#he might not be able to do much but he’s not gonna be all helpless. he would bite the hand that feeds

[unknownarmageddon]

Thoughts on toxic Killermare? :>

well!! i’m really not,,, big on killermare from an objective standpoint BUT i do think they’re kinda interesting. like, their just like natural state of being is absolutely toxic. there’s no way they could be healthy. to me. nightmare would be manipulative, would absolutely keep killer trapped and under his thumb, would mess with his emotions and his vulnerability that comes with his fucked up soul. and killer wouldn’t try to make any kinda relationship with him work. so it kinda goes both ways. there’d be clashing. and i just woke up so i can’t really formulate anything smart to say but i think their dynamic(s) could be interesting 👍 even if im not crazy about them

[venus-haze]

Damned If You Do (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Summary: You're almost certain Bo's getting tired of you. You're not so sure how much longer you can prevent the inevitable, but a slip of the tongue in a moment of desperation proves to be your salvation.

Note: Female reader but no other descriptors are used. I missed writing for Bo! I might be kinda rusty, but I hope y’all like it🖤 Please read the warnings before reading. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Canon typical violence. Prolonged captivity and isolation. Stockholm syndrome (some basement wife elements). Mentions of past torture. Extremely dubious consent. Sexually explicit content involving vaginal fingering, sadism, degradation, choking, knife play.

You were sure Ambrose was gonna kill you if he didn’t first. The damp, dead air permeated the basement walls, filtered in thick through the vent in the ceiling and filled your lungs with each breath. It would choke you once summer settled in, foul and unforgiving. Almost as unforgiving as him, whose presence inspired fear and loathing in you. Lately, however, the lack of it brought a foreboding sense of dread over you as your isolated mind raced to its logical conclusion.

Bo was getting tired of you.

One cursory glance at the state of your body made you panic—bruises fading, cuts and cigarette burns scarring over without fresh marks to replace them. For the first week or so you were there, every part of your body pulsed with pain. He found your limits with the efficacy of a bloodhound and brutally forced you past each one. 

All you felt then was dull aching, kinda hungry, too. Didn’t bode well for your long-term survival.

You shifted on the old, lumpy mattress on the floor, stained with blood, sweat, and cum that reeked with the breakdown of others’ bodily fluids. Probably the girls in the Polaroids all over the walls. He’d taken a few of you since you’d been down there. Hadn’t done that recently, either. Mostly came down there to feed you, take you upstairs to use the gas station bathroom, bring you back downstairs to throw you around a little and fuck you, and then leave. Shit. You were becoming a chore.

Bo had plenty of chores around Ambrose already. Would grumble about them to you, the closest he ever got to pillowtalk. The movie theater, the church, even the houses were his responsibility. You weren’t quite sure why, less able to clearly picture the town you’d driven into the longer you spent as Bo’s captive. There weren’t any immediate red flags that popped out at you. After all, you’d driven straight to the gas station on your blown out tire. Didn’t take the time to do any sight-seeing. He made sure of that. From what you’d gathered from Bo, the only living souls in town were he and Vincent, with the recent and temporary addition of yourself.

The floor creaked above you, and you pulled your knees to your chest, anticipating his arrival downstairs. It was almost impossible to tell what mood he’d be in whenever he’d pay you a visit. Tried listening for the sound of his footsteps, the way his boots pounded against the linoleum above to the cement stairs to where you waited for him, as if you could do much else. There was the TV, but the glimpse into the outside world left you feeling especially helpless when your own face flashed across the screen on the 6 o’clock news not long after you became captive in Ambrose. Then after a week or so, all mention of you stopped. Seven days for you to be rotated out of the news cycle. They’d gotten tired of you long before Bo did.

You screwed your eyes shut, as he ambled down the stairs, racking your brain for what to do. Opened them just as quickly to give him your undivided attention, just how he liked. Panicked and hopeless, you blurted out upon seeing his face, “You’re gonna kill me soon, aren’t you?”

He set the bottle of soda he’d undoubtedly brought down for you and smiled. Charming, disarming, like the one he first gave you when you naively drove into town on the roadkill guy’s advice—Lester. His name was Lester. Could he have known? Was he in on the whole thing? You hadn’t seen anyone but Bo for weeks, and he only made mention of Vincent, his brother, who you were certain had no interest in rescuing you from your plight.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

‘Tire blew out,’ you had told Bo, feeling silly and self-conscious when he laughed. ‘I can see that.’ Threw a wink your way and assured you he’d have you back on the road before it got dark. You trusted him because he was handsome and laid on the compliments thick. Made you think maybe driving over that broken bottle in the road wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Within an hour he had you in that fucking basement.

“You—you’re bored of me,” you said. “You don’t come down here as often as you used to.”

“Aw, you miss me? Is that it?” he mocked.

Maybe. Maybe it was the security of knowing you were wanted, that the longer you kept his interest, the longer you’d be alive. Maybe even earn his trust enough to get a chance to escape back into the world that’d forgotten about you. But Bo wouldn’t forget. He’d keep you immortalized on those cinder block walls with all the others. Disgustingly sentimental. Part of you preferred being part of his shrine to his own depravity than a black and white photo people carelessly flipped past in the local paper.

“How are you gonna do it? Tell me,” you begged.

He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes at you as a grin spread across his face. “Well, I like to get that shit over with quick, but you might be worth slowing things down for.”

“Like—like how?”

As soon as he made his way toward you, regret filled your gut. You crawled backward on your hands, trying to put some distance between you until your back hit the wall. His hands were around your neck, his hungry eyes drinking in your distress.

“If you were most girls, I would just keep squeezing until you stop breathing,” he said, squeezing harder. “Pretty clean.” Black spots filled your vision as you fruitlessly tried clawing at his hands. “Makes it easier for Vincent to get to work on you that way.” He released your throat, and you fought through the coughing fit that burned in your chest as you gasped for air. Tears streamed down your face, and you wanted to smack the smug expression off of his.

“But that ain’t always fun,” he said.

Bo stood up and kicked your legs apart with his boots. Grabbed something from the nearby tool cart. The fucking knife. You swore he kept the blade dull on purpose just so it’d hurt more, leave nastier scars behind in its wake whenever he dug it into your skin, dragging it through your flesh with horrifying precision that only came from experience, because you never needed stitches.

“For you, I think I’d be a little more personal.”

He straddled you, sitting on your legs so you couldn’t possibly move them in an attempt to escape or defend yourself. You could feel his hard-on straining against his jeans, pressing into your bare pussy as he leaned over you, knife shining menacingly in the buzzing fluorescent light overhead. He made rags of your clothes not long after you became his and never offered any replacement.

The blade pressed against the middle of your chest, right between your breasts, making you shudder. He licked his lips. “I could shove this knife on in there, open you up all the way down to your cunt.” His fingers brushed your clit. “‘Beauty’s only skin deep’, that’s what my mama used to say. But sluts like you all look the same on the inside. Crack open your ribcage, and I wouldn’t be able to tell you from all the rest.”

You whimpered as he dragged the blade down your abdomen with a deceptive gentleness, his fingers still working your clit, making it hard for you not to jerk your hips, risking a slip of the knife directly into your belly. 

When he lifted the knife, you couldn’t even let yourself feel relief as your eyes followed it to one of your wrists. 

“Could take it nice and slow. Let you bleed out,” he pressed it against your skin, dangerously close to a vein. “It’d take hours for you to die, then. Messy as hell, too, but we could get up to some fun, you and me. A good fuck for ol’ times’ sake, then I can sit back with some popcorn while I watch the lights go out in those pretty eyes of yours.”

You let out a shaky breath, fear and arousal mixing with your lingering lack of oxygen so you could only half-grasp what exactly he was saying, just that he had a knife to your wrist, and he was enough of a homicidal monster to kill you that way. He slid his fingers inside you, and you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you, your head heavy and fuzzy as he kept going. 

“But if we’re talking easy and personal, then I’d just—” He brought the blade up to your throat until you could feel your rapid pulse beating against it. 

Bo curled his fingers, pleasure tearing through you as you jolted in place, feeling the cool metal superficially pierce your skin. 

Your voice came out as a strangled sob. “Please, Bo. Please don’t—” 

He kissed you, an undertone of fondness in the gesture that filled you with relief and terror. “You won’t have to worry about any of that for a long while,” he said, his voice low, reverberating through your aching bones. “I’m not finished with you yet. Not even close.”

[yourlovermumu]

imagine tying up your boyfriend while his sleeping and he wakes up to find himself literally at your mercy, saying its revenge for how he treats you in bed. and his like ''come on sweetie i am not mean to you in bed. what are you talking about?''

you tease him by kissing and licking his inner thighs. and his so frustrated. like why wont you just give him what he knows you know he wants. his telling you to just hurry up and touch him. and you tell him not until he does some begging. which he refuses to do at first. but after awhile manages to let out a little ''p...please touch me.''

you give in eventually but your just softly touching his cock while he goes, ''thats not nearly enough, baby. put it in your mouth.'' but you again, simply tell him to beg for it.

and he refuses this time again. saying no you wont get him to beg for you. and your all smug like okay then get comfy cause your gonna be tied up like this for a while.

and then your teasing him so damn much. giving his cock feather like kisses everywhere but you just wont put it in your mouth at all. nor would you stroke him properly.

and his just soooooo frustrated that he swears once he gets out these ropes, your really gonna get it. he says his going to absolutely show you no mercy at all. and your just giggling at his threats like ''as if, your the one tied up and helpless. not me.''

but luck really wasnt on your side this time. because turns out he was slowly loosening the knot while you were busy teasing the leaving day lights out of him.

''still want me to beg, baby?'' he laughed at the panic on your face as he yanked you by your arm. slamming you down on the bed. he pinned both of your hands above your head and tied you with the same rope you used on him. ''yeah? do i still need to beg, princess? beg for you to suck my cock? do i?'' he taunted. a smug grin plastered on his handsome face.

needless to say...he quite quickly had you regretting ever playing around with him in the first place.

you cried and squirmed. jerking your hips away from him only for him to pull you back by the hips. ''keep doing that and i might not let you cum at all tonight.'' he said sternly, slapping your thigh to somehow make you behave. all you could do was just sit still and take it. you had lose count of how many times you had been edged. your mind clouding with the need to get rid of the uncomfortable arche.

''p-please-! i- i am sorry!! i- a-ah...let me cummm...p-please i am s-so sorry...'' you sobbed. begging him pitifully.

''aw...my poor baby wants to cum so badly, doesnt she?'' he cooed. stroking your cheek tenderly while his thumb brushed away tears.

you nodded dumbly in respond.

''...'m sorry baby, your gonna have to prove to me you deserve to cum.''

you frowned, pouting sadly before a yelp left your lips when he pressed the vibrator to your clit again.

''its no use pouting, baby. dont try to use your cute little face to get your way.'' he chuckled. biting his lip when his eyes landed on your pussy again. so fucking drenched. soaking the sheets and yet you havent even came once yet. he cant help but let out a dreamy sigh at the sight. fingers prodding at your hole before slipping in with ease. they slip in so nicely. ''..god you take my fingers so well.'' he groaned.

and truthfully he is rock hard. has been since your little teasing session. it was only a matter of time before he gave in. the only reason he has been able to have some self control for this long without drilling you full of his cock was because he gets off on seeing you cry and beg. he loves it. the wracked state your in and the how vulnerable you look. the way your pussy is just begging to have his cock inside. and so is your mouth, letting out pleas after pleas to just let you cum. you even tried tempting him to fuck you full of his cock. sly little thing. it almost worked. almost. if he hadnt slapped your ass and threatened to not let you cum at all you probably would have been able to get him to fuck your tight little hole. but now....now he wasnt sure how much longer he can hold on and not just fuck you dumb.

