#freaky shit in the sky

[magnusthepuppet]

fuck you elon musk. i legit thought i was going to die from aliens sticking probes up my ass because of your dumb fucking satellites.

I FEARED FOR MY LIFE, ELON, DO YOU UNDERSTAND—

[vifilms]

THEY CALL ME HOMEWRECKER

pairing. established!cait x reader ft. older!vi

content warning. eighteen+, some freaky toxic shit, caitlyn lowkey a bad girlfriend, reader a freak, and violet’s just there for a good time, ooc!vi mostly, strap!sex, threesome, jealousy, cheating, some good ‘ole drama, public!sex, slight voyeurism if you squint.

#thank u to my boo @sinstear for helping me facilitate this madness and giving me even more ideas for it. and for @shouyuus for always supporting my gay panicking. still crying about it. as always, eighteen+.

since the two of you were struggling financially, you’ve always stuck by caitlyn’s side. throughout all of her business endeavors, one finally stuck, the restaurant on avenue street, and god is it ever so booming. weeks of hectic hours turn into months of hardly seeing her due to her schedule always being on the flipside of hers.

all of it was so excruciating.

over the past few months, the cracks of your relationship fall over like a tsunami waves, crashing repeatedly into the shore. you try to talk about it with her — the two days out of the week when you actually see her — but she’s always too tired.

too this.

too that.

nothing you do is ever enough. it doesn’t matter if you set the mood just right, candles light with rose petals on the bed, buying a new lingerie set to attempt to peak your girlfriend’s interest.

“baby, it’s been months since we’ve had sex? do you just not want me anymore? caitlyn reassure you she does but makes no move to give you the relief you’re so desperately seeking. deadly kisses turn stale in your mouth, the bitterness of her stagnant need tastes like the dark chocolate on your tongue.

“just—“ caitlyn grunts as she gently shoves you off as her back turn away from you “not tonight.”

you’re so close to cry, to calling this relationship for what is, a colossal failure. deciding to cool down before offering her the proposition, the one you’ve been thinking about for a while now. no matter what you do, you love cait too much to call it quits. you have to fight for who you love, no matter the cost. this is the only choice you can make…right?

droplets kiss your skin, an oversized shirt hits your thighs as your feet pad away from the cool tile, the dampness of your hair touches the cotton as she looks at you, exhaustion written all over her gorgeous face.

“what if we opened this up? let someone…in.”

shyly, you mumble. and you expect some lewd response, anger, a finality to the end but you’re met with relief. “i think that’s a great idea, love.”

but caitlyn would live to regret those words. “just one night with someone else.”

the both of you agree.

all of it happened organically, that’s what you were her for. caitlyn was close and made sure not to hover. the stipulation being the two of you had to be attracted to whoever came home with the two of you. it’s when you spot her, checking you out from the other side of the bar.

“hi, cupcake.” her voice is sultry but her rasp velvet smooth.

“o-oh, u-um, hi—” you readjust shirt, the swell of your breasts threatening to spill from the tight top you’re wearing. she’s the hottest woman you’ve ever seen. soft lines on her face to resemble her age, but fuck, she’s so pretty.

powder-blue eyes resembling the sky as she checks you out from head to toe, unable to keep her eyes off of you. she can’t stop looking at you as you squirm underneath her blunt gaze.

“who’s the blue haired woman behind you? girlfriend? she looks like she wants to kill me for getting so close to you.” with a fierce sense of confidence running through her veins, she plays with the pretty silver chain hanging from your neck.

“she is my girlfriend but we have an understanding.” the nerves from your initial impression of her dissipate, as you step closer to her. “we’re on the hunt for someone to fuck our brains out, especially mine it’s been a little too long.”

"how long?"

the curoisty slips out before she can help herself, eyes falling back on your tits again again as you cross your arms over your chest, tongue running over your lips as the tattoo peeking out from her the underside of her neck.

“long enough.”

but caitlyn interjects, slithering her way as she immediately starts caressing the mystery woman’s forearm. it’s difficult to pretend there isn’t a sting in your chest when she so easily touches someone else without a second thought.

it isn’t fair, that’s all you’ve wanted, an ounce of her affection but it seems it just takes a certain kind of woman to get her going. on that doesn’t love her the way you do, one that’s hotter, sexier, and definitely has more experience than you.

caitlyn is all over her, all night. vi, as you’ve come to learn, is much older than you and cait, more successful than you could ever dream of, and she damn sure knows how to sweet talk. you can’t help but feel a little left out as you sip on your martini, courtesy of vi.

excusing yourself to freshen up, not that you believe either of them would notice, you wash your hands, splash some water on your cold face to calm yourself. it’s crystal clear, she always wanted to have sex, just never with you.

there she stands, proud and tall, with hope in her eyes like she’s found the missing piece of her puzzle. “so, she’s perfect, right? i mean we really hit it off. the both of us, right?”

you nod, “yeah, sounds perfect, cait.” but she’s too fucking horny too nice the clip to her name or the bitterness in your tone. she’ll have her fill and you’ll be stuck on the sidelines, again. she’ll do anything but acknowledge this relationship for the farce it is.

you should have known, all the signs right in front of you to see, and now it all it took a pink-haired goddess to show you the light. she’ll get her pussy wet for anyone who isn’t you.

“great! i’ll tell her. i’m so glad we decided to do this, love.”

love.

the irony of her burning affection nearly causes you to throw up.

still, you’re incessantly scrubbing at your hands, the skin feels raw, the top of your fingers wrinkling like prunes. the last thing you want to do is meet them out there. the gorgeously, very-fuckable stranger who your girlfriend can’t get enough of. you should have just done the right thing, put the relationship to bed along with the rest of your dignity. now you’d have to watch who you thought was the love of your life, get off right in front of you.

then she’s here. vi. with her beautiful face, her cologne that smells of vanilla and mahogany, her perfectly fit body, making you feel more insecure than you’ve ever been.

“you alright, princess? if you have second thoughts just say the word…”

“nope.”

with a violent urgency, you keep scrubbing the soap into your absolutely clean hands, bending over the counter slightly to rinse them when you feel her behind you, gripping at your hips. she reaches over to shut the water off, handing you a few paper towels to dry your hands.

what the fuck is she playing at? why isn’t she sucking caitlyn’s face off?

“i have something else in mind—” vi leans over as her hot breath kisses your ear, “and it has to do with this pretty, little skirt on the floor.”

“oh, vi, we should really go and meet caitlyn, she—” but you can’t talk, not when she starts stroking the silky skin of your thigh, pushing the hem of your skirt up just a hair.

“you sure about that?” vi crawls her playful hand underneath the hem, playing with the panties covering your cunt, teasing your slit through the delicate lace. “i had my eyes set on something i want to try first.”

“o-oh…kay, well, it’s really not the best idea. please, can we—"

“so you really want to princess? something tells me, you’re dying to have this pussy eaten, fucked….stretched. i have a perfect hot pink cock for you to get fucked with, a mouth to please you, and a good set of fingers for you to bounce on.”

before you realize what’s she’s doing, her heavenly hands dip inside your panties, splitting your folds like the red sea; as god intended. she groans in your ear when she not only feels, but hears how soaked you’ve become, hot breath setting your body aflame.

“how does that sound, princess? want me to take care of you?” you grind against her pelvis, back arching into her as she slips a lone finger inside you. you moan so high, it nearly sounds like a scream.

“mmm, shit, ahhh, that’s—”

becoming very aware of the public setting, anyone could walk in the door at any given moment, you try to refute but you’re struggling to find the words, as she curls her finger inside you, establishing a steady pace.

“what? don’t think of caitlyn now. she certainly didn’t care before, did she? let me guess…she left you and your vibrator to your own device, pressing on that pretty clit of yours, hoping she’d jump in but she couldn’t.

“she couldn’t do what needs to be done—” vi bites and sucks at your neck, you crane your body towards her in submission, giving the older woman all the access she needs to tear you apart. “but i can give you whatever you fucking want, princess.”

it doesn’t take anything else before you’re attacking the older woman with your lips, her tongue invades your mouth as she surges for dominance, gripping your plump cheeks through the small amount of fabric covering them.

immediately intertwining your finger through her hair as you tug on her roots, as your skirt rides up against almost rising completely as vi pushes you through the first open stall she sees. not giving one flying fuck who hears her.

“needed you first, you know that? couldn’t help myself as soon as i saw you. god, just you wait until tonight.”

you shake your head as she pushes the your skirt to your hip bones, ripping your panties off with one single rip!

“tonight?”

“yes, pretty girl, tonight. m’gonna make her watch while i fuck you on my cock.”

pressing her knee with force in-between your legs, an animalistic moan tumbles out before you could even stop yourself.

“c’mon, ride my thigh, sweet girl. that’s what you want, hm?”

vi’s strength centers you in like gravity, allowing you to slide further up her trousers, your folds fluttering against the friction, allowing the crease of her perfectly-ironed slacks to push against your soaking pussy.

“god, fuck her for not wanting to fuck you. i’ll fuck you all night if you let me.” vi grunts as she watches your body writhe, tits bouncing as chase your high.

“fuuuckkkkk,” you hiccup, so close as she pushes a thumb in your mouth, effectively shutting your mouth for a moment as you suck on the digit. swirling your tongue around her finger, pretending she’s fucking you with a strap instead.

“such a good girl for me.” pulling off with a delectable pop, she presses against your clit, blissful patterns being traced on your bundle of nerves and just with a few strokes you’re done for. falling fast and hard.

“vi, vi, oh fuck, baby, viiii—” a drawl of her name as she abuses the bundle of nerves, the ache for her full attention and freely does vi give it.

you fall into her chest, whimpering as her incessant need to play with your clit does nothing to help you calm down — all she does is rile you up.

fuck, caitlyn.

not a day in your life had you thought of being interested in someone so much older than you, but god you’d never come apart like that. not so quickly and not ever quite as hard. she knew what you liked without uttering a word.

the swipe of her thumb felt like a stroke of god, as if she was one, giving into your mundane pleasure, helping you close in on what seemed like an impossible finish.

this wasn’t part of the deal. shit, you’re so fucked.

“turn around.” you obey.

a pathetic servant willing to get it’s pay.

she slaps your ass once more, a whimper tumbles and vi eats up every second of it.

“how bad do you want my cock, baby?”

“so bad, please.”

“good. you’ll show me…in front of her.”

—

“just like that princess, fuck, you’re so goddamn pretty.”

violet’s hands steady your hips as you ride cait’s cock, the strap stretching you out to the heavens, vi guides you in perfect rhythm. you know you should feel bad, but you can’t stop staring at vi, her perfect eyes gleaming as you moan out her name.

not cait, vi.

“love—” caitlyn’s voice is drown outed when vi is looking at you the way she’s does, the way you’ve been begging your girlfriend too but she only does when there’s someone else giving you what you’ve been desperately craving.

“how does it feel, cupcake?” vi whispers in your ear, “does it feel good when you fuck yourself on her cock?”

without warning, vi slaps your ass as you jolt forward, the silicone cock slipping deeper within you, kissing your cervix as vi keeps her hand on your lower back, guiding your movements.

“f-feels really good, vi.”

vi kisses down your neck, biting at the skin before she presses her scarred lip against your ear.

“i know it does, princess. been wanting this for months, huh? don’t worry about a thing. i’ll take care of you.”

vi smirks as she sees caitlyn stirring with fury, bold pair of blues ignite under the fire of someone else seeing what is so rightfully hers. she hates this, knowing someone else is talking you through it, touching your skin, soft lips kissing the ample skin of your neck.

truthfully, she’s never been a jealous person. as the rises at the break of dawn and sets in the cool evening, caitlyn truly believed she’s the one for you — no one else could dare compete.

it’s caitlyn and you.

but suddenly it doesn’t feel like the two of you against the world.

it’s vi and you, the anxiety bubbling in her stomach feels catastrophic, so she fucks into you, making you squirm with need. but still, you’re so entangled in vi, you don’t even notice her.

the night hadn’t started the way caitlyn planned — or wanted — but she lapped at your cunt as vi instructed her to do so. she’d been vying for an ounce of her attention. truthfully, she’d settle for either one of you, but the two seem to enthralled with one another to even notice her existence.

but fuck, you’re her girlfriend. only hers.

but when you’re close, you ask vi for permission to come. it’s vi’s whose name you scream out when you start falling apart on caitlyn’s cock. it’s vi rubbing your clit, whispering sweet nothing in your ear as you see stars, it’s vi who pulls you into her lap as you cling onto her for dear life, as if caitlyn’s touch feels poisonous.

nothing makes sense.

when caitlyn thinks for a moment, she’ll get an ounce of attention, vi handcuffs her to the chair across the bed.

“what are you doing?” dark blue eyebrows furrow as her, eye squinting harshly.

“you’ll get your turn, be patient.” vi scolds, but she has no intention on following through on her promise. this is to make a mockery her, to show her exactly what’s she been missing.

in the full nude, she walks over to the night stand, grabbing the harness, and makes sure everything is just right for you — the hot pink dildo protrudes, just as she promised. the pink bush she’s sporting matches deliciously as her happy trail follows up her lower abdomen.

caitlyn wants to curse at the wind when you immediately fall in obedience, commands fly off vi’s tongue and you adhere to her wishes. the first has your mouth wrapping around her pink cock, she gently thrusts, lubricating the plastic with your tongue. your hands twisting vi’s pierced nipples, playing with the silver barbell, taking pride and joy when her breath hitches.

“lay on your back for me, yeah?” vi doesn’t waste another beat.

with reckless intent, she slides in, every inch of her saturated in your warmth. you waste no time, fingers woven through her hair like a thread through embroidery. her pink hair becomes nothing more than a leash for you tug on, each powerful thrust to much, too soon — but you also are too terrified to let go.

"take it, princess. just like that—" violet pushes deep, clinging to her broad back, scratches made in tandem when she delivers a brutal pace. "tell her how much you love my cock."

there she sits, jaw slack, mouth open so wide she could catch flies.

vi can't tell if you she's crying and part of her almost feels bed until desperate pleas of her name fall from sanctioned lips. violet smirks as she looks back at caitlyn, waiting for the inevitable moment of her crumble.

there's only so much one girl could take and violet knew she had to be hitting her limit. soft please of, babygirl, falls on ears that only hears vi's instruction. deviously, violet smirks as she watches caitlyn realizes exactly what as going on.

but it's too late.

you're already far out her grip as your grip onto violet for dear life as you come apart on her cock, moaning louder than caitlyn's ever heard.

you're never loud, even when the two of you did have sex, it's always been quiet.

sweet. soft.

nothing about this is tender as your squirt all over her bed sheet, effectively sending violet over the edge from watching you come, fucking you harder as you moan into her neck, sharp teeth sinking into her collarbones.

to sink the final dagger in her heart, you initate violet's lips locking in yours, a smashing of desire reaches it's fateful end. caitlyn watches as you lose yourself in someone else, someone older, wiser — her stomach churns as she desperately tries to break free of the restraints.

she's been made a fool of, a mere mockery just for wanting to try something you suggested. but the jealousy falls around her, she's not strong enough to watch you enjoy getting your brains fucked by someone who has everything.

for the first time in her life, she feels you slipping through her fingers.

"would you stop touching her? this is over. we're done with you, vi. she's my girlfriend, get off her." bitterly, caitlyn sneers.

"oh, she does?"

with a roll of her strong hips, vi thrusts deep into your pussy, you clench around her, arching your back as you cry out for your lover's touch.

"well, i hate to be the barrier of bad news, but she's not done which means neither am i. so, enjoy the show, cait. you sure have paid a pretty penny for it."

[sleepy-fiction]

Like Vampires Do.

Alucard Tepes x vampire!reader NSFW

syn: your lady Erzsebet was killed, so you venture to revenge her death by killing your ex-lover Adrian Tepes. What you fail to consider are old, bitter feelings of unprocessed heartbreak to peak through your scheme. Through the shared regrets of the failures of your relationship, you come face to face to what you're scared of the most. Love and Adrian Tepes. and u fuck like dogs too but that's beside the point

tags: bdsm, knife play, blood play, hate sex, cunnilingus (male receiving), breeding kink, freaky dynamic, reader has a fear of love, alucard has a rejection fear, sadistic reader, mostly bottom alucard

a/n: PROOFREAD. this was a fun post!! love u whimpering men. also I ended up changing the plot while writing, so the intro might be a little jaded, but over all it should smoothly transition to the new plot.

6.8K WORDS

Alucard, now that he is over three hundred, is attractive in the way observing his every move is a treat, but to be physically intertwined with him is a different story. He is attractive in the way blooming flowers are, how they glisten and glow, having their own aura and status. With eyes brimming towards the future, overcome with prowess. Alucard three hundred years ago had most of his humanity still within him, it's easy to see how the two of you could intertwine. But now he's more vampire than he is human, and how do vampires love? Do vampires truly have soft spots for eachother? And is he worth spending the rest of your eternal life with?

These are the questions that run through your mind as your greedy eyes peered out from the shadows of leaves. You were in Paris, brought along by the sounds of revolution, by the death of your lord Drolta and your precious leader, Erzsebet. And also, by the news that spread about the Alucard stationed in Paris.

You didn't feel you belonged here, not after all this time, not after all the blood spilt your hands. Nothing but crippling anxiety built up in your belly, the bile taste like poison through your vampiric teeth.

You've known Alucard before.

Back when you were human.

The two of you had met on your travels to India. You can easily remember the nights rolling around in silk satin. The warmth of his flesh and fading blonde strands against your bare skin. You remember the ecstasy of presenting your inventions and knowing that somewhere in the crowd lied your partner, Alucard. But you knew him as Adrian Tepes.

You also rememver how quickly all of the bliss went to shit.

You can clearly picture the night when Hindi vampires hailed from the sky. The fear, the trepidation. How your throat logged up, your eyes glossed over in affright.

You remember how Alucard grabbed you by the window of your estate-- but you, too panicked, too terrified, couldnt think straight and fought against him. You didn't listen, more so, couldn't hear him over the buzzing in your ears. So your physically weak body commanded you to fight against him to sit-- just for a moment all you needed was to sit down. Catch your breath.

