. It would have been funny if it wasn't for your impending doom.

He'd stopped muttering, the froth around his mouth dropped down his chin as he drooled. The government had tried experimenting on the first hundred-ish infected. The only thing they had determined was that it was similar to rabies. There were some consistent traits, infected wouldn't go near water, you could even hear them screaming whenever it rained. At first it had upset you listening to them wail but it had become a regular occurrence especially since it was autumn then.

It was all good and well knowing that they didn't like water but it did you no use then. You didn't know where the nearest source of water was. You couldn't hear the sound of a stream or anything similar.

The boy hadn't moved the mixture of froth and drool that had collected around his mouth made you feel sick. It was vile, worse to think that he probably had a family or friends that he probably hurt without even knowing. He had a bite mark right above his ankle, on the foot without a shoe.

You wondered how long he'd been wandering around. If maybe he was like you and he just happened to be less lucky than you. Maybe one of them had gotten him from under a car or while he was sleeping.

He took a step forward and you were forced back to the reality of your situation. That you were probably going to die, in the woods alone. You stepped back almost on instinct. He took another step, then another and then broke out into a full on sprint. You did the same, you bolted forward until the shrubbery got too thick and then wrapped around a tree and came back on yourself.

You looked back to find him only a few feet behind you, he was breathing heavily but quiet. You always hated when they got quiet, meant they were focused, determined. He was probably hungry too.

Your foot caught something as you ran and you hit the floor hard. You scrambled back as fast as you could but he was on you before you could even get up.

That was it, you were gonna die in the forest alone. All because you didn't want to accept help from that shockingly, nice kidnapper.

You locked your arms out in hopes you could hold him back but he was heavy and strong and even though you'd been eating again, you hadn't had time to get much weight back on, let alone muscle.

He wasn't focused on your neck specifically, he was searching around for any exposed flesh. Your mind flicked back to the people you'd seen on the road, the few you had figured weren't by the man. They'd all been missing flesh, the infected here were hungry. They definitely weren't fast enough to catch wildlife and these places didn't get much foot traffic.

You heard a branch snap. It was most likely just a deer or something being far smarter than you and leaving the area before it too got itself killed but for whatever reason the movement had caught the boys attention too. He stopped trying to push towards you and instead looked up at the source of the noise.

A large boot crossed your line of vision before it made contact with the boy. It sent him flying back off of you. He didn't even have time to react before a machete was pushed through his chest. The sound of ribs cracking under the strain made you feel sick, the boy tenses and let out a strained sound. The man twisted the knife, another crack but this time he went limp.

You wanted to be sick, wanted to cry, wanted to run but your chest hurt and your legs wouldn't move. The man looked over at you then back at the body in front him

“Sorry Maus.”

You looked back at him entirely dazed- He'd got a mask on. He had never worn a mask around you before. Looked more like a sheet he'd thrown over his head with some stitched eye holes. It's funny, it should make him less intimidating but the fact that he's upwards of 6’6” eliminated any sort of humour in the situation.

You were completely frantic and scared. Tears welled in your eyes, you tried to will them back down but you couldn't. You didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want him to think of you as any weaker than he already did but you couldn't stop them. Overwhelmed was an understatement. You were relieved but still so terrified.

You looked past the wall of a man in front of you and watched the boy's body twitch. He was definitely dead but that didn't make it better. You felt sick, disgusted by the sight of his mangled chest. Plus the adrenaline was leaving your body faster than you would have hoped. It left you aware of how fast your heartbeat was, how much your arms hurt from having to hold him back and a dull throbbing in your wrist.

He retracted his hand and made his way over to a log. He sat facing you, you couldn't make out his eyes under the mask, you didn't even know what colour they were.

He didn't say anything, just watched you. He didn't speak; didn't make any more moves towards you- just sat there and watched. It was weird but you felt safer having him there. Maybe it was because he'd saved your life or because it was in his interest just as much as yours to kill the infected on sight but it was still a comfort.

