#how many different fucking x reader tags do i have to block

[demento-mori]

will yall shut tf up about that lame twink fr im trying to see my boy

[lostinlads]

Delicious Desire

Synopsis: after a heavy makeout session, xavier finds out that you've never been eaten out. he takes it upon himself to bless you with his mouth

Tags: xavier x afab!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, no use of y/n, smut, porn with little plot, not proofread, not edited, xavier is a MUNCH, eating out, fingering, first time, not virgin mc, use of pet names (angel, beautiful, bun), tongue fucking

Words: 2.1k

a/n: this is my first smut fic i have written in a WHILE so please be kind as i find my footing again! but shout out to my horny xavier moots on twitter for making me want to write this bc i wasn't going to do one shots for a while. anyway xavier is a munch that man is a slut and i love his ass sm! thank you for reading!

ao3 | kofi

Your relationship with Xavier was still pretty new, so many beautiful firsts with each other that will forever be engrained in your mind.

This morning was no different.

You two spent the night at his apartment, binging movies and snacking all night until the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms on his soft bed. Waking with the soft morning rays on your face, your boyfriend already awake with his head resting on your chest, fingers drawing small circles onto the flesh of your stomach.

Sweet nothings said between the both of you, enjoying each other's company.

Until you find yourself on his lap, mouths working against each other as you thread your fingers through his feathery locks. His strong arms wrap around you, holding you in place as you slowly grind your hips against his. Your mind growing fuzzy, getting drunk at the feeling of Xavier's lips on yours, the way he nibbles at your bottom lip before sucking it. The fluttering deep in your stomach never ending at every small movement under you, his hard cock growing larger with every move you make.

Xavier breaks your kiss, his lips trailing down your neck before sucking at the sensitive spot at the base. A moan slips from your lips, earning a satisfied hum from him, vibrating on your skin only making your head spin more. This wasn't the first time you've been in this situation with him, heavy make out sessions were inevitable with how whipped he is for you. Him knowing exactly what buttons to press for you to sing so sweetly for him, it drove him insane.

"Bun," Xavier nearly whined against your throat, your hips bucking slightly at just his voice alone. Fingers tightening in his hair.

"Hm?" You hum, words failing to form on your tongue. He nips, another gasp fluttering from your lungs.

"Wanna taste you," He mumbles, hands gripping your sides as he guides your hips against him, making you feel how fucking strung out he was on you. You blink, confused. Eyebrows knitting together as you try to piece together his words through the thick fog in your mind.

"What?" He groans, lips still abusing your neck as you feel his hot tongue lap at your skin.

"Please let me eat you bun," He begs. "You're driving me insane, please let me." Xavier thrusts his hips up to you, grinding his hard cock against your clothed heat as if to show you just how much he wanted this. You pull back, a whine leaving his lips as he loses contact.

"Uh-" Cheeks flaming, you don't meet his eyes. This was... unexpected to say the least. You weren't new to sex, having lovers in the past, but none of them ever ate you out before.

"If you aren't comfortable, angel, we don't have to," His hand coming to caress your face, thumb brushing your cheek softly as he reassured you. It's not that you didn't want to, you just were inexperienced.

"No, no," You start, shaking your head as you finally meet his awaiting eyes. Fuck, those eyes. Pupils blown wide with lust and want, glossy and searching as he waited for you to answer. "I just haven't... before..." You trail off, hands gliding over his clothed chest, heartbeat pounding against your skin. Xavier is silent for a pause, eyes flicking between yours as he takes in your words.

"No one has ever eaten you out before?" He almost sounds offended for you. You shake your head, heat from your cheeks stretching to the tips of your ears.

"No, it's never been brought up," A small smile grows on his gorgeous face as his hands run down your sides, gripping your plush thighs.

"We'll just have to change that then."

Xavier flips you over in a fluid motion, him looming over your shocked body as his eyes grow dark. Your boyfriend quickly strips of his shirt, tossing it behind him somewhere in the room. He looks starved, almost ravenous as he leans in, lips to your neck again. This time his assault isn't as graceful, needy and sloppy as he drools on your skin as he makes his way down to your chest. Hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing your skin as they roam over your stomach and waist. You arch your back, hot breath panting from your mouth as he makes his way down your body. Wetness pooling between your thighs as you feel the all too familiar tingle.

"So pretty for me," He mumbles against the soft skin of your exposed stomach, placing a soft, delicate kiss to it before he settles between your thighs. His hands run down, slowly spreading them as his eyes stay locked on your clothed heat. The only thing keeping him from his meal is a flimsy pair of sleep shorts and your soaked underwear. His pupils dilate, almost consuming the blue of his beautiful eyes. Tongue darting out as he swipes his lips, saliva glossing in the morning light. You wanted to drink him in when he looked like this, already so ruined for you and nothing even happened.

"May I?" Fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts, eyes flicking up to meet yours, pleading. You would pause time if you could, stay in this moment to stare at his face forever.

"Yes," Voice nothing more than a whisper as you breathe the single word out. Without a second thought Xavier pulls the shorts down your legs, eyeing your weeping cunt through your soaked panties. He groans, hands spreading you further as he leans in.

You gasp as his lips brush your inner thigh, hands fisting the sheets. He places a soft kiss to the fat of your thigh, then another, peppering your skin with the most loving caresses.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this, angel," He moans into you, pulling back so his face is right in front of your heat. The scene in front of you unfolds in almost slow motion, Xavier leaning down, lips placing a soft kiss to your clothed clit. Your stomach jumps, breath hitching as his tongue flattens, licking a stripe up your panties.

"Smell fucking divine," His tongue diving back in to lap at you through your underwear once more. A soft whimper leaving your lips, snapping him out of his high, eyes dancing over your face. You pull your lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you sit under his intense gaze.

Xavier pulls down your panties, an agonizingly slow pace almost as if he wants to tease you. You watch the obscene string of your cum connecting your cunt and panties snap. He sucks in a breath as you lay bare, exposed to him. The cool air hits your slick heat, a chill running down your spine as goosebumps rise in its wake. Xavier swears under his breath, air fanning over your cunt making you squirm. You could see the last of his control slipping, fingers digging into your skin as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He would be the end of you today.