But, you didn't listen.

Nay, you couldn't hear.

You remember the piercing feeling of--

You winced bitterly. Your hands flew to touch the burnt eclipse symbol on your forehead. Your hands shook, your heart drumming. It was better to stay focused.

But on what? Your mind was racing.

The atmosphere of Paris was lively, the night life was full of partying, as the smell of wine doft around the air. The city was full of glowing lights. You quietly stepped down the stone streets, careful to pull the heavy cloak over your face, and being ever more to hide your fangs.

You traveled down to a bar, following your most primal senses, and finding yourself peering in through the window. There, in the hubub of merry and warm lights, you could see him.

The Alucard.

Your Adrian Tepes.

Your breath fails you.

He's ever the more gorgeous than what he was before. His skin flushed an unnatural white, complimenting to his hair, now completely dull of blonde and bordering delicate sliver. His eyes were soft and doting, as he smiled at the bartender, engaged in a conversation your sharp ears could squander.

It was more so him listening, than saying a word.

You bit your lips, glossy tears brimming your eyes. You should walk in and slay him right now.

Slay him for your master.

Slay him for your h... Heartbreak.

Meekly, pitifully, your hand reached up to stroke the glass, guilt bursting through your body. But even though glass, your hand seemed to sear away from him. Even through glass, his sunshine seemed to burn your moonlit hands. No longer could you walk the day light the way you did before.

You are a creature of the night now. Undeserving to even try for the light.

Forlorn, bitter, and forgotten. Capable of only evil. And that is your reasoning for why you did what you had to do. You did what you had to when Erzsebet chose you. You did what you must, when you bathed in her holy blood.

Alucard has to accept it.

No, he's moved on by now. He doesn't even think of you after all this time.

Yet you could not.

By all law and by all reasoning you should be in there right now, either scorched to death by his paws, or destroying him in yours-- for your dead mistress's sake. But for some reason, now, one hundred years later, your body seems to forsake itself. It and everything you believed in.

Your teeth chattered.

There was too much blood on your hands now.

You could hear the bells of melancholy solitude.

Your fists clenched tightly.

Yea, and must you--

Suddenly, a voice calls out, "I know he's even more daunting in person," a hum trailing after her words. You turn in a shock, your eyes finding a small blonde girl dressed in pink, her hands folded as she stared through the window next to you. Her serious eyes fixated on the Alucard, her lips parted, the faintest air of a flush tinting her pale cheeks.

You swallowed thickly. You spoke, "Why- Yes." Seeing that she was no threat, you simply tugged your hood further. Your gaze averting back to the window.

She continues, "he has this aura. This presence... It brims with..."

"The cry of solitude," you mutter, unable to stop your pitiful hand from touching the glass once more. "Lonely little eyes, lonely stare," you whisper.

Look at you. Begging from your insides for him to turn and look at you.

She cackles, stepping behind you, "Yes, like an abandoned puppy." You suddenly feel magic swelling behind you. But before you can act, the little girl growls, "Move an inch and I'll cut out your throat," she spits.

You freeze on command, your eyes racing back to get a glimpse of her.

She grins, "I'm not stupid. Seriously. Who hangs around in a cloak at night mere days after the slaughter of thousands? Vampires are too predictable... Do you know how many of your kind has staged useless revenge attacks here? I'm not letting you get near Alucard. Ever."

Your eyes redirect themselves to the window, where Alucard parts with the bartender with a gracious smile. Your eyes clench close, savoring the memory behind your eyelids. You speak, your voice barely above a whisper, "If this must be my death, then so be it. For the glory of my lady Erzsebet--"

Yet fate smiles on you.

Before you could finish, you hear that husky, melachonly voice call, "Maria?"

It's slow and smooth, husky and rich.

Just as it was all those years ago.

Your heart caught itself in your throat. You should have never dropped your guard.

As the girl, who you assume is Maria, turns to face him with a zealous fire abrupting out her tongue, you shrink into a bat and take off to the night.

Being the luckier sort, you where able to escape.

Though you didn't dare glance at, him, you could feel the unmistakable burn of his body.

Alucard Tepes.

--

When the next night came around, you thought all of your juvenile feelings would pass. You thought seeing once would be enough; but your body ached until sunset, able to even sleep a bit during the day. You tossed and turned in the grass of the outskirts of the city, clawing at your chest, twisting and turning, trying to stop the cries that burnt down your cheeks; the wails that accompanied them.

After hours of agonizing.

You decided your pain must be stemming from losing your lady Erzsebet. How she stirs within you.

The guilt.

Of Erzsebet.

Nothing more or less.

"I- I don't know what I am anymore,"

"Let me tell you, please. I can tell you,"

You hissed at the memory, knees weak. Regardless of the omen, you took flight into the setting sky.

You found yourself on the balcony of one of the rooms in the castle. Your soul seemed to guide you to this particular one. Never have you doubted your instincts. The windows were open, the curtains flowing in the soft breeze. Your eyes honed in on the white figure, dressed in sleeping attire, latches on the front of his chest barely tied, revealing the delicious skin.

You stood still.

You knew that he could sense you.

But he continued to write, a small candle illuminating his face and letter.

You stepped into the room, shutting the windows and drawing the curtains. The room smelled of him, smelled of aged vanilla, and a hint of spiced rum. Your fingers trailed down the fabric of the curtain. It was rough to the touch, no doubt made to block sunlight. Yet still you could hear the wanton scribbles of ink on paper.

You spoke, "I've come to kill you."

Alucard abruptly stopped. He rose his head, slowly turning to lay eyes on you. He blinks once, then twice; his soft lashes lidded over his eyes. He spoke, "Step into the light."

Intoxicating was the sound of his voice, the breath of his commands.

You obeyed, inching deeply closer. As close as you could without being burned by the radiance of his skin. Which, for you, was right at the edge of where the candle light could meet you.

You watch Alucard's face twinge up.

An expression your body only knew as disappointment.

You were bathed in blood the day you became a vampire. No-- You were addicted to it. Even now, to satisfy your hunger, you drink human blood twice a year. Anything to prevent your previous uncontrollable calamity.

You slaughtered so many.

Unable to hear Alucard.

Unable to hear Adrian.

You told yourself you needed to find yourself and hid from him. Going to the corners of the world where he wouldn't find you. And then finding yourself worshipping a woman who promised to feed your uncontrollable addiction. To turn the world into an endless night, that you may drink as much as you wanted.

Hell.

You discovered your body had the taste for men's blood over women's. Something adverse to most of vampire society. It made you feel better. At least you weren't slaughtering the defenseless.

It was only after continuous mental failures that Erzsebet forced you to become clean. She locked you up somewhere in Chukotka, letting perma-frost deal with you.

And you came out even more power hungry than how you started.

Yes.

There was countless deaths on your hands.

You weren't misled. Although, yes, a part of you was. But there was an even larger part of you that acted of its own accord. A part of you that you didn't know that you couldn't control. You were fully a vampire, not half.

You want to eat flesh and drink blood.

Not the blood of pigs, or chickens, or cows.

Human men's.

So there you stood with a face of stone, holding a dagger in your right hand.

"Closer. I cannot see you... Come closer," Adrian called.

But you didn't fall to his will this time.

"Your hood... At least remove it... May I see the face of the vampire who wishes to kill me," he whispers. Truth was, Adrian already knew it was you. He had a feeling when he felt Maria's magic, and seeing the glimpse of your form fluttering away into the night, he knew that whoever it was was quite the peculiar vampire.

He promised Maria that he'd go after you, and that she need not to worry. But he knew whoever it was would be back soon. Just. He didn't expect it to be you. Only after hearing your voice did it all make sense.

Truly, this all was a trap, he had his sword floating meters above his head out of sight. And it was aimed right at you.

You obeyed this time, slipping off your hood to reveal your face. His eyes twinge in horror and delight. Delight, at the nostalgic sight of your beauty. The softness of your face, the sweetness of your eyes, those lips he familiarized all to well with. Horror, at the almost faded symbol engraved onto your forehead. At the lack of life or passion in your eyes and the deep eyebags that accompanied it. Horror, of how your pretty eyes had turned red- a token of your endless bloodlust.

It was so painfully beautiful to look at.

He knew you were smart, and judging by your eye color, he knew you'd be a difficult vampire to fight. But despite it all, his guard had fell to ashes.

"(Y/n)," he whispered.

"I haven't heard that name in a while... My queen gave me a new one," you spoke. "The person you knew before is dead. And only I remain."

"Don't do this, you don't want this," Adrian pleads. Unexpectedly, he stands up from the table, his eyes lost in empathy. A gaze that seemed to sear your body worse.

You flinch backward in surprise, but he continued towards you.

You stand your ground, and as his presence draws near, his chest inches away from touching yours, you pull your dagger to rest against his neck.

But he's close, awfully so. His cosmic aura radiating against you, his beautiful luscious hair coating his shoulders, his gaze soft and thoughtful.

You only hardened yours, not allowing a droplet of emotion to slip through, not even for a second.

Adrian swallows thickly, feeling the blade caress his skin for every movement. You were shutting down on him, something he's seen before. He saw it the best the day he tried to save you, and you blindly shut away from him, unable to see the rush of hindi vampires barreling out towards the both of you.

Selfishly, he didn't care about saving that city that day; he only wanted you.

He would've took you so far, he would've cared for you until the end of your days.

He yearned after you for so long.

It was his fault you were swarmed. There were too many to count. Too many to fight.

He didnt mean to leave you in that hoard.

He knew the world still needed him, he couldnt die saving you.

But... He came back for you.

Hell, it was too late.

His eyes weaken, tears brewing up, "I deserve it, my love. I've forsaken you- I failed you."

What you didn't expect was those words.

You push him towards the bed as he speaks, forcing him to sit and keeping your blade against his neck as he did so.

"My love," he cries pitifully, his hand weakly grabbing your wrist that held the dagger. "Dying by your hands is befitting. I've lived for too long," he whispers. His beauty glows, shining brighter for every tear.

You push him again, and he lays back onto the bed, gorgeous locks sprawled out. Automatically, he seems to crawl backward, only his feet dangle off the edge. You force yourself on top of him, your hand by his head, the other holding the dagger to his neck, with your knees on either side of him.

Staring at your dead face was worse. He didn't know how to please you. He begs, "Please, my love... Speak to me... My (y/n), my sweet..."

If he failed anyone the most on the world, it was you. You were the frankstein that his mishaps created.

He knew it then, he should have killed you. Spare you of the new life that awaited you. He knew it when you shook in his arms, how you spoke with bloody fangs and an even bloodier chin. He couldn't do it. So selfishly he left you alive.

This was all his fault.

You sliced a small cut on the side of his neck, shallow enough for blood to ooze. He whimpers out, eyes frantically shutting, his knee surging in distress. You dive down, licking a delicious stripe on his neck. His blood is deliciously sweet with a tart aftertaste. Your free hand cups his neck as you bury your nose into his flesh, fangs threatening to puncture his skin as you slurped and licked.

He groans out, head arched backwards into the plush sheets, hands weakly grabbing fistful of your cloak. In his desperation to grip onto you, the cloak slips off, so his hands spring onto your shirt instead. A trail of delicate whimpers and groans mewl from his pink lips.

You can't take it anymore, and puncture your fangs into his flesh. He cries out, fistfuls of your shirt growing intense wrinkles. You pull out your fangs and slurp and suck out his crimson as it explodes to meet you, body growing franatic on the taste. Your knees weaken as you hapzardly sit down on him. Beneath the hilt of your ass, you can feel his achingly hard cock, your freehand grips his flesh in primal surprise.

He turns slightly, forcing you out of his neck to look at him. It's quite the sight to see you, lips and chin stained with his blood. "(Y/n)... (Y/n)," he's begging pitifully, his face flushed. You don't let him speak for long, as you bury your lips against his, creating sweet music.

The sound of liplocking overtakes the crisp air, as you slurp up his tongue as he feeds it to you. Your hands fall lower onto his body, caressing down his muscular shoulders, your dagger meeting his chest. You break away, slicing another shallow cut on his pale chest.

He groans and arches into the blade. You sink quickly into the taste, licking it up bountifully.

You pull back to admire your work. Adrian laid sprawled beneath you, his gorgeous hair mingling with the white linen, his mouth agape and flushed, your saliva trailing from the corners of it. His neck sliced and punctured, as the remains of his blood dribbled onto the sheets. He was beautiful.

You softly grind your hips down against his, moaning out quietly, licking the blade as you did so. Adrian cried out, "W-Wait," and grabbed your hips, locking them in place.

You looked at him, and confusion poisoned his features.

"T-Talk to me," he grunts.

Your eyes narrow down on him, "What is it to talk about, Adrian? Our bodies want eachother."

Adrian shuts his eyes close, pain dotting his features. He sputters breathlessly, "I can't do this-- I'm too old... I can't be spontaneous like b--"

You quirk, "You cannot stay up anymore?"

His face brims red, "No! I can-- It's just... (Y/n), I don't want to just sleep with you and forget it-- I loved you... I lo-- care for you... I want you. I don't want to forget you."

Unsettling feeling springs up in your chest. "I'm loyal to no one," you spit. "You killed my master." You pull away from him, dagger still in hand, as you slide off the bed.

Adrian shoots up, rushing after you as you continue toward the window. He captured your hips within seconds, barely dodging the slice you swung as you turned around. He took the opportunity to pull you close, grabbing your wrist and holding your dagger back from another slice.

You groan and struggle like a wild cat. He sinks into your wrist, softly placing a kiss under where his thumb held you. He drug his nose upwards to your palm, where it hit the hilt of the dagger. In surprise, you dropped it, and it landed with a clamor. He follows up your hand until he rests his cheek on your open palm, forcing you to softly carress the skin.

Your breath hitches, that feeling springing up more and more. You try to claw away from it, your free hand to swing at his chest, your foot raising up to kick him uncoordinatedly.

Hurt flashes through Adrian's eyes, but he lets you go. Unexpectedly, you flew back into the closed windows, your heel getting caught on the curtains, making you slip back, falling on your butt to the floor.

In this vulnerable position, Alucard stood above you, hands behind his back, his gown giving away glimpses of his sleek legs. Frantic, your head begins to spin, as your eyes drag back and forth over his body. You whimper out headless sounds as you grab onto the curtain for support. Desperate to gain some sanity.

His smell, his taste, the sight of him.

It wasn't just overcoming lust, but instead this weird feeling from the depths of your brain, crying out. Some sort of emotional response. And emotions were the one thing you sought to control. What Erzsebet saw as a flaw in you.

Listening to your emotions.

Your eyes shut close, freezing up as you tenderly hold onto the curtain. Adrian's quiet, deathly so. You can feel his eyes draw in on you, and somehow it's worse than the fear.

He reaches and opens the window for you, the midnight breeze flying in as the glass door reveals the balcony you entered in from. You eyes pop open, glimpsing out towards the night sky.

Yet you can't bring yourself to leave either.

Your knuckles grow white.

"Leave," you hear him mutter, "You can leave..."

Your head whips to see him, an aura of empathy radiating off his form. All he sees is just another scared vampire.

But he knows if you leave, you might not ever return.

You've got too much of yourself to figure out.

You know that you should leave.

You slowly stand.

His heart burns and he looks off at the floor.

You finally, finally speak, "I-I can't leave... Surely, I'll die." Your heart pounds at the words.

"I'll tell Maria about you," he whispers.

No. He didn't understand. You didn't mean it physically. This was horrifying. Having to explain what you wanted most. Frustrated tears pinged the corners of your eyes, your hands shaking. Stress overcoming your pinched eyebrows.

"Al-- Adrian... Adrian... Adrian," is all you can muster out, a pitiful plea. "Adrian I'll die--"

But before you could finish the sentence, you were involved into a strong embrace. You could hear his cries against your ears as he kept bitterly, your hands weakly holding onto the clothes that hang around his back.

"Stay here-- stay here forever," he yearns.

Your heart bursts. "O-Okay-- Okay Adrian,"

And just as the morning sun peaks in from the clouds, Adrian pulls you back into his dark room, and shuts the door.

You are pulled deeper and deeper into his midnight lair, pulled until your feet crawl against the bed, where he tucks you under with him, encasing you in his arms and in velvet sheets. He seems to swallow you whole, entrapped in his love with nowhere to go. With nothing but fear of rejection lingering him, he braves through it, softly peppering the back of your neck with subtle kisses.

And with nothing but the fear of love in your belly, you brave it, ragdolling and leaving yourself vulnerable to his affections, and also how they make you feel.

Your back is flush against his chest, his legs against the back of yours as he spoons you. He has a strong arm laid on your body. It hooks through your chest and rests his hands on place by your sternum and collarbone. He's holding you there, holding you as he whispers, painful affections and peppers' sweet kisses.

You focus merely on calming your stress, sucking in slow breaths, desperate to process the last hour with him. Its hard to think of anything at all, when you hear his smooth, husky voice calling out your name caressing and kissing you.

You wince and groan out, as his lips dip to the start of your back. His hand releases you to pull at the laces of your shirt, undoing it to reveal more of your back. Your skin is cold, but definitely not uncharacteristic of a vampire.

His large, warm hand caresses the skin, and you arch and sigh out. The warmth drags deliciously slow strokes up and down your sensitive back, his thumb trailing your spine. He reaches and pulls the shirt off one side of your shoulder as he dips into it to kiss it.

You whimper, tension feeling the area.

"I'm sorry for what happened," he whispers.

You try to figure out his intentions by saying that, but the only thing that seems to spring up is genuine care. Tears prick your eyes again. You hate to say there's only one thing your body wants to say. But you have to be vulnerable to let it take over. You wince, and with shaky breath, you spoke, "It wasn't your fault, Adrian..."

His hand slips under your shirt and touches your bare stomach, the warm feeling spreading as he slides up to your ribcage, still kissing at the beginning of your back and neck.

"I failed to protect you, I couldn't help you, I regret it so much," he whispers.