You eventually pulled yourself up from the floor, you did your best to avoid putting pressure on your wrist. With the last of the adrenaline having worn off, the dull ache had morphed into shooting pains.

He watched you get up, probably watched how your legs trembled slightly. “Nobody's keeping you here Maus” His voice was soft, nice and somewhat familiar. He didn't talk much, at least not to you, but he'd mutter around the house or humm songs in what you assumed was German.

You immediately started off walking in a direction you hoped was the motorway but there was no way to tell.The forest was thick and it was dark and there could be more infected; not to mention the state of your wrist. It wasn't going to be much use to you if it was broken. You barely made it out of the clearing before you stopped and turned to look at the man still on the log.

He cocked his head to one side and examined you. You had supported your damaged wrist with the other arm and lifted it to dull the throbbing, at least a little. Not that it had helped much but still you had tried.

“You're hurt?” He sounded almost amused by it. That had annoyed you, how was any of this funny? You had almost died and he was amused by it or maybe it was the crying- either way it pissed you off to no end.

You moved to flip him off but it sent waves of pain up your arm. Maybe it was broken. He watches you wince and lets out an amused huff.

“So yes?” he still sounded the same, slightly softer after watching you wince but still. You bet he had a stupid smirk on his face.

“Why the mask?” It's the first thing you had said to him since you met. It seemed to shock him. He took a while to answer you.

“Military. Used to be part of my uniform.” It didn't really explain much past the sheer size of him. Actually it didn't explain anything at all. He wasn't still in the military since it didn't exist anymore and you had absolutely no context to why he put on the mask in the first place. You nodded regardless.

You weren't really sure what you wanted. If you wanted to go back to the house where you knew it was at least safe or if you wanted to run. Ok you did know, you had wanted to run but that feeling of safety he had, unfortunately, presented you with made you want to stay. You hadn't felt truly safe in months and it was nice, even if you didn't want the source of safety to be him.

“What are you doing, Maus?” It was as if he could tell what you were thinking. Maybe he could.

“What?” You responded quickly. Pretending to be confused by the vague question.

“You wanted to leave, no? This is your chance. Leave.” he sounded a little flat, there was always something to his voice when he spoke, some sort of emotion but it was gone. “Nobody is going to stop you Maus.”

You're not sure why but it upset you, that he was suddenly so flat. “What happens if I stay?”

His head fell to the side. “Change of heart?”

You nodded. Really you just wanted to not be attacked. You didn't exactly enjoy life on the road, not that you enjoyed life with him any more but at least you didn't have to deal with the stresses of the road if you stayed.

“So I don't have to carry you back?” He chuckled and you just nodded again. It had become part of your ritual, a part that you didn't want to admit you enjoyed but it was fun to see him lift you with such ease.

Still, it wouldn't have made sense to make him carry you back after you agreed not to run off. “No.” You nodded and got up from the log, you kept your arm in your clutches, it still throbbed.

The walk back was entirely silent. You kept your eyes trained on the floor and he walked slightly ahead of you. You weren't sure why at the time but you had appreciated it.

When you got back, he fell right back into his old routines. You found yourself back in the living room, although this time when he had gone to lock the door he paused and simply left instead. You considered following him, watching him draw the bath but you decided against it. You weren't sure why you wanted to be around him, maybe it was the whole saving your life thing or maybe it was because he was sweet. Not that you would ever admit it.

He came back right on time, around ten minutes and stood at the door waiting for you. You stared back at him, you didn't really know how you wanted to play this. He wasn't keeping you here, so you didn't want to be inconvenient but you still didn't like him. Not that you had as much of a reason to but regardless it didn't change how you felt about him.

He stared back for a while before he sighed and pushed himself up off of the door frame. You looked back down at your feet and then stood up. You heard his footsteps stop as you got up, he waited for you to look up at him before turning and waking off.