Anticipation wells in the pit of your stomach, wanting nothing more than his tongue pleasuring you, to experience why he craves it so bad. You wiggle your hips, coaxing him to give in. Xavier's eyes flutter back open, looking only at your face.

"Eyes stay on me, beautiful," Before you notice the pink tip of his tongue poke through his plush lips.

He leans into his meal, fingers coming to part your lips as his tongue finally makes contact and-

Fuck.

Fuck.

A string of moans flows from your parted lips, back arching off of the bed again as his tongue licks again. Eyes never breaking contact with you, his lips come to wrap around your clit. He sucks greedily, cheeks hollowing as he moans. The vibrations ricochet up your heat, fluttering around in your stomach as your hands grip the sheets tighter, knuckles a ghostly white.

You feel the tip of his tongue add to the mix, lapping at your bud as he continues to suck. How were you supposed to last longer than five minutes with him working you like this? The coil hot inside you as you shift your hips, grinding your cunt on his face. You swear you feel him smile before he lets go, tongue prodding at your entrance.

"Oh my god-" You gasp, his saliva and your slick mixing together beautifully as his tongue glides into you. Xavier slurps, sucking down your spilling juices. You swear it's the most erotic sight you've ever seen.

"You taste so good for me, bun," Lips grazing your pussy as he speaks. He places another soft kiss to your cunt before he flattens his tongue, long strokes to your slit. His eyes never waver, locked onto your flushed face as he continues to pleasure you at an agonizingly slow pace. Wanting to saver you, your taste, your expressions, your soft fluttering moans.

Xavier's nose bumps your clit as he glides his tongue up, thighs twitching as your eyes roll for a split second before snapping back down to his blushing face.

You couldn't help yourself, hand releasing she sheet before reaching forward. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging softly at his scalp earning a beautiful grunt from the man devouring you. Sweat shining on his forehead, plastering his hair to his face, the light blond locks turning darker. You've never seen him like this before, so lustful, so needy. It tightened the coil deep in your stomach, a heavy moan flowing freely.

His tongue glides back down to your entrance again, sliding between your gummy walls.

"Oh my god, Xav," You gasp, lungs not getting enough air. Hips grinding on his face, wet tongue burying deeper inside of you.

"That's it, bun," Breathy, fucked out voice blessing your ears. "Fuck yourself on my face for me." You couldn't help yourself, head falling back into the pillows as you buck, pressing his face further as you grip his hair tight in your fist. You were getting close, the wet sounds of his tongue fucking inside of you so deep bouncing off of the walls of his room, making your head so fuzzy. Mind going numb, the only thing you could think of is how you have gone this long without this pleasure before.

His nose brushes against your clit again, eyes rolling so far back you swear you could see your own brain. Hips lifting from the bed as you chase your high, wanting nothing to cum on his face. Xavier grinds hid leaking cock into the mattress, reeling in the pleasure he is gracing you with, getting off on that alone.

"Look at me, beautiful. Please, let me see your pretty fucked out face." Vulgar words you've never heard from him, voice so whiney you couldn't help but obey. Opening your eyes, glancing back down at him. You watch his hips hump into the bed, his lips wrapping around your clit before you feel one of his long, slender fingers fuck its way inside of you.

"Gonna... cum-" You manage to choke out, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as he adds another finger, curling just right to hit that sweet spot inside of you.

"Me too, angel," He moans, the sound so beautiful it buzzes in your brain.

The sounds of him slurping your leaking cunt becomes too much, his hair tickling your thighs, his fingers hitting in you just right. The band in you snaps, hips lifting from the bed, back arching as you cry out to him. His moans join yours, blue eyes half lidded as his noises vibrate in your heat. Your cum coating his hand, dripping down his wrist as his hips stutter before halting as he cums in his pants. 

Xavier's fingers slip out of you as he rests his head on your thigh, lips and chin glossy. Your hand falls to his damp cheek, a lazy smile spreading on his lips. You couldn't help but be in awe, how ethereal he looks after he cums, your work of art.

"That was..." You breathe out, brain fuzzy as you try to find the words. He laughs, hand caressing your thigh.

"You did so well for me," Nothing but love and admiration in his soft voice. "Let's get you cleaned up so we can go back to bed." Wet lips plant a kiss to your thigh before he stands, a wet patch spread on his pajama pants.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[honeekyuu]

stuck. [tsukishima kei x f!reader]

>>Tsukishima is the kind of best friend that makes you want to leave him, but you just can't bring yourself to.

or

You end up confessing in the middle of a fight and he fucks you to show you how much he really cares.<<

______________________________

tags: smut, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, alcohol/drinking, college au, tsukishima kei is a dick, drunk sex, unprotected sex (dont do that), creampie, dom/sub undertones

a/n: ahahahaha this was my first hq work posted on ao3, and it is everything Mean Best Friend Tsukishima Kei that i needed. i hope you enjoy!

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

------------------

“Okay, I’m done! How do I look?”

“You look like shit.”

You sigh, trying not to let him get to you. 

Tsukki’s always been this way - dismissive, nonchalant, indifferent. Through middle school, he’d been sarcastic. He’d been snarky and brutally honest. And in high school, he’d only gotten worse. 

Anyone else in your position might have left him already. People you’d known in school had told you to find someone else, a better friend. Best friends don’t treat each other the way Tsukishima treats you , they’d said. His teammates had been in the habit of scolding him whenever he’d go too far, whenever he’d push your buttons a little too hard. The only one who could see your side had been Yamaguchi, and even he’d had his reservations at times.

But other people don’t know Tsukishima Kei. They know the Tsukki that would refuse to share his notes with you after you’d been out sick. The Tsukki that would steal parts of your lunch and hold it high above your head, far out of your reach, and call you mean names with a cruel smirk. The Tsukki that would often leave you behind after school and head home without you, leaving you to text him and wonder where he’d gone.

They don’t know that the same person would show up at your house with his notes, walking you through calculus and poetry lessons himself because he knows you learn better with a teacher. And, even though you never called him out for it, he would show up the day you’d been out sick, too, just to check on you. Just to watch movies in bed with you, waving off your concerns about him getting sick. He hated being sick, but he would ignore your complaints and force you to relax - because you’d only ever get sick when you overworked yourself, which meant he hadn’t been watching over you closely enough. 