"I ran from you too, Adrian... It wasn't all your fault... I was addicted to human blood... And in the hours you were gone, I already feasted on hundreds with the rest," you whispered. "I wasn't going to give that up... Not even for you."

"But--"

"You were powerless before. You were powerless again... You may be strong, but you can not out number the thousands," you pause, struggling either the next set of words, "Besides... You already fought so hard for me... It was..."

Adrian stops, eyes trailing to you.

"Admirable..." Your tone was fluttering.

He seems satisfied with the answer, as he sinks down, unbuckling your belt, and pulling out oneside of it. You grunt as his hands slip into your pants, large hand going to squeeze the warmth of your inner thighs. Despite it all, you still felt an overwhelming sense of peace. He continues to kiss his lips. You lick yours, tasting his sweet, dried blood.

You ask, "Do you want me, Alucard?"

He whines in your ears, "Of course I do." He's like an excitable puppy, just waiting to get off on you. And like a dog, you feel him start to grind against your ass.

A pleased hum escapes you. Within seconds, you transform into a bat, using it to reappear, once again ontop of him. He gasps in surprise, turning over to face you. You grin, caressing his cheek. "Look at my face, you think you can fuck this? Does this not detest you," you lean in with a hiss.

It was your turn to decloth him, as you raised his sleeping gown up higher and higher, revealing more of his pale skin. He's taken aback for a second, his eyes flickering between your ruby red ones and the fading sigil on your forehead. You open your mouth, baring your bloody fangs.

He whimpers, objectively bucking up into your hand.

How pitiful.

You grin sharply, by now his gown was pulled up to his stomach, his unmarked flesh ever so delicious in your eyes. You also took note that he wore no undergarments, his cock half hard as it arose. You sunk down on your knees between his legs, lowering yourself to his dick and laying your hands on his hips.

He grew harder in your stare. You scratched the side of his hip, the faintest dewlet of blood dropping on your finger tip. You brought it up to your mouth, staring deep into his eyes as you licked it away. He groaned, bucking upwards again.

"Ah, ah, ah... Patience, Adrian," you whispered.

He nodded powerlessly, his dewy hair clinging to his neck and face. You bring your lips to his cock, cupping the base of it with both hands, and misting your breath against the sensitive rod. His cockhead pulses towards you lips, you giggle at the sight. Finally, you sink your nose against the side of him, drinking in his scent.

"Oh- fuck," He curses, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. But he can't bring himself to look away. You were enchanting.

You open your mouth all the way, using the front of your fang with your front teeth to drag the smooth side of your teeth against his flesh. He whimpered and cried out, sloppily dropping a heavy hand on your head. You stop just before his head, where you tongue his tip's hole, using the sharper part of your muscle to do so.

He wains, trying his best not to fist your hair for you. Being so good for you.

You turn your head to the side again, sucking the side of his shaft, slurping and swaying against him with your tongue. He was more than hard by now, his dick long and skinny, no shorter than nine monstrous inches, a testament to his vampire side. It was a flushed pale pink, growing red by the second.

You let go of him, and his cock flops back against his stomach with a smack. You laugh, picking him up again with your index finger just to see him fall, again, and again. Adrian doesn't complain, merely, he uses his freehand to grip the sheets beside him, restraining himself all for you.

Once playing with his cock proved enough, you sunk into his balls, burying your nose into him, and ferociously slurping, sucking, and licking him up. He moans out in shock, as you use your hands to stroke his inner thighs comfortably. "Aaah- (y/n)," he seems to stutter out your name. As if a simple plea would make you take him seriously.

You slurp one into your mouth before the other, then you release and drag a long stripe upwards to his cock, and then to his cockhead. You scoop his dick up one last time before finally, finally, guiding him straight into your mouth. You hallow out your cheeks around his length, sucking him, and running your tongue briskly around the bottom of him. You bob your head pacedly to the sound of his wanton moans, using your hands to please what your mouth failed to reach.

Adrian's jaw falls completely slack, his grip tightening in your hair, wanton moans following out of his lips. It had been at least forty years since he had last had sex, the thrills of it burned his pent-up mind. Without thinking, he slowly began to thrust into your warm mouth, sliding himself back and forth against your soft, hot, moist taste buds. You grunt, adjusting your head to accept him better.

He mumbles, "Sorry- Sorry." But its met with an angry stare.

Well. If he's already in trouble, he might as well please himself while he can. His thrusts gain speed, his head hitting the back of your throat.

You wheeze around him, dropping your hands to grip his inner thighs, careful to not squeeze his cock. He takes this small adjustment as an agreement from you as he furthers all nine inches of himself into your deep throat. You can feel him tickle far into your body, a feeling you almost would've forgotten. Only Adrian's ever fucked you like this, and painfully, it sent pleased tingles down your body. Despite how you gagged and choked about him. The sensation was replaceable.

You were vice against him, a sign he was further than where he should, but hell it was exhilarating. His moans grew louder, his head doting back between looking at you and being lost in bliss. His thrusts began to slow as he slipped out of your deep throat, from your mouth, and came right as he slid out of your lips.

You gasped in surprise, as his warmth sprayed your nose, lips, cheeks, some of it dribbling down your chin. You cough, angrily wiping his cum off your face with your forearm. "How considerate of you, Alucard," you grunt, staring at the sticky fluids against your skin.

He merely laughs, "Do forgive me, love." Angrily, you slip off the bed. He calls out, "N-No wait I di--"

"Calm yourself," you hum. You slip out of your clothes, dropping your pants to the floor, sliding out of your boots, and pulling your shirt over your head. Your ruined undergarments fell just as quick. You briskly returned ontop of him, pulling up his gown to his ribcage. You suddenly pause, "Or? Did you not want me to undress?"

How could you say something so cruel when he was only looking at you during that whole process, softly squeezing himself to stay hard, and biting his lip when he saw your bare ass. He's restricting himself for you, can't you see how good he is? All it takes is one pitiful, glossy eyed look from him and you know what he's thinking. "Of course I- By all means, (y/n)," he tries to play it cool.

Your grin worsens. You grab him by the chin, as your freehand lines him up to your hole. Eagerly, you watch as his face constructs, eyebrows pinching forward in delight, sultry eyes staring up at you, lips parted to moan. You kiss your hole against his tip, puckering to seal the deal. He thrusts forward, dipping his head into your honey walls.

You moan, soon, giving all the way in and slipping down on his skinny cock. Your eyes fly to space as you take more and more of him, feeling his cock tickle your gut, until bottoming out. In sync, the two of you moan sharply at the feeling. Your head drops forward in bliss.

"(Y/n)," he sighs, his hands reaching up and guiding your hair away from your face. Last he remembers, you were never put out of commission just by bottoming out on him. Unless, you too were just as pent-up as he was.

You gaze up at him, humming. He becons you closer, so you drop his jaw and pick up your head. He takes the opportunity to kiss your cheek, just beneath your left eye. You giggle, "Aw, how cute."

Immediately you bounced on him, slowly dragging his long cock against your walls. Your head grew heavy again, as you rested your forehead against his collarbone. "Aaah, Adriaan," you hiss, your moans drowning out his whimpers.

You plunge down on his length, feeling him stretch about your gut, and you clench around his cock. That all it takes before Adrian loses it, frantically thrusting and bucking up into you. You cry out in surprise, "A-Adrian," your moan closer to an ecstatic wail.

He's speedy, relentless, his length seeming to make up for his lack of precision. Your body felt completely stuffed. He stimulated parts of you that where never before touched, at least, not by anyone but his cock. His hands gripped chunks of your bare hips, his eyes fucked out and lips spread, his fangs flashing in the disarray.

Your hand leaned forward, resting your palm against the bedframe for support, your head laying next to his by now, ass bounced about adverse to your accord. It was pathetic, as drool dabbled the corners of your lips. "A-Adrien-- Good- Good boy," you mewl, and it only sends him into a worse frenzy.

Through the barrage of frantic, doggish thrusts, your message gets sent straight to Adrian's fangs, a primal urge over taking him. He sits up, stopping for second, to lay his back against the pillow. You dazedly peek up from his neck, but quickly, he starts up thrusting again. Only this time, before you could even moan, he leans down and punctures your shoulder. He doesn't withdraw his teeth to draw blood. No, it's more so to lock you in place. His fangs split your flesh in second, the primal sensation causing you to arch and moan, grabbing chunks of his white locks.

Vampires fuck like dogs.

You reach forward with your free hand and dig your sharp nails into the flesh of his shoulder, drawing blood. Your brain turned off, and your lust fueled off the scent. His thrusts lose all coordination, and if it weren't for his length, he would have slipped out a dozen times by now.

With a deep, whiney voice, he husks, "I-I'm cumming- C-cumming-- I'm cumming," voice interrupted by your skin for every thrust.

"Cum you bastard," you snarl. No way you'd let him have all the fun, as you started to bounce downwards, fucking yourself on him in time with his senseless barrage. It's only through you that his thrust meets some sort of rhythm, as you clean up all his doggish mishaps.

Fuck, you'd be lying to say your climax wasn't rapidly approaching. Hell, it seemed to make you angrier. Next time you'll really fuck him up good.

With a cry, hot semen floods your warm insides, but you can't even look back, as Alucard's fangs trap your shoulder in place. His thrusts stop as he rides out his high, and it only worsens your agenda against him because you haven't even came yet.

"Bastard, have you lost all manners," you ruin his afterglow, as you ferociously fuck down on him again, quick and speedy, replicating it from before. A sadistic glow seems go brim your face, your moans full of delight. Adrian whimpers and whines, overstimulation causing him to buck, squirming away beneath you. Despite it, he doesn't loosen his death grip on your hips, nor does he remove his fangs.

As your moans spiked, he closed his ears to engulf the airy sound of you reaching your orgasm. You cry out, your knees stupidly giving out, bottoming out on him as you exploded. You dropped your head weakly forward, not that it could go anywhere, but still keep your iron grip in his white locks and your nails embbeded in his flesh.

You two were really doing this. Stubborn fucks, mating like vampires and engaging in a childish ritual. Whoever pulls away their fangs or claws first loses power to the other, a primal game as old as time that quickly overrides your natural senses.

Your nails possesively sink deeper into his flesh, unaware of how your red eyes flickered and bloomed a deeper shade. And for the first time in your life, you heard Adrian grunt and growl like a dog, having the upper hand with his teeth embedded in you. His grip on your hips were tight enough to crush and hurt. It only makes your insides flutter around him.

You pull at his locks, forcing his head back. He whimpers, fangs flying out with him, as a fountain of your blood springs out. It's your turn to finally release him, as you lean back, cupping a hand over your wound. You laugh, "Ah-hah..."

Your beautiful crimision leaks down your chest in waves, coating your nipples. He salivates and slaps a hand over himself. "Drink, my love. You've earned it," you mewl. With your freehand you lather yourself in your blood, caressing and squeezing your body as if it were any expensive lotion.

His eyes shut, hips bucking into you. You mewl. He groans, "I have never drank blood. Not once in my three-hundred-years of living."

You blink in surpise. "Aah... Is that why you didn't draw from me." Due to your vampiric healing, the wound closed, leaving only blood to remain. Your hand goes to join the other, as it scoops up a stripe of blood and guides it to your mouth. "It's gooddd," you cackle.

"I know, I can smell it," he grunts.

"Fine," you sadly part with his dick, sliding off the bed and grabbing your cloak from earlier; patting yourself dry. You can hear the bed shift behind you, feel eyes burning against your ass.

"You'll stay, at this castle, won't you?" He asks.

"For as long as I can before that girl comes to kill me," you laugh.

"Then, retreat to my castle."

"The one by the belmont settlement? Surely they'll kill me worse," you roll your eyes.

He grins, stepping out of bed and encasing you in a hug. He burrows his face against you, whispering, "Then I'll have to hide you. You can't leave this very room. M- My pet..."

Your eyelid twitches.

You know he's just trying to rile you up. But still, your fists clench.

"Oh hell, no," you grumble as you shove him back onto the bed.

His hearty laughter fills the air.

You get on top of him, raising meaningless fists (ones that weren't going to hurt him in the first place), that are captured by his hands. He laughs, the sound as pure as sunlight.

It makes your face scrunch playfully, "I am going to get you, I really am. I'll kill you first, Alucard."

He grunts, cupping your ass and tossing you off. You cry, playfully landing on your side. He crawls on top of you, a gorgeous beauty, and he pulls his luxurious white strands back away from his face. "I'd like to see you try," he mutters, but your eyes move to the scar across his chest.

"Mmh," you moan, eyes lidding.

"Shall we go again, my love?"

"I think I would like that."

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 9.

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Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine)

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 2,690 (I tried to keep it short but ended up with a longer version since I wanted to do this idea of sweet loving Dean switching back and forth to soft dom!Dean justice)

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Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: In my headcanon Dean’s a switch and a super soft dom, always making sure you feel comfortable. And mainly playing the dom part because he had noticed how you'd always bite your bottom lip whenever he’s using his deep and authoritative voice with others or how you'd swallow thickly when he kicks into action on hunts, and it dawns on him that it actually turns you on. Dunno whether this is a popular headcanon but guess that's just my take on him, I hope you'll enjoy it!

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9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

“Are those the same cuffs we’re using on our hunts? Nasty.” you jab with a little playful smile on your lips while you watch Dean smirk and chuckle, rifling through his duffle bag to pull out the familiar pair of handcuffs.

“Yep, that’s the exact pair. But don’t worry, no ghost slime or vamp blood on ‘em.” He assures with a grin, as he makes his way back to the bed.

He kneels down just behind your naked back, the handcuffs grasped in his fingers while he gently tugs at your hands. “You remember the safe word, baby?” He asks, as he leans towards you, a calm and gentle tone in his words when he begins to bring your wrists together behind your back. You feel your excitement kick in, his strong hands coaxing your slender ones to follow his lead with such tenderness - in a way like no one rarely ever gets to witness him despite you.

Your head turns sideways to glance back at him, searching for his eyes to give him a reassuring smile of yours. “Yep, Cherry Pie.” you chuckle lightly. And to prove your point, you drop slightly forward, your naked chest automatically sinking further into the mattress while he pulls your arms behind your back together. He carefully places the cuffs around your wrists, locking them with a quiet click, before giving them a gentle and tentative tug, always checking to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable

“Too tight?” He asks, his tone calm and gentle. “No, it’s a green from my side.” You hum, referring to the traffic light system you’d always use when you'd do something more intense.

Dean lets out a silent sigh of relief, but quickly covers it up with a cocky grin, “Now, remember that time your drunk ass told me you’d want me to tame you like a little brat…? You up for it?” For a moment you swallow thickly, your breath caught in your throat. Wait- shit- He actually remembers that? “I got us something… in case you’re still u-”

“Yes,” you cut him short, the word slipping your lips thanks to your excitement sky rocking now. “Is it another gift wrapped in toilet paper?” You quickly add, trying to distract from your flustered expression. Dean’s smirk widens at your eager response and he moves off the bed to get something from the nightstand’s drawer, “Nah, this one didn’t need packing.” Moments later, he kneels back on the bed behind you, his hands moving to gently caress your skin again. You angle your shoulders, peering back up at him with the side of your face flush against the mattress, your breath increasing as you spot the new toy in his hand. Held up high, letting you see it in its full glory, was a medium-sized, black leather riding crop.

Goddamn. A shiver runs through your body, your heart suddenly racing and the heat pooling between your legs. He begins to slowly run the leather tail of the crop across your bare skin, allowing you to get used to the new sensation. Your breath hitches when it ever so lightly brushes over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake and sending another cold shiver down your spine.

“Damn…” you breath out hoarsely, slightly muffled by the mattress. And you suddenly feel your cheeks flush a bit pink at the thought of your following words, “You- … you gonna whip me in shape?”

He chuckles in response, the vibrations of his laughter rippling against your skin. “Oh definitely – can’t tame my girl otherwise, now can I.” He says, before he begins to lightly nudge your legs with the end of the crop. “Lift your hips.” He instructs, his voice calm and gentle yet authoritative.

You wiggle yourself off the mattress in order to lift your hips, your chest still firmly pushed into the blanket as it was a bit difficult to hold your balance with your wrists cuffed behind your back.

Dean notices you swaying slightly and his free hand quickly goes to stabilize you by holding your hip upright. “Good girl.” He murmurs in response, a tone of praise in his voice. He then begins to slowly run the end of the crop down your spine, the leather slowly and gently sliding along the bumps under your skin. A soft whimper escapes your lips at the sensation while the leather tail continues to tease and caress your skin, causing chills to run down your spine and straight to your core.

Without a word, he suddenly smacks the leather down against your ass, the impact stinging but in a way that makes you shiver from pleasure and excitement. You involuntarily wince at the sudden whip, muffling the pathetic noise with the mattress as you bury your face in the blanket.

“Shit- sorry babe,” he apologizes quickly while his hand goes to caress the spot where the leather had hit. He leans to the side to check on your expression, his eyes widened slightly, “You okay?” “Mm-hm”, you confirm, the unmistakable lust carrying your husky voice when the next words slip you, “P-please- please don’t stop- I-” Did you just say that? You bite your lips, your eyes quickly averting his with a hint of embarrassment.

Dean senses your inner conflict and his protectiveness quickly kicks in – you feeling embarrassed in front of him? Nuh-uh, nope, not with me. He thinks for a moment, his free hand gently stroking your ass. Then, a faint grin spreads across his face when it clicks in his head and he realizes what you want but don’t dare to voice.

“Whimper for me…” He suddenly instructs, his voice going low and deep, just the way he knew secretly turned you on. He had noticed it plenty of times before when you were on hunts, never commenting on it, but your subtle reactions never went unnoticed by him.

You freeze, unsure whether you heard him correctly, but your teeth were already pulling at your lip again at that tone of his. Dean notices your hesitation, so he decides to step up his game. He slides the crop up from the back of your thighs, to your ass and then to your lower back.

“I want you to make pretty and needy sounds for me, sunshine.” He murmurs, his voice a low and gentle tone. “I want you to beg while I tame you.” He lightly smacks the leather against the back of your thigh which makes you wince softly against the blanket. “Whimper, and I’ll reward you, little brat.” He promises, his voice gentle yet commanding, trying his best to play the role you secretly long for.