He looked back after a moment to check that you had followed him, you had. He still had his mask on, you were so curious about it. Once he escorted you to the bathroom he paused at the door.

“Let me check your arm.” He held his hand out waiting for you to present him with the wrist that was still throbbing.

You looked at him skeptical before you offered your wrist, you flinched when he ran his fingers over it. After a few moments of examination he lets go.

“I don't think it's broken, and if it is, it's a fracture. I'll put it in a sling later. Just try not to bash it on anything.” He sighed and started to leave.

“I'll be back in-” he started looking back at you as he said it.

“Yeah, 1 hour. I know.” you cut him off. You expected him to be annoyed by this but he wasn't. You could see his eyes crinkle up and he made an exaggerated exhale sound, one that could be mistaken for a laugh.

“Clean yourself up, Maus.” his tone was lower,softer. He sounded quite nice really. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back down the stairs. For such a large man he was rather quiet.

You looked around the familiar room; at the bath tub which was filled with hot water and what looked and smelled like rosemary; at the chair in the corner which had a folded up towel resting on the seat; at the door that barracked you from the rest of the house; at the walls that separated you from the outside- from them.

The thoughts came flooding back to you and you shuddered, thinking about what could and would definitely have happened if…you still didn't know his name. He had a whole nickname for you and you didn't know his name. You felt a little ashamed by that.

You shook your head and tried to remind yourself that you didn't care about him even if he was really nice to you and clearly cared, at least a little for you.

Your muscles ached and you would be lying if you said a bath didn't sound good but you were still reluctant to be so vulnerable in such an unfamiliar place. He did say you had one hour and you knew you had one hour. Reluctantly, you started to pull off your shoes.

Who would it hurt? You were already in pain and if he had wanted anything like that he would have done it already. There was no point stressing, it wasn't going to help anyone, least of all you and you really wanted to not be in total discomfort. Especially not with the sharp pain in your arm.

Eventually, you had pulled off all but your underwear. Folded all of your clothes in a pile next to the tub. Only now had you realised just how dirty they were, how dirty you were. You dreaded having to put those back on but that was a problem for later. For now you wanted to enjoy warm water and an actually nice smell.

You looked back at the door once more, still a little paranoid that he would burst in and find you like this. All of those thoughts went away when you lowered your foot into the water. You hadn't had hot water since everything had gone to shit.

You put the other foot in and then lowered yourself into the water. You sighed audibly as the warm water enveloped your aching body. It was nice, you felt lighter even if the smell wasn't doing anything to help your pounding head.

You sat back, resting your back against the edge of the back and spreading out. Letting the warm water soothe your body. Gradually, you relaxed more and more. If you weren't so paranoid about a six foot ten man in a mask storming in on you, you would have stayed there forever.

You didn't let yourself relax for too long since your mind had drifted back to the boy, so you busied yourself with washing all of the dirt from your skin. You watched the water gradually go from clear to a milky brown, as you scrubbed the dirt from the skin and hair. It felt nice to be clean and to smell of something other than sweat. You looked up at the ceiling and tried to figure out how long you'd been in the water. It must have been coming up to an hour now.

If you listened really carefully you could hear him pattering about in the kitchen. You managed to pull yourself out of the embrace of the slowly cooling water when you heard the pattering switch to slow footsteps up the stairs. When he reached the door he knocked, you panicked even though you had already wrapped yourself in the towel he had left on the chair.

He opened the door a crack, clearly waiting for some indicator that you weren't still nude or in the bath.

“Maus?” He seemed unsure. Whatever semblance of confidence he had, had left his tone.

“I'm decent.” you assured him. You heard him puff out a little sigh of relief at that and he opened the door the rest of the way. He was holding a roll of bandages.

“You bathed.” he seemed both shocked and entirely unsurprised. You just nodded and looked down at your feet and the gradually expanding pool of water around them.