''how about this, you gimme a kiss, and if your able to kiss me back properly while i stuff this pussy full of my fingers...then i'll let you cum. how's that sound? hell i would even give you cock. yeah? you want my cock, baby? mhm...sweet little thing..such a mess right right now..need to be full of my cock so badly, huh?''

he chuckled seeing you desperately reach to kiss him. your just soooooo adorable.

his lips were soon on yours and oh you were winning straight into his mouth. trying so desperately to keep kissing him without your mouth hanging open to moan loudly from how good his fingers were hitting your insides.

the kiss was messy. his tongue finding its way into your mouth and tangling with yours. small groans slipping from his lips as he kissed you like a starved man.

the kiss was messy with your mouth latching onto his yet you couldnt help how distracted you were by his fingers toying with your cunt. his thumb rubbed at your clit as two of his long, thick fingers drilled into.

and it turns out kissing was proving to be a little difficult with how good his fingers were making you feel.

but even if you werent able to kiss him back properly, he wouldnt hold it against you. he cant hold it against you. hell, he would be lucky if he could even think about anything other then the feel of your tight, warm walls squeezing his fingers and the twitch of his cock at the thought of replacing his fingers with his dick.

''h-hah...you wanna cum baby? you wanna cum, right?'' he spoke in between pants. breathing heavy as he held direct eye contact with you. his eyes heavy with desire.

he smirked smugly when you nodded your head over and over, mumbling out a breathy ''yes''.

''..yeah? of course you do.'' the words left his mouth as his palm came to lay flat against your cunt, slapping it. you yelped and he only snickered at your reaction. ''..dirty, dirty little girl...look how messy you're down here..its beautiful.''

his eyes were fixated on your wetness that made not only a mess on the sheets but also his hand.

without a word he brought his hand to your lips, poking at your bottom lip as he urged you to open your mouth.

''c'mon princess, you know what you have to do...open that pretty little mouth and suck.''

you didnt have to be told twice. already parting your lips open to take his pointer finger into your mouth. you took it in inch my inch, and he didnt rush you. just letting you take your time with it. but by the sight of something so erotic...his not sure how much longer he would last. his already at his limit. and you just had to look up at him like that while he had his fingers in your mouth, sucking them so, so gently as your tongue swirled around the digit. and he wasnt even thinking before shoving another into your mouth. and you welcomed it gladly.

''...d-addy..please f--uck me...'' your voice came out muffled by the fingers that stuffed your mouth. but he heard you nonetheless.

''...damnit.'' he mumbled under his breath, his jaw clenched as he finally deemed he really cant hold back anymore. he needs to fuck you. right. now.

he was quick to slip his fingers out of your mouth just as quick he was with shoving them in. both his hands now gripped your hip in a way that was sure to leave bruises.

his hand slipped down from your hips to your thighs, his strong arms pushing them back to your chest. he leaned over you, bring his mouth to your wrist and ripping of the thin silk ropes. he pulled the ropes off of your wrists with his teeth before spiting it out on the ground.

it wasnt necessary to have you tied. not anymore when his cock alone is going to leave you senseless. not to mention he loved it when you left your scratch marks on his back.

''gonna fuck you hard now baby, hold on tight, kay?''

GOJO SATORU, TOJI FUSHIGURO, GETO SUGURU, shoei barou, reo mikage, JINGO RAICHI, ryusei shido, OLIVER AIKU,MICHEAL KAISER, kei tsukishima, tobio kageyama, TETSURO KUROO, TURO OIKAWA, YUJI TERUSHIMA, ATSUMU MIYA

[inbarfink]

So when I wrote down that Big Undertale Meta Post about how Sans probably doesn’t remember RESETs at all and why that’s cool - I got a lot of responses to the tune of ‘that’s probably canon but I’m still gonna enjoy Sans Remember fics because of the angst’. And, well... first I want to emphasize that those are very good and correct responses! Like ‘I acknowledge might or might not be in the text but I am also gonna explore alternative ideas Because I Enjoy Them’ is a Good Damn Position to have! Transformative Fandom is Transformative on purpose! Engage with the text and it’s various analyses but don’t let it chain your creativity or fun!

It’s just that… all of the people saying that they prefer Sans Remembering ‘for the Angst’ make me think that maybe folks are kinda ignoring the incredible angst potential of Sans NOT remembering.

My original post focused on how cool it is that Sans manages to be so on-top-of-things even though he doesn’t remember anything - but let’s not ignore the fact that this situation is also grim as shit.

Through some mysterious super-science or whatever, Sans has managed to discover that his timeline is being RESET and altered constantly (before the Player came along, Flowey had already managed to basically 100% the entire Underground) and he has no memory of what's going on and what exactly is being altered. 

He knows he might’ve gone through the same day over and over and over again thousand times but he’s simply not aware of it. It’s all the helplessness and lack of forward momentum of a classic timeloop and none of the benefits of memorizing occurrences or acquiring extra information. That’s exactly the thing that drove him into his depressive spiral.

That line always strikes me. It’s like… Sans suspects that without the meddling of capricious immortal time gods, he’d be a much happier and motivated person. But he doesn’t know for sure, because he can’t remember how he was in some distant ‘original timeline’. He is essentially fighting to avenge a version of himself that might not even be real.

Like, yes, it is very impressive and badass how well Sans trained himself to notice every tiny little hint that might indicate that a RESET happened - but it’s impressive because the deck is stacked so heavily against him. And it is very impressive and badass how Sans managed to turn his weaknesses into strengths during his Boss Battle - but it’s impressive because these are usually huge weaknesses. Trying to work to solve a timeloop that you can only infer is going on through context clues is quite a hopeless and desperate mission!

Another bit in the Sans fight that I often think about is his unique reaction if you kill him and then RESET to Fight him again.

With how skilled he is at reading expressions, Sans probably knows what that ‘weird expression’ means, he knows the Player killed him once before and is here to try again. And yet he still goes along with the same attack plan he has, the one he knows killed him in that previous timeline. Why? Because he doesn’t know where the flaw in his plan was exactly, he can’t even begin to guess. So he has no choice but to go along with the plan he knows did kill him, because that’s the only thing he has. 

You know, the thing about Sans, is that he always plays his cards very close to his chest. It’s very hard to tell what exactly he’s thinking. That’s probably why so many people do believe he remembers RESET. If any non-Flowey character remembered RESETs, only Sans would be remotely able to hide it so well. But for me? It makes me wonder how much of his Troll who Knows Too Much persona is a bit of an act as well. 

You know, Sans’ deduction requires some keen observational skills - does he ever second-guess his conclusions? Living on constant high-alert that something has been reversed or that someone knows something they shouldn’t requires fostering a lot of paranoia, and that can’t be healthy for him. Is he ever overcome with doubt on whatever something was really an indication of a timeline RESET or not? How does he feel when he realizes something horrible happened on a previous timeline (for example, his brother dying) but he doesn’t know about the context to feel sure that he can stop it from happening again? 

I also think about it in terms of his relationship to Papyrus in general. Sans tends to hide so many things from Papyrus, especially in timelines where the Player is particularly kill-happy...

In part it’s about his perception that Papyrus’ kindness and pacifism is born from naïveté and thus the only way to preserve it is to hide the cruelty and harshness of the world from him (Undyne also does that). But also, with the paranoia and helplessness Sans lives in every day - is it any wonder that he might believe that ignorance is bliss?

I do truly think it’s beautiful how fandom can experiment with cool non-canon ideas! There are probably so many great emotional angsty ideas tied up to Sans remembering RESETs! I just feel it’ll be a shame if people ignore just how dire and depressing Sans’ canon situation also is!

[fizzy-blood]

Eyeless Jack x GN!Reader Headcanons (NSFW)

Another request from a friend on Discord (I'm 100% not hyperfixated on writing rn) so enjoy

18+ warning

This content Includes : Blood kink, size kink, corruption kink "knife" play, aggressive dom Jack, reader might have autassassinophilia, minor dubcon elements.

Ok to start off nice and simple this man will go from completely calm to being the most horny person you've ever met

Like one moment you're vibing in his room sitting next to him and the next you're being bent over his bed having your guts rearranged

Many things could cause this, the thing I like to think that causes this to happen the most is that Jack can tell if you're horny

Even the slightest changes to the way you look, act or smell will let him know

The point is if you're in the mood so is he

Some of the other things that get him going include stuff like borrowing his stuff or sitting on his lap (also if you somehow cut yourself and he notices it, let me just say that you will not be walking for days)

OK, I really want to do a dick description so I'm just gonna drop it here

This man is huge, sure his dick may not have been small when he was human but the whole demon thing definitely added to it

around 8.5 inch w a slight curve to the left, not super thick but noticeably larger then a humans

It's mostly gray like the rest of him but the head is like an inky black colour

Not only is he big but he also has multiple tongues, three to be exact and boy does he know how to use them

He'll eat you out regardless of your sex

Afab? He'll have your hips pinned to the bed and he abuses your clit w one tongue while the other two make there way inside you

And if you're amab you better prepare for the greatest blowjob in the history of all man kind alongside it

Now another thing about him being a demon is the idea of him going into heat

When he's not and you want sex he'll normally agree, not much to worry about there

But when he's in heat? Oh boy can it be a nightmare...

No self-control whatsoever, like at all

Even if you don't want sex in that moment he'll be pushing you onto your back, forcing his way inside of you

Even if you didn't consent at first and wanted him off of you, you'll definitely want him to finish what he started

When in heat he'll not really care if he hurts you

In fact, he gets off to it when in that state

Biting you hard enough to draw blood, scratching at your skin, even taking a scalpel and cutting you open to see your pretty red blood

Because of his height you'll probably be shorter than him (he's like 6'8ft) and he's completely fine with it

He likes how small you are compared to him, it makes him think of you as this small helpless being that he needs to protect and care for

Another thing is if you're a virgin

Jack probably hasn't had any sex since the whole cult thing but even he has some experience

So when finds out that you're a virgin? He has to restrain himself from ripping your clothes off and fucking you right then and there

Jack kinda sees you as this pure angelic being that wants to be tainted by him, so when he's fucking you you've gotta be ready for an amazing combination or degrading and praise

He'll tell you how much he loves you one minute and will be calling you a slut the next

BONUS!! (Aftercare)

You're obviously going to be super sore after sex and Jack is fully aware of that

Lucky for you, Jack is super sweet afterwards

Need water? On it.

Ice? Already there.

Still bleeding? He's already grabbing some band aids.

Want to take a bath? He'll join you and help you clean yourself up.

Again, you wont be able to walk for a little while afterwards so if if you need to go somewhere, Jack will carry you to wherever you need/want to be

He'll also lay next to you in bed or have you lay on top of him and let you sleep on him

That's all for now, hope you enjoyed! -Fizz

[adventuringblind]

All too Real

Norstappen x Reader

Genre: Smut and Horror (if you squint)

Summary: Max was supposed to be gone, so why is he here? More importantly, why does his hand on her mouth forceful movements have her bothered?

Warnings: Consensual non-consent, Knife play, Impact play, choking, Corruption, Bondage, Mean Dom Max, Sub Lando and Reader, PinV, Anal, Minor blood, Marking, Sensory deprivation, Max is really sweet in this I swear but it's really dark during the scene.

Notes: For the requester who sent me this, I didn’t think I was gonna be able to do it. Be proud of me please! T_T

Side Note: I appreciate everyone who sent me ideas! I can't wait to explore this dynamic more!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The moon illuminates the sky of Monaco. It’s past midnight; a time where people should be asleep.

Her and Lando sleep on Max’s side of the bed. He’d left earlier this evening to head back to Redbull HQ. He’d not specified what exactly they needed from him. Only that it was urgent fenough for him to get on a plane that same day. Not much of a hassles considering he has his own.

Max had promised he’d make as quick as he could and might even be back the following night. Still, it sucks not having him around at night. He has a way of making them feel much safer when he’s around. Which might just be because he looks intimidating despite being the embodiment of a teddy bear, but who is she to say?

He’d never hurt them. Is even picky about it during sex. Like he’s afraid he’ll shatter them if he lets go enough.

That could be why the hand clasped around her throat and palm over her mouth scare her into compliance. Being met with familiar eyes in this situation is not something anybody wants.

Her heavy breaths are muffled against Max’s hand. The menacing glint that over takes cerulean blue is something she’s only seen when he gets competitive.

The hand around her throat comes off slowly and fishes something from his pocket. A piece of cloth makes its way to her mouth. He slips it in underneath his hand, gagging her and stopping her from forming any coherent words.

She complies with his harsh movements. No point in fighting him, he’s too strong for that. He pulls zip ties from somewhere - probably his pocket again - and wrangles her wrists behind her.