A shiver runs through your body at his words and lord - that firm tone of his does things to you, you would never admit loudly. Slowly, you feel your inhibitions evaporate. And instead lust and desire takes its place.

Leaned onto one shoulder, with your cuffed wrists still behind your back, you slightly tilt your body and lock eyes with him. His expression is a mixture of a knowing glint in his green eyes and a firm look that tells you he won’t stop until you’ll finally let go of that last shred of misplaced shame. A small, tentative smile appears on your face before you put on a desperate and whining expression with a soft small whimper.

He chuckles as he witnesses you following his instructions and slowly giving in to your secret desires, his smirk growing on his lips.

“Good girl…” he praises, then brings the leather back down against your skin, a bit rougher this time, causing a thwack to echo through the room.

“Ah-Mmnnnh!” A louder whine escapes you, not caring any more to stifle them.

He leans forwards so that his mouth is right by your ear, his breathing heavier than usual. “That was better… much better sweetheart.” He places a kiss on your jawline, before the end of the crop’s suddenly sliding against your side. “Do you wanna know what that little display earned you…?” he asks, his hot breath tickling your skin and making your own breath hitch briefly.

He then pushes his hips forwards, his chest flush against your back. “Can you feel that?” He asks, his voice a low tone. “Can you feel just how hard you make me, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah, God you’re really hard…” You say, your breath shaking slightly when you feel his cock twitching against the fabric of his pants, grinding against you.

He chuckles at your response, “Yeah… that's all because of you, sunshine…” He bites his bottom lip, secretly begging you to never feel embarrassed again for something that brings you pleasure. After a moment, he pulls back again, his heart rate rising as well now. “Turn over for me, sweetheart.” He instructs, his tone still demanding, determined to get you more hot.

You do as told and roll over, your wrists buried beneath your back as you settle down again. Then he slowly runs the end of the leather down your breasts, making your breath increase and a soft moan leave your lips. Dean has to bite back a groan at your reaction, before he scoots closer to you, sitting on his knees between your legs. One hand on your thigh and the other holding onto the leather crop. “You’re in for a treat, my good girl.”

He runs the end of the riding crop up the inside of your leg. “Just relax… I wanna see how well you can listen…”

You nod and lower your head back down into the mattress, while your legs shiver under the touch of the riding crop, both in anticipation and desperation. He slowly runs the leather up your leg, and onto your stomach, making you squirm. He chuckles when he sees you raise your head to glance towards it, trying to guess the next smack. “Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me…” You let out a frustrated whine while you reluctantly tare your gaze from the leather crop and back to him. Dean grins, amused by your reaction, but quickly continues in his dominant persona, trying not to break character for you. “That’s it… just focus on me, little brat…”

He then flicks the riding crop in the air before gently moving it down towards your inner thigh. He licks his lips when you let your head fall back into the mattress obediently and his eyes lock onto your dripping wet folds. You feel the end of the leather move up your thigh, before he places it over the top of your covered clit. Your legs tremble and your hips subtly buck, desperate for more friction, the teasing killing you at this point. Dean ignores your eagerness and slowly drags the end of the leather over your clit, his breath now short and quick with his own need. “Are you being a good girl…? Or you still need some tamin’ by good ol’ Winchester?”

“Mm-hm” you whimper shakily, your mind a haze by now but Dean knows the answer was clearly for the latter.

He chuckles when he hears your needy sound, finally allowing yourself to let go. “That’s what I thought…”

Your thighs twitch involuntarily when you feel his fingertip brushing against your slick folds, teasing your entrance. You whimper and your cuffed hands behind your back twist in a desperate effort to clutch the sheets. “God - So wet already for me…” he murmurs under his breath, his voice a deep groan.

“Guess I’ma have to scold you a lil’ more, hmm…” He hums, the riding crop being dragged up the other side of your inner thigh now. A shiver runs up your legs, the leather feeling like sparks against your skin. He then brings the crop down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to leave a mark, but also hard enough to make it sting.

“Ah-hnnn,” Your entire body twitches and you wince from the stinging sensation. You quickly bite your lips, your eyes rolling back and your head pressed into the mattress.

Dean’s persona falters briefly at your intense reaction. “Jesus…” He whispers. “You good, sunshine..?” He asks, his voice gentle and reassuring. “Color?”

“Green,” you pant softly, your eyes briefly connecting before you drop your head back down.

He smiles warmly when he hears you reply, relieved at your answer. You’re enjoying this.

“Good. Stay still…” He orders, his voice low and firm again. The crop comes down again with a thwat – harder than the last time. You hiss but once again bite back the louder reaction, your leg twitching at the stinging pain mixed with pleasure and need.

He smiles that signature cheshire smile at the sight of you, dripping wet, whimpering, wrists behind your back and the fact that he's the reason for this secret kink of yours. He suddenly notices how his pants grow tighter by the second and a dark stain spreads on the fabric around his crotch. “Just keep being a good girl for me… and you’ll get a really big reward.”

Dean quickly undoes his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers in one, hasty movement. You let out a low moan, your eyes locked on his thick erected cock now freed and twitching from need. He leans over you, his expression suddenly soft and vulnerable. “I love you…” He mumbles against your ear, his words barely a whisper, but suddenly feeling the need to let you know, especially now that he’s acting all rough and dominant for you.

You tilt your head slightly to nuzzle against the side of his face, your voice a soft murmur against his ear, “I love you, too.” You drop your voice lower before you add a little sheepish, “And thank you.” His heart swells when you nuzzle against him, his arms wrapped around you, pulling your body up and against his where your chin comes to a rest on his shoulder. “Thank you for trustin’ me with your secret fantasies…”

He then gently rolls you over onto your stomach again and lays down over you, his front pressing against your back. “Now… I’ve still got some tamin’ to do, don’t I?” he chuckles with a teasing smirk, at which a snort-chuckle slips your own lips and you mutter, “I’ll be a real brat if you don’t.”

“That so? Mmmh… my little vixen, huh.” He hums quietly, massaging and slightly squeezing you. He then lets the leather crop come down on your butt, another loud thwat echoing through the bedroom.

“Ahh-hnng” you whimper softly and you feel your pussy twitch from need.

He smiles at your whimper, before letting the crop come down again, a bit harder this time.

A louder whimper escapes you this time, your hips twitching involuntarily from the increased burning sensation, “I- I’ll be obedient” you suddenly wine, pleading now.

He chuckles again, his voice still gruff as he’s playing along. “Of course you’ll be… and I’ll reward you for that.” He pats your reddening skin with his other hand, “You’re such a good girl for me…” his hand slides across your butt and down your inner thighs, feeling again how much you were dripping already. He groans at the sight of you so ready and his fingers scoop up some of it to coat his hardened cock with your juice.

You pant heavily by now, your butt wiggling slightly in an attempt to get closer to him, until he gives you a harder pat on the ass. “Now don’t move that cute ass of yours, ‘kay?” He leans over you to place a kiss on your favourite spot on your neck, rewarding himself with a soft, pleased hum of yours. “I- I’ll be good…”

His free hand goes back to caressing your red ass-cheek again while you can feel the tip of the leather crop press against your inner thigh, gently nudging your legs further apart. He then chuckles cheekily, knowing how much you enjoy him playing this role. So, he purposely lowers his voice even more to imitate his gruff, intimidating hunter-mode-tone while he swiftly slaps your inner thigh.

“Buckle up sunshine, you’re gonna get tamed now.”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[cosmicourple]

toot toot‼️‼️‼️‼️ Another A.U Idea!1!!!1!11!1 (heavily inspired by witchofthesouls writing 😚) :

,,,

during Six Hundred Strikes, it turns freaky at the end AKA Odysseus rides the fuck outta’ Poseidon. Everything else after that go’s the same, w/ Ody’ returning home n reuniting with his family, Happily Ever After.

uhhhhh, yeah- except, a few days after reclaiming his title of King, Odysseus is visited by Zeus, who’s been intrigued by this Mortal and all he’s survived + surprisingly unashamed at wanting a piece of the action after witnessing the embarrassed stiff state The King got his brother into,,,, so obviously, like most encounters w/ Zeus, it results in them going at it in a Forest of Ithaca, before Zeus fucks off after said good fuck 👍. Intending to come back 4 more hehehaha now he’ll suffer from the Crippling Obsession of Mortals :33

After a long & agonising recovery, Poseidon storms up to Ithaca, absolutely enraged about what has happened. That Little Shit of a Mortal daring to Power Bottom him after using his own fucking weapon to fucking mutilate him, THEN LETTING HIMSELF BE CLAIMED BY HIS BROTHER!???!?!!!!?!?!? This will NOT stand.

But as he emerges from the seas depths to drown the island along with its wretched king, Poseidon stills because. Because- the inhabitants are gone. Ithaca had been abandoned, stripped of all it’s valuables and left behind,,,

You could hear the grass swaying in that silence.

Poseidon was going to fucking break that bastard. Lmao in more ways than ooooooone haha new side 2 obsession awwwwakeeeeeeeeeened—

iiiiiiiif— he could find him first :).

Him & the entire fucking population of Ithaca.

Cut to seven years of bafflement on what has transpired, confusion on where everyone could of possibly gone, intense wrestling w/ obsessive n certain feelings towards this fucking Lil’ Guy, more confusion as The Ocean, Land & even the bloody Underworld are practically ripped apart to try and find where the fuck The Population of Ithaca could of gone off to.

Normally, The Gods never rlly cared about such an obsessive search, but when an entire fucking society just. Disappears out of nowhere. With absolutely no warning, explanation or any trace of what happened. You start to become very keen to involve urself with such a noticeable event.

For seven years this went on, Humanity also becoming keenly aware of the shift in atmosphere that surrounded The Gods, how they have become Extremely Restless and more Physically Present.

It’s an adjustment, but they get used to it.

Once, seeing Zeus steadily zip across The Sky in a humanoid form, swirling clouds & crackles of electricity shifting around his Divine Body would of been a breathtakingly rare sight of telling something important was happening,,,, now. To be blunt, not many care anymore.

Seven years of tension, worry + some existential retrospect, and then finally.

Poseidon isn’t sure how exactly he found them, maybe The Fates had finally decided to let up on this oh so cruel trickery, or maybe it was The King Himself who weaved this Mysterious Illusion that hid His People, letting it fall down for whatever reason…

But there they were,,, a fleet of strangely designed ships, bobbing along the waves gently, trusting The Winds fully with their aimless course,,,

The Ships were like homes, a neighbourhood, the sounds of day to day lives flowing through the air, merged with the shouts and commands of maintaining said Floating Homes,,,

There were platforms of various sizes connecting some of The Ships, complex looking, with people on them, doing various things that were lost to The Sea God,,,

For his gaze had zeroed in on a platform near the very back, certain sounds of two children playing having caught his attention,,,

His Divine Sight found the little forms of the children, most likely twins, and he felt their squeals of excitement roar over the breeze and the sounds of everything else as he gazed upon them,,,

It seemed his ‘encounter’ with Odysseus had not been without consequences. Nor had his brother’s, bitter as it was to think

Yes, he knew who they were almost right away. Youngest Heirs of Ithaca, Twin Children of King Odysseus, Demigod Children.

One, a boy, ran around the wooden surface, shrieking happily as he chased his sibling, eyes a thundering gold, hair a ruffled mess of curly, spiky and jagged all at the same time and a smile big and potentially insufferable if smug spread on his face…

The other, a girl, also giggled loudly as she speeded away from her brother, both of them running around in a never ending circle, teeth sharp and grinning wide, bright blue eyes focused on the boy, watching gleefully as he pursued her yet never managed to reach.

There they were, his children.

why not claim Both of them as his ? all that matters is that their His..

Yet when he went to converse with them and as they stared at him with big unbothered eyes, watching like stunned canine pups— as he explained who he was to them, laughter filled the air,,,,,

“You’re not our father!”

“Our father is called Odysseus!”

“And our mama is Queen Penelope !”

What. No, they’re his, are they blįnd ?—

“Pśűıțħâ!! , Ħëľíġą!!! , čømě ħęřæ Ÿœũř Fäþħēř īş Wäįťıñğ—-

[paceprompting]

it's raining plastic santas...i mean, men

written for ‘cabin’ and ‘lights’ wc: 1000 # | steddie | rated: g | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: secret relationship, sweet fluff, Hopper's cabin, Christmas decorating

@steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas

Eddie lost track of Steve and Lucas sometime after morning hot chocolate.

El and Max had pulled him into decorating the inside of Hopper’s cabin, from garlands on the banister to a fire-hazard level of lights draping fabric along the walls. He mainly served as the guy to stand on a chair and possibly fall off while being ordered around by two teenagers.

The three kids at the cabin were the only ones they could convince to come a day ahead to get the cabin ready for a Christmas sleepover. Nobody was off in California and no watching over their shoulder for demonic animals or freaky, psychokinetic assholes. They really only wanted to get away from the miles on construction running through Hawkins—and Hopper had offered up his cabin as solace.

Of course, Steve was recruited as babysitter and chauffeur. And Eddie had been in the living room—for no particular reason—when Steve got the call, so he wasn’t going to be left out.

He realized halfway through pinning his fifth drapery-whatever that El could literally move things with her mind, and when he pointed it out, the girls just cackled at him.

“You know what?” Eddie jumped onto the floor from his chair. “I’m taking a smoke break.”

“Edddiiiee,” Max bemoaned, from her very uncomfortable spot laid out in the armchair. She had only stopped directing him from up close when her arms ached from her crutches. “The decorations…”

He laid the armful of fabric they’d shoved at him on Max’s lap, tapping the top of the pile. “It’s so fun, you should give it a try, Red. I’m going to go make sure your boyfriend hasn’t toppled off the roof into a snowbank.”

Max stared at him, mouth in a straight line.

“If you must,” she huffed.

Eddie scrunched his nose at her, since she hated having her hair ruffled, and she rolled her eyes in return.

He took the win and made his way outside.

Max wasn’t the only one with a boyfriend traipsing around on the damn roof.

 Eddie shuddered as he stepped outside, his leather jacket not enough against the cold of northern Indiana. Tucking his arms against his chest, Eddie trekked out into the two inches of snow in his combat boots.

As he stepped off the porch, he shouted, “Sinclair! Harrington! What are we doing?”

“Shit!”

And that was all the warning he got before Santa came tumbling out of the sky and crashed into the snow right at his feet.

Perhaps he shouldn’t shout at the people dealing with the heavy decorations.

With a dignified squawk, Eddie leapt sideways into the snow. He landed on his side, freezing cold immediately bleeding through his sleeve. He stared at the red and white monstrosity that had nearly brained him—two-feet tall and round, the plastic shone in the sun.

Santa’s pink-cheeked face smiled creepily at him.

“You dead?”

Eddie craned his neck up toward the roof to find Lucas’ head tentatively peering over the edge. The multi-colored lights underneath his hands flashed, reflecting the light back on his face. One of the white wire reindeers stood securely beside him.

“Not yet,” he muttered, sticking his hands into the snow to stand. As he got to his feet, Steve came into view, standing far behind Lucas with a strained smile.

He waved bashfully as Eddie scowled.

“You two done?” he called.

Lucas eyed the fallen Santa and shrugged. “I guess so. Steve?”

“Let’s take a break. The girls will probably want us to move stuff around.” Steve and Lucas nodded their agreement, and Steve headed toward the ladder on the far side of the cabin. Lucas took the more direct route, holding tight onto the edge of the mall and then throwing his feet over.

Before Eddie could run over and try to steady him, Lucas dropped to the ground on both feet, completely steady and unbothered, brushing stray snow off his jacket as he headed back inside.

Ridiculous jocks.

His own didn’t give Eddie a heart attack, appearing from the side of the cabin without throwing himself at gravity, hands tucked into his thick winter jacket, head ducked as he watched his step.

“You owe me,” Eddie said when Steve stopped in front of him. “For the near assault with a deadly Santa.”

Steve laughed. “It weighs like six pounds.”

“Thus a worse tragedy it would have been,” Eddie said with a wave of his hand.

No one was aside with them, so Steve sauntered a bit closer, his back to the cabin windows. Eddie raised his brows as Steve’s body warmth radiated a bit onto him, and being theatrically upset with Steve was a lot easier when he didn’t also want to kiss him.

When he it used to be that he couldn’t kiss him.

Steve bit at his bottom lip, his big brown eyes glistening with mischief that was normally Eddie’s forte.

“So, you don’t want me to hang some mistletoe above the bed?” he asked with a teasing lilt.

He and Steve were watching the cabin tonight, while the kids had a regular holiday dinner with their families before heading to the cabin. They already had loose plans for their night alone in the master bedroom.

“I didn’t say that,” Eddie quickly corrected, narrowing his eyes as he tried to devise a proper penance for Steve’s rooftop shenanigans. “But we’re trying the handcuffs tonight.”

“Oh no,” Steve fake-gasped. “What will I do at the mercy of Eddie Munson?”

“I leave you waiting in anticipation, Harrington,” Eddie replied easily.

Steve blushed, even though that wasn’t even close to the craziest thing they’d tried in bed. He always blushed, and then absolutely ruined Eddie for anyone else, over and over.

He’d lucked out, getting to have Steve.

He thought he just might keep him.

“You did a good job, though. Just what this place needed,” he said, leaning into Steve’s shoulder for a long moment—until he heard the trampling of teenage footsteps coming to interrupt.

[herecomethatboi]

Dbd killers x gn!reader pt. 3

Part 3 of mc getting slammed against the wall lol

Guys I need more, feel free to send me any kind of request (nsfw abc, sfw abc, more parts for this silly series etc)you have and i'll gladly write them all :D (when my final exams are finally over hahaha)

Also, I was drunk when I wrote this and I trust drunk-me with writing. He's better at writing than sober-me, so here's an unedited "masterpiece"!

ENJOYYYY 🩷🩷

The Mastermind:

At the start of the match you saw the gray metal box right next to you and knew exactly who you were up against.