“I've got the sling.” He laughed at himself. “It's not a sling yet but-” He trailed off and looked down.

“I can do it later if you want Maus.” You shook your head and let him sling your arm, his hands felt warm on your skin and the fabric clung to the water still dripping from your hair. It wasn't so bad though, since some of the pressure on your arm was finally gone.

Your eyes drifted to the pile of clothes you had stacked by the bath. You really didn't want to have to put muddy clothes back on your finally clean body. His gaze followed yours to the pile of grimy clothes you had stacked by the bath.

“Come Maus.” This time he didn't look back to see if you were following. You hesitated for a moment, before you grabbed your clothes and scrambled to catch up with him. You weren't unfamiliar with the house. You had been there for a while, but now you were actually walking around it: One, when you could see and two, not while being flung over his shoulder.

It was nice, quaint. You had mostly envisioned living in a place like this when you were a kid. It was small and the floors were rickety, even crooked in some places, but it was nice. The walls, at least in this hallway, were a muted green and at the top of the stairs there was a table with a pot of flowers and a small book with a pen lying next to it.

He led you to the room in the corner. The one he had stowed you in, in the first few days. Originally, you had felt trapped but it was nice to walk around and actually take in the place.

He stopped at the door and waited for you to go in, then nodded towards the clothes he must have folded and placed on the bed.

You had previously refused to take in the room, but now that you were looking at it, it was nice. The walls were a pale violet and all of the wood in the room was light (birch maybe?); it was bright and airy, despite the fact that it was probably the early hours of the morning at this point.

You jumped when he shut the door. You heard him walk back down the stairs and figured it was probably time you stopped standing around in just a towel. He had left you another wooly jumper and a pair of baggy jeans, which were slighting too big on your waist, but you could definitely sort them out with a needle and thread.

You pulled your socks on before admiring the room for a little longer. There was a flower on the windowsill, you had never been good at flowers, but you were pretty sure it was a lily. On the wall to the left of the bed was a fireplace, it wasn't lit, but it was still warm from the fire he had built the night before for you.

You eventually made your way down the stairs, your steps never sounded quite as heavy as his. You placed that more down to the worn converse you had on, in comparison to his heavy combat boots. You could hear him humming in the kitchen, so you followed the sound and found him, slightly hunched, over the stove.

It was a little funny watching him in the kitchen, the ceilings were just high enough for him to stand up straight, but there were wooden beams running across the room in almost all of the rooms, so he had to hunch a lot. You wondered if he ever forgot and hit his head.

He turned his head when you hovered in the doorway. The mask lay next to him on the counter and he smiled when you met his eyes.

He hadn't said much of anything really, but he did nod towards a glass of water on the counter, which you reluctantly drank. You tried to look around him to see what he was cooking, but there was simply too much of him.

Instead, you retreated to the rustic looking table in the corner of the room. There were more plants in there than you had expected;it probably shouldn't have shocked you, because what better had he got to do than tend to plants?The world had literally ended.

You had thought about raiding a few bookstores, but you had never gotten around to it. You thought carrying books up the motorway would be a waste of valuable space and hell on your shoulders, but maybe if you were going to stay here you could get some? Who would it hurt? Not the already dead economy; definitely not the probably dead authors. That's if you were going to stay here. You had come back so you would have thought that meant- yes you were staying but were you really willing to stay with the man that had kidnapped you? Even if he wasn't still keeping you here.

On the other hand, it would be really nice to not have to worry about the world, or what would happen if you ever did make it up to your grandparents and they weren't there or they weren't alive or they had…Yeah, you would rather not think about that part.

It was times like these that you wished you had your mum, you hoped she was okay. That she had gotten somewhere safe and she had managed to stay with your siblings. You can't imagine she dealt well losing one child, losing more would probably break her.

You looked up to find him looking at you. You didn't entirely know what to do with that so you just stayed where you were and just looked into the water you were drinking. He turned back round when you didn't meet his eyes.