The adrenaline coursing through every fiber of her being only gets worse when he tosses her onto the floor and repeats the actions for Lando. A bit different. A hand over his eyes instead of around his throat.

the Brit fights back more then she did. He’s unable to see who it is he’s fighting, making things more difficult for Max. The inkling he might win out is soon discarded as he is pinned to the bed underneath Max’s weight.

The sweats and boxers come down with ease, leaving the Brit entirely bare. Max leaves him there, only able to yell into the cloth and thrashing around trying to escape. A bit useless without his hands.

Max pulls her upward, back onto the bed next to Lando. He stand at the edge and pulls his own shirt off. “So pretty and helpless, all for me.” The sound of the switchblade opening has her eyes watering. He crawls over her, the moon glinting off the metal as he moves. “Innocent and ready to be broken by me. Only, for me.”

The flat of the blade runs against her skin. “Would you like that? I’d keep you safe, tucked away, only for me to play with. All mine.” The knife tip presses into her skin. She sucks in through her teeth, far too aroused by this new side of max. He gently drags the sharp point against her. It dawns on her that she wants this. She craves Max marking her.

Max slips the knife under where her panties are resting her hip. He cuts away the dainty piece of fabric. “What do you think Lando? Which one of you should I break first?” He flips Lando over onto his back. Both of them being eaten alive by his gaze, like a hunter who has successfully captured his prey.

She’s glad to see she’s not the only one aroused. The hard-on Lando is sporting has Max licking his lips. He’s whining and whimpering into the gag. He teases Lando’s aching cock with the dull end and His back arches off the bed. His spine bending him further into the sensation.

Max pulls away, leaving Lando writhing. He grabs her by the ankle and pulls her level to Lando’s crotch. Instinctively, she opens her mouth. Which is a great decision as he shoves her head into Lando. Choked by surprise and unprepared. He grabs the back of her head and holds her there. “Do you want to breathe, schat? Or are you being pliant because you’re just that much of a slut?”

The bit of air she had in her lungs starts to deplete. The lightheaded feeling has tears running down her cheeks. Max doesn’t pull her off until she’s frantically trying to pull herself off. He keeps his hand on her, not letting her go far. “Big breath for me.” She inhales as deep as she can and he solves her back down.

Large hands - Max’s hands - force her legs apart. He slips two fingers in her and aggressively pumps them in and out. “Awe, still so tight but so. Fucking. Wet~” Each word punctuated with a progressively harder thrust. er body moves back and forth according to Max’s will helping her make Lando get some relief.

In a few quick movements, he has rid himself of the rest of his clothes. He climbs back on top and throws on old her legs over his shoulder. He doesn’t giver her time to think about it. “Fuck, you feel so good for me. Look at you! You’re crying for it!” The pace he sets is unrelenting. Each snap of his hips has her choking further on Lando.

She can feel Lando trying to rut his hips and the sharp sound from Max’s hand hitting his bare skin. Lando shrieks in pain and stops his moving. “You get what I give you. You are mine, remember? Or are you already fucked dumb because of her pretty mouth?”

Curse Max and his good stamina. She’s helpless to push him off her, struggling to breathe, the knife now pressing into her hip. The first cut is quick and clean. A light little thing that barely stings. The second one is harder. Same for the following ones; each more drawn out then the last despite being relatively the same size.

She’s wailing, crying, the lines between pleasure and pain have faded into each other. She finished at some point but Max hasn't stopped. In fact, he's going harder.

His voice is surrounding her. It's falling over her despite both their desperate cries.

Everything stops far to abruptly. Max pulls out of her and drags Lando away. The crying starts when she doesn't know where either of them are. Lost in all the mixed feelings; the adrenaline, pleasure, and pain.

The blood running down her thigh is warm and think. She wonders, briefly, if it's staining the sheets beneath her.

"Come on schat, you can take it." Make coos it so gently despite the despite monas coming from behind Lando's gag. "Or do you need more? Is that what all these desperate noises are for? You're a slut who needs it all?"

Max is the puppet master and her and Lando are attached to the strings. The Brit is shoved between her legs. Neither of them standing a chance.

Her overstimulated pussy is once again subjected to the brutality of Lando. More Max, with the way she can see Max pressed behind him, snapping his hips.

Lando is screaming into her shoulder. She's to fucked to even think about Max and the fact he's not even supposed to be here.

Max stutters. Lando finished ages ago, She counts three. Hers started blurring together and just didn't stop.

The silence as Max slows down is to much. She need him to talk, she'll except anything at this point.

The blood from Lando's thigh is sticking to her. They match now and she isn't even sure when it happened.

Max doesn't pull out of Lando, he runs his fingers across Lando's skin and pulls his blindfold off. Next comes the gag, hers and Lando's. Neither of them can say anything.

No, the tears start instead of the words. Max scrambles to get them situated comfortably on the bed and turns the lights on. He leans them against his own body, whispering to them about how good they did.

"Was that to much? Did I take it to far? I tried to hit everything you said and I think I did-"

"Good, overwhelmed, scary." Lando pants against his skin.

She tries to get Max to pet her head. He gets the hint and complies. "You went to the Milton-Keynes. Did you plan this?"

"I've spent the last two months researching, preparing, and planning. Mostly because Lando said that I wouldn't do it."

"I said you thought we were fragile and you were to scared to actually do it."

"And do you still think that?" Lando shakes his head. The blush on his cheeks evident behind the tear tracks.

"Max-" she whines. "-The sheets ae red now."

"I know love, just wanted to calm down before I moved you two anywhere. First I'll get you patched up, which I already have the first aid ready. Next is a bath and I will change our sheets because I purchased new ones. Then food and water and me showering you in my affection."

Her and Lando look at each other and both of them break out into smiley giggles. "Max, did you know that we love you?"

"The fact you're not trying to run the opposite direction of me makes me think that." Max carries them one by one to the bathroom counter. "I actually thought I went to far the second Lando started fighting me."

"Then I heard your voice and got hard." Lando proudly points out. His attempts at reassuring the dutchman that he had a good time.

"Next time, I'm ditching the blindfold."

"This implies there will be a next time."

"If there is, can we maybe not bite my dick off?"

She looks away, embarrassed at the act of trying to cannibalize her poor boyfriend.

"Do you two know how long we went for? Lan, she had her jaw like that for over a half hour."

Lando gapes at him. "I owe you a jaw massage... but please, I would like to keep my best asset attached."

Her and Max roll their eyes. Her delirious laughs fill the space as Max runs the bath. "Nah, your best feature is your mouth."

"Is that because of my tongue?"

Max glances over his shoulder. "No, it's because it's big, loud, and creates these scenarios."

Not like she can complain. She did want it and so did Lando. And with the 'MV' now plastered to their thighs, she can't help but think Max enjoyed himself a little too.

[dragon-ascent]

Imagine pre Liyue Zhongli getting all sad and lethargic all of a sudden which gets Guizhong and all the adepti worried cause what could’ve gotten the great dragon god so sad all of a sudden?? Then when they finally decided to question Zhongli and see what’s wrong he starts going on and on about how he misses his mortal spouse who’s gone and how much he prays to see them again, and now the adepti/gods are all like “Oh no did death finally take its toll on the poor mortal?” And try to comfort Zhongli through his loss….

Then turns out his spouse is pretty much 100% fine they’ve just come down with a cold and haven’t been able to make the trek up to Zhongli’s abode while they recover.. and Zhongli knows about this

HAHA omg you're cooking and it's 1000% something he'd do lmao. At first he'd also assume that the cold means his spouse is going to pass - which elicits a whooole other reaction from the poor god. But anyway. Once that's been explained and out of the way, he'd stick to being all sad and pouty, just staring off into the horizon as though you're off at war and he's a helpless maiden waiting for you to get back.

He might even ask Ping and/or Guizhong if they could construe sorrowful melodies with a ring of longing and hope, in hopes the tune can reach your ears. He'd etch little pieces of poetry on leaves and cast them to the wind, murmuring your name a thousand times.

And once you've recovered? Oh boy Rex is gonna be doting on you all day and night in hopes of ensuring you'll never fall sick.

[sitepathos]

I just found your story 'from gold to mold' and I did read all these chapters, one after another. I ate it all like I was fasting all day!! Your writing is so good I'm in love. I even got my sibling to it just so I can have someone to talk to about it!!! (Sorry, English is not my first language)

I do actually have a question and a suggestion:

1| Y/N had a scar because of Damian but he lost it after chapter 3. But it seems Alfred didn't notice it, it was not even mentioned that he noticed it was gone. It made me want to see his mind. Does he know who is Y/N?

2| About Y/N who was in like a coma state. From what I know his muscles will be so weak he will have a hard time to even sit up and every move with his head will make him dizzy because of blood circulation being slower than normal because he is sitting in one place most of the time. So just thinking of him coming out of his mind, having a hard time to even move, feeling super dizzy and just after seeing Alfred, Bruce walk in and call him "my baby doy!" If I'm Y/N I'll cring so hard ma butt checks will clap. (⁠ノ⁠ಠ⁠益⁠ಠ⁠)⁠ノ

I don't think he will be capable of screaming much because he didn't raise his voice for a month (and didn't talk much as well). His trout muscles will be weeker and he will probably hurt it from screaming.

If we combine all of this the amount of rage, hate and pain, helplessness and stress Y/N have will be royal! emotions affect the body more than we think! this amount of negative emotions will be distractive to Y/N's health. (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

Anyway please take care of yourself and stay healthy, I hope you the best. ⊂⁠(⁠・⁠▽⁠・⁠⊂⁠)

Yeah, that’s a bit of an oversight by me, sorry! I actually had it on my mind to include in Chapter 5, but it slipped my mind. That man knows everything about everyone in the Wayne Family and knows when something is wrong, so he’d totally know something happened if he saw your scar missing.

But, it was a small scar, easy to miss if you didn’t know any better, but every time you looked in a mirror, it was the first thing you noticed about your reflection. Maybe he thought you found some product to conceal it because he knew how much you hated it and Damian for giving it to you. Plus, he noticed your behavior changed and that’s what he was mostly focused on.

Well, that and trying to get your “family” to notice you.

Also, about the scenario about you coming out of your coma: they might have moved your limbs to prevent atrophy, but not being able to move them at all still takes a toll on them. So, you’re not gonna be running any marathons or lifting heavy weights any time soon.

But, your rage burns bright and your hate for them is so great, you don’t care about your body’s condition and willing to make your condition worse just to say how you feel about them.

To see you hurting yourself just to call them every name in the book really opens their eyes to how they’ve wronged you.

It may take some time, but eventually you’ll calm down and when you do, they’ll swoop in and bring you back into the family.

They capture criminals and lock them up only for them to escape and do it all again, they have the patience of saints (despite being the farthest thing from it).

[buttdumplin]

One week post hysterectomy and you're ready to pull out your hair and theirs. Ale and Rudy can help.

cw: poly!141 x transmasc latine!reader, established relationship, mexican slang, spanish-speaking reader word count: 1620

You don’t often have to remind yourself how much you love your partners, how you cherish them, because it comes so naturally. But with the hovering and the near constant check-ins and the way they won’t let you even walk on your own, you have to recite a mantra about it so you don’t pull out your own hair.

“Yall realize that 6-8 weeks of recovery does not mean 6-8 weeks of being bed bound, right?”

John is almost too quick to answer, “Hasn’t even been a full week yet. You need to take it slow.”

“None of you ever take it this slow when you’re injured.”

“None of us have to deal with that major of a surgery usually.”

There’s plenty of pillows around you, you can chuck one at his head without it affecting your posture. You spend a second looking for the right one to throw, but the pillows John bought you are slightly bigger than what you can currently lift. Motherfucker has the gall to grin at you, proud of himself.

Needing to at least exit the room, you wiggle around in the nest of pillows as much as you can without hurting yourself. A too hard lunge makes you gasp and Simon appears at your side, reaching in with strong arms to pull you free from the tender trap. You sit him down once you’re on your feet, motioning for him to stay there. You can make the walk to the bathroom. You should make the walk to the bathroom. You need to make the walk to the bathroom.

“Remember not to strain yourself,” he calls from the bed, edge in his voice making it clear that he’s only barely able to stay where you left him.