You weren't thrilled at all, Wesker or "Mastermind" -as the Entity called him- was such a try hard with his skillful dashes, that you sometimes questioned if he actually was just doing it since "it's better strategy" and not for the fact he enjoys doing stunts like that.

You sighed as you rummaged around the other normal chest you found -since you forgot to equip an item- and found a flashlight, which was perfect.

Then, you heard his little chuckle Wesker does, before he dashes and was swept up immedietly and thrown quite far away.

You groaned at the impact, but got up and ran, the killer close on your tail.

Just in time, you found a pallet and smacked it on top of his head, flashed the flashlight into his face -which usually angers him a lot- and then ran more.

This back and forth between you two continued, and three gens already popped, which you were glad about.

But, alas, your confidence came back to bite you in the ass.

Wesker caught you again, slammed you against the shack, and just kept you there, while he grinned.

"Caught you now." The killer was so so close, your lips almost touched.

He was amused in his own twisted way. An ordinary human made him run so much, but in the end, was caught easily.

"Gonna hook me now?" You squeked out, your throat was held tight with the uwuburos, making breathing difficult.

Awh, you're adorable. A little mouse, if you will. Wesker knew the Entity's rules, but eventually, he will have his fun with you.

Another gen popped.

"Oh no, i'm keeping you here." He said, gave you a little peck on the lips, just to confuse you even further. Nootherreasonwhatareyoutalkingabout.

Then stepped away, but the virus stayed, locking you against the wall. "Your performance was above average. Congratulations." He bowed. "You gained the tiniest respect from me."

He left with a smirk. You tried to claw away the black thing that just didn't seem budge or tear away. So, you gave up. You looked up into the fake dark sky, thinking...

What the Hell did you get into.

The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger):

The dream realm was a tricky thing to navigate in. You sometimes were weirded out by the bloodpools that scared the living shit out of you, when you accidently stepped into them.

Today, there were no generators. Which made you uneasy. What the heck is going on?

You walked into the main building and tried to listen.

Then, the laugh. That annoying, weird, freaky laugh Freddy made, then you were in the dream realm. You looked around, like a deer in headlight. Trying to listen in on the killer.

"What the Hell is going on?" You asked out loud. You turned around and there he was, leaning against a generator that was NOT there a second ago.

"A new game." He simply amswered with a grin. Freddy seemed too happy. "A little gift from the Entity to me."

"Okay, but wha-"

"Shhh shhh shhh let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Khm. So, easy," he leaned away from the gen and stepped toward you, "you find the fake generator, and you win a price!" His grin told you there was a twist.

"If I don't?"

"... you'll know." He said with a childish innocence. "Good luck!" Then he disappeared.

Great.

After God knows how long, you finally found the fake generator. Which made it bleed, just like in normal trials, and Freddy appeared.

"Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it?"

"What the Hell is your game, Freddy?"

"Making out with you."

"What??" Before your shock truely registered, you were up against the bloody generator with him kissing you roughly.

You tried to push against him, but there was no use, of course there wasn't, you mentally rolled your eyes.

So, you just let it happen.

The kiss wasn't... Bad. You sadly had to admit.

Freddy held you surprisingly gently by the waist and neck. But his kiss was bruising and he did bite your lower lip more than once.

You started to actually kiss back and held his waist in one hand, while the other was on his shoulder.

Why were you kissing back? What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't know, but it feels... Right?

Then, you woke up wide eyed. You blinked a thousand times and just stared above you. The roof of your tent cleared up from the blurry image it was. Then you just... Licked you lip, feeling it was dry and had a smoky taste.

WHAT. THE. HELL????

[whyse7vn]

CARDBOARD BOX -

[ ot7 x reader ]

BTW ☠️😂

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

hobi: thinking about when we all lived together and jimin would make jungkook tap dance for food

jk: good times :D

namjoon: but jungkook cant tap dance?

jimin: exactly

namjoon: so you starved jungkook?

jk: no i tapped??

jin: horribly

jk: :(

tae: i liked it

jk: honestly 🥺?

tae: honestly

jk: :D

hobi: why is joon acting like he wasn’t there to witness it???

namjoon: sorry

i just tend to block out the traumatic memories i have with you guys

which is most of them

jin: jungkook was the one dancing for food not you

namjoon: being a witness to that was traumatic

yoongi: it was funny

jk: thank u

yoongi: no

namjoon: moving on

y/n: remember when jungkook would like disappear for 4 hours everyday and come back to the dorms at like 5 am

hobi: OMG YES

jimin: the era where he hated us 😪

yoongi: bring it back

jk: i didn’t hate you guys ☹️

tae: he was just getting his dick wet don’t worry about it

namjoon: he was barley 16?

tae: pussy slayer since 05 😝

namjoon: 05??

yoongi: he was 7 in 05

jin: victim since 05

jimin: jin was like 27 in 05

jin: ??unprovoked

and not fucking true

jimin: as long as you’re alive i’m provoked

y/n: 27 in 05 is crazy

jimin: i’m saying like 😭

hurry up and die maybe?

hobi: bros 31 ☠️

namjoon: ok stop guys

jin: fucking hate all of you

jk: omg it’s raining outside i’m so sad :((

tae: my fault stepped outside and mother nature just couldn’t contain herself

she freaky like that

hobi: paying for ur assassination

jk: what does that even mean

tae: the sky squirting for me bro

jk: oh

that’s nice didn’t know that was possible !!

can you make her stop tho

tae: tell namjoon to step outside and she’ll stop

namjoon: ???

tae: it will be hot and dry as shit if joon steps out ong

jk: namjoon pls step outside

namjoon: kook you need to stop taking tae’s word for things

jk: what

i take no words

i have my own

namjoon: nvm

y/n: life would be so much fun if one of you was a crack addict

jin: ????

yoongi: freak

hobi: real

jimin: namjoon is right here like….

namjoon: leave me ALONE

jk: i’ll be a crack addict for you

tae: i’ll be a better addict

jk: NO YOU WONT

tae: YES I WILL

y/n: shut up

jk: sorry ☺️💕💖

tae: i could so break jungkook’s legs

jk: ☹️

how will i tap?

hobi: you don’t need to tap anymore kook

ur free from that life

y/n: tap by taeyong

jimin: he may be free from tapping in this life but is the tapping life free from him?

yoongi: what

jimin: mentally jungkook is still my little tapping slut

jk: aw man ://

namjoon: did you need to call him a slut??

can we just be nice

jimin: yes i needed to call him a slut

he’s a slut

tae: he was sixteen tapping for you

ur calling a sixteen year old a slut

guys i think jimin is really weird for that actually

jk: me 2

jimin: so?????

you literally said he was fucking at 16 you indirectly called him a slut too

jk: right !!!!

tae: UMM NO???

i called him a pussy slayer actually

and that could mean anything

jk: like what?

tae: shut up jungkook

jk: ok

i’m sorry

it’s still raining

i’m upset

jin: anyways i think yoongi could be nicer

yoongi: ?????

y/n: yoongi’s great

jin: TO YOU

yoongi is actually really really mean and we need to talk about it

jk: i also think yoongi’s great !!

when i was sad about getting old and sick he told me i probably won’t get cancer and most likely die from getting stabbed at 30 on the 12th of december 3pm

namjoon: oh

y/n: yoongi….

yoongi: no cancer !!

jk: NO CANCER ^0^ !!!!!!

tae: yoongi being cold and mysterious will only get you so far in life

jk: yoongi don’t be cold

🔥🔥🔥

here

y/n: jungkook ur so silly

where are you

i want to bite you

jk: 😳

OMW HOME I PROMISE

WON’T BE LONG I SWEAR

jimin: take me back to the days where you had to buy bitches 46 plots of land and a horse to get pussy

i can’t do this being dumb ass hell shit

hobi: maybe ur just ugly idk??

jimin: ????

yo wtf

hobi????????????

hobi: who said that not me whatttt?

jin: that’s why taemin has jimin blocked

jimin: HE DOES NOT HAVE ME BLOCKED

yoongi: woah ok?

jimin: just saying

anyways

jin: ur ugly 😂

jk: beauty is subjective

yoongi: do you even know what that means?

jk: yes ofc ??

maybe…

no 😔

tae: subjective sex

namjoon: stop

tae: SUBJECT SEX

i class i would love to participate in

y/n: is this you telling us you don’t know how to have sex???

tae: NO

this is me telling you i love sex and partake in it often

hobi: stds

jk: i’m confused

why do you want to take a class on it then ???

y/n: right

you wanting to take a sex class implies you know little on the subject of sex actually

tae: SHUT THE HELL UP

jimin: nothing about my beauty is subjective btw

it’s fact

jin: that ur ugly

yoongi: lol

jimin: namjoon tell them i’m not ugly

namjoon: guys he’s not ugly

jin: he’s really ugly

y/n: namjoon tell tae to stop shouting

namjoon: taehyung stop shouting

tae: NO

NAMJOON TELL KOOK AND Y/N I KNOW HOW TO FUCK

namjoon: kook y/n taehyung knows how to fuck

hobi: namjoon i wont lie to you but u lowkey a bitch

jin: right

namjoon: thank you for that hobi and jin i also love you very much

jk: ohmygod joon loosing his mind again

that is NOT what they said

joon come back to us

fight this namjoon fight it

hobi: fighting by bss

yoongi: who fighting?

jimin: joon and his crippling coke addiction

coke winning

namjoon: can we not

tae: i’ll laugh when you overdose

y/n: exo core

namjoon: i just helped you what is ur issue??

jin: do you notice how yoongi appeared again when the word fighting was said????

we NEED to have this man locked up i’m telling you

yoongi: i’ll have you sectioned

jin: WHAT THE FUCK?????

NAMJOON TELL HIM TO TAKE THAT BACK

namjoon: yoongi take that back

please

yoongi: i take it back

jin: good

yoongi: not

jk: yikes jin he got you

yoongi ur really cool

yoongi: shut up

jk: sorry 😆

y/n: stop being mean

yoongi: cant help it :3

tae: who wants to see me split a watermelon with one hand

jk: ME ME

OHMYGOD ME I DO I DO

I WANT TO SEE

PLEASE SHOW ME PLEASE BEOFRE I PASSED OUT PLEASE

PICK ME TAE I WANT TO SEE ME MEMEMEMEMEMEMMEMEME

hobi: tae how is ur financial situation these days

tae: kill yourself

hobi: ok wtf???

i was just asking

tae: jungkook im sorry but no broken watermelon today blame hoseok

jk: hobi what the hell man i was really looking forward to the broken watermelon

y/n: i heard tae filed for bankruptcy

tae: NOT TRUE

jimin: i heard he lives in a cardboard box

tae: SHUT UP I DONT

jk: tae omg……… 😧

is this true

tae: NO OBVIOUSLY NOT

YOU WERE AT MY HOUSE YESTERDAY

AND I ORDERED US FOOD

jk: pls dont shout at me

i’m trying to remember if your house was a cardboard box or not

jimin: (it was)

tae: NAMJOON

namjoon: guys

jimin: ur no fun

y/n: sorry 😔

tae: yeah

you guys better be sorry

stupid idiots

jimin: shut up broke boy

namjoon: jimin please

jimin: whatEVER

tae: namjoon i don’t say this a lot because normally it wouldn’t be true but man i love you

guys i think me and namjoon were married in our past lives

cuz like were so in tune with each other

like he just gets me

i get him

i believe in every life we find each other

like we get married in every single life except this one

namjoon: no offence but in every life i would find you and divorce you if that were true

tae: oh

y/n: LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yoongi: lol

jimin: no i see it the crack addict and the broke bitch love story

tae: at least someone gets it

nvm

should of read the whole message first

u guys are just closed minded

im telling you me an namjoon are like super alike someone thought i was him yesterday and he was so real and right for that

jk: i thought you said that guy that called you rm in the park yesterday was a racist not real or right

tae: jungkook

jk: yeah ^0^

tae: stop talking rn

jk: okay😵

hobi: cocaine is like really expensive how would tae and joon work out

tae wont be able to help feed into joons addiction

y/n: why do you know that cocaine is expensive

hobi: i know a lot of things that just happenes to be one of them

jimin: if you think about it when have you ever seen a crackhead be like nah im not gonna have crack today

they make that shit happen no matter what

and i think thats what attracts tae and joon together

like joon will do anything and everything to get his fix and tae would do anything and everything to have a place to sleep so their hardworking nature is what leads them to love

yeah

jin: ok !!!!!!

jimin i think you need a hobby or something

that was…. a lot

yoongi: shut up

jin: WHAT DID I DO???? AM I WRONG OR DID YOU ACTUALLY ENJOY JIMINS MINI FANFIC LIKE?????????

yoongi: i’ll punch you

jin: and i believe that!

shutting up #now

hobi: i wish i was mark lee rn

he probably doing something really canadian as we speak

jk: like what?

hobi: idk being nice

jimin: you called me ugly five minutes ago

you could never be mark lee

hobi: that literally wasn’t me i have no idea what ur talking about sorry i’m actually mark lee rn so i fr don’t know what ur talking about dude sorry dude i have to go on stage and dance with nct 127 now and then i have vocal practice with nct dream right after so i’m sorry dude i like have zero idea what ur talking about like actually like a sticker 2 baddies beatbox

me as mark lee and scene

jk: 10/10 really believable idk mark lee but i really though you were him for a second

y/n: great performance thought mark was here fr almost kissed you passionately on the mouth

yoongi: what

hobi: thank u thank u

you can still kiss me tho haha lol as mark or not idm

y/n: ok omg come here!!!

hobi: FR?????

y/n: no !!!!!!

but i did imagine us kissing like last week for like five seconds

hobi: yesssss 🙌 😝

a win is a win

yoongi: its not a win

she threw up at the thought

y/n: no i didn’t

yoongi: yes you did

you told me

y/n: i DID’NT

stop trying to gaslight me

it wont work

tae: have you imagined me naked

jimin: liked it better when you weren’t talking

tae: i liked it when YOU weren’t talking

jimin: shut the fuck up

jin: how about you both shut the fuck up

jimin: now why are YOU talking again

yoongi beat the shit out of him

yoongi: nah dont want to

the thought of his face isn’t pissing me off anymore

jin: thank you <3

yoongi: i could punch hoseok tho

hobi: no thank you ???

y/n: yoongi has a framed picture of all of us on his bedside table that he hides whenever you all come over in case you find it

he also has each one of our debut photocards in a small little binder in his studio in a little safe

yoongi: not true bye

yoongi left “BTW☠️😂”

y/n added yoongi to “BTW☠️😂”

y/n: very true very real seen them with my very two eyes

yoongi: you wear glasses

that you don’t actually wear

so who knows what u be seeing

that is NOT true

y/n: i wear glasses to READ and you know that

so shut up

guys yoongi would punch none of you because he loves you very much ok? 😍💖💯

tae: yoongi do you kiss our picture goodnight be honest

yoongi: fuck off actually

namjoon: thats very sweet yoongi

we love you too

jin: i DON’T

i fear my life when i’m around yoongi picture by his bed or not

i’m shaking in my boots i’m scared

yoongi: pussy

jin: i’m telling you ever since he broke that poor woozi guys nose i have not looked at him the same

y/n: ok but that was a mistake right yoongi

yoongi: ?

y/n: it was

and besides has yoongi broken your nose?

jin: no but it’s coming

i know it

yoongi: true

jk: i feel safe around yoongi

yoongi: you shouldn’t

jk: because he hasn’t broken my nose

but jimin did punch me once

jimin: dont bring up my past

hobi: if we think about it jimin should be locked up

jungkook you can press charges you know?

jimin: CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT ME AND WHAT I’VE DONE

like we were talking about how yoongi actually love us

lets get back to that

yoongi: jimin should be put behind bars

jimin: yoongi loves us

yoongi: jimin is a bully

jimin: YOONGI LOVES US

tae: i love you back yoongi

yoongi: kill yourself

jimin is a literal bully like actually

jimin: and ur a fake one cuz u love us

jk: jimin you are bully

yoongi: ur right jungkook

you are so right

jimin: jungkook yoongi loves you

that’s why he’s agreeing with you

jk: i love you too yoongi ^0^

yoongi: jungkook jimin is bullying you

has been since you were 16

jk: ohmygod……..

jimin: jungkook yoongi has a photocard of you that he’s probably decorated and everything just cuz he cares so deeply about you

jk: he does????????

namjoon: ok both of you stop

jimin you ARE a bully

and yoongi its ok that you actually like us you should stop pretending you don’t

jimin: I AM NO BULLY

yoongi: i like not one of u 😒

namjoon: yeah ok

jk: GUYS OHMUGOD

tae DOES LIVE IN A CARDBOARD BOX I REMEMBER NOW 🤯🤯😨

tae left “BTW☠️😂”

—

think of this as a flash back/ forward idk of the good happy times ok? ok thank u >_<

sorry for the shit ending i just really like the first part and wanted to post

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 2.5k | tags: different first meeting, emotional hurt/comfort | summary: What happens when Steve meets Eddie Munson, who has just failed his senior year for the first time, during one of his nightly drives? | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is asking, "do you want a blanket?" by @thefreakandthehair | AO3)

Steve's life was completely turned upside down (theoretically he sees the humor in this, but in practice the trauma trumps the pun) six months and six days ago when he came face-to-face with a honest-to-God inter-dimensional monster and barely survived to not tell the tale thanks to an airtight and frankly scary NDA.

He should be over it by now, right? He shouldn't be waking up screaming, drenched in his own sweat and shaking all over, his heart racing in his chest and his stomach in his throat.

Right.

Well, he's not. He doesn't get over it. The nightmares don't go away. If anything, he feels like they're getting worse, his mind adding horrible details and things that didn't happen, but could have, to keep torturing him.

He's a fucking mess.

Steve Harrington is a mess. His grades are slipping, on their way to joining his social status at rock bottom, and even his performance as co-captain of the swim team and basketball team is suffering from lack of sleep.

The only thing he has going for him is Nancy. Nancy, who doesn't understand that Steve just wants to get over the horror and the paranoia, just wants his life back, just wants to be normal again.