Whatever he was cooking didn't take long once you were downstairs, so you sat in a somewhat awkward silence for around 10 minutes before a bowl was placed in front of you.

You weren't exactly sure what it was, soup of some kind?. It smelt nice enough but you were still wary of it. It's not like you hadn't already been taking food from a stranger, but that was different. You needed that considering how long it had been since you had eaten real food and not just berries on the road.

Regardless, it felt different now, you pushed your spoon around the bowl and watched the vegetables move through the broth. It even looked like there was meat in there. It made sense, to you at least, you had assumed a man like him would know how to hunt.

He studied you for a moment, before leaning back against the counter and eating his own portion. You figured that was a good enough sign that he wasn't trying to kill you. You didn't really know why he didn't sit down at the table with you, maybe he was trying to make you less uncomfortable, maybe he also didn't like you. That thought bothered you a little, it's not like you should care because you didn't like him but what had you done to make him dislike you? Why did you even care that he might dislike you?

You decided to drown out your thoughts with soup- it was nice. Nothing particularly special but it was nice, you wondered if he likes cooking or if it was just a necessity for him. You didn't think you would mind picking up chores like that, if you did stay that is.

You took almost twice the time he did to finish your food. Especially since you spent most of the time pushing it around the bowl; it was mostly cold by the time you had finished, but you could feel his gaze on you and looking up felt like an unachievable task.

When you finally managed to look away from your empty bowl he smiled. “You look tired Maus.” He sounded sweet, almost concerned.

“Well I didn't get much sleep with my planning to escape and all.” Your response came out a little more dry and snappy than you had intended.

His face morphed into a frown at your response. “Maybe you should sleep then.” This time his tone matched yours. “You know where your room is.”

You felt a little bad, but you made your way upstairs anyway. You had no clue what brought on you being so rude in that moment. Maybe you were tired. You pulled the door, to what he had called your room shut, and got into bed. It was near dawn, but it was dark enough to sleep or at least to try. The bed was comfortable, a little dusty but it was nice, far better then the car seats you had been sleeping on prior to meeting him, you still didn't ask his name. Could you even now? Without it being awkward. Maybe? It's not like he knew your name either but he has been calling you Maus and you were okay with that.

You weren't sure when you drifted off, but now you wished you hadn't. You were back in the forest, you could hear the same shuffling from earlier, that poor boy's incessant muttering. You had tried to run but he was faster this time, on top of you in seconds. You stumbled, both of you hitting the floor hard and before you had time to react, he was pinning you down. The vile mix of froth and drool hanging from his mouth.

You screamed and thrashed, trying desperately to get out of his grasp or put some form of distance between the two of you- but it was no use.

Your eyes stung with tears and a sob tore through you, your wrist started to hurt again. The ache started morphing back to sharp pains. The boy shook you…the boy shook you? You slowly came back to reality, to the pale violet of the walls, to the dusty smell of the room, to the two warm hands that cupped your cheeks.

“Maus?” The man looked down at you, the concern he was feeling evident on his face.

You take a few deep breaths and then realise that he's touching you. You rip yourself away from him, as comforting as it was, you didn't want to like him. You did have to admit that it was comforting, but still you didn't want to get attached to someone and you definitely didn't want that someone to be him.

He seemed a little hurt but let you distance yourself from him.

“He can't hurt you, Maus.” You know he was just trying to comfort you but you also knew that the dead kid in the woods wasn't going to start walking again, and something about the fact that he felt the need to point it out annoyed you. Maybe it was that you were tired, you would have liked a good night's sleep or maybe it was just because you didn't want to accept that he was really nice.

“I know.” The words once again came out more snappy than you had intended. Maybe it was your lack of human contact prior to meeting him; you had never considered yourself to be one for holding grudges, but maybe it was because he kidnapped you.

He sighed and stood up from the bed. “I'll let you be Maus.”

“Um-” You immediately regretted opening your mouth. “What do I call you?”