They don’t know that Tsukki would secretly swap your lunch out for his own - better, homemade food that wasn’t the cafeteria slop you were often forced to buy because your parents weren’t home a lot. He would watch you push the food around on your tray while you’d laugh at something Hinata had said, identifying at least 3 things you were allergic to on that plate. So he would reach for it, leaving his own (allergen-free, thanks to Akiteru) lunch open for retaliation while he’d use his height as a way to take out his frustrations on you - his irritation that you never seemed to put yourself first, choosing starvation over just simply asking your parents for money before they go out of town.

And the times he’d leave you behind - well, half the time, it had been an accident. It was impossible to remember your packed schedule, all your clubs and student council meetings lumping into a vague ‘ Y/n’s busy ’ block of time in his mind. The other half of the time, it was because he needed to be alone. It’s not that he’s an asshole and loves to make you suffer - in fact, he would often call you later the same night, apologizing in his own, special Tsukishima Kei way and explaining himself. He gets overwhelmed easily, overstimulated by too many people, too many responsibilities, too many social expectations. So he would disappear as soon as he was allowed, needing to be alone with himself and no one else.

So, the people in your life had known a different version of Tsukishima than you do. Where they’d seen a bully, cold and unrelenting even for his best friend, you’d known nothing more than an introvert, expressing his care in a way that was unrecognizable to anyone but you.

Care that had carried over into college, the last three years filled with a Tsukishima Kei that even you hadn’t expected. A version of him that walks you from the library to your dorm at night, despite his increasingly hectic volleyball schedule. A Tsukishima who calls you in the morning on his walk to class to make sure you haven’t overslept, because - even if the calls consist of nothing but your crabby morning disposition, berating him for pulling you from your slumber - he knows you’ll thank him later, as you often do.

A Tsukishima who lets you drag him to parties, even though he hates them to his very core. He lets you tug him along to your dorm, lets you force him to sit through the hour-long ordeal of choosing your outfit. Lets you spin in front of him when you’re done, clearly pleased with yourself, and ask him how you look.

Lets you throw a pillow at his face when he tells you that you look like shit, even if he wholeheartedly believes otherwise.

“Tsukki, can’t you say one nice thing to me? For once?”

He scoffs when you put your hands on your hips, turning his gaze back to his phone as he lounges on your bed like it’s his own. It might as well be, with the amount of time he spends in this room.

“That would require you to have something worth being nice about, wouldn’t it?” He smiles mockingly when he catches the irritated twitch of your eyebrow.

“You’re a dick.”

“Nothing new about that.” Tsukishima watches as you turn back to your closet with a huff, taking the time to look you over appreciatively. No , he thinks, his eyes lingering on the curve of your breasts and the way your dress hugs your hips, the material tight but soft. His hand itches with the urge to touch it, to find out for himself. It’s not that you have nothing. It’s that you have too much.

He sighs, sitting up, and runs his fingers through his hair.

You have too much, and it’s fucking annoying. 

His eyes flick to you again, his own irritation growing. You’d always been too good. Too perfect, too overwhelming. He’d hated falling in love. It had sucked. High school had sucked . Having you cling to him every day and finding himself clinging right back. Not understanding these complicated feelings he has - ones that want nothing more than to hold you in his arms, against others that would tell him to push you away with his sharp tongue, to protect himself from this terrifying feeling. 

And now that he’s accepted it - it had only taken him the entirety of high school and at least a year of college - he almost hates it more. Being so close to you and somehow still feeling like he can’t breathe because it’s not nearly close enough.

So he stands, shoving his phone in the pocket of his jeans, and stares you down when you finally turn back to him.

“Can we go? The sooner we get to this stupid thing, the sooner I can go home.” He thinks he sees a flicker of hurt flash across your eyes, but that can’t be it. He’s said worse things before. You always bounce back, a retort on the tip of your tongue for everything he could throw at you. You always match him, blow for blow.

So why, then, can he see your jaw clenching as you turn away from him? Why does he feel like you’re pulling your jacket off the rack with more force than usual? Why are you leaving without responding?

What the fuck ?

-

Fuck Tsukishima Kei . 

It’s the only thought in your mind as you down the shot, wincing as the alcohol slides down your throat. You’d lost count of the drinks you’ve had about an hour ago, when the thought had been something more like ‘ Fuck Tsukishima Kei. Stupid fucking idiot. Never thinks before he speaks ’.

Clearly, you’d mellowed out a little, but the anger is still there, simmering in your chest and threatening to rise every time he gets close to you.

The walk to the frat had been silent, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about your mood, only scrolling through his phone and occasionally glancing over at you. You’d felt the irritation crawling under your skin with every pass of his eyes over you, but you hadn’t returned any of his gazes, only looking forward to getting to the party and being with other people.

But he hadn’t let you wander off so easily, his tall form following close behind as you’d tried to find some of your friends from class. You can tell he’s been trying to silently check on you, like he always does when he knows he’s bothered you. 

He’d brought you drinks, only smiling emptily when you’d glared up at him. It shouldn’t have made your heart skip that he’d done nothing more than offered you a drink, tapping his own red solo cup against yours and matching you shot for shot. It shouldn’t affect you when he does the bare minimum. 

He’d danced close to you, one hand on your waist and his warm chest pressed firmly against your back. You’d hated it - feeling so safe in the arms of someone who had derived pleasure from picking on you your whole lives. And even if that’s not true - even if you only take into account all the ways that he’d taken care of you, celebrating all your accomplishments with you and holding you while you’d cried about your failures - you still shouldn’t be feeling that familiar tug of nerves in your stomach when he presses his hips against your ass, slipping his fingers through yours and pulling you close.

And when that hadn’t worked - when you’d held your ground and managed to cling to your anger from earlier - he’d even tried to talk to you about it. That isn’t normal for him by any means, but you could see the confusion in his eyes when he’d leaned down to be heard over the music, mumbling his question against the shell of your ear.

“Are we okay ?”

It had taken everything in you to resist him, to resist the pull that is Tsukishima Kei. The same pull that had kept you next to him all these years, through all the teasing and the poking. The pull that kept reminding you that he’s just bad at expressing his feelings. He’s just bad at being nice. He’s just bad at holding his tongue.

But that doesn’t mean you have to sit and take it every time.

So you’d only smacked his hand away and glared when he’d cupped the side of your face, trying to get you to look at him. Stomping over to the bar, you had asked the frat boy for a shot of something random. 