She doesn't say it outright, but he knows she thinks he's selfish, too self-centered to care about anything but himself. Sure, he's made amends with Jonathan and cut ties with Tommy and Carol, but deep down, Nancy doesn't think he's changed all that much. He's not Jonathan, he's not mature and monosyllabic and introspective. Just dumb little Steve, pretty to look at but not much else to offer.

These are the things he ponders during his late-night drives when another nightmare keeps him awake. It's impossible to fall asleep with terror pumping through his veins, so instead he climbs into his car and just drives. Some nights he will drive for hours, music playing softly from one of his tapes, Queen, Springsteen, Tears For Fears, Bon Jovi.

Tonight his drive takes him to the edge of town, right where a dirt road leads to the quarry. Steve has no idea why, but something makes him actually leave the main road and turn onto it. He follows it where it leads into the woods, slowing down on the bumpy road until he sees the dense cluster of trees open up to reveal a glimpse of the starry night sky. The path seems to open up into a clearing, and just there, to the right, Steve spots an old van.

He knows the car, has seen it often enough in the parking lot of Hawkins High to know that it belongs to none other than Eddie Munson, local drug dealer and freak.

At least that's what everyone keeps calling him, and sure, the guy seems a little weird, with his speeches on cafeteria tables, his dramatic antics in and out of class. He certainly doesn't look like most of the other kids, with his ripped jeans (clearly from wear and tear rather than fashion sense), long, unruly curls, and loud shirts advertising bands Steve has never heard of. People also shit on him for his father and for living in a trailer park, but none of that sounds particularly freaky to Steve.

Knowing what he does now, though, it worries him to think of Munson all alone out here where anything could happen to him. He doesn't know Munson, just about him, but Steve couldn't live with himself if he came to school on Monday and found Munson missing. One person has already died because of his carelessness, and no one deserves to suffer the same fate as Nancy's friend Barb.

Parking his car right next to Munson's, Steve climbs out and walks around the car to the trunk to pick up the nail bat that saved his life and the lives of Nancy and Jonathan. Then he makes his way to the opening of the clearing ahead.

Stepping out of the trees, Steve stops to take in the sight before him.

Above him stretches the inky expanse of the night sky, a seemingly endless void painted with a myriad of distant stars. The moonlight danced along the jagged edges of the quarry, revealing the vastness of the rocky landscape below in a silvery glow. The only sound that broke the silence of the night was the occasional soft rustle of leaves. The air was crisp and clean, carrying with it a hint of earthiness from the rocky terrain. In this secluded enclave, far from the lights of the city, the stars were front and center, and Steve felt unbelievably small.

With his shoulders hunched over his ears and his arms slung protectively around his knees, the figure sitting on the edge of the cliff looks even smaller than he feels.

It seems that Munson didn't even hear his car approaching, and that makes Steve's hair stand on end because it means that anyone, anything could have snuck up on him. It's not safe.

Steve approaches cautiously, trying his best not to startle the other boy and cause him to fall to his certain death.

"Munson?" He asks softly, quietly, but to no avail. It still causes Munson to flail in surprise, and only Steve's quick reflexes keep him from falling over the edge. With his knees still smarting from the sudden drop to the ground, Steve has his arm wrapped around the other boy, and both of them are panting from the shock.

"Fuck, man, are you trying to kill me?" Munson's voice quavers too much to be truly biting.

Steve carefully loosens his grip on Munson and leans back to sit on his haunches. Running a slightly trembling hand through his hair, he can't help but bite back. "If you paid more attention to what was going on around you, you would have heard me coming. I wasn't really trying to be subtle. It's like you want to get killed."

Munson scoots away from the edge of the cliff and climbs to his feet to look down at Steve and the nail bat he dropped when he made a grab for the other boy. He raises a judgmental eyebrow, causing Steve's defenses to go up in an instant.

They look at each other, brown meeting hazel, until Munson breaks the silence. "By someone walking around with a nail-studded bat, you mean?"

"I wasn't going to hit you with it!" And crap, abort Harrington, abort.

Now both eyebrows look at him questioningly. "And who, pray tell, pissed off King Steve enough to deserve this kind of treatment?"

"No one! For God's sake, I thought you might be in danger and wanted to be prepared in case you were." Then he adds, "After what happened to Will Byers and Barbara Holland, you'd think people in this town would be more careful instead of hanging out in the woods in the middle of the night."

Ed-No, Munson's eyes soften at his explanation. "Shit, sorry man. You're right, I guess." Shuffling his feet, he offers his own explanation for his harsh reaction. "Just had a shitty day, I guess. I shouldn't have bitten your head off for trying to look out for me. Although I never thought King Steve would ride in on his white horse to save the school freak from unimaginable evil."

"White horse? What, like a knight? Does that make you the damsel in distress, Munson?"

Munson gets a strange look on his face at Steve's words, and before he knows what's happening, the guy pretends to faint right into his arms. He catches him just before he hits the ground and feels how cold the boy's body is in his thin t-shirt. "My savior," Munson croons, and Steve rolls his eyes at his antics. Still not a freak, but definitely weird.

Instead of dignifying this with an answer, Steve says, "You're freezing, man. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night anyway?"

Dark brown eyes search his, and Steve thinks he's never seen such expressive eyes. He can read a myriad of emotions in them and he doesn't even know the guy. Sadness, caution, defeat, and something he's seen in the mirror a lot in the last few months: fear.

"I bet you have better things to do than listen to my sad little problems. Can't imagine you're just running around town rescuing damsels in distress now, I'm sure you have places to be, a kingdom to rule..."

"Could you just drop the whole 'King Steve' crap, man? I'm not him. Not anymore. Even if nobody seems to have gotten the memo."

"Okay, woah, sorry, man. I didn't know this was such a touchy subject."

"Do you want me to call you a freak and make assumptions about you based solely on high school gossip?"

"I don't know, don't you?"

"I'm trying not to. You don't have to tell me what's going on if you don't want to. I'm just saying... I know what it's like when you can't stand lying in your bed staring at the ceiling any longer. Wanting to get out and leave whatever it is that's bothering you behind, but no matter how fast you drive, it keeps catching up with you."

He's rambling, he knows he is, he didn't plan on unburdening his heart to Eddie Munson of all people, but here they are.

"I failed senior year." Eddie finally admits in a small voice, not meeting Steve's eyes.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Fuck, man. That sucks. Can you repeat it?"

"Sure. But I... God, everyone was right all along. I'm a failure, a fuckup. Just like my dad. A good-for-nothing waste of space. I haven't even told Wayne, I can't stand the look in his eyes when I tell him". There are tears in Eddie's eyes and Steve's heart breaks for him.

"Fuck!" Eddie shouts across the quarry and a flock of birds takes flight somewhere in the nearby woods. He's shaking again, and this time it's not from the adrenaline. Steve can't really take away any of the things that are weighing on Eddie, but he can offer him something else.

"Do you want a blanket?"

Eddie's doe eyes blink at him slowly, as if he's not sure he heard him right.

"You're only wearing a T-shirt, you must be cold." Eddie doesn't deny it. "Let me get you a blanket, then."

Another slow blink, and then, "If you're...sure?"

Steve gives him a smile that he hopes is warm and reassuring. "I'm sure." He walks over to his BMW and takes the nail bat with him, exchanging it for the blanket that he keeps in the trunk of his car at all times. Tommy H. calls it the "baby maker blanket," which is so typical of Tommy that Steve wonders why he was hanging out with him at all. Maybe because he was a friend to Steve when no one else would be.

But maybe he won't tell Eddie about the blanket's history. Anyway, it's freshly washed and smells only of his detergent.

Handing it to the boy, Steve says, "There you go," before turning to walk back to his car.

"Where are you going?"

When Steve turns back, Eddie is sitting on the ground with the blanket around his shoulder, one end held open as if inviting Steve to join him.

"Back home?" It's not supposed to sound like a question, but some of his reluctance to leave seeps into it anyway. He doesn't want to go home to his empty house and bed, afraid to close his eyes in case the nightmares come back.

"Look, you don't have to, of course, but if you want, you can stay and tell me what brought you here in the middle of the night. Or not. We could just sit here in silence, totally fine with me."

Steve snorts, because even though this is the first time he's had a conversation with Eddie, he can already tell that silence doesn't come easy to him.

"If you're sure," he repeats Eddie's words back to him as he makes his way over to him.

"I'm sure," Eddie says firmly, wrapping the blanket around Steve as soon as he sits down next to him.

Many things surprised Steve that night, but most of all how comfortable the silence between him and Eddie had felt as they watched the stars until they gave way to the rising sun.

They never talked about that night again, the polite nods in the halls all the acknowledgment they allowed for what had happened.

But when Steve walks across the stage to receive his diploma in 1985, he notices Eddie's absence and his heart aches for him. He had been looking forward to seeing Eddie walk across the stage next to him, to give him a smile, a wink. Maybe even ask him out for a celebratory beer, if he's being completely honest with himself.

The sad truth is: Steve had no one to spend his graduation with, no girlfriend, no friends, just a 13-year-old know-it-all whose bedtime didn't really allow for any kind of grown-up celebration. Eddie was his only hope of not being alone tonight.

That's probably why he's heading out to the quarry again that night, bat and blanket in tow.

It's a shot in the dark, and at the same time it's not. Because there Eddie is, sitting on the edge again, small and defeated, and just as alone as Steve. Without a word, Steve joins him on the ground and wraps the blanket around them both.

"I'm sorry."

Eddie's warm weight settles against him. "Me too." Silence falls between them, and Steve thinks that's all they'll say, but then Eddie nudges his shoulder with his own and says, "I'm sorry, too. About Wheeler."

"Me too."

Steve thinks that even if he's not a poet, there's something symbolic in the way they both watch the sun rise again over the quarry.

The next time he wrapped the blanket around Eddie, it was again in the middle of the night. Only this time, Eddie is unconscious in the back of his car while Steve races to the hospital, praying to any God who will listen that this will not be the last time.

It isn't. Not by a long shot. Getting the blood out is not easy, but with Joyce's help he manages. The blanket is there when physical therapy is especially grueling, when they both sit on the porch of Eddie's new trailer, Steve holding Eddie under the blanket's protective cover.

It's there when Steve moves in with the Munsons and gets a special place on Eddie's bed, though they never make love on it. The blood was hard enough to get out, and the material doesn't look like it can take much more deep cleaning.

They take it with them when they move to their apartment in Chicago, and it's there for every bad day either of them has.

Their blanket finds its final purpose, however, with the arrival of their daughter, April. From the day their little bundle of joy moves in with them, she sleeps wrapped in the foundation of Steve and Eddie's love.

Steve may not be a poet, that's Eddie's job, but he appreciates the symbolism all the same.

[slayerinthetardis]

Can't believe how fuckin' hard the Dungeons and Daddies crew went in their first episode of season 2.

Anthony Burch really said "the breakfast club but in a post apocalyptic wasteland where the sky is blood red and the sun is black," they fought a terrifying humanoid monster baby, had terrible visions of their dads (and step-dads) being hurt and held against their wills, found out that magic existed and they had access to it, then had even more terrifying visions of Akira-ed kindergarters. And it ended with a terrifying monster on a treadmill and a challenge to speed run life.

Like, the rowdy, horny, violent podcast for grown-ups warning was really not messing around here. They were like, time to fuck around with some freaky cosmic horror shit. Also these teens are perfect.

[kairiscorner]

what if miguel and y/n switched bodies for a day bc of sum villain that put a spell on them or smth imagine how weirded out the hq would be to see miguel smiling and all cheerful just not being his usual self 💀💀 and y/n being grumpy and petty

HFIREOGHRJTNVEIFBBREUFI BOO, I ... you have awoken my younger self's love for freaky friday (yeah i liked that movie as a kid BWAHHAHAHAHAH) anyway, I LOVE THAT

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

being in your shoes. — miguel o'hara x reader

"wow... i'm a fucking statue come to life." said miguel's awestruck voice with a chuckle following his statement of disbelief. he admired his palms, then his knuckles and the backs of his hands and arms—every vein and every curve, groove, and bump of his muscular arms were just a sight to behold; and the way his fists looked when clenched, and the way his fingers unfolded like the blooming petals of a flower... it was too much for your heart to handle, which, in this case, was technically his heart—anatomically speaking. as he admired the beauty of, well, himself–you went up to him with widened eyes, which quickly morphed into a scowl. "this is... humiliating." your own voice muttered in a low voice, almost as a growl, but miguel chuckled and ruffled your hair. "ooh," the big man let out a soft sound of curiosity at the discovery that he was practically twice your size.

he pressed his elbow down onto your head, making you–rather, miguel–grumble at this act of degradation and disrespect upon shorter people. "wow, y'know, i wouldn't blame you for doing this to me if we ever got back to normal. hell, i don't even want to go back to normal! have you seen this body?" you asked him aloud with a chuckle, his own chuckle that was hardly ever heard, reverberating out into the atmosphere and making the you inside of his body swoon. "stop laughing, it's not funny, this is a cause for concern." he said with your voice as he folded your arms over your chest and glared at you, instinctively pouting despite his lips not appearing as pouty on purpose anymore.

"oh, shit, you do pout?" you asked him with a chuckle that made you giggle internally. miguel didn't appreciate how you abused his laugh so much that he grumbled and turned on his heel–in this scenario, it was your heel–and stormed out of his office as you remained there; admiring his wonderful body and flexing, asking lyla to take pictures of this rare moment when the photo shots of miguel are candid but also taken with such flare that you'd think he was crazy for agreeing to this–the miguel o'hara everyone knew was... nothing like this.

as you walked down the halls in a pink compression shirt and yoga volleyball shorts, as opposed to the usual spider suit miguel donned on every day–you smiled at everyone you met, even if they didn't greet you first–stunning and shocking everyone out of their minds. wide-eyed lenses and hung open mouths greeted you as you greeted them with a warm smile that nobody had ever witnessed before. it was like an silver lining had unexpectedly shown through as the eternal, dark and thunderous clouds tore the sky asunder and welcomed the first rays of sunshine that the spider society had sworn they saw before... on you. but that sunshine was replaced by a gray rainy day hovering over your head and furrowed eyebrows that didn't complement your soft, adorable, amicable face.

whenever anyone greeted you, with miguel in your body, he'd practically growl at them to a loud silence–he'd nod without even looking anybody's way, confusing everyone into thinking you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today or something really bad had happened to you. as everyone went over to you, patting your shoulder, asking you if you're okay–he's scream in your higher pitched voice that you were just peachy.

everyone was astonished at how boldly angry and furious you were being, and at how boldly sweet and darling miguel was being today–everyone kept referencing that a freaky friday situation must've happened to you two, with only miguel in your body explaining that was exactly the situation, but they all laughed it off as a joke, since it came out of your mouth. "yeah, pequeña–oh, fuck, that sounds sexy–yeah, uh, chiquita–you're acting out of your mind right now, darl." "darl?!" your voice snarled in an angry, squeaky voice, making miguel chuckle and ruffle your hair again. "so sweet for me, chiquita." you said in miguel's voice, teasing him in your body as he grumbled.

oh, this was not gonna be fun for him, at all... but it was gonna be way, way too much fun for you.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[beetled-juice]

Pink Cloud

@frog-scream your post shook the cobwebs from my brain, so please accept my humble offering of my take on your idea.

I wrote this in 20 minutes at 5 in the morning btw, please forgive me

NSFW content is implied in this, but you don't actually get any (unlike Beej)

It was only after you’d both fallen onto the bed more naked than clothed that you noticed the curtains were open.

At first you’d tried to pry him off of you so you could get up and close them, mortified at the idea of the neighbors seeing something they shouldn’t, but Beetlejuice can be very persuasive when he chooses to be. His hands had traced up and down your sides, and his mouth had quickly captured yours to stop any protesting on your part. The feeling of him pressed up against you coupled with the few extra hands incessantly tugging at your remaining clothing had distracted you enough to forget about the window, and instead you fell back into the gentle heat sparking between you.

It was only now as you both tried to catch your breath that you saw the open curtains again. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed, or to even care if someone had seen anything - not so long as you had Beetlejuice sprawled out on the bed next to you. His fingers were absentmindedly tracing patterns along your skin, and he was chattering away about something that probably wasn’t best suited for “pillow talk”. Looking past him to the window, you could see the last rays of the day’s light casting a pink and orange glow on the clouds as they floated past. The room was now lit with the warm glow of early evening, softening the edges of everything as it filled the space. A quick glance back at Beetlejuice quickly turned into unabashed staring as you realized that his hair was the same blush pink as the sky. You wanted nothing more than to reach out and bury your hands in it, wondering if it would feel the same as if you were touching the clouds.

“…and then, I possessed the frogs an-, wait, babes, are you listening? The kid's bio class loved this shit!” Shaken from your thoughts, you reached forward to pull him into a slow and gentle kiss. You slipped your fingers up into his hair, scratching at his scalp before threading the strands between your fingers. While they were definitely greasier and more gunk-filled than a cloud could ever be, they had a silky softness that so perfectly embodied their cotton candy color. Breaking the kiss with a quiet sigh, you pulled away to settle back on the bed. Beetlejuice still had his eyes closed, but after a moment he slowly blinked them open.

“What was that about?” he asked, his dark eyes wide as he melted into your side. Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer.

“Oh nothing, just… you were right not to close the curtains,” you said, pressing a kiss to his still-pink hair.

“Oh, is that why you were so worked up? The thought of people seeing us do it? Babes, I knew you had a freaky side just waiting to come out! Hey, next time we could have the window open too, give the neighbors a little audio with the visual if you get what I mean.” Rolling your eyes, you let him ramble on about the inappropriate and potentially illegal things he’d like to try, all the while watching as the pink faded from the sky. Though the sun was rapidly setting and taking its light with it, you were content to hold your own personal pink cloud in your arms for the rest of the night.

[kiradrabbles]

Love story - yandere ticci toby x reader chapter 1

cw: stalking, obsessive behaviour, graphic depictions of violence (no shit), and Toby being a total freaky weirdo. Not explicit non-con yet.