Any other time, any other one of them, you’d be turning and mocking them with an “okay mom.” In fact, you still want to with all the careful tiptoeing, but when you turn and find those big brown eyes full of soft concern, the anger dissipates. Simon is in uncharted waters, feeling helpless and clinging to what he can do for you. His hands clutch the bedding under him, knuckles turned white.

You answer him softly, “I will Moncho, thank you.”

As silent as he is, you know he’s standing outside the door the moment you close it, waiting for your call should you need him. It’s usually not a problem, but having to swear to no locked doors for the foreseeable future makes you move carefully in the bathroom. The last thing you need right now is to grunt a little too loudly and scare Simon. 

“You know you don’t all have to stay housebound, right?” you try to keep your tone friendly as you open the door. “Yall can take turns stepping out for groceries or snacks.”

“Everything delivers now, love,” Kyle sounds a little too smiley for your liking right now.

“I just don’t want yall to get bored, cooped up.”

Johnny’s laughter drifts in from the kitchen, “Please, we’d stay home every day if we could. Delighted we can now.”

There has to be fucking something. They’re sweet, they’re lovely. The surgery and recovery would be impossible without them. But there has the be some fucking way to not have all eyes on you every minute of every day. You ease back into the plush nest made for you, trying to drum something up. Thankfully, the sound of the doorbell saves you from spiraling deeper into your frustration.

“Damn, yall really did order everything for delivery.”

Johnny sprints for the door, excitement in his eyes, “This might be one of the things we ordered for you specifically.”

Swear to god, if they ordered more of those impossible compression socks, they’re never gonna hear the end of it. At least it’s been a good day. You’ve got clean sheets and bedding, you showered with little to no pain (Simon insisted on joining you to help), and the incision sites are healing well. The bladder pain you could do without, though. 

“Special delivery,” a new voice sings. Two?

“Ale! Fito!” you surge forward to stand, but too many men shouting in protest sits you back down. “What are yall doing here?”

They make their way through the pillows to greet you properly, facial hair rasping against your cheek. Thank fuck for that shower earlier. Can’t be too mad about this being orchestrated now. 

Ale smiles bright, plopping down next to you, “Un pajarito medio nalgón-”

“Cuatro,” Rudy interrupts, taking a seat much more gently, “Cuatro pajaritos bastante nalgones.” 

“Simón, Simón. Cuatro nos pidieron un favor.”

“We did say ‘special delivery’.”

They each place a white box in front of you. No labels or tape, just folded closed gently. The folded pieces bloom open in their hands, revealing a giant ziploc bag full of lots of little somethings in each. You can make out little star and flower shapes, all coated in a clumping white powder.

“Are these my tía’s cookies?” 

Ale sucks his teeth, wrapping an arm around you, “Clarín cornetas, mi niño.”

“Which of you did she flirt with?”

“Both,” Rudy chuckles, “We got that bordertown charm.”

It’s then that you remember your tía’s bordertown and their bordertown are on opposite sides of Texas. Not only did they have to deal with her shameless flirting for who knows how long, sweet fools must have gone so far out of their way to get these. And the sheer care they must have put into the transportation. These cookies are frail and yet so few of them are broken. They even accounted for the lard used in them, little ice packs peek out from underneath the large ziploc bags. Tears blur your vision, their voices going out of focus as they give you updates on your family.

“There is one condition though,” Rudy hands you a tissue. “One bag is for you, and the other is for them to share.”

Johnny comes running in from the kitchen again, “Wait, just one for all four of us?”

“That’s what Tití said.”

“Fuck, I really thought she liked us,” Johnny stands completely still for a minute, clearly reviewing the interactions they’ve had with your tía in his mind, cookies forgotten. 

Kyle takes their bag, diving into it immediately and coating his chin in the powdered sugar falling from the cookie. It doesn’t take long for the other 3 to converge around the bag after that. They’ve only had these cookies once before, at your youngest cousin’s quince, which was full of too many “so exactly how are you related?” questions. Your tía says she saves them for special occasions, but you know that the labor that goes into making them is too much for the cookies to be in regular rotation. Either way, they’re a true gift. Your cousins must have helped her this time, the start and flower shapes are just off enough to not fit into your tía’s perfectionism. It won’t take a whole lot of convincing to get Simon to use his fancy calligraphy to write them a thank-you note.

“We were also promised grilled goods upon arrival?” Ale speaks loudly over the cookie commotion.

John perks up at that, faint surprise on his face.

Kyle makes an excited noise around a mouthful of cookie, speaking from the corner of his mouth, “Right, and we’ve got everything set for the chef.” He wrangles John towards the backyard. 

Simon looks worried as Johnny approaches him, clearly meaning to take him to the backyard as well. He’s been firmly by your side since they brought you home from the hospital. He looks over at you, tracing your figure slowly, double-checking every inch of you. Taking a deep breath, he stiffens.

“We’ll look after your boy,” Rudy says softly.

“Aquí te espero, amor.”

He nods, your words enough to ease him through the door. 

With all the prep before the surgery, a couple of really intense weeks where you all worked to prime the house for recovery, this is the first chance you’ve gotten to exist without them being in the same room. And it’s so fucking nice. You couldn’t ask for better partners, but it’s almost relieving to not have to worry about accidentally setting one of them off and launching them into motherhenning. Rudy and Ale have clearly been given the task of looking after you, but even just having new faces to talk to is refreshing.

“Which one of them set this up?” you ask them.

“It was less a request and more a suggestion from us,” Rudy says.

“Bien los conocemos,” Ale adds. “Te quejas, pero bien chiple que te tienen.”

You grin, not even trying to deny it.

It’s muted, but the sounds of the boys chatting drifts into the room. Some back and forth about marinating and time, some laughing about sneaking around. You can’t quite see them from your window, but it’s reassuring to know that this time is helping them relax as well. 

Ale and Rudy tell you more about their trip to visit your tía, passing along the greetings and well wishes your family sent you. It’s an easy rhythm: one talks, the other corrects, and you get to giggle as you listen. Then you swap: you talk, Ale listens, Rudy shushes him. It’s soothing in a way that reminds you so much of home, the ruckus everywhere and laughter echoing. When the tension in your shoulders has finally slipped away, Ale turns to you, curious and serious.

“So about this recovery period,” he says.

“And a grueling schedule before the surgery?” mischief lights Rudy’s eyes.

You groan, their cackling drowning out the sound of you swatting at their chests. 

[heartysworld]

Never Again || Luke Castellan x Reader

W.C: 2.3k

Warnings: none that I could think of

A/N: Requests are open everyone! I'll start working on them as soon as I finish the 2 fics from my poll (this is one of them) Also, I've scheduled this to be posted at 4AM local time where I live, so surprise me when i wake up (I've had the shittiest day ever).

My Newest Fic <3

You grew up as a happy child, content with life and the many siblings you had. It was never boring in the Apollo Cabin, that’s for sure. As you grew she found yourself surrounded by friends, one curly-haired boy in particular standing out. The moment Luke arrived at camp he couldn’t seem to be able to take his eyes off the pretty girl who was the first thing he saw in the infirmary once he opened his eyes after that tragic night.

He spent month chasing after her, wanting to become her friend first before she could bring herself to even consider him something more than that. Everyone at camp witnessed the innocent friendship the two shared blossom into something bigger, stronger and passionate. Luke and Y/N were the sweethearts of Camp Half-Blood by the time the Apollo girl turned seventeen.

Nobody expected what was about to happen the night everything changed between the two. Luke and Y/N had just gotten off counselor duties and had headed out towards the lake where they could have some much-needed peace and quiet. Cuddled together the two laid over a blanket near the water, admiring the start-lit sky than hung above them.

 That was all Luke ever wanted, peace and happiness with the girl he loved so dearly. The two had even spoken about their plans after it was time to leave the camp. They planned on moving in together, maybe going to college if they managed to stabilize their hectic lives.

The last thing from that night in Y/N’s mind was Luke calling her name, despair and fear laced with his loud voice. Then, everything went black.

‘’Look who’s finally awake. You gave us quite the scare, Y/N, we were starting to worry.’’ One of your brother said as he approached your bed, helping you settle against the wall and handing you a glass of water.

‘’What…what happened?’’ you asked, voice hoarse and quiet.

‘’Michael, what happened?’’ you asked more insistently this time.

‘’I might get into trouble for even opening my mouth but…you had a vision, Y/N. Chiron thinks you are a seer, him and Mr. D have been going over possible triggers that might have caused the outburst that you had. It was scary, Y/N, I’m not gonna lie to you. Luke was scared shitless, the two of you were together when it happened. He might be one of our strongest camp mates but three nights ago he looked so weak and helpless. It was as if I he was a whole different person.’’ Your brother said. His words felt like a bucket of cold water that was poured over you.

The only thought in your mind now was Luke. Where was he? Was he fine? Had he come to check up on you while you were unconscious? Was it was over?

‘’Where’s Luke? Have you seen him?’’ you asked, a concerned expression present on your tires face.

‘’He came a couple of times but he left quickly. I don’t think he was able to bring himself to stay longer, you know…with his mom and everything.’’ Michael said, the last part of his sentence barely audible.

‘’I have to go find him, come on help me get up.’’ You said, using all of your strength to get up from the bed, unsuccessfully. Your libs felt as heavy as concrete.

‘’Hey, hey calm down! Before you do something stupid and fall unconscious, again I have to go and tell Chiron you’re awake. His orders!’’ your brother helped you sit back down on the bed before exiting the infirmary to go look for the old man.

After what felt like an eternity, Chiron entered the infirmary, a solemn expression on his face. He approached your bed, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and responsibility.

"Y/N, I'm glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?" Chiron inquired, his voice gentle yet firm.

"I need to find Luke," you replied urgently, ignoring the question about your well-being. "I need to talk to him."

Chiron sighed, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered your request. "Y/N, you need to rest. We're still trying to contact Apollo to understand the nature of your abilities. Running around in your condition is not advisable."

"I don't care," you insisted, frustration and worry etched on your face. "I need to find him. I need to know if... if it's over between us."

Chiron regarded you for a moment before nodding understandingly. "Very well. I will allow you to go to your cabin and rest. But promise me, you'll take it easy. We'll continue our efforts to contact Apollo, and we'll keep you informed."

You nodded, grateful for the permission to leave the infirmary. As you made your way to Cabin 7, thoughts of Luke and the uncertain future raced through your mind. When you entered, the familiar surroundings offered little comfort. It was supposed to be a place of solace, but now it felt like a battleground of emotions.

Resting on your bed, you couldn't shake off the anxiety that gnawed at you. Despite your exhaustion, you couldn't find peace. The weight of the unknown, coupled with the fear of losing Luke, lingered in the air.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, you decided to search for Luke. You needed answers, closure, anything to ease the turmoil within you. You needed to know whether the meddling of the Gods with the human world was about to take away the one person you love the most. With determination, you headed towards the training grounds where you often found him honing his skills.

The training area was dimly lit, shadows dancing with each flicker of torchlight. Luke was there, his back turned to you as he practiced his swordsmanship. His shirt was drenched with sweat, not leaving much to one’s imagination. If the situation wasn’t as serious, you’d be doing something completely different now. As you approached, his muscled visibly tensed. Luke had always been able to sense whenever you were around.

"L-Luke," you stammered, uncertainty lacing your voice.

He turned to face you, his expression unreadable. "Y/N," he acknowledged, but there was a coldness in his eyes and voice, one that hadn't been there before.

"I need to talk to you," you whispered, your heart pounding. You’ve always felt calm in Luke’s presence before. The two of you even joked at some point that he was your personal calming agent, but now, everything felt completely different. You felt so out of place that it was unbelievable.

He hesitated, then sighed, sheathing his sword. "Can it wait? I'm not in the mood for a conversation right now." Avoiding the problem was one of Luke’s fatal flaws, at least when It came to your relationship.

"No, it can't," you insisted, your emotions bubbling to the surface. "Is it over, Luke? Do you no longer want to be with me?" You cut straight to the point. ‘’I’ve been awake for hours and not even once have you tried to approach me to see how I am, if I’m even alive and breathing!’’

His eyes flickered with a mix of pain and frustration. "Y/N, it's not that simple. I... I can't."

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt the ground beneath you crumble. "Can't what? Luke, please, I need to understand."