After downing it, you try not to look back but fail miserably - you might be pissed, but you’ve never been immune to him. You probably never would be.

Glancing back, you can see his blond head in the sea of people. He’s trying to make his way to the bar, but his head is whipping to the side at the sound of something. A tall guy - you recognize it’s someone from his team - appears at his side, clapping his shoulder, and you can only assume he’d heard his name being called.

They start talking, Tsukki seeming distracted but drunk enough to at least pretend he’s interested in the conversation. You look away just as he’s turning his head back to you - you won’t be caught looking his way again tonight.

Luckily, there’s someone stepping up beside you, catching your attention with their bright smile.

“Y/n?!” 

You blink, startled by the recognition. But when you finally see who it is, you can’t help but beam.

“Oh my God, Bokuto?!” You leap toward him, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and dragging him into a hug. You feel him laugh against you, his arms sliding around your waist and pulling you in tight. When you step away, he keeps you close, hand on your hips.

“What are you doing here?! You don’t go here, do you?” 

The man shakes his head, grinning down at you and pointing over his shoulder.

“Nah, I’m just visiting a few friends over the weekend.”

You glance past him, seeing a group of boys that seem like they could be familiar to you, but you can never tell - Bokuto Koutarou is friends with everyone.

When you look back, you catch his eyes wandering down the length of your body, his gaze snapping up to yours when you clear your throat. He has the decency to look ashamed.

“Sorry, Y/n - You’ve just, uh… grown up a lot since high school.”

You flush deeply, something that makes him grin when he catches it. 

At least someone thinks I look good tonight .

You’re smiling flirtily up at him, feeling confident enough to drag this conversation out. He seems to notice, an interested glimmer in his eye. But then he’s glancing over your shoulder, and his eyebrows are raising in surprise.

A hand wraps around your bicep, much tighter than necessary in your opinion. You barely have time to spot the blond hair in your peripheral vision before you’re being dragged away. You can only wave at Bokuto, who looks a little disappointed but mostly just amused.

Tsukishima only lets you go when you’re outside, his hand dropping from your skin like you’ve burned him. You whip around to face him, more than ready to yell at him on the front lawn of this frat house. But he’s already walking away, in the direction of your dorm.

“Dude, what the hell? You didn’t even say hi to him - he’s one of your closest friends!” You stalk after him, determined to figure out what could possibly be going through his mind. But he won’t answer you, just shaking his head and mumbling something that sounds vaguely like ‘exactly ’ as he makes his way down the street.

You scoff, turning back to the frat. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re just going to follow him home quietly.

You start to head back to the party, but you barely make it five steps before his fingers are closing around your wrist and tugging you back to him. When you look up, enraged at his entitlement, you see that he’s incensed, staring down at you with wild eyes. He looks pissed, which he has no reason to be. But there’s something else there, something that’s contributing to this almost panicked anger sitting just below the surface.

“Tsukishima, what do you want?” 

He bristles at the use of his full name, golden eyes narrowing as he stares down at you.

“You’re going home.” He punctures every word with barely concealed irritation, finally turning and dragging you back down the street. You don’t say anything this time, feeling that previously mellowed out anger returning full force as you stare at the back of his head.

The walk back is just as silent as the walk to the party had been, but this time you feel ready to explode. You’d been annoyed before, bothered and hurt by his words and the way he treats you.

Now you’re just ready to pick a fight. Which means you’ll probably say something you’ll regret if you don’t get away from him soon and take some time to calm the hell down.

When you get to your door, you’ve already got your keys out. He’d let go of you in the elevator, finally realizing that he’d been gripping you way too hard. You might just be able to get inside without him following.

But the second you unlock the door and slip inside, not a word said to the blond as you try to shut the door behind you, his hand is slamming down on the wood. He stops your attempt, staring down at you with annoyance.

“You’re joking, right?” And then he’s pushing into your room with an angry sigh, letting the door swing shut behind him. You only step back, crossing your arms over your chest as you look him over.

“What do you want?”

“What do I wa- What is your problem tonight ?” He squints down at you, eyebrows furrowed. When you only raise yours, his jaw is clenching. “Why the fuck are you so mad at me?”

“Because-” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath in order to maintain some semblance of control. “Because you’re an asshole, Tsukishima-”

“Stop fucking calling me that, Y/n-”

“-and maybe I’m just not in the mood for your shit tonight!” You yell over him, clenching your fists against your body. You need him to go. You cannot let him see you cry.

“I’m always an asshole! How is tonight any different-” He’s taken a step further into the small bedroom, and you take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. You’re immensely glad you don’t have a roommate, so they don’t have to deal with the mess that is your friendship with Tsukki.

“Tonight isn’t any different, you dick. It’s the same as it always is. I’m just tired of it tonight.” You feel yourself growing angrier when he just laughs, throwing you a mocking smile as he paces the room. He’s definitely drunk.

“Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize I needed to account for Little Miss Y/n’s fucking mood swings whenever I open my mouth-”

“What the fuck did you just sa-”

“I just didn’t take you for someone who’s sensitive-”

“Well, maybe I am, you fucking asshole! ”

You’re definitely drunk, too.

Tsukishima stops short, taking you in. He can’t hide the shock on his face when he sees you - the way your hands are shaking at your sides, the quiver of your lip as you try your best to stand up to him. You’re trying so hard not to cry, he can tell.

Wow, I really am an asshole.

“Y/n… I-”

“Did you really think I would still want to go to that party once you’d made it clear how much you didn’t want to go? That you think it’s stupid to hang out with your best friend on a Friday night doing something she wants to do - because your idea of a good time is so different from mine that you would try make me feel like a fucking idiot for it?” 

Tsukishima’s starting to panic - had he made you feel that way? He’d just been talking. He hadn’t even been thinking about how it would make you feel - he’d thought nothing could hurt you, that your friendship is guaranteed and that having you next to him is a given. 

Now he feels like he’s losing you. 

“Maybe, once in a fucking while , it wouldn’t hurt you too much to tell a girl she’s pretty when she’s just spent an hour trying to look good for you.”

The frustration on Tsukishima’s face drops, and he’s left staring emptily at you. 

That’s what this is about? 

He stares for a while, his eyes just flicking back and forth between yours as he thinks of how to take that. It makes you nervous. You’d said too much. 