No good deed ever goes unpunished. One late night trip to a convenience store you decide to help a man who knocks over some cans. Toby can't get his mind off you, now. And when he finally finds something that helps him get his mind off the raging in his head and the operators grasp on him, he won't let it go.

AKA. Toby is delusional, horny, and totally obsessed with you. Without further adieu... with a horrendous word count of 4000+....

Chapter 1: Meet cute

To say toby had no idea when his infatuation with you started would be a lie, he knew exactly when it started. He knew it down to the hour, the minute, the second. How could he forget the moment he met you after all? It was like a romance, one of those rom-com meet cutes. His own sappy love story with his own perfectly happy ending.

It was a cold night, he couldn't precisely remember the time, sure, but he knew the stars were up in the sky, and that it was the midst of winter as there was snow dusting the ground. Colorado's winters were cold - and as it was cold, Toby got stuck with doing the supply runs. As was apparently "fair". Because of his CIPA he couldn't feel cold (or heat), which meant any time the weather conditions were slightly less-than desirable it was his job to go half-buy half-shoplift the food the mansions residents needed for the next few days. At least, those that didn't eat human flesh.

Not that he really minded. He'd take any chance he could to get out of the mansion for a while, taking Tim's car - an old beaten up Land Rover they had stolen from a victim years ago - and speeding along the highways to the nearest store. Well, not speeding. He was always cautious in cars - he had his reasons.

And it was in one of those convenience stores where he first saw you, memory engraved into his mind forevermore.

You were beautiful that was for sure. Specks of snow sprinkled over your hair and face, light glinting off them as you made your way into the store, still shivering from the cold as you stopped in you tracks, soaking in the sudden warmth. The harsh lighting just seemed to frame you, like a halo of sorts, a spotlight sending his attention screaming to you. He couldn't tear his eyes away. Something about you distracted him, If just for a second, from the chaos in his head. The voices and the constant war of emotions died down, to make room for a new emotion. One he hadn't felt in years.

Love.

Toby knew it was love - what else could it be? His heart was pounding in his chest, he felt giddy with what must be affection as he stared at you. He wasn't used to the feeling, but what he knew was it was better than any temporary high his missions could give him, sharp as an axe and twice the rush.

You must have noticed his staring, because by the time he came to his senses and focused again you had met his gaze, head tilted with a nervous half-smile on your perfect face. He had made you smile. A nervous one, but yet a smile, nonetheless.

A sharp crack sounded as his neck jerked, bringing him screeching back to reality, breaking the eye contact and bringing his gaze down to his poorly bandaged hands. Oh, how he wished he dressed better.

He hadn't even bothered to throw on a bandage on his face to cover his gash, instead opting for a single-use blue face mask Jack had lying around. The hoodie he was donned had thumb holes ripped into the cuffs, and he hoped like hell it wasn't one of the ones with obnoxious blood stains. He couldn’t see any on the front, but he would not put it past him to somehow have some sprayed on his back, he got pretty.. Brutal when in the zone.

The next time he looked back to you, you were bent over a little, looking down at some energy drinks. He allowed his eyes to drift over you, taking in everything. Before he could take out his phone and take a photo - not in a strange way, of course, just to remember the occasion - he ticced. At the most inconvenient time possible, naturally. 'Birdie!' he chirped out, followed by a bird whistle, which sent you looking behind yourself in startled confusion, and Toby's gaze to his hands once again.

He continued skirting around you for the next minute or so, before it happened. He was kneeled down, looking at the drinks you were looking at before, imagining sharing one with you, hands brushing each other’s. Toby could finish it in one gulp, seeing you pout, then cup your face and kiss it into your mouth, watching you squeal and close your eyes, lean into him. Some might argue this was too soon, or strange to imagine, but Toby knew it wasn't. He was in love with you, after all, so it was normal.

He was brought out of those pleasant daydreams by a loud clatter, looking down. He'd knocked some drinks off the shelf.

"Fuh-fuck." he cursed quietly

He reached down to fetch them, but someone got to it first - you got to it first. Your hands were so small as they picked it up, he wanted to cup them in his hands and kiss them, feel your soft skin against his own, callous and scarred.

"Th-thanks" he muttered, looking down at you again as he rose up to his full hight, a few inches taller than you are. "S-sorry about that, I have tour- wow! - Tourette’s. I have Tourette’s."

"It's fine" you gave a little smile, nervously picking at your hands. "Don't worry about it."

The first thing that struck him was your voice. It was.. Perfect. It suited you perfectly. He wanted to play it on loop, set it as his ringtone, his new favourite song.

The second? You didn't judge him for his Tourette’s. Of course, you didn't, you were perfect. You were made for him; you wouldn't judge him for anything like that. You weren't like anybody else. He wanted then more than anything to take you in his arms right there, lift you up and take you back to the mansion, to his room, hide you from the rest of the world, have you all to himself. Instead, he waited behind you at the checkout, taking in the faint smell of you, trying to keep a handle on his ticcing and twitching, at least when you were there.

When it was his turn he barely looked at the cashier, slapping a wad of cash on the table and watching him sort through it, bowing his head a little under tobies harsh gaze, snatching the change as soon as it was handed to him. He couldn't lose you, let you get too far, he had to keep track of you.

He tracked you like he would a victim, trailing behind you in the Land Rover, just far behind enough you wouldn't register it, a few cars back. He followed you to an apartment block, parking across the road, watching as you exited the car, oblivious to the eyes of your future lover trailing you.

Thankfully for him you were on the first floor, obvious from the way light visible in one of the windows turned on a few seconds after you entered the building. He made a mental note of the room you stayed in and pulled out from the car park, making his way back to the mansion. It would be suspicious if he came back too late. He would come back for you, though. He had to.

And that he did. He started with simple things, waiting outside the apartment for you to leave and trailing you, learning your routines, your most visited locations, anything about you he could pick up. You liked to read, adorable. He would love to read with you, having your tiny form on his lap, book in hand, resting against him. But until then he would settle for entering the bookstore after you, trailing his hands over the shelves he knew you touched.

It was through this book-store that he finally found your name. His lovers name. He was skulking around the shelves just out of your view, watching you, and occasionally taking a quick photo, with the new phone he had recently brought. More modern than the last one - not just because he needed a better one to film you with, but the decent camera really didn't hurt.

 Not in a creepy, stalker way of course. He was sure if he sat down and asked you, you really wouldn't mind.

"Oh, Sidney!" You called, waving to a girl at the counter. You knew her? "Hey!"

"Oh, hey [Y/N]."

[Y/N]. That was your name. His [Y/N], soon to be [Y/N] Rogers. He felt giddy with delight.

He didn't stop there, either. As time passed, as he memorised your routine, the shitty movie theatre you worked at, your favourite stores and café's and places to be, he started to know when you would and wouldn't be in your apartment. And what good proxy didn’t know how to lockpick?

Your apartment smelt like you, that was the first thing that struck him. A light, airy sort of scent, that he just couldn't get enough of. He found himself leaning down, opening a drawer and taking a long sniff. It looked like mostly fresh laundry, hoodies and shorts.

He had time; he knew that much. You wouldn't return from your job at that crappy local movie theatre for at least another 3 hours. It was a decent enough job, he supposed, though his skin crawled at the thought of you getting hit on or yelled at by customers. He had had half a mind to follow you and wait just outside, to give anyone who gave you a hard time or even looked at you funny a piece of his mind. He refrained, for now however, deciding instead to make the most of his time and spending it getting as close to you as physically possible. Speaking of close..

As he rummaged through your drawers, he came across one with more.. Intimate content. Underwear, it looked like. Your underwear. He reached his hands into the dresser, taking out a bra almost reverently. This had touched your skin, and not just your skin. Your breasts. He was indirectly touching your breasts. His face was burning and his heart was pounding as he held it, grinning so wide it would have hurt if he could feel pain.

He set it back down in the drawer as another thing caught his eye, what looked like a matching set. Lacy black panties and a skimpy black bra. He hadn't imagine you'd own something like that, but he wasn't complaining. Quite the opposite in fact. He'd ask you to wear it for him when you two were together, but for now, his imagination would suffice. He stuffed a pair of panties he was sure you wouldn't miss into your pocket, and turned to look at the rest of the room.

Over the next week or so, he made himself at home when you weren't there. It was as if he was your lover, your live in boyfriend. He used your toothbrush, laid in your bed, next to where you would lay, imagining your sleeping form lying next to his. He 'borrowed' your clothes and rummaged through your bins, and even killed those racoons that had been raiding your bins for you. He did feel a little bad for the beasts, but anything that inconvenienced his love could not be tolerated. 

As a testament to his own self-control, he managed to prevent himself from hiding in your closet and watching you sleep for the majority of the days, no matter how tempting it was. That was, until, you tripped and hurt your ankle on the way to work. And since he could hardly pick you up and kiss you and take care of you, he would do the next best thing. Stick around and make sure you were okay.

That was all he was doing, he told himself, as he shut the door on himself, leaving a good 30 minute window for you to get back. He was being a good boyfriend.

The closet wasn't quite spacious by any means, but he fit fine, If his legs were bent at a weird angle. What did it matter? It wasn't as if he could feel them cramping, and even if he could, it would be worth it to be so close to his beloved. Perhaps it was stupid, reckless. What if he ticced and alerted you? What if you ran, or called the police? Nevertheless love clouded over his logic and better judgement, and so he stayed.

He was euphoric when you got back, not even casting a glance at the usually empty closet. He peered through the gap in the door with wide, enraptured eyes as you continued your daily routine. He stayed staring as you sat on your laptop, and especially as you changed into more comfortable clothes, facing directly at him. It was hard to tell whether the pounding of his heart in his throat and his shaking hands as he took the phone out were nerves at the thought of being seen, or excitement at seeing you so bare in front of him, in just your underwear.

When he felt the tightness in his pants, he decided it was the latter.

                           -o0o-

Over the next few days, he became a regular in your closet too. Spending the night in the mansion became a rarity that  he only happened to do when he came back from a late night mission and needed a shower and change of clothes. He preferred being with you, of course, no one enjoys being away from their partner.

The winter was fading by the time he worked up the balls to talk to you again. You were at work in the movie theatre, and he decided he would visit you. He would charm you, and ask you for your number, he had it all planned out.

He donned the best clothing he could find in his closet - a Black turtleneck instead of his usual scrappy hoodies, some trousers, he'd shined his boots, and even worn some cologne! He'd stolen it from a victim previously, and until now, he never had a reason to wear it. He gave himself one last cursory glance in the mirror on the way out, checking his hair wasn't as unruly as usual and that his gash was covered, and left.

The movie theatre wasn't too busy, he was relieved to see. There were only two people on cashier duty, you, and another girl. Most people were in her queue, he noted. She looked pretty, he supposed that was the reason why.

Idiots. Why even look at her when they could be blinded by the perfection that was you? Although, internally he was glad really. Less competition.

He tried to seem as casual as possible as he strode in, taking his place in your line, behind what looked like a young couple. How ironic, Toby thought, that he was behind a couple. That was what they were about to be. In love, holding hands, giving each other knowing glances and kisses on the cheeks.

When it was his turn, he walked up to you, jerking his neck and giving a nervous smile, trying and failing to seem like some confident heartthrob.

"Oh, hey, I know you" You spoke, returning his smile. You remembered him. Had you been thinking about him too? "You're uh.. Convenience store guy, right?"

 "Y-yeah, that's me. Hey."

"Hey" If you continued smiling like that at him he might just turn into mush in front of you. "What can I get for ya?"

"Oh, uh.." He looked up at the digital signage showing the movies on, deciding on some generic looking horror movie "H-how’s 'The - wow! - the Blackcoats daughter'?"

"One ticket for the Blackcoats, alright. Anything else I can get for you sir?"

"Muh-my names Toby, not sir" He stuttered out, earning a little laugh from you that made his heart soar "One B-bucket of popcorn please? L-large"

"That was horrible. I'm [Y/N]. " you respond, before you turn around, perfect hair swishing behind you as you start to fill up a box of popcorn for him. Now was his chance. C'mon Toby, c'mon- She remembered him, she must like him too.

"O-oh, and I forgot one - birdie - one thing."

"Hm?" You turn and face him again

"c-could I get your number? To g-go." He gave you the most charming smile he could muster, though It most likely ended up looking like a begging puppy, desperate for a treat.

You were surprised for a second, blinking a couple of times, before he could see your face flush the prettiest pink you'd ever seen, opening your mouth for a second, searching for a response. You seemed flustered - he made you flustered. God, you were so cute it made him ache.  "W-well, sure, do you want me to write it down, or..?"

"I-I have a phone, hang on" He fished his phone out of his pocket, quickly checking his photos app was shut. It would be unfortunate if you saw just how much he adored you quite yet.

You took the phone and typed it in, naming your contact '[Y/N] :)', before handing the phone back. As he took it, your fingers brushed his, and he could of sworn he felt actual electricity pass through you, fingertips tingling where he left yours.

He sent a little text 'Hi, it's toby :)' to test you hadn't given him the wrong number by mistake, smiling even wider when your phone gave an affirmative chime, his bandage over his mouth crinkling a little.

"T-thanks" He managed, sure his voice sounded positively giddy with delight.

"No problem" You smiled back at him "Have a good view!"

He took his ticket and popcorn, and in his excitement, strode out of the movie theatre entirely, forgetting the movie he'd brought. His head was far too full of thoughts of his beloved.

          -o0o-

As much as he longed to spend another night with you, that day he had a mission to attend to. It didn't dampen his mood however, he didn't think anything could. He got your number. You liked him! You had to, why else would you give it to him? He was so excited he was practically vibrating.

He swung one of his hatchets over his shoulder, practically skipping down the hall and out the door to where Tim and Brian were waiting to murk some oblivious camper who had decided to set up camp in the forest.

"Someone's in a good mood" Tim spoke with his southern drawl, flicking his cigarette butt onto the forest floor and crushing it with the heel of his boot, before taking his mask and covering his face fully once again, letting out a tired sigh. He was one of the few proxies who didn't take much joy in killing.

Toby just nodded. He sure was.

Brian was silent, striding ahead of them, presumably in the direction of their latest victims. His AK-47 strapped to his back, and the baclava with the odd looking frown already donned.

"Hoodies frontin'" Tim spoke, explaining the silence from the man, as he followed along. Hoodie was generally non-verbal, so it didn't surprise him.

Toby had trouble concentrating, on the walk to the campsite. His mind kept drifting to you. More than once Tim had caught him taking his phone out and glancing at the screen. He was just checking if you'd responded to his text, even though he assumed you wouldn't until your shift was over.

"Waiting for somethin'?" Tim spoke, briefly pausing his walk to look at Toby

"Nuh-nothing."

Their short interaction was interrupted by Hoodie holding his hand up to silence them, pointing to a tent in the woods a  little way ahead of them. It looked to be a family of three. A father, a daughter, and a Wife. All easy enough targets, no visible weapons save for the pen-knife on one of the logs. That wouldn't be even close to a match for one of them, let alone all three.

"We'll each take one" Tim said, breaking the silence, earning a nod from Hoodie and a 'yep' from Toby. It was go time.

Toby started to walk over slowly, before stopping, just before they noticed him, wet leaves making soft sounds under his feet. He readied his hatchet, holding it behind his head. Three, two, one..

Thwack.

The hatchet landed where he wanted it with a wet thud, buried halfway through the mans forearm. Sure, he could have gone for the head, but he hardly felt like a quick kill. He needed a way to vent out all his excitement, after all.

The man was shocked to the point he couldn't move, eyes wide and staring in horror at his now half-attacked limb, nerves severed, falling limp in front of him with Toby's axe still lodged in. Toby himself let out a manic 'whoop whoop!', the adrenaline of the kill finally kicking in.

The shrill, terrified scream of the child was cut short by the echoing sound of a shot, and Toby watched as a round buried itself in her forehead. Hoodie, always the efficient one.

And then the man stood up, lunging for the knife, and his tunnel vision kicked in, as he sprinted to him, remaining hatchet in hand. It was somewhat impressive, Toby noted, he could even stand losing that much blood at once. Nevertheless, he wouldn't be standing much longer, as Toby barrelled at him full speed, sending the two of them sprawling into the ground, leaves flying up in a shower as they thudded down.

Toby came to his senses first, raising himself up, hatchet behind his head, grinning like the maniac that he was. Thud. Crack. The sweet sound of ribs crunching under his hatchet. He looked down, watching the way the blood squirted and pooled on the still-screaming mans chest. Again. Thwack. Crack. More blood, more screams. He was vaguely aware of it splashing his face as he licked his lips, acknowledging the familiar copper tang against his tongue.

In a sudden show of theatrics he dropped the axe to his side, bending down over the rib-cage and tearing the ribcage apart, the muscle and sinew nothing compared to his advanced strength. With a tear they were out of the way, strew either side of the now motionless corpse of the man. He plunged his hand into his chest, searching around in the guts, which were slippery with blood, before coming across what he wanted. The heart.

With a swift flick of his wrist he plucked the heart out of the mans chest, watching as it beat in his tight grip. He held it up, briefly considering gifting it to you. He could buy you some flowers and turn up at your door, blood-stained from head to toe, and present them to you.

"I killed him because I love you!" He'd say, and you'd swoon and fall into his arms and kiss him as he carried you back.

As oblivious as he was, he wasn't so stupid as to actually think your reaction would be so eager, casting the thought away. He snorted, throwing the heart so it hit the back of Tim, who was standing over the woman’s body, her neck neatly broken.

He spun around "Don't do that shit, Toby!"

Toby just giggled, righting himself and kicking the head of the body, watching it loll. As he stood up, he noticed something sticking out of his torso. Was that..? He pulled it out, and sure enough, there was the knife the guy had. Huh, he actually landed a hit. Kudos to him. The knife was discarded on the ground.

Hoodie cleared his throat, beckoning them to follow him back to the mansion, and so they did, in mostly silence. Tim neglected to point out Toby's incessant phone checking this time, thankfully.