The corners of his mouth curled into a slight smirk. “König.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he made his way to the door.

You hadn't heard a name like that before, when he reached the door you were suddenly struck with panic at the thought of his absence.

“Stay.” Your voice came out slightly strained and higher at the end, almost making it seem like a question. “Just until I-” Your cheeks had definitely flushed. “In case I-” You were embarrassed,you sounded like a child asking for a night light, but this was rational, right? It made sense to want someone there.

The smirk on his face morphed into a small genuine smile, as we walked over to a chair in the corner of the room. It was a bit worn but went shockingly well with the room. The chair groaned under his weight when he sat down.

You would be uncomfortable having his gaze on you if your eyes weren't so heavy. It was a struggle to keep them open. “König, is it German?” Your voice comes out quieter than expected, but he hears anyway. Despite your heavy lids you saw the nod he gave you.

“Are you German?” You muttered again, fighting off the need to sleep and taking advantage of your hazy mood.

“Austrian” he responded in the same soft tone.

By this point you had stopped trying to keep your eyes open. “Like Hitler.” your voice was heavy with sleep and you could hear your words starting to slur slightly.

He chucked at that, it was a nice sound. You heard the chair creak as he moved. “Yeah, I guess.”

You eventually managed to fall asleep, you weren't sure for how long, but when you eventually got up there was a warm stream of sunlight hitting your face. You weren't sure of the time, but you couldn't hear birds like you could in the early morning and when you looked over to the chair, König was gone. You could, however, hear grunts coming from somewhere beneath your window and the sound of metal hitting wood? You thought it was anyway.

You made your way over to the window, partly because it meant you got to enjoy the sun on your face for a while longer but also to investigate the noise. The room you were in backed out into the cottage's overgrown garden. Considering the size of the house the garden was quite big, although most of it now had been turned into space for crops there were still patches of unruly grass lining the areas of tilled dirt and the greenhouse that sat in one corner, near the hedge lining the back.

In the opposite corner was König, next to him were two piles of wood, one looked to be what he would use for fires and such and the other like the lumber he clearly intended to cut; He used a large tree stump as a surface to cut the wood.

You glanced around your room, the wardrobe caught your eye. It was nice, dusty for sure but nice. It had carved flower details on each panel of the door and a mirror on each side separating the panels. It didn't look like it had been opened in…well ever.

Much to your shock when you opened it, there was a small selection of clothes. You figured he must have scavenged clothes of all sizes ,but the ones in here seemed nice. There were a few pairs of jeans, more of those wooly jumpers he would put you in and some plain t-shirts. Folded up in the very back was a dress, it was sage green and had small embroidered flowers. It looked a little big for you -at least on the bust- but if he would let you, you'd take it in.

You held the dress up to your body, you even shut the doors so you could look at it against your form. You smiled at your reflection, it was a pretty dress and it suited you quite well.

As much as you wanted to wear it, you decided against it. Instead, you took one of the t-shirts and a pair of jeans before you folded the dress and placed it back in the wardrobe. It belonged on a hanger but they were none in there so delicate folding would have to do for the time being. Regardless, you had no intention of letting it gather dust in there.

You wondered if you would be about to find fabric in some of the looted stores, you had always had an interest in sewing and the idea of creating your own clothes brought a smile to your face- Something particularly rare since the outbreak.

You glanced back out the window and let your eyes fall on König as he brought down the axe on another piece of wood and finally made your way down the stairs and into the garden.

The sunlight felt just as nice, as it had through the window and the light breeze was equally pleasant.

König looked up when you walked into the garden. “Maus” he greeted you and placed the axe against the tree stump. He had worked up quite a sweat, which made sense;His sleeves rolled up and his breathing heavy from the activity.