“Fuck this.”

You blink, staring up at him in disbelief. What is that supposed to mean?

“What do you- mmh -” 

Tsukishima had crossed the room in just two steps, taking your face in his hands while you’d been preparing to yell at him again. And then he’d smashed his lips to yours.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you let out a noise of shock, muffled against his mouth. Your eyes remain wide open, flitting in a panic over his features as you feel his lips move against yours. His brow is furrowing behind his glasses, and you’re realizing that you still haven’t kissed him back. You push against his lips experimentally, watching that wrinkle between his eyes all but disappear when he feels it, and you think it looks a lot like relief.

He’s nervous.

Your body moves of its own accord, hands sliding up his chest to grip at his shirt, and your eyes slide closed when you feel one of his hands fall to your waist. He nudges you backward, and you feel the hard surface of your closet door against your back.

Tsukishima slides his tongue against your bottom lip, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth when he feels you inhale sharply in response. He takes advantage of your surprise, pushing past your lips and brushing his tongue against yours. When you slide your hands up and around his neck, tugging at the hair there, he groans and leans down. 

Planting a hand on the door behind you, he angles his head, slotting his lips against yours. He presses his hips into you, and you can feel how hard he’s getting. You sigh into his mouth at the feeling, smiling when his body reacts to the sound, his cock hardening against your thigh. 

Tsukishima Kei might be impossible to read sometimes, but he never could hide from you.

He drops his mouth to your neck, latching onto a spot under your ear and using his other arm to pull you flush against him. The sounds you’re making are clear now, soft gasps and whimpers echoing in your tiny dorm room.

“So stupid… ” 

You barely hear him, too busy wondering why it had taken so long to feel his lips on your skin.

“The only person in the world that can see right through me, and you were stupid enough to believe what I said. ” He mumbles it into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and sighing when you moan against him.

“You’re so mean…” Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his hand drop to your leg, pulling the fabric of your dress up slightly. He grips at the back of your bare thigh, brushing against your panties and kneading into the plush skin just below your ass.

“What were you gonna do, Y/n, go home with Bokuto?” Tsukishima all but growls the question against your neck, dragging your thigh up and wrapping your leg around his hip. He feels your dress slide up, feels your warmth against his jeans. He’s desperate to get out of them.

“Y-You called me ugly-”

“I never said that.” Yes he had. He knows he had. He just hadn’t realized you would take it to heart. Now he hates himself for even saying it. For pretending you aren’t the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

“Bo said I looked good… Figured I might as well go for someone who’s actually attracted to me…” You whimper when Tsukishima presses his erection against you, your thin panties useless against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you?”

You breathe out a laugh, clinging to his biceps as he sucks another bruise into your skin.

“How was I supposed to know, you dumbass? You only ever say mean things, and I thought I could get over you by-”

“By what?” He’s getting irritated again at the thought of what could have happened tonight if he hadn’t brought you home. If he’d left you alone, like his brain was telling him to. If he’d given you space and just texted you in the morning. 

“You thought you could just fuck some other guy and get over me?” He lifts his head, grinning cruelly when you look up at him, your lip trembling. “Because I didn’t call you pretty tonight? Because you were tired of me being mean all the time?”

You nod, a gasp leaving you when he wraps an arm around your waist and hoists you up so you’re eye-level, slamming you back against the closet door and pinning you there with his hips. Your dress is bunched up around your stomach now, leaving Tsukishima with a perfect view of the wet spot on your panties when he glances down. His grin widens, an evil glint shining behind his glasses.

“But it seems like you like it when I say mean things, Y/n.”

You whine in protest, growing louder when you feel him rut involuntarily against you at the sound.

“This is different, Tsukki-”

“Is it?” He’s distracted when he asks, too busy steadying you in his arms so he can lift you up and away from the closet. Making his way to your bed, he drops you unceremoniously on the mattress, smiling when you yelp. He removes his glasses and leaves them on your bedside table, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed and wrapping his arms around your thighs so he can drag you toward him.

You sit up, taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips urgently to his - even on his knees, he’s tall enough to be eye-level with you. You feel his fingers, long and calloused, drift up your thighs and hook into your panties while he nips almost affectionately at your bottom lip.

“Tsukki… ” You whisper against his mouth, but he’s quick to shake his head, mumbling back to you.

“Not that. ”

You’re a little surprised - you never really call him by his first name. He’d found it uncomfortable the one time you’d tried it as a joke. But if he’s asking, then-

“Kei .” His pulse quickens under your fingertips when you murmur against his lips, his kiss becoming more full, and you realize just how much he likes it.

You pull away and press kisses to his face, peppering them across his nose and cheeks. It’s a moment that’s far softer than either of you had had before, one that has Tsukishima’s heart beating a little too hard in his chest. 

God, he hates being in love.

He pulls away from you, planting one hand on your chest and shoving you away from him. You fall back onto your elbows with a noise of surprise, bouncing lightly on the mattress. Tsukishima only reaches for your panties again, tugging them down and smiling to himself when you lift your hips to help him. 

He throws them somewhere over his shoulder, refusing to break his attention. Planting his hands on each of your knees, he pries your knees open slowly, glancing up at your face for any signs of discomfort. When he finds none, his gaze flicks back down to what’s in front of him.

And then his breath is cutting short at the sight of you lying bare in front of him. You’re glistening, even in this dark room, and his cock is suddenly unbearably hard. 

He’d been thinking about this moment for far longer than he’d ever care to admit. 

“Well, isn’t this just the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen?” 

You throw your head back at his words, moaning loudly. 

“Oh, shut up.” You know Tsukki’s slept with his fair share of girls since you’d started college - being a popular volleyball player has its benefits. You’d done the same, hoping to squash down that jealousy in your own, twisted way. To hear him praising you like this - like you’d always wanted - has you clenching and squirming from the desire coursing through your veins.

“First you get mad because I’m too mean, and now you’re mad because I’m being nice?” He tilts his head, his voice mocking. “You really need to make up your mind.” 

And then, before you can let out some kind of snarky quip, he’s dipping his head and dragging his tongue over your slit in one long stripe. 

You gasp loudly and moan out his name, falling back onto the mattress as your hands fly to his head. You bury your fingers in his hair, tightening your grip when he does it again, licking through your folds before latching onto your clit, pulling the nub gently into his mouth.