He made his way back to the mansion, avoiding most of it's residents other than a quick scratch of Smile Dog. Locking the door to his room, stripping down and dumping his axes on his bed along with his phone, glancing down at where the knife had wounded him. Sure enough, it was already starting to scab up. One benefit of being a proxy was it was really, really hard to get hurt.

He slipped into the shower, not bothering to change the temperature on the water. He couldn't feel it after all, why bother?

By the time he'd gotten out, less than 10 minutes later, he chucked a towel round himself, not bothering to comb his mop of hair. He'd gotten all the blood out of it, that was good enough.

He leant over, dripping water on his bedsheets and dirty clothes, to check the phone. He beamed, looking down at the notification on the home screen, Letting out a content kind of sigh. He swept the bloody clothes and axes off the bed, dropping the towel on the floor and crawling in, not bothering to get dressed. He was too excited to talk to you now, what did that matter?

'Hey :)' You'd said, followed by 'Sorry the response was late, was still at work'

He briefly debated his response, before settling with a simple 'It's fine :)'

'How are you?'

'I'm good' he paused, he didn't want to seem too dry. 'Just been working out.' Well.. It was just a little lie, really. All that running and killing counted as exercise, surely.

He talked to you for almost a whole hour, kicking his legs like a schoolgirl every time you'd responded to him. He'd asked about your favourite book series, grinning as wide as he could when you infodumped to him. You felt close enough to share this with him! He was over the moon.

Eventually it came to an end as all good things do and you said goodnight, telling him you had work the next morning. And you needed to rest. He knew. It was cute you wanted to tell him though, like you cared, wanted to make sure he didn't feel like he was being ignored. You were so considerate; his lover was so cute.

He turned out the lights, laying on his side with the phone, scrolling through the pictures and videos he had of you. It had become a nightly routine whenever he was in the mansion, to help you feel closer to him.

He came across a photo he had recently taken - you in that matching black set he'd found when he first broke into your apartment. You were trying it on in the mirror, and holy shit, you looked perfect. The most beautiful thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. Even now, in a slightly grainy image taken through the drawer of a cupboard, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Sure enough, he felt a familiar feeling in his lower stomach, looking down. He could spare a few minutes before he went to bed.  

[possessiveandobsessive]

Hello again! This is another Rook×Lucanis story, but will be much longer than my last work! I'm not sure how many parts it will be yet as it's not complete, but I will be updating regularly!

***This story will cover the last several chapters of the game, and will be full of spoilers! So don't read if you haven't played the end and don't want to know!***

The Spirit of Determination

Nyra "Rook" Thorne is somehow responsible for the fate of all of Thedas. If she's going to pull it off, she's going to need a hell of a lot of determination. Lucky for her, she knows a guy and his demon who can help her out with that.

Part 1: The Girl with the World on her Shoulders

Fierce green eyes stared back at Rook from Varric’s old shaving mirror. She’d been told many times throughout her life that her eyes were a bit “intense” or “odd”, meaning they freaked people out. Rook’s eyes were an extremely bright green, lighter towards her pupil, and slightly darker at the edge of her iris. This could sometimes make them appear as if they were glowing, but she was no spirit or demon. Her eyes didn’t glow. Her mother, for the short time she was in Rook’s life, had always told her that they reminded her of the fade itself. Rook had no idea as to what her mother meant, until she watched the sky tear itself apart and allowed the Fade to leak slowly into their world ten years ago. To this day she wasn’t sure how her mother had known what color the Fade was, but she really wasn’t far off.

There was nothing particularly special about Rook outside of her freaky eyes and the fact that she was a Grey Warden mage. It would only be fair if that had been the case, but unfortunately, the universe didn’t seem to care about fairness. Not to mention, it turned out her gods were massive dicks. 

Rook had relatively pale skin (especially for an elf), with a light smattering of freckles across her cheekbones and nose. She bore the Vallaslin of Mythal on her forehead and temples. It wove into almost a “V” shape, and its coal black ink had it standing out prominently against her skin. Thick dark eyebrows sat on her brow, perfectly matching the pitch black hair on her head. Rook didn’t make a habit of cutting or upkeeping her hair these days. That meant it hung in straight shaggy locks nearly down to her shoulders in the back, and to just shy of her chin in the front. Two short pieces framed her face on either side and she kept the rest tucked behind her pointed ears so she could see her enemies as she fought. Several long thin scars marred her pale skin around her eyes and cheeks. The dark bags under her eyes did not help with the overall unkempt look of the woman in the mirror.  

I look like shit, Rook thought flatly. Though, I honestly have a pretty good excuse. A whole list of them in fact. She shook her head slightly as if to force the thoughts from her mind. Re-living all that had happened in the last several months was not helpful when trying to relax and formulate a new game plan. Thoughts like these didn’t go away easily. 

She had first tried to stop Solas’s ritual only to have that fall apart and release not one, but two evil gods back into the world. Varric was injured in the process as well, all because of decisions she had made. 

Then, Rook had been forced to choose between Minrathous and Treviso when the gods’ dragons had attacked both cities at once. She had been worried for a few days that she had lost Neve after Rook chose to go to Treviso instead of Minrathous, but luckily Neve isn’t a quitter, and had returned. Rook didn’t regret her decision, and she’d make it again. The number of casualties in Minrathous often made her feel sick though. Going to Dock Town was difficult. 

The next big blow was Weisshaupt. Gods, she thought, so many dead wardens. Our numbers are so few now, how are we supposed to stop a blight and kill two blighted gods? Solas, jackass that he was, had made a point to emphasize the importance of getting the Grey Wardens on her side, and using them to build an army. After the events at Weisshaupt a month ago, they’d be lucky if their current force could defend a small city, let alone the world. Rook was grieving more than just for the blow to her plans for battle against the gods, those had been her fellow Wardens, her brothers and sisters in arms. Only Wardens could truly understand the trials and tribulations that came as a result of joining the order. Only they could know the soft, beckoning melody of the blight. 

She wasn’t the only member of the team that suffered in the immediate aftermath of Weisshaupt. Lucanis felt he had failed the team because he was an abomination, and Davrin was grieving the same loss as Rook. He and Lucanis were at each other’s throats for a few weeks as a result, but had finally settled recently as they both worked through their pain. 

There were positive things that had happened as well. Rook knew it was important to remember them if she was going to be able to put on a brave face and lead this team. At last, she had finished helping each of The Veilguard (Bellara’s name for the group that had stuck) members to battle their inner demons. Literal demons in Lucanis’s case. 

While it was worth it to see her friends grow from their personal battles, Rook was completely run down and exhausted. Now they had to kill the gods before they could finish their dagger during the next eclipse. It felt overwhelming in her current state, but Rook was pretty sure it would feel overwhelming regardless of how much rest she had. These were the gods of her people’s legends, the creators of her people. Somehow, Rook was in charge of killing them now? I’m one elf! Grey Warden or not, those odds suck for me! Rook groaned internally.

Lucanis had been one of the few things keeping her afloat these days. He supported her when and where he could. Lucanis made sure she was eating enough, made sure she was sleeping more than 3 hours every night, and had a way of bringing her smile and laugh to the surface when they were deeply buried under her anxiety and sadness. Rook was tough, she had always had to be, but she was immensely grateful for him. Rook blushed lightly when she remembered the “almost kiss” in Lucanis’s room (pantry), a couple weeks before. That blush got even deeper when she thought about how truly disappointed and distraught she was directly afterward. She had seriously contemplated screaming in Lucanis’s pillow, but she restrained herself.

Even so, Rook understood Lucanis’s hesitation and fears. He had been through so much recently, including coming out of a year of torture with a demon inside him. Then Lucanis’s grandmother and one of two remaining family members died. Then that grandmother was actually alive and the other one of his two living family members (his imbecilic cousin Illario) was discovered to have plotted Lucanis’s murder and his grandmother’s kidnapping/staged murder. And the cherry on top was Lucanis having to be the one to decide his traitor cousin’s fate. He had spared Illario’s life, instead opting to lock him away after Rook suggested it as an alternative. Either way, nearly all Lucanis had experienced in the last 16 months was traumatic in some way. He needs patience and support right now, not your overwhelming desire for him, she berated herself. You know Lucanis cares, he’s shown you that. Just give him time.

Sighing heavily, Rook finally set the mirror down and rubbed her temples. Focus Nyra she chided internally. She really needed to sit down and come up with an immediate plan of action. They didn’t have long until their deadline for killing Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, and Rook had very little in the way of an idea of how to do so. Solas wasn't being particularly helpful either. She was glad he had helped them to save the Dalish that Elgar’nan had intended to use as sacrifices, but she still didn’t trust him. There was something in the Dread Wolf's eyes, something that warned her he would betray her eventually. Varric, surprisingly, had also been unhelpful. He kept up with his usual pep talks. “You’re a wild card Rook, they’ll never see you coming” or “They don’t stand a chance against you and the team you’ve built, kid”. She appreciated the support, but this was Varric’s mission… right?

Rook was pulled from her thoughts by a knock at her door. Quirking an eyebrow, she called for whoever it was to come in. Harding tumbled in less than gracefully, looking up at Rook with a small look of embarrassment at her entry. 

“Harding? What is it?”

Normally Rook would’ve laughed at Harding’s clumsiness and bashful expression, but she could tell that something was important or urgent

“Morrigan wants you to meet with her at The Cobbled Swan as soon as possible. She says she has some things she wants to discuss with you. Since things are so unpredictable now that the gods are close to finishing their dagger, she said as quickly as possible would be best.” 

Harding said all of this in a rush, panting slightly from her run up the stairs to Rook’s bedroom. Rook looked at Harding with a somewhat startled expression, before saying “We should have a month before they can finish it, does she know something we don’t?” Her eyebrows knit together as she frowned, “Nevermind, the answer doesn’t actually matter I suppose. I’ll head out now,” Rooks paused briefly before adding, “On the off chance something is coming faster than we expected, make sure the team is ready to leave at a moment’s notice. We need to be ready for anything right now.”

Harding nodded firmly at Rook and turned to walk out of the room before she stopped, and spoke to Rook over her shoulder, “Be careful Rook. We need you, so don’t do anything dumb.”

Rook let out a surprised bark of laughter at that. She couldn’t really hold that comment against Harding after everything they had been through in the last few months. Rook wasn’t exactly known for having the safest plans, but they always came together at the end! Plus, they were all still alive so she was taking that as a win.

“I will Lace, don’t worry. I know what the stakes are. We have to do whatever it takes though, and that isn’t going to be safe in any version of the future.”

Harding started to turn to look at Rook, but just shook her head and said, “You’re right Rook, we do whatever it takes.” before walking down the hallway and turning to the right, no doubt heading to see Taash.

Rook immediately went to her wardrobe to change into her fighting gear. Nowhere in Thedas was safe these days, especially not for the biggest pain in the blighted gods’ asses. She finished the last buckles on her warden mage armor, and strapped on her blades. One blade was her main weapon that she used in tandem with her magic, and the other was a backup she started wearing after losing her main hand once in battle and nearly being flattened by an ogre because of it. Deciding she was prepared for anything on her journey to Dock Town, Rook walked out of her room and down the stairs towards the Eluvian.

Part 2 Here!

Part 3 here!

DATV Masterlist here!

[hijackalx]

GALE SFW HEADCANONS:

finally we got our lover boy here. its not a secret that he like gets super easily attached. i kind of hate that they patched that out bcz it fit his character so much. but yeah in my mind its canon he gets attached suppperrr easily also kind of the type of guy to love bomb tav. not in the manipulative way tho like he genuinely thinks hes in love.

he gives everything he has in relationships too like tav IS his everything. he can be pretty clingy but thats just cuz he loves them so much ❤️ ok yandere vibes hold on. not really but imagine.

the type of dude to draw pictures of him and tav holding hands in his diary (they are not drawn good) also definitely talks to himself a lot, or maybe to his cat (sometimes abt tav)

hands down the funniest mf at camp like hes the type thats just naturally funny he doesnt even try to be. its hard to take him serious sometimes bcz of it😭😭 he gets mad af about it too. like his funnyness is a blight on his existence he just wants to be taken seriously. also feel like he has the worst luck too like fucked up things always happen to him and thats also hilarious LMAO constantly has the camp in stitches

he has bad spatial awareness so hes always triggering traps and tav gets so mad 😹😹😹

love language:

giving= words of affirmation and quality time

always wants to be with tav. also loves to compliment them but he does it in his corny ass wizard way lol like in the most extra way possible. he cant just say "ur eyes look beautiful today" hes got to say some shit like "ur viewing orbs are looking most ravishing this eventide". i bet he would write poetry abt tav but he wouldnt give it to them bcz hes lowkey embarrassed 😔 like insecure in his ability not embarrassed by the action itself. he just wants to do tav justice and he doesnt think he can.

receiving= quality time

as long as tav wants to be with him too hes happy. he worries abt being too clingy so sometimes he'll distance himself and if tav closes that distance on their own itll make him so happy. like thats the best thing ever to him. to have somebody that wants to be in his presence and listen to him ramble.

i feel like gale is similar in height to astarion so like 5'11/6' hes probably closer to 5'11. like that is the most gale height to me. also hes a little thicker with some muscle. hes def got a lil belly 🤭❤️ his pecs are rlly smthng too like thats where most of his muscle goes. those look heavy let me carry them for u king 🤲🏻😼

GALE NSFW HEADCANONS:

A FREAKKKKKK !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS MAN IS A FREAK. WHAT was that shit in the sky ?????? THE FUCK ??? like he is THE MOST kinky mf here he will do almost anything. ONLY with ppl hes comfortable with tho. otherwise hes vanilla af. i honestly feel like hes mostly submissive tho just cuz hes chill like that. equally gives and receives. like straight up tav is his BABY he will do ANYTHING for them. probably introduced to most of his kinks thru tav (and mystra....... unfortunately.....)

loves to give head. like dear god. will beg tav to let him for real. hes very good at it too

incorporates sooo much magic. will make fake!gale fuck tav so he can watch. will use hot and cold magic and all that. electricity. the thunder stuff or whatever its called. literally anything u can think of to spice it up. he has thought of it. will also do freaky shit like using magic to mess with tav in public if u know what i mean

doesnt have a high body count i lowkey feel like mystra was his first. and he hasnt smashed anybody since. until tav.

exhibitionist AND humiliation kink. so these work hand in hand bcz like i said he doesnt do kinky shit with ppl hes not comfortable with so doing it where strangers might see is ultimate humiliation for him. but also likes to humiliate tav with it too.

will say a lot of nasty shit. this i feel he doesnt go super overboard with but its nasty compared to how he usually is. mostly when hes begging.

im gonna say gale has a solid 5 on him. and hes got hair i feel like most of the companions do but it works rlly good on gale lol. like hes got a happy trail and everything 🤤 nice hairy armpits too so u know hes got that manly ass MUSKK 💦💦💦 anyway i think his pp is pretty straight. like a wand lol. its a pretty normal pp.

aftercare with gale is the best yo like he makes sure tav is taken care of first and then cleans up on his own unless tav offers which he usually tells them to rest lol. hes just so sweet.

[onthewallwiththis]

its ma birthday! my gift to u are some of my fave quotes I've gathered from tlou fanfics!!

suitcase full of stars - @barlowstreet

"Three out of ten," he says, picking her hands up and rubbing them between his. "You're rating my bite?" she wheezes in disbelief. It's the first thing she's said besides apologies since they got to the hospital. "Didn't even break skin. You could do better.

one of my absolute fave foster fics!! and between such whump, this made me giggle.

A hopeful stranger - @two-birds-alone-together

A long-suffering sigh "I swear you were born contrary." "Nope." Joel glares at her as she waggles her eyebrows at him. "It's a finely honed skill, Joel. I've had a lifetime of practice. You'll never be as contrary as me." She grins up at him, giggling when he takes the now-empty mug from her hands. Joel snorts. "Now that I believe."

I <3 book shop AU, I also quote this particular one to myself DAILY

Oh mirror in the sky, what is love? - @boopernatural

"Joel." she sets her fork down and turns to face him, expression ultra-serious. "I solemnly swear not to get black out drunk, or have sex, or break anything valuable. I may do a bunch of drugs, it just depends on what they offer me." "Downers if we're lucky," he says, going back to his breakfast. "What does that mean?" "It means finish your eggs."

when I tell you i CACKLED

Ellie Williams' guide to teenage rebellion - @simoncowellstits

"You don't get to talk fake lawyer." she crosses her arms. "you're supposed to be winning my fucking legal case so I don't need to hang out with Kim anymore! No offence, Kim." "None taken." Kim says from her position near the door.

--

'questions about J-Dog.' do he and Tommy shit-talk me? did he forget how to laugh and/or smile in a terrible amnesia incident? does he know a lot of facts about the cold war or is that just his vibe? what makes him so grumpy? Is it just an old age thing? why is he so weird all the time??? why can't he just act normal and choose a personality? why does he care if I told frank I couldn't have sex with my vampire boyfriend on their honeymoon because he was too freaky with it??

This whole fic is so damn funny. In between some of the most heart wrenching story and crazy realistic characterisation I found myself in tears of laughter. I also quote the twilight reference almost daily.

Let me be your shelter - @messydepressy95

Not to be dramatic or anything, but she's a child of divorce.

--

Still, Joel continues to teach her to drive, and Tommy keeps inviting himself to their lessons.

BEST ONE LINERS IN THIS FIC

Inordinary - @heroes-fading

"Mhm," Ellie nods. "That's why every love song you've ever written has been depressing as fuck. All the mutual-ness."

--

"Just because it isn't seventy percent oat milk doesn't make it shitty, Ellie." "Thats homophobic," she tells him, and he rolls his eyes again.

the inordinary-verse is full of incredible quotes SO FUNNY

Lessons in wayfinding - @penandinkprincess

"Why so fucking nosy about it?" "Fatal flaw, I'm afraid," he says with a theatrical sigh. "Ask Joel. I had all the good gossip at family reunions."

Uncle Tommy is the root of most of my day to day happiness.

ANYWHO! I have so many more of these quotes saved, you'll never know when I'll strike again.

Pls lmk if you want me to remove a tag or quote <3