A heavy silence hung between you before he spoke, his voice strained. "I haven't been able to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her—my mother, then I see you. The accident, the fear in hers and your eyes from that night. It haunts me, Y/N."

You didn’t need to hear him say it that he needed to feel your touch at that moment. Carefully, step by step you got closer to him until your arms enveloped his much larger and warmer form. The second your skin came in touch with Luke’s his arm went around you like a protective barrier. He nuzzled his head in the crook of you neck, breathing in the sweet scent that he had so dearly missed the past three days. You felt the warm tears stream down the skin of you neck and right at that moment you could swear that you felt your heart shatter for the vulnerable boy who stood in your arms.

The silence that followed was suffocating, the heavy weight of unspoken emotions pressing down on both of you. Luke's grip on you tightened, as if he was afraid that if he let go, you would disappear like a phantom of his imagination.

"You don't understand, Y/N," he whispered, his voice strained. "I keep seeing her, her face contorted in fear. I hear her screams. It's like a never-ending nightmare, and I'm trapped."

You pulled back slightly, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Luke, I'm not her. I'm not your mother. The circumstances are different. What happened to her was terrible, but we have to keep moving forward. We can face this together. I won't let you go through it alone."

He closed his eyes, his breath shaky. "I'm scared, Y/N. Scared of losing you, scared of repeating the past."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you fought to keep your voice steady. "I'm scared too, Luke. But we can't let fear control us. We can't let it destroy what we have. You are the love of my life, Luke, I won’t allow the Gods’ meddling with our world to ruin us."

He opened his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability and pain that he had been hiding. "I love you, Y/N. I can't bear the thought of something happening to you because of me."

Gently, you wiped away his tears with your thumbs. "I love you too, Luke. But we can't let fear dictate our choices. We have to find a way to move forward, together."

His lips quivered as he struggled to find the right words. "I can't promise it'll be easy. I can't promise I won't be haunted by the past.But I promise to try my hardest to protect you from any danger that threatens to take you from me. I’d rather watch the world go up in flames than have you suffer."

You nodded, your heart breaking for the man you loved. "I don't need promises, Luke. I just need you. We'll face whatever comes our way, you and me."

As you spoke, the moonlight filtered through the leaves above, casting a gentle glow on both of you. The training grounds, once filled with the clash of swords and the echoes of laughter, now bore witness to a somber moment between two souls entwined by fate.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Luke whispered, his voice barely audible. "I never wanted to hurt you." You shook your head, tears rolling down your cheeks. "We've both been hurt, Luke. However, we can heal together. Just don't shut me out."

A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he rested his forehead against yours. "I don't deserve you, Y/N."

"Deserving has nothing to do with it," you replied, your voice soft but determined. "Love isn't about deserving; it's about choosing to be with someone, flaws and all."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms a comforting refuge. "I don't want to lose you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion.

"I don't want to lose you either," you whispered, your words muffled against his chest.

The nights turned into days, and with each sunrise, a semblance of healing took place. Luke and you faced the challenges of you newfound abilities together, navigating the labyrinth of their emotions. In the quiet moments, you found solace in each other's presence, and in the stormy ones, you stood united against the uncertainties that lingered.

You spent the rest of the night tightly wrapped in the embrace of the man you loved. Luke clung to you for dear life as he slept. You could tell that he needed this even more than you did.

One evening, as the campfire crackled under the starlit sky, Luke took your hand in his, sending a silent invitation to stroll around the lake. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow on their faces. The air was thick with the unspoken, the weight of your shared experiences hanging between you.

You stopped suddenly, turning to face Luke, your eyes searching his for reassurance. "We can do this, Luke. We can face whatever comes our way."

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Together."

As if drawn by an invisible force, your lips met in a gentle and tentative kiss. It was a kiss filled with the promise of a new beginning, a silent affirmation that love could triumph over even the darkest of shadows. The world around you seemed to fade, leaving only the soft sounds of nature, labored breaths and the beating of you hearts.

When you pulled away, you admired the way the moonlight reflected in Luke’s  eyes. Everything was quiet. No words were needed. In that kiss, you two found a renewal of hope, a rekindling of the flame that had flickered in the face of adversity.

"I love you," Luke whispered, his forehead resting against you.

"I love you too," You replied, a warmth spreading through her chest.

My Newest Fic <3

Hand in hand, you continued you walk along the lake, leaving behind the ghosts of the past. As you and him disappeared into the night, the echoes of your footsteps mingled with the whispers of the wind, carrying the promise of a future built on resilience, understanding, and the enduring power of love.

[penny00dreadful]

Rookie Mistake

AO3

17th August 2023

Someone was following him home. 

They were keeping their distance at least. But they'd been keeping their distance through the last three turns.

They could, at the very least, try not to make it obvious what they were doing.

Usually someone following him wouldn’t be a problem. Steve was an expert at what he did and losing a person who was tailing him was easy.

Or it used to be anyway.

His back had taken much longer to heal than any of them had expected and he’d been told his chances of walking again were fifty-fifty. Pretty much a coin toss.

But he’d started to get the feeling back in his legs again around the three month mark. While all of it still hadn’t returned and the doctors were unsure if it ever would, he could at least walk again.

He couldn’t move as fast nowadays, though the cane helped. But it didn’t help enough to escape from his followers' sight.

He was slow, he couldn’t run and he couldn’t stand for extended periods of time. 

He could walk for even less. Which was probably why Claire at the gas station had kept shooting him concerned glances. 

Walking to and from there was pretty much the extent of what he could do in a day. 

Barely fifteen minutes there and back, but enough to have him exhausted and trying to keep the pain at bay.

Eddie was gonna lose his fucking mind once he found out. He worried too much. Steve still remembered the first words he heard when he woke up in the hospital.

“If you ever do that to me again, I swear to god sweetheart, I’ll take you out myself.” Spoken through teary eyes and with shaking hands as he reached for him, like if he didn’t touch him immediately Steve would drift back off into a coma.

This was the first time Steve had been home alone for an extended period of time since he'd been recovering. Eddie had looked at him with a stern pointed finger and an order not to do anything stupid.

So of course he had decided he was going to walk to the nearby gas station to pick up some of their favourite snacks. 

They were gonna do a lazy streaming binge session later that evening, complete with a blanket fort like little kids, when Eddie got back from helping at the garage with Gareth.

What else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t drive anymore. He didn’t have the strength in his legs for the pedals.

And the gas station was just outside the estate they’d chosen to settle in. Eddie had wanted to be closer to his Uncle Wayne and be able to see his friends again and Steve could never refuse him that.

Except now he was limping home, cane in one hand, paper bag of junk food in the other, with pain and exhaustion shooting up his legs, right into his weakened back. 

He could barely even focus on the space around him, he was concentrating so hard on just putting one foot in front of the other and getting home without passing out from the pain, never mind fighting off an assailant.

In his heyday he wouldn’t even have had to think about how he would handle this situation.

Now, however. Now he felt so fucking helpless. 

There was a gun concealed in a secret pocket just inside the front door. If he could just get to it, he might make it out of whatever this was. 

Even though Steve was on medical leave and Eddie was… retired, old habits die hard. They’d never not be trained to be killers and expect something around every corner.

God, he’d been so stupid. This was so stupid. Eddie would never let him hear the end of it. 

Steve would be lucky if he could keep upright once he hit the front door, everything was so painful.

But Steve was well versed in pain. Literally trained in it. Torture, interrogation, field medicine, pushing past injuries to get the job done. Steve had handled it all, always dreading the idea of being put behind a desk. Even now he was determined to make sure that didn’t happen. 

No offence to Robin and her job. He’d be dead ten times over without her but it just wasn’t something he could fathom doing. 

There was a mentor position opening up though. 

Dimitri was retiring to spend more time with his family which meant that Steve could possibly be looking after the new recruits in the near future.

Y’know.

If he didn’t fucking die here and now at the hands of some idiot lacking subtlety.

As far as anyone in the neighbourhood knew, Steve had moved to the area with his husband while recovering from a catastrophic fall, which wasn’t exactly incorrect.

The best lies were the ones that had truth in them.

And the neighbours had all been very… neighbourly. It was a little foreign to him. He was used to growing up in upper class neighbourhoods where he would maybe shoot a quick smile and a hello towards the couple across the road but apart from that, he pretended they didn’t exist and vice versa.

But here, though it was a solid middle class suburb, they all actually spoke to each other. 

Bastien would usually chat while he was out walking his golden retriever named Bread. 

Lucy and Anthony, a couple in their eighties, knew everything about everyone and gave them the best neighbourhood gossip. 

Sandra loved hosting a cookout and invited them every single time. 

Even the neighbourhood kids were all very sweet for a bunch of teenagers.

Best of all was their next door neighbour, Chrissy.

She had knocked on their front door with a freshly baked apple pie in one hand and an invite to her big blowout divorce celebration in the other. It was only the day after they’d moved in and Steve had hobbled downstairs to find her and Eddie chatting like they’d known each other forever.

Steve had originally worried they were only being included in these events as the token queers of the neighbourhood. Just so all these middle classers could pat themselves on the back for their diversity but those worries were quickly put to rest.

Their acceptance was quiet. It wasn’t braggadocious. It was sweet.

Chrissy's divorce party had been a wild night full of karaoke, an obscene amount of chinese food and glass upon glass of pink, glittery, fruity cocktails. 

All things that Jason had hated. 

Things Chrissy loved. 

Things she hadn’t been able to enjoy in her own home in years. But now she was free to do whatever her heart desired. 

Chrissy deserved way better than Jason anyway.

She had leaned into Eddie’s side and taken Steve’s hand in hers and slurred that she wanted “what you guys have. You’re so sweet to each other. How long have you been together?”

They had made eye contact over her head with raised eyebrows. 

The start of their relationship was always a bit of a blurred line.

“Seven, eight years maybe?” Eddie had said, holding her steady with an arm around her waist.

“Really?” She’d asked, blinking her big eyes up at the two of them. “That’s such a long time. Jason and I got married after a year. Don’t do that.” She added, pointing back and forth at the two of them. “It’s a bad idea.”

Steve patted the hand that was held in his. “We won’t. Don’t worry.” 

Especially considering they’d already been married two years by then. 

As the night wore on and more and more stories had come out about what Chrissy’s marriage had been like, Eddie had offered, with three cocktail umbrellas in his hair and a Pink Lady in his hand, to hunt Jason down and make him disappear. 

Chrissy had giggled with a roll of her eyes. 

"Oh sure, you big softie.” She said as she lightly swatted his arm. “If he starts calling around unannounced again, then go ahead."

Eddie had smiled, sweet and innocent, but his eyes had been sharp and hard and Jason needed to watch his fucking back.

Steve had been able to convince him to at least give Jason a warning the first time, before he completely wiped the guy from existence. 

But only one warning was all Eddie would concede to with a pout and a mutter of ‘You’re no fun’. 

If Jason couldn’t take a hint and kept coming around after that, it wasn't Steve's problem anymore.

In general their time in the neighbourhood was nice. It was domestic. The area was safe and sleepy and naive to most of the wrongs of the world. 

It was something Steve and Eddie had never had the chance to have, especially considering the start of their relationship had been so… combative.

Which is what made the guy trailing behind him stick out like a penguin in the desert.

He was unfamiliar.

In an ill fitting black suit that looked like something out of a bad spy movie and greasy slicked back hair.

Steve wasn’t scared of him. 

He was clearly inexperienced. 

Or just stupid.

The guy kept his gaze locked on his target, one hand constantly in his pocket and a look of grim determination on his face. 

Obvious.

But he also seemed to be growing in confidence too. Getting slowly closer and closer.

Steve kept his pace slow and relaxed, trying his best to hide the pain and exhaustion he was feeling sinking into his back and down his legs.

And trying to hide the fact that he knew a fucking idiot was tailing him.

If some fucking newbie gang member or whatever was able to take him down because Steve couldn’t help but push himself, he was going to be so pissed off.

All he needed to do was get inside. 

Unlock the door, get inside and he’d be able to grab one of their concealed weapons and take care of whatever this was.

Easy peasy.

Or it would have been easy peasy if not for the second guy.

The second guy who’d descended on him just as he pushed his front door open, looping an arm around his neck. 