He moans loudly against you when you mewl and pull his hair. The vibration on your clit makes you squirm, and you’re involuntarily rutting your hips against his face. He only laughs against you, his breath tickling your skin, and wraps an arm over your hips to hold you steady on the bed.

He pulls his mouth off of you, and you lift your head to look at him in annoyance. He smirks, holding eye contact while he brings his other hand to your folds. When he runs his fingers through them, stopping briefly to circle your clit, you whimper. And when he drops his middle finger to your entrance, nudging gently at it in question, you bite your lip and nod furiously, just wanting him to touch you already-

“Oh my- Kei-” Your head falls back when he slides his finger in and drops his mouth to your clit to suck on it. He sets his pace with his finger, thrusting into you and curling gently up toward himself, repeating the process until he can tell by your squirming hips that you’re starting to feel something.

And then he’s pushing another finger past your entrance, his cock twitching when you moan at the stretch. He’s been painfully hard for a while now, and all he wants is to be inside you of already. He doesn’t realize you’re feeling just as impatient, only noticing when your hands drop to his shoulders, tugging on his shirt.

“Kei …” You pout down at him, your eyelids fluttering when he thrusts his fingers into you again. His fingertips are brushing against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, his fingers much longer than yours. You think you might become addicted to his hands soon. But you only pull again on his shirt with a whine, hoping he’ll get the message. 

Luckily, he does, because he’s pulling away to rip his shirt impatiently off his back, wiping his mouth with it before throwing it to the floor. He unzips his jeans as he makes his way up to the bed, pausing to scoop you up into his arms and tossing you closer to your pillows so he can climb on top of you.

When he pushes his mouth to yours, you’re moaning. He tastes like you, something he’s apparently proud of, because he’s just smiling against you and shoving his tongue past your lips. He drops his mouth to your neck again as he fumbles with his jeans.

“You taste so good, you know that?” He latches onto your skin, sucking harshly. “So much better than I’d imagined.” He pushes his pants just past his thighs, growing impatient. You gasp quietly when his cock brushes against you, the sound changing to a moan when Tsukishima runs it through your folds, sliding against you.

He lifts his head to look at you, his eyes searching yours in a moment of astounding clarity given the insanity of this whole night.

“You sure?”

Your heart jumps when he asks. He’s got the tip of his cock nudging against your entrance, clearly holding himself back. But the way he’s looking at you makes you realize he wants this to be done right - after all, this had started with the two of you fighting. He doesn’t want you to regret this later and be even more upset with him.

He doesn’t want to lose you.

The idea that that’s what been hiding behind Tsukki’s eyes tonight - that vague panic that you couldn’t put your finger on - makes your heart sing and your stomach swoop with butterflies. You can only nod, cupping his face and bringing him down to your lips. His kiss is gentle and full of something that makes your nerves worse, something that makes you feel more than sure.

“I want this more than anything.”

Tsukishima’s heart skips, and he’s swearing softly against your lips. He hovers over you, keeping his mouth on yours as he presses his thumb against the head of his cock, guiding it past your entrance.

You gasp together as he pushes slowly into you, a moan pulled from your throat when he bottoms out and breathes out your name. The fog in your head - a mixture of alcohol, arousal, and nerves at the realization that you’re having sex with your best friend - worsens considerably when he drops his head to your neck, making an admission against your ear.

I’ve wanted this for so long …”

You whimper, curling your fingers into his hair and holding him close as he pulls out slowly just to slide into you again. You moan at the slow stretch, feeling his shaky breath against your ear.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…” Tsukishima doesn’t know why he’s choosing now to have this conversation, when you very well can just talk about it after. But there’s a strand of fear twisting around the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth is moving without his permission. He needs you to understand what this means to him.

“I didn’t know it would hurt you… I didn’t mean it…” His hips are still slow, moving languidly against yours. He’d expected this to be rough - sex is only ever rough for him - but he needs to concentrate on what he’s saying. And you feel so good like this, so warm and tight around him.

You’re having the same problem, your head completely empty as you feel him push into you inch by inch instead of all at once. You can barely hear him, your ears ringing and your skin overheating while you try to process that this is actually happening - that you finally have Tsukishima Kei the way that you’d always dreamed about.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Y/n.”

Your heart stutters when you realize what he’s been saying. Even with everything else going on right now - even as his hips are picking up the pace, even with his breath shuddering against your skin as he moans quietly in your ear - he’s distracted, trying to apologize. Trying to make things right between you.

“It’s okay…” You whisper forgiveness into his hair, but you feel him shake his head, his grip on your hips tightening.

“It’s not. I shouldn’t hurt you. Not you…” He gasps quietly into your neck, his hips stuttering momentarily before he returns to his previous speed. “S-Sorry… You feel really good… Trying to focus.”

You flush, clenching around him and pulling him closer when he groans. You think about what he’s saying. ‘ Not you ’?

You’re about to ask what he means, but he’s mumbling another admission against your skin, this one much more intense than the last.

“I love you, Y/n… So fucking in love, it hurts…”

You inhale sharply, your heart stopping in your chest. But then there’s a moan ripping from your throat, because he’s hitting a spot in you that you didn’t even know existed, the tip of his cock bumping up against something that makes the coil in the pit of your stomach twist harshly.

“I- fuck - Tsukki, I love you, too…”

Tsukishima lifts his head then, staring down at you with surprise written all over his face. You can only breathe out a laugh, moaning quietly while you giggle.

“What, you’re shocked? I just told you I almost went home with Bokuto just so I could stop thinking about you.”

His eyes darken at your words, and his hips are snapping harshly against yours. You moan in surprise, feeling your stomach flip at the way he’s looking down at you. He seems to remember now just how this night could have gone.

He sits up, knocking your hands away when you reach out for him with a whine, and pulls out of you completely. Slipping off the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands around your thighs and tugs you toward him roughly. He only smiles mockingly down at you when you slide across the mattress with a quiet yelp, pulling your hips flush against his.

When he slips into you again, the soft, caring Tsukishima is gone, replaced with the Tsukki you’ve always known. The one who has no problem running his mouth just to get to you.

“That’s it then, huh? If I hadn’t dragged you home, you’d be wrapped around another man right now?” He slams into you, watching with delight as you cry out and arch your back. He keeps this pace, his grip on your hips bordering on painful as he drives his cock into you.