“Good morning.” You had to look away because of how you felt your cheeks heat up. You had absolutely no idea what was happening, you hated him. He had essentially kidnapped you, so what if he had nice arms and his voice made you smile? So what if he was nice to you and had given you your freedom; not that you were sure he ever really took it away now. He still did it. Technically.

You looked up at the sun and figured it was probably late morning. Your days on the road had made it easier to judge, since after dusk you would have to take shelter in cars to avoid the sick.

“Do you do that often?” You cringed realising how much that sounded like a shitty pickup line.

He clearly picked up on that too because when he looked up from the stump he was smirking. “Gonna offer to buy me a drink too, Maus?” He teased. “I was running low.” He chuckled and picked the axe back up before looking at you again.

“Why don't you try, Maus? I'm sure it will make it more fun, at least for me.” He smiles and hands you the axe. “Know what you're doing?”

You nodded, even though in truth you didn't and having only one usable arm would probably make it harder. You hoped that what you had watched from the window would be enough to not have you make a complete fool of yourself. König set a log on the stump for you and then took a step back.

You gave him a nervous smile as you lifted the axe and then brought it down onto the piece of wood. The wood barely splintered but it was enough for the edge to go in. He snickered to himself while he watched you attempt to get the tool out; or the rest of the way through the timber.

“You can't laugh!” You complained. “You're ruining my performance!” You hadn't really noticed, but you were grinning too. You gave the wood a few more bashes before dramatically tossing it down.

You looked at him for a moment, trying to keep a straight face before the two of you burst out laughing.

“I did a great job! How dare you.” You spoke between fits of laughter. “Plus I'm down a hand!” You gesture to the sling before you cast your eyes back to the unchopped wood. “It was just really strong wood.” You tried to say it as seriously as you could, but it only made the two of you laugh harder.

“Thought you would be better with an axe” He nodded towards a bench at the back of the garden. Not too far from where he was. “Geh und setz dich.” When you tilted your head in confusion he smiled and translated for you. “Go sit, Maus.”

“You keep calling me Maus.” You weren't really sure if it was a question or if you were simply stating the obvious to him. In all honesty you were a little curious but maybe it was better not to know. “It sounds like mouse.” Yeah, definitely just pointing out the obvious.

“That's because it means mouse.” He chuckled again and if you were looking at him he would definitely still be grinning.

“You've been calling me a mouse the whole time?! Why?” You weren't sure why it shocked you but then again it wasn't exactly a common nickname.

“Because you're small, and cute, like a mouse.” He said it like it was obvious, you felt heat rise to your cheeks but that was just embarrassment- obviously.

“I'm like average height, you're just the size of a small house.” he let out an amused breath.

“Whatever you say, schatz.” the smile still hasn't fallen from his face, when he brought the axe down on another piece of wood. You gazed around the garden, it was pretty and very organised. You looked over the rows of crops, you couldn't imagine a guy like him gardening. Nurturing little seeds and shoots, but needs must right?

You got a little lost in your thoughts and the rhythm of him bringing the axe down onto the pieces of wood; You barely even caught yourself staring.

Why were you staring? It's not like you had never seen a man before. Technically, never that much man but still. He was just a guy, a 6’ft something guy that looked like he could snap a person in half but just a big guy.

He didn't seem to notice anyway, not that it stopped you from feeling embarrassed. You spent most of your time around him for the past few hours in some state of flushed. Which made no sense because you were still mad at him right? It only made sense to be. Even if he was sweet you were supposed to be upset.

You looked at the man you regarded as your captor. You didn't feel like that anymore. It was like if you really wanted to leave you could, probably could have in the beginning. He was sweet if nothing else, he was even willing to sit with you while you fell asleep ; You wondered how long he sat there for before he left. If he got up the minute you drifted off or if he waited.

God you were being such an idiot. It was definitely just because you had been alone for so long- Nothing more, just enjoying human interaction after so long.

You jumped when he brought the axe down on the wood again. You looked between him and the growing pile.

“Surely that's enough.” He nods in response.