He dropped his bag and his cane, scrabbling against the hold and just barely brushing the hidden gun compartment with his fingers before he felt it.

The sharp sting of a needle in his neck and the cold of whatever it was spreading through his veins. 

The last thought that ran through his head before everything went black was that Eddie was going to be so dramatic about this.

He didn’t know how long it was before he woke up but he could take a guess.

It was an empty warehouse he was being kept in, if the bare concrete walls, metal roof and high ceilings were anything to go by. 

The windows were right at the top, only letting the barest sliver of orange daylight through. 

The sun was low enough Steve guessed he’d only been out for an hour. 

The whole place smelled of damp and was shrouded in shadow, the only light being that bit of orange sun and one bare light bulb hanging over his head.

Brimborn Steelworks, he thought. 

He could smell the sea air, hear gulls outside, and the warehouse had been abandoned for as long as they’d been in the area so it was a pretty safe bet.

Just outside the circle of light he was washed in, he could hear muttering and bodies shuffling around. 

About four by his estimation, along with the sound of metal parts shifting against each other. 

Guns. 

Fantastic. 

Just what he fucking needed.

His hands were knotted behind his back, not even tied to the chair he was sitting on. Who used rope to tie people up anymore?

Aside from certain… intimate circumstances, Steve hadn’t had to deal with rope in ages.

Not since… well.

It was usually zip ties or duct tape that were used. 

Much quicker, much easier to conceal in pockets or pouches.

And judging by how he was tied, fingers pointed downwards, inner wrist to inner wrist and just a bit too tightly, these guys had absolutely no experience with ropes. 

Kinky or not.

They hadn’t even bothered to blindfold him.

Or gag him.

Eddie would have never been so sloppy. He could’ve done better than this to Steve with his eyes closed and on a Tuesday afternoon.

If he was at full strength, he’d have been able to manoeuvre the weak bindings of his ropes until he was able to tug them free and kick the shit out of the closest guy until he got his hands on his gun.

Then he’d be out of here and on his way home before Eddie had the time to properly spiral.

But he wasn’t at full strength, he could barely even pull against the binds around his wrists, tugged at an uncomfortable angle behind his back. 

Not a gentle angle and not at the proper straining points he was used to. 

The rope was rough and harsh against his skin instead of the delicious soft bite of the silken binds.

But it was fine. 

He wouldn’t be here long.

“He’s awake.” A voice in front of him said. 

The accent was mostly American but with the slightest tinge of Russian underneath. 

Great.

Two men in ill fitting black suits with their guns held loosely at their sides stepped into the light. The other two stayed behind him, probably as some kind of security or intimidation measure. 

Well, it was nice to see them try. 

Cute almost.

“Hello.” Steve sighed. “Can you guys tell me what this is all about so we can get it over with, please?”

“Oh,” the one in front of him sneered, “he thinks he’s funny.”

“I think I’m very funny, yes.” Steve nodded, relaxing into the chair as much as he could.

The guy scowled. Clearly he hadn’t learned that sometimes having fun on the job was necessary. Helped alleviate stress. “You’re gonna answer our questions.”

“Sure thing, Drago.” Steve nodded. The guy really did look like Drago. Big meaty head and short crop of blonde hair. “Hit me.”

Drago smirked. “If you insist.”

With an almighty crack he brought the back of his hand down across Steve’s face, snapping his head to the side.

He could feel the blood welling up in his mouth where his teeth had cut into his cheek and the heat from the strike blooming over his skin that would no doubt turn purple within the next day.

God, never start an interrogation with violence. 

Fucking casuals.

Steve sucked at the blood pooling in his mouth and spat it at Drago’s feet.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Drago scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Who do you work for?”

“Scoops.” Steve grinned with blood stained teeth and a nonchalant shrug. “Scoops Ahoy. That little ice cream shop at the mall?”

“Cute.” He sneered.

“Thank you.”

“Maybe you need more persuasion.” A voice came from behind him and a sharp blade was pressed against his neck. “How would you feel if I were to cut your pretty throat?”

Steve ran his tongue over his bloody teeth. 

“Do it.”

There was a stutter of movement as the four of them glanced at each other.

“You think we won’t?”

“No, go on, do it.” Steve pressed his neck against the blade which was immediately pulled away. “You think you can get more answers out of my dead body?”

The guy with the blade swung himself around to face him, digging the point into his cheek this time with a snarl. 

Steve couldn’t even be bothered to give him a name in his head. 

He’d be Knife Guy. 

Didn’t matter. 

He’d be dead soon.

“Or,” Steve continued, “do you think that I’m going to cower to any more of your threats now that you’ve just shown me you’re not willing to kill me?” He laughed. “Never start with your last resort.”

The tip of the blade was dug in deeper and dragged across his cheek, cutting into his skin but Steve could barely feel it as he distantly heard the sound of tires screeching to a stop outside.

No one else seemed to have noticed.

“We don’t need to kill you, we just need to make you talk.”

“Well,” Steve sighed, grimacing at the hot sticky blood running down his cheek. If he was lucky it wouldn’t scar.

If they were lucky it wouldn’t scar. 

“I suggest you hurry up, you’re running out of time.”

The four of them laughed. “You think your buddies are coming for you? We targeted you because you were alone and impeded. You had no safety net around you.”

“You sure about that?” Steve took in each of their faces, all looking so confident in a job well done. “You’re right, my buddies aren’t coming for me. If they were, you could take your time. But as it is you’ll all be dead in about,” he tilted his head, listening for the first distant gunshot, which sounded only half a second later, “three minutes so…”

“If not your buddies then who?”

“You guys seem a little new at this.” He said gently, like he was speaking to children. “Have you ever heard of The Shadow of Hawkins?”

Their blank faces told him all he needed to know. 

Fair enough. 

It was a fairly obscure name after all.

And a bit ridiculous.

“How about The Demon of Dresden?” He glanced around. “No? The Bloodyhanded? Ringing any bells?”

Steve blinked at them all in bewilderment. 

Did these guys know anything? 

The gunfire outside was getting louder and closer to their building and the guys around him seem to have finally clued in, clutching their guns tighter. 

Like that would do anything for them.

Steve refused to give them a moment of reprieve.

“Really guys? He’s gonna be so offended.” He shook his head, as though disappointed. “Well, maybe you’ll know him by his most famous title.” The last gunshot cracked through the air leaving a terrible silence in its wake. “Kas. The Betrayer.”

Every one of them flinched at the name, the colour draining from their faces as a door slammed open in another part of the building.

“He's trying to scare us.” Knife Guy swallowed. “Kas is dead.”

“He was." Steve nodded. "But you had to go and resurrect him. But here’s another one for you.” He grinned again, blood coating his teeth and leaned as far forward as his bindings would allow him, despite the strain on his back. “Who do you think I am?”

“Why does it matter?" The third guy spat, but Drago had a horrible realisation dawning on his face.

"You…"

“Who?” The fourth asked, whipping his head back and forth to look at the two of them. “Who is he?”

“He… you…” Drago shook his head, his full accent apparent now. “You can’t be!”

“Who gave us our intel?!” Knife Guy shouted at the others, also cottoning on.

“You…” Drago swallowed. “You’re his-”

“Sweetheart!” Eddie’s voice echoed around the warehouse seeming to come from all directions and none all at once.

Knife Guy was by his side in a flash with a fist in his hair and the blade pressed against his throat again.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Steve said, glancing up. “He’s very protective of my hair.”

His fist only tightened.

“Fine,” Steve shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Hey fuckos!” Eddie was still shrouded in darkness, completely hidden from view. “Tying him to chairs is my job!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh, for god's sake.”

Drago stepped in front of Steve, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest, pointing his gun towards the various dark corners. “If you want your-”

Four loud gunshots rang out, echoing throughout the room. 

Steve felt the warm splatter of blood across his face.

Four bodies fell to the floor, a clean bullet wound through three of their foreheads.

Knife Guy, the one who had his hand in Steve’s hair was screaming in agony, clutching his blown apart knee.

“An hour, sweetheart.” Eddie’s figure stormed out of the dark, coming to a stop just in front of him. He still had grease from the garage streaked over his cheek and embedded into the creases on his hands to go along with the copious amount of other people’s blood spattered all over his body. “I leave you alone for one hour and I have to answer a call from a worried Chrissy checking to see if everything's okay because our front door is wide fucking open. How did you go and get yourself kidnapped by Ruskies?” 

"Oh, I'm sorry, please continue to tell me how getting fucking ambushed outside our home is my fault."

"It didn’t start outside our home, did it?" 

Knife Guy wailed again and Eddie looked down on him with a cold glare. 

“Oh, sorry.” He said, not sorry at all. “I must have missed.”

With a simple squeeze of the trigger he put a hole through Knife Guys head and the screaming stopped. 

Steve expected Eddie to walk behind him to cut his binds but instead he just swung his leg out and sat himself down on Steve's lap.

"It started at that fucking gas station because you can't sit down for five minutes straight." Eddie pulled a small pocket sized first aid kit out and tilted Steve's head to the side. "Even if fucking Hippocrates or god damned Florence Nightingale rose from the dead and told you to take it easy, you'd still be ignoring their orders." He scoffed as he roughly pressed a butterfly bandage over Steve's cheek. "And you call me the hyperactive one." He mumbled.

Steve winced, glaring at him as Eddie pressed down particularly hard on one strip.

His mouth was still pulled into a deep frown but he stroked his fingers gently over Steve’s cheek, caressing his face with the gentlest of touches.

"You okay?"

Steve couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Yeah baby, I'm good. But they got the angle of my arms all wrong. It's really uncomfortable."

"Hmm. Well as an expert in tying you down to chairs, I'd have to agree. How dare they steal my thing. I fell in love with you when you were tied to a chair."

Steve raised an eyebrow, complete disbelief written on his face.

“Oh yeah?” He tried to bring their faces closer but he was impeded by his bindings. Eddie just gave him a feral grin. “Which time?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Tell me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Eddie cooed. “No.”

“Asshole.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Would you mind?" He tugged at the ropes again. "My back is fucking killing me."

"Of course." Eddie muttered into Steve's mouth but never properly closing the distance while simultaneously lifting his weight up. “All you had to do was ask.”

With the bindings now gone, his shoulders and arms felt like fucking lead and the blood rushing back into his hands was causing terrible pins and needles.

Eddie was digging his fingers into Steve's muscles, trying to alleviate as much of the strain as he could.

Steve closed his eyes and groaned, his earlier ill-advised trip was catching up with him again and he was dreading having to walk out of this place. 

He just wanted to be at fucking home, in his fucking bed with his fucking husband.

Or maybe they could still do that naked blanket fort in the living room with a movie marathon and an obscene amount of snacks.

When he opened his eyes again, Eddie was on one knee with his back to him.

“Hop on.”

Steve grumbled but couldn’t find it in himself to argue, sliding himself forward, slinging his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and allowing himself to be carried off.

Eddie was strong and steady under him, barely flinching as he grabbed tight to Steve’s thighs and stood.

Their walk back was quiet and Steve wasn’t looking forward to the amount of paperwork that would have to be filed as a result of this but he hoped since he was still on medical leave he could get out of it.

The sun was starting to set outside, the sky splashed with brilliant shades of reds and oranges and pinks. Now that he was outside he saw he was correct about where he was being held.

Brimborn Steel Works.

Still got it.

When he turned his head back around to face forward he saw that Eddie had driven Steve's beloved bimmer here. 

The driver's side door was flung open and the car was at an odd angle, the direction and darkness of the tire marks behind telling Steve that Eddie had practically drifted into the lot at speed.

There were a few bullet holes in the doors and the passenger window was shattered but it wasn’t the worst that car had ever seen.

Bodies littered the ground around them, all in the same out of date suits Steve’s four goons had been wearing, all with the same guns, all with the same kind of build and all with slowly coagulating pools of blood and brains around them.

Damn. 

Eddie really didn’t hold back this time.

Steve looked back at his car. 

He couldn’t drive her anymore. 

Probably never would be able to again.

They’d talked about trading it in for a model with push-pull controls for his hands instead of floor pedals so he could have that freedom back.

But they hadn’t gotten to it yet.

Eddie had taken his motorcycle to the garage, he would have arrived home with it. Probably seen the front door wide open and a grocery bag on the ground like Chrissy said. 

It would have been quicker to get here on the motorcycle.

But Steve couldn’t ride on it. 

Not as a driver or passenger. 

At least not yet, not until he was further healed. 

So Eddie had come here with the car, either because of hope, stubbornness or pure confidence, knowing he would get Steve back.

Steve smiled to himself, tightening his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and burying his face in his neck, peppering little kisses on any skin he could reach.

“You okay back there?”

He could hear the grin in his voice as Eddie lowered him down into the passenger seat, turning on his knees to rest his forearms across Steve’s thighs.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled down at him. “Just… thanks for finding me.”

Eddie straightened up to his full kneeling height, taking Steve's face in his hands. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” He leaned up, pressing the softest of soft kisses against Steve’s lips, full of love, adoration, dedication. 

Steve could feel it pouring out of him and into his own body. 

The gentlest intimacy from a man who could cause so much violence. 

Eddie brushed their noses together. “I’ll always come find you.”

“You always say that.”

Eddie hummed. “Because I always will.”

AO3

A prequel fic set in this universe will be dropping next week 👀

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

[charliemwrites]

I have returned! I have been Eating all of the writing you’ve been doing in response to the asks. It is very yummy. Alas, I have no thoughts except price and good girl being Spicy.

Hmmmm spice you say??? 🤔 lemme see what I got in stock *clattering, banging, a brief chainsaw noise* how about edging?

You don’t usually cry during sex. Forget to breathe? All the time. Get dizzy and shaky? Sure! You even sometimes make sobbing noises, vocal cords out of control and brain turned to goop. But you almost never get to the point of tears.

But today might be the day John changes that.

He was so so clear earlier that this is not a punishment. As far as you know, he’s never lied to you. You’re starting to think that maybe today he did.

Because you’ve been on the edge for what feels like hours now. Brought to the edge, then back, jerked like a puppy on a leash, never quite able to fall over even though you gave up holding back about four almost-orgasms ago.

You’re pleading, voice high and cracking. It does nothing except make him chuckle and coo and tell you that you’re being so good. If you’re being so good, why isn’t he letting you cum?!

“If you need me to stop, princess, you know what to say.”

It’s like a taunt. He says it when your cries start to get too desperate. The first time he denied you, and you’d been so lost in his tongue massaging your clit that you forgot what game you two were playing.

The next, when he was three fingers deep and petting, petting, petting at your walls, curling them just right to toy with your g-spot.

Again, when it took him so long to sink inside you just because the perfect way he stretched you out made you twitch and clench dangerously.

He’s been pounding into you for hours now. Your arms and legs gave out on you awhile ago, so he’s just holding your hips up enough to fuck you stupid - like a machine made specifically to ruin you.

He keeps changing the angle, the speed, the pattern just enough to keep that pleasure from building. Hasn’t touched your swollen, sensitive clit since he flipped you over. You’ve given up on asking by this point, don’t think you could form words to beg at this point anyway. Even your cervix feels used and abused from the fat head of his cock bullying it.

He presses his pelvis flush to your ass and grinds, filthy and deep, right at that spot that would tip you over if he just let you. You’re past frustration or desperation or need - you’re pretty sure he’s gonna break you. And you’d be fine with that if he just. let. you. cum!

The first tear falls. And then the next. Your face is soaked with more than saliva from your open mouth now. You’re actually crying.

“There we are, babygirl.”

He tips your hips to just the right angle, snakes his hand around your hip to rub mean little circles into your neglected clit.

You cum before you even realize what’s happening, screaming and sobbing and utterly helpless, limbs still weak, just being fucked through it until you’re not sure if you’re having a second orgasm or just one really long, mind-shattering climax.

Distantly you’re aware of John groaning, face pressed into your hair. Warmth deep inside as his hips stutter with his own release. You’re too busy trying to remember how to breathe to do much more than tremble though.

[hwnglx]

how do karina and lee jaewook feel about each other/their relationship now? i feel so bad for all the hate they got :(

i always chose formats according to my intuition and how much they're allowing me tell, this is what they were comfortable with 🤍

how do they feel about each other? karina + jaewook

based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!

how does jaewook feel towards karina? 9osw, paow, 8ow&mo, know, paosw

he's very sorry. he dislikes how things ended, often finds himself wondering if he could've done better or what he could've done differently. a lot of self blaming. he might be finding it hard to contact her at this point in time, and there seems to still be a lot of frustration and leftover passion pent in up in him.

i can wholeheartedly say that this man liked and still likes karina a lot, and he seems like a very decent guy with good intentions. i often hesitate believing idols when they claim they split because of the public, but i do think this was mostly due to all the negative attention and gossiping. not only does jaewook think it's ridiculous that people have so many opinions on a matter that should be only private to them, but the fact that it actually had a true impact on their connection bothers him a lot. he believes it didn't have to end this way and still finds himself wondering how their relationship could've continued to play out. jaewook definitely still watches karina and is keeping a careful eye on her.

how does karina feel towards jaewook? 8osw, 6op, 4op, acop, 9ow

(she told me more about her feelings about the situation)

karina felt very powerless and helpless in the situation. she has very people-pleasing tendencies, in a way where she hates the thought of people experiencing any sort of harm because of her. i can say with full honesty, that she actually did care about what the public thinks and says, and wanted to do her best to make sure she doesn't lose her grip on the fanbase she's been able to build so far.

she wishes she could've satisfied both parties, but there's also a side of her thinking it was probably delusional of her to think both her relationship with jaewook and with her fans could've coexisted in harmony. in the end, her career had to come first. it just wasn't worth to keep going, she didn't feel comfortable continuing with the risk of putting the career she's worked on developing for many years in jeopardy, just because of her personal life. she just isn't gonna be doing that for a man. he for sure was more emotionally attached, and liked her more.

i can say, that this situation has definitely made her put her guard up, and be much more careful about the things she choses to disclose to the public. she's very sweet and truly cares about her fanbase (tbh, one of the few idols i felt genuine love for their fans from) but she realized they can be kinda reckless and selfish in many ways.

[wonuwrites]

Seventeen as Songs From “The Tortured Poet Department: The Anthology.”

A/N: this album is fucking amazing and has inspired me to write so much. So the way I’m doing this is giving a member a song + a lyric with a mini drabble. In future I might do Song Reactions for a few of these songs *cough* Down Bad and Fortnight *cough* but until then I’m doing it like this. If anyone wants more writing of said drabbles please request it 🫶

Also before I get to warnings let me just say: this is 100% fictional and not at all how I think any of the members are irl. This album doesn’t portray the make counterpart in good light that much (minus But Daddy I Love Him, The Alchemy, + So High School.) however I'm in a angsty af mood so I’m writing it. If you hate it, im sorry. I just have to write it to process my grief. ALSO: not all of them are going to be hella angsty but most will be because this album is unhinged

Warnings: angst (not everyone's though: 96 Line + Joshua is lowkey cute,), Jun's is NSFW so Minors DNI, mentions of alcohol, breakups, heartbreak, codependency, pledis, i also wrote some swear words so if you hate bad words: this album and my writing is not for you lmaoooooo

ღ S. Coups: The Bolter "With a quite bewitching face Splendidly selfish, charmingly helpless Excellent fun 'til you get to know her Then she runs like it's a race."

Seungcheol woke up to an empty bed and couldn't help but sigh before rubbing his face. He let you in again, even after swearing to Jeonghan and Jihoon he was done. However, there was something about you that just kept him wanting more and more. He knew that you were never one for commitment because "Where was the fun in that? Commitment just is a recipe for getting hurt." He knew that trying to pursue a "bolter" was a lost cause but he just couldn't help it. He was madly in love with you and every time you left he felt more devastated than the time before. Every 11:11 he wished that one day you would let him at least try to show you that commitment could be a beautiful thing.

ღ Jeonghan: The Albatross "Locked me up in towers But I'd visit in your dreams And they tried to warn you about me."

Jeonghan knew the risks of dating you. You were what some people called a temptress and a "nightmare dressed like a daydream." He knew that there was a chance you would ruin his life and honestly, at the time, he was all in for it. He was sure he could call your bullshit however time showed that his bullshit was called out. He found out that what everyone said was not as true as they thought. He found you to be the most amazing person in this world so when you left he was heartbroken. You told him you didn't want to be what everyone said but you had to leave and you knew he would find someone even better in the long run. However, he saw you in his dreams, he saw you in faces in the street, he saw you everywhere. He missed you and wished you would be able to let him in so you could prove all of them wrong.

ღ Joshua: Fresh Out The Slammer "And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake here."

You looked around the crowd of people as you entered a familiar park. You knew this place all too well and your heart was racing. You just got out of six year relationship with someone you swore was supposed to be your forever person. However, you always unintentionally compared him to your first love, Hong Jisoo. For the past year, you were mentally checked out of your relationship because all you could think about was Jisoo. You took a deep breath before you sat down on an empty swing and waited. You waited for what seemed like five hours when the swing next to you was taken. You glanced over and saw Jisoo looking at you with a soft smile. Your heart started to race as you both made eye contact. It had been so long but he looked as beautiful as ever. Jisoo then leaned over and pressed a kiss against your lips while grabbing both of your hands. You smiled as familiar lips that felt like home brought back warm memories. You then put your foreheads together before awkward giggling. "Welcome home, (Y/N)."

ღ Jun: So High School "Your friends are around, so be quiet I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school every time I look at you But look at you."

You are so head over heels for Moon Junhwi as was he over you. You both felt like it was a first love that you would have back in high school. All of the feelings you would feel back in High School came crashing back. One night when you were celebrating something with all of your friends and with his group members you both ran off into a closet and were just making out when it started to get more and more intense. You both were flushed and giggling as you both helped each other get undressed. He made sure the door was locked before attaching his lips back to you. "Try to stay quiet, baby girl," he would whisper as his fingers made their way to your nipples which caused you to softly moan into his lips. "Yes sir." A quickie would be good enough for now as you tried your best to stifle the moans and sighs that Jun was causing. If his friends knew what was going down, they kept it a secret from you but teased the hell out of him when you were gone.

ღ Hoshi: imgonnagetyouback "And I'll tell you one thing, honey, I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean."

Soonyoung and you kept crossing paths and it was honestly frustrating you. You both didn't have a horrible breakup but it still was a breakup that hurt a lot. It took everything to get over him and you swore you were over him. However, every time you saw him, you couldn't help but second guess everything. At one of these "crossroad" moments, the "crazy" in you came out after you kept making eye contact with him one too many times. You made your way across the room despite your friends trying to stop you and pulled him to an empty storage room. Both of your breath was heavy before you glared into his eyes and whispered, "I know you still want me, please come clean." This caused him to scoff before pushing you up against the door and whispering, "you first, baby girl."

holy shit, 100 notes and I will write a one shot for this one

ღ Wonwoo: But Daddy I Love Him "Now I'm dancin' in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I'm his lady And, oh my God, you should see your faces."

A video of one of you and Wonwoo's first dates ended up getting leaked and soon dating rumors started spreading like wildfire. There was both positive and negative thoughts from both of your fans as expected but to be honest it was just "white noise" for both of you because honestly who gave a fuck what anyone thought. When both of your CEO's sat with both of your managers and you, they informed you that dispatch was working on an article "exposing" the truth and that's when you both realized that you both wanted to be the ones to tell the fans. You decided to post on instagram a mini reel of moments between Wonwoo and you saying, "the rumors are true. wanted to let you know before dispatch told you all." Once you confirmed, there was still some negative press but mostly it was positive which Wonwoo and you were both thankful for.

omg i wanna write a one shot for this too bc what!?

ღ Woozi: The Alchemy "'Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?"

Honestly, you were shocked to see Lee Jihoon brace an event like this. Especially, after all this time. It was not his crowd or in his comfort zone. You could see how nervous he was as he fiddled with his arm cuffs and nervous laughing to whatever his friend was saying. Based on rough memories you believed his friends name was "Kwon Soonyoung" but that seemed like many life times ago. It felt like a car crash when you looked at him because you couldn't turn away or look away. Memories of you both kept replaying through your memory. You just stared at the man who you once loved exist on the other side of the room. After awhile, he realized a pair of once familiar eyes were staring at him. He looked back and his face softened. It felt like a movie as you stared at each other. Neither of you remember who walked to who first but soon you both were sitting side by side at the bar laughing and recalling old memories. The hole that was in both of your hearts seemed to be patched up as the conversation progressed. When the night was over, he asked if you would be comfortable seeing him again and you couldn't say 'yes' quick enough.

ღ DK: Peter "And sometimes it gets me When crossing your jet stream We both did the best we could do Underneath the same moon In different galaxies."

"It will always be you, maybe one day we can come back together when it's not so crazy." That was the last thing you ever heard Seokmin say after you both agreed it was time to call it quits. Who's fault was it? Honestly neither of your fault. Neither you or Seokmin could say that you did not try. Of course you both tried. You both tried to make everything work but things were just too different and well 'crazy.' With his career, he was everywhere and vise versa. You both were just never in the same time zone at the same time. It was like this for months when finally it just fizzled. Time moved on, as did both of you, but when you looked out the airplane window and noticed you were flying over Seoul your heart couldn't help but mourn. You wondered what could've been. You wondered if he still laughed while clapping like a seal and if he was still sunshine for everyone he met. It broke you a bit to remember. "It will always be you, Seokmin," you whispered before closing the curtain of the window.

ღ Mingyu: Down Bad "How dare you think it's romantic Leaving me safe and stranded 'Cause fuck it, I was in love So fuck you if I can't have us."

"Kim Mingyu, you are a fucking coward," you whispered as you tried to hide your angry heartbroken tears from him. "(Y/N), trust me this is the last thing I want to do," he whispered with tears threatening to fall. Dispatch had found out about both of your relationship three days ago and the hate toward you was heavy. Delusional fans thought their beloved idol was cheating on them and you deserved to die because it was obviously your fault the 'affair." You were down to fight and continue forward but he couldn't handle the hate you were receiving and knowing there was only so much he could do. Fuck, maybe he was a 'fucking coward' but he was doing it because it would be safe for you. Who knows what saesangs could do to you. If anything happened to you, he would never forgive himself. He rather have you hate his guts then have you killed.

ღ Minghao: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart "I can hold my breath I've been doin' it since he left I keep finding his things in drawers Crucial evidence I didn't imagine the whole thing."

It has been about two months since Minghao and you broke up and it honestly has felt like a fever dream since it happened. Some days were better than others. You honestly thought today was one of the 'better' days but that was before you found one of his cardigans in one of your drawers and you just couldn't help but put it on and lay on the floor. You couldn't help but remember all the memories of him and you with this cardigan. Whether he was wearing it or you were. It was warm just like the memories and it killed you. You wrapped the cardigan around you tighter around you and just sobbed. You knew one day it would stop hurting, but until then, you were just going to run with the punches and try your best to do it with a broken heart.

ღ Seungkwan: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys "'Cause I knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch He saw forever, so he smashed it up.

Seungkwan knew he fucked up the moment he stepped foot into his house after breaking things off with you. Truth be told he was terrified of you. You knew him like the back of your hand and he knew you like the back of his hand. He saw a future with you. He saw you owning a dog, living in a house in Jeju, owning a dog, having one to two kids, everything. However, he wasn't mentally ready for that. At least at the time he thought he wasn't. Now that he was alone and realizing what he had done, guilt was eating him up. He lost everything because his own damn anxiety lied and said there was danger. There was nothing he could do to fix it now.

ღ Vernon: The Black Dog "I move through the world with the heartbroken My longings stay unspoken And I may never open up thе way I did for you."

Nobody understood you the way Hansol did. He had the manuscript on what made you tick. Like how you liked your coffee over exactly five ice cubes, how you would always whisper 'thank you' before eating any kind of meats because they once had a soul, and how you would blink twice before laughing at one of his jokes. So when he made the call to end things you wondered how on earth you would ever find someone who could handle your quirks and wouldn't find you strange. It made you feel abandoned and made you hate him so much for hurting you this way. When you expressed your feelings to your friends, they would tell you it would get better eventually. Eventually, whenever "Hansol" escaped your lips to them they would tell you to stop talking. That's why you just were silently heartbroken as you replayed everything over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

ღ Dino: So Long, London "You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? I died on the altar waitin' for the proof."

Your phone light blinded you as you stared at Lee Chan's pointless apologies. You both had been struggling in your relationship for the last five months. You thought things were looking up until one of your best friends delivered the heartbreaking news that they saw him kissing a new stylist that started working for them ironically when things started to go shit. You felt many things. You felt betrayed, you felt hurt, you felt sick, you felt embarrassed. He swore he loved you, he pinkie swore he loved you not even three days ago. However, you trusted your best friend and you saw visual proof which was more proof or clues on how much he "loved" you. Even though it killed you, you texted back, "So Long, Iksan." before blocking his number and preparing yourself on officially getting over him.

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

Thank @feral-ferrule for reminding me of this little aside. Now ya'll gotta deal with it.

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Dosing the Batch Boys: (Glitterstim)

In Disgrace (ch3) Crosshair and Tah'nyem are dosed with Glitterstim, a psychoactive variant of spice made by the spiders that live in the caves of Kessel. It lets you read minds...This results in their minds slamming together in new an confusing ways, which is fun for their chapter but it even occurs to them that it might be even funner in bed, let's explore that a little.

Though glitterstim is canon it's underutilized and definitely not utilized the way that I do, so this is very HC based. We're also going to assume that the drug doesn't affect the health of the boys in anyway. (Echo, sweetie I worry about you other wise.)

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Hunter-

I think what would get Hunter off the most about being in your brain is the complete confirmation that all of your praise is genuine. All the boys might be surprised at just how attracted clonethirst girlies are to them but Hunter is particularly susceptible to the flattery of it. Ego boosted, the next aspect he would utilize is the direct feedback for how pleasurable his actions were. You'd probably not get to actively participate as much because he would get wrapped up in feeling what heights he could drive you to.

Wrecker-*let me in meme goes here*

What is going on in there? I can only imagine Wrecker's brain being a kind of messy place, sparks flying back and forth, complex equations drawn in crayon... What would be hot about it is just how overwhelmed with his emotions you would get. With practice he might be able to hold back but without it your brain is getting flooded. Joy, exuberance, and of course the sexual pleasure on a feedback loop. Actually, don't do this with Wrecker, you two are gonna fry.

Echo-

You'd have to ease Echo into this, he'd feel a little self conscious that you might feel any discomfort his implants and prosthetics might cause him, and you would, but having that open map would guide you to new ways to comfort him and make him feel good. He'd also find himself enjoying a type of relief basking in your mind. Like Hunter, he'd be enamored with feeling what he does to you and would try to heighten your experience more than focusing on himself.

Crosshair-

Cross isn't a selfish lover, but unlike Hunter and Echo he's very of the mindset that pleasure is a two way street. He'd more than likely take advantage of the connection by doing things that are mutually beneficial and might yield crazy results via feedback a la 69ing. More closed off and focused, Crosshair would have more control over holding your mind on task, easily keeping you away from parts of him he wouldn't want you to see.

Tech-

Where do I start?

Absolute dog shit at staying on task, once you let this little gremlin loose in your brain he'll start to rip you apart like an engine. Good luck keeping him out of your deepest darkest secrets, your half forgotten ruminations, dreams, and whatever other threads he gets his hands on. Not like it'd be much better, but you can also step into the whirring whirlwind resting in his brain pan. A single calculated thought releases so much mental energy you're floored immediately. There's not even sex yet, and since you'd be a helpless kitten of an rc car hooked up to the power of a jet engine you might as well let him run wild kriffing you within full efficiency.

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Not that it moves the plot much besides being way too comfortable with each other too quickly, there are lasting effects of the Glitterstim on CrossXTahny.

She never gets a clean slate with the rest of the Batch Boys since she was exposed quite strongly to Crosshair's opinions of them. His opinions of them directly after Kamino. Yeah.

Also more of a fun fact, in case of alternative dimension shenanigans, Tahny would always be able to pick her Crosshair out of a line up. Even if it's between other Crosshair's that had Glitterstim experiences with other Tah'nyems.

Kids got little tan lines in the shape of each other burned into their brains.

[jaketswine]

sundays

little sunday afternoon Jake blurb because all i want is to curl up and take a nap with him..

You woke this morning a bit earlier than you usually would on a Sunday, but for a good reason. Scrolling through your phone yesterday afternoon, you found an advertisement for a local farmer’s market that you and Jake had been promising to visit since you moved to the new town. You were intent on going, hopping out of bed and excitedly dressing for the day.

The only downside was, this would be a solo date today. Jake had gotten back from the studio much later than usual last night– 3:15 if you remember correctly.

At any rate, you had decided to let Jake rest instead of dragging him around with you.

Browsing around the market, you found so many things by local artisans you knew Jake would love, promising the vendors that your boyfriend would be back with you the following weekend to check it out. 

You grabbed a few produce items on your way out, hoping to be able to forgo your grocery trip for at least a few more days.

While you walked, you wondered what Jake was doing– if he had gotten out of bed or not, hoping he was well-rested, whatever he was doing.

Arriving home you made gentle movements, trying to stay quiet as best you could, just in case.

Putting your items away, you made note that you didn't hear him stirring within the house. No new lights had been turned on, and the coffee you had made was still resting at the same measure marker it had been after your cup.

Using the lightest step you could manage, you made your way to your shared room, easing the door open gently, soft snores immediately sounding from inside the room

Easing over to him, you crawl up onto the bed, sitting on your knees next to him, admiring his sleeping form– sprawled out on his stomach, head resting on one arm, while the other is thrown across your vacant side of the bed, his hair laying out in every direction.

Reaching your hand out, you run your fingers over his arm, lightly scratching the skin there. He stirs just slightly at the touch, letting out a sleepy groan. Hoping to wake him more, you bend your head down toward him to whisper in his ear, “Good morning sleeping beauty.” Adding a light kiss to the tip of his ear before pulling away. 

Being awake just enough to give you a tired grin, he moved his free hand to grab yours, lacing your fingers together. Squinting up at you, he yawned, rolling over onto his back and stretching the arm he had been laying on over his head. “What time is it?”

Watching him in this half-awake state caused your heart to grow even softer, smiling lovingly down at him. “It’s around eleven, I just got back home. You hungry? Want me to make you something?”

Ignoring your question, he gave a confused look, “Got back home? From where?”

“That farmer’s market we’ve been eyeing. You're going to love it.” You knew he may not like that answer, and braced for a passive-aggressive comment.

Instead, he groaned, lifting his whole upper body off the bed to wrap his arms around you, effectively pulling you down on top of him. 

He nuzzled his chin into the top of your head, allowing you to snuggle your face into his neck, giving it a gentle kiss.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it baby, I can't wait to go back with you next time.” You smiled into him hearing his reply, and went to speak, but he beat you to it.

“I am gonna need some form of repayment from you though. You know, leaving your poor helpless boyfriend here all by himself,” he giggled.

Having expected some comment of this nature to begin with, you just smiled, tilting your head up to look at him, “Yeah? And what might my poor helpless boyfriend need?”

Rolling his eyes, he met your gaze, then let his eyes fall shut, “About two more hours. Right here. Just like this.”

Absolutely loving the sound of that, you cuddled up to him that much closer, allowing him to fully engulf you with his body, “Sounds great to me.”

You let the room fall silent for a moment, then spoke up again, “Are you sure you're not hungry? Because I can go make us a something real qui–”

“Shhhhhhh shhh,” he cut you off, “Just stay here. Please.” Please. That one word from his mouth would cause you to do anything he asked.

So you stayed right where you were, not that it was a problem with you. You had always loved Sunday afternoon naps with him.

Tilting your head up, you placed a light kiss to his jaw, receiving a hum of response and a tight squeeze of his arms around you. “I love you, y/n.”

You knew he meant it, and you were so glad he did, “I love you, Jake.”

You stayed there, curled up in his arms, your head on his chest, his head on yours, basking in the early afternoon light that streamed through the blinds. 

You lay there, listening to his deep breathing, and light snores.

Marveling at the fact that you were the one who gets to love him, and the one who gets to be loved by him.

Wondering how you got so lucky.

Wishing every day could be just like this.  

Wishing every day could be Sunday.