“Tsukki-”

“What did I tell you? ” His tone cuts through you, yanking hard on that coil in your navel and setting off a fresh flurry of butterflies.

“I- Kei -”

“You think you can forget about me that easily? You think I would let you?” 

You’re writhing under him, hands gripping your sheets tight as you gasp with each hard thrust of his hips on yours. The sight makes Tsukishima’s hips stutter, and he feels his orgasm coming on. He drops his thumb to your clit to push you closer to the edge, throwing his head back with a moan when you clench around him.

“Kei, please- feels so goo- ah- ”

“S-Shit, Y/n, I’m not gonna last… Where should I-” Tsukishima almost loses it when you claw at his hands on your hips, latching onto his wrists as you moan.

“Insi-Inside… Inside, Kei, please…” You look up at him, taking in the flush of his cheeks, the way his eyelids flutter when you clench around him. The way he bites down hard on his bottom lip and moans after a few seconds, breaking his hold on you so he can slam his hands down on the mattress on either side of you, his hair falling into his face as he pants down at you.

“Fuck -” He reaches down, brushing his thumb over your clit again. When you tighten around him this time, he’s letting out a choked gasp and your name, and you’re suddenly filled with warmth as his hips stutter, as he spills into you. He drops his head to your shoulder, his breath shaky as he thrusts into you, riding out his orgasm.

And when he’s done - when his cum is dripping out of you while you squirm, feeling full but unsatisfied - he sits up, pulling you against him again. He wraps his fingers around your wrists, smiling breathlessly when you cling to his forearms, and uses you as leverage when he draws his hips back and snaps them harshly into yours.

You cry out, feeling yourself throb the more he all but drags you down onto his cock and tries to draw your orgasm out of you. He releases your wrists, his thumb circling that little bundle of nerves while his other hand grips the back of your thigh, spreading your legs even further. 

When he changes the angle of his stroke, you’re gasping, unable to handle all of the sensations he’s causing in your body. There’s too much going on, too many feelings happening, each of which is bringing you closer to the edge. You slap your hands down over your face, trying both to muffle your moans and also hide your face, feeling embarrassed that your body is reacting so strongly to everything Tsukishima does.

He only coos down at you, his tone almost insulting.

“Oh, is my baby going to come?”

You whine loudly at his words, so rude but so endearing - your stomach swoops as the coil tightens, but you nod anyway. His low chuckle reaches your ears.

“Let me see you, then.” When you don’t respond, only moaning into your hands with each thrust, he clicks his teeth at you in annoyance. “Come on, Y/n. I wanna see how pretty my best friend looks when she comes on my cock.”

Tsukishima beams when that does it, your back arching as you cry out his name. You screw your eyes shut and fumble desperately for his hands. He slips his fingers through yours, holding tight when you come, your walls fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, inhaling sharply when you become impossibly tight, and then drops down over you when you're done, pressing his lips to yours.

You let out a sob against his mouth, your limbs heavy as you try to catch your breath. 

“Tsukki …” You wiggle uncomfortably, wrapping your arms around his neck and clinging to him. He laughs against your neck, pressing kisses to your skin. And then he leans up again, pressing his lips to your tiredly.

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He snickers when you whine but joins in on your soft gasp when he slides out of you, both of you sensitive. Stripping you out of the dress that’s been bunched up on your stomach this whole time, he leaves you on the bed, kicking his jeans off as he makes his way into your connected bathroom. When he returns, it’s with a wet rag and a gentle hand on your thighs.

Tsukishima scoops you into his arms when he’s done, setting you carefully against the pillows and climbing into bed with you. Your head is still empty, and you reach your arms out uselessly for him, mumbling his name. He only smiles, pulling you against his chest and kissing the side of your head.

“You okay?” When you nod sleepily against his chest, he smiles, tugging you closer. “Not too mean?”

You giggle, planting a kiss on his neck.

“I like you a little mean.”

Tsukishima snorts, shaking his head.

“I know you do. But still…” He meets your eyes, suddenly shy, his cheeks flushing. “I’ll be better from now on. Less ‘ toxic boyfriend ’ and more ‘ insufferable but still cute ’.”

You beam at his words, your heart skipping.

“Boyfriend , huh?”

He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, I’m sorry - I forgot you and Bokuto were basically married.”

“Oh, right, I should probably tell him the wedding’s off-”

“You’re a dick.”

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 6 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 25k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist

notes: hello! it's been a second but i promise tdag is still my favorite child so this is continuing slowly but surely (i'm currently just distracted by pedro pascal as slutty gladiator).

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 6 – The Ceremony Part 1

‘I didn't exactly miss it or want to live there again- I just wondered where it had gone.’

— Alice Munro, Dear Life

What the fuck does he think he’s doing?

If there is one person in Jackson who is least equipped to handle a grieving person who’s just lost someone to suicide, it’s him. Joel is sure of that. He should just tell you that he can’t do this, hand you over to Tommy or Maria or anyone else who doesn’t mess up whatever or whoever they touch.

It would be better for you, to have someone who actually knows how to work through grief. Not someone who sneaks out of bed before dawn to get a glass of whiskey and sit in their dark living room to ponder over things years and years past. The way he currently is.

But Joel is also sure that he can’t let you go. He can’t recall how or why but he does understand that you have found a way to get under his skin, one no one else has quite figured out, carved a path that only you may tread, that causes something to tug at his heart every time he sees you curled up in his bed or smells the soap that sits on his bathroom shelf. Somewhere along the road, he has started to care.

Not that anything good ever happens to the people he cares about.

A small groan leaves his throat as he leans back into the cushions, his free hand reaching over to produce a small notebook from below the couch table. He stares down at it for a few moments, weighing it in his hand. Then, he downs his whiskey in one go, sets the glass down onto the table and begins flipping through the small pages, seemingly endless notes, many of them jotted down rather hurriedly, a few written with much more care.

A thud upstairs makes his head jerk up. He freezes, listening intently. And then, he hears the unmistakable sound of someone running over the wooden floor upstairs. He’s up in an instant, cursing under his breath as he moves through the dimly lit room, using his foot to nudge a box aside that’s still sitting in the hallway, blocking his path towards the sound of bare feet thundering down the stairs.

***

For a split moment, you think it’s morning. The warmth beside you is gone. Maybe Joel has gotten another early start, doing whatever he does in the mornings while he lets you sleep.

And then, while you’re still floating in the comfortable state between dreaming and reality, you think you hear a door close somewhere downstairs.

Your body moves before your brain has a chance to catch up. Your legs, still tangled in the sheets, get caught in them and send you flying off the bed and onto the hard floor with a thud. It doesn’t slow you down. You force your trembling legs to push your body back onto your feet and rush through the bedroom door, taking the stairs three steps at a time. You have half a mind that you should shout, alert someone to what is happening, but your throat feels like it’s closed up.

Someone needs to stop him. To keep him from going out into the woods, to some hidden cabin. He always has the revolver on him. At that thought, you jump down the last few steps.

For the second time, your run towards the front door is interrupted and you collide with something solid just as you reach the corner that turns toward the front door. Again, it sends you stumbling and you prepare yourself for another hard fall. But it never comes. Instead, two strong arms catch you and Joel’s face above you finally comes into focus.

“You—” Again, your throat fails you. You simply press yourself into Joel’s chest, seemingly the only place that will swallow your sobs these days.

“Hey, it’s okay. Calm down, I’m right here,” Joel coos above you, his chest vibrating as he hums and brings one hand up to the back of your head, stroking your still slightly damp hair.

It takes him a solid five minutes to get you over onto the couch and calm you enough for him to let go for a moment. “I’ll be right here, hold on. Give me one second.”

He steps back into the hallway, shuffling something around. And as your panic recedes, the tide sinking, you glance around. A single glass sits on the coffee table in front of you, holding a few leftover drops of what you’re quite sure is whiskey. Beside it is a small notebook, the pages already slightly rippled.

You suddenly realize you’re not the only one in the old house who seems to have trouble sleeping.

Eventually, Joel returns with a woolen blanket that he drapes over your form, nodding to himself. “There we are.”

He doesn’t sit down, instead stepping over to the window and casting a glance outside. As if there is anything worth seeing on a street that never changes, one that hasn’t had cars passing on it in over twenty years.

“I’m sorry, I just—I panicked,” you whisper, keeping your head just low enough that you can still see Joel’s outline against the dim light of the street lamp outside. His shoulders seem to hang a tad lower than usual, still broad but not as intimidating as they once seemed, especially with him dressed in his usual pajamas consisting of soft plaid pants and a worn shirt.

“Don’t apologize. You’re bound to have some triggers after everything. It’s good if we figure them out as early as possible.” He pauses for a moment, turning around to study your face. “Was it being by yourself?”

You gently shake your head. “No. Not really. It was more—I thought I heard a door close. Like you were leaving.”

You can see the exact moment he understands what you are implying and his face falls slightly. “Oh, darlin’, you know I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t leave you. You know that, right?” 

The only response you can manage is a shaky nod.

Joel sighs as he sits down next to you, rubbing his thumb over the small bald spot in his beard. To both your surprise, it’s you who starts the conversation back up.

“What about you?”

A frown appears between Joel's brows at the question and he turns towards you, studying your face as if the answers to whatever questions he has are written there. “What about me?”

“You were up too, weren’t you?” you ask quietly, turning your body towards him and leaning into the couch, the plush cushions and the blanket comfortable against your skin.

“Yeah but I was just—I wanted to get some things done for tomorrow—”

“Joel,” you stop him, raising your brow a tiny bit. It’s not meant to be hurtful, you’re sure of that. But if he believes you will swallow such a blatantly obvious lie, he may not be as good at this as you thought he was. “It’s not fair if you’re not honest with me.”

You can see his facade crumble as his expression falters and he nods quietly. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that.” Still, he seems to consider his words very carefully. “I don’t sleep well, sometimes. So I figured I may as well do some work. Didn’t wanna wake you with my tossing ‘n turning.”

Your heart aches at how casually he mentions this. It makes sense that he’d have nightmares. And you’re sure you barely know half of what they’re about. Joel cares so much when it comes to you that it genuinely baffles you how easily he brushes it off when he is the one suffering.

And then, a very quiet voice reminds you that this may be, like so many things, your fault. That you are so messed up that even big bad Joel Miller begins to struggle if he keeps you around for too long.

“Was it about—” You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. It suddenly appears to you how difficult that is and you silently vow to thank Joel for having found them all throughout the last few days. “Was it about what we were talking about earlier?”

You have to be a horrible person. Because you know that deep inside, you want him to say yes. To assure you that this is about the things from his past that still haunt him and not about Lane—or about you. You don’t want to be the cause for his sleepless nights.

He doesn’t respond, but you have a feeling he doesn’t need to. It’s written all over him. The way he holds his body, the eyes that won’t meet yours. You don’t know what to do. You want to help. Maybe the same way he wants to help you. Cooking dinner, making coffee, getting an extra blanket. Because this is something he can’t fix. Only mend.

7 months earlier

“There is absolutely no way I’m going in there,” you proclaimed, dipping your toe into the water below you. “That is freezing!”

“It’s better once you’re in there. We can’t have hiked all this way for nothing,” a voice mused next to you. “Besides, it was your idea to come up here.”

“Well, I haven’t been before and I sure as hell wouldn’t have if I'd known it would involve freezing to death,” you groaned, lifting your foot back to the safety of solid ground below you and taking a few steps along the water of Flat Creek Lake.

It was crystal clear, allowing you to see the small rocks littering the bottom of the lake and the little fish zooming back and forth between them. It was still enough that you could see the reflection of the sky, blue with a few clouds scattered in between. The first warm day of the year.

You took in the scenery for a few more moments, letting your gaze wander further over the water and the trees on the other side of the lake and the mountains behind them, before turning back towards Lane—only to find that she’d thrown her clothes over a nearby trunk and was sporting a striped bathing suit. A small whistle escaped your throat.

“Haven’t seen that one before,” you commented off-handedly, causing a faint blush to appear on her cheeks. “That’s ‘cause it’s not mine.”

You raised a brow as you watched her wade into the water, sending small rippling waves out into the lake. “Wait, you’re not saying—”

A tiny smirk had appeared on Lane’s face. “Cat was nice enough to lend it to me when I told her we were gonna hike up here.”

“I see how it is.” You grinned, pushing