“Probably.” He brings the axe down on another chunk of wood. “But I don't like doing this so it's easier to get a stockpile.”

“How long have you been here?” Considering the crops it must have been a while right? That would make sense at least, maybe it was a holiday home? Or he just moved here when things got bad because it was secluded.

“Found it.” He looked down at the wood, and his voice was quieter than before. “When I found it there were two-” He sighed.

“A couple lived here, when I got here they were already sick… I think the wife got it first, she was worse off.” He looked back up but didn't make eye contact. “They attacked, probably half starved and- well”

You got the rest, you kinda got the rest the minute he started talking. That explained the dresses in the wardrobe, the pretty furniture and probably the garden too.

After a while, you broke the silence. “Did the military know anything about it?” In asking, you failed to change the subject and lighten the mood but you were curious. You couldn't help it.

“Higher ups said it was like rabies, but they didn't tell us much more than shoot on sight. Not a lot else really” He seemed so nonchalant about it.

You knew that much, that much was on the news; then the radio when the TVs went down. The government knew it was like rabies and that you couldn't get bit, or swap any sort of fluids.

Regardless, it all happened so fast, since it was quite slow acting and nobody really showed signs;Until most people had it and by that time it was too late to think about a cure or a vaccine. Last you heard the government, or what was left of it, wasn't even trying to make a cure or a vaccine. They had simply hidden out in some ‘safe city', but that hadn't really shocked you either.

“Did you have to do that a lot? Shoot on sight?” He nodded in response and started piling the chopped wood back into the little storage shed in the garden, presumably to keep it dry.

When he got to the last few pieces, he picked them up and put them under his arm before making his way towards the house.

“You coming Maus?” You nodded and followed behind him, pulling the door shut after you. He placed the wood down in a basket and then went to the kitchen.

Lunch was cold soup, because he said he didn't want to start a fire this early in the day.You didn't particularly mind even if it was better when it was warm like yesterday.

The rest of the day was very uneventful, König went back into the garden and you sat with him. Mostly in silence, since you had run out of conversation topics and he was focused on the garden. Shockingly, more focused than he had been while he was working with the axe.

Over the next few weeks, you picked up the routine, it was rare that you would have breakfast; and lunch was always whatever had been cooked the night before. König would hunt every other Thursday- mainly hare. You went with him a few times, eager to spread the chores more. Only because you were going to stay, or at least until your arm healed then you might get back on the road.

So far you have volunteered for collecting and boiling rain water as well as cooking. Originally, you had offered to help garden (or hunt) but with one functional arm you weren't particularly good at either of those. The other problem with hunting being that you didn't really like guns or killing the animals.

So instead of hunting when he went out, you would forage somewhere nearby so he could keep an eye on you. He never put it like that but you knew that was why. It wasn't like you wanted to go far anyway, for fear of another run in with a wanderer.

It had been working well, the both of you appreciated the company and spreading the workload seemed to be helping König too. He looked less tired than he did before, you can't say he got any softer because he was always smiles when you were around but he did have more energy.

Obviously you did too, since you were finally able to eat more than scavenged granola bars, you were doing better too. The protein was helping your arm heal too and you couldn't deny how nice it was to have someone around to talk to.

Before you even really knew it, you had been with him a few months and your arm had almost completely healed. It was weaker than the other one and sometimes a bit achy but overall it was better and you were happy. The thought of leaving now was silly, why would you? To go up to your grandparents and probably find them dead? There was no appeal to it anymore, you had already lost enough people and the idea of potentially losing more was not something you really wanted to dwell on.

So it seemed like you were staying; regardless, you had become a functioning member of the house. You had jobs, jobs that weren't just to stay alive and not get lost.

So you decide you will stay because it's smarter, and that's easier to admit than staying because you're happy. Plus you just so happen to like the guy that ‘kidnapped’ you.

#apocalypse #konig cod #konig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #konig x reader #slow burn #cod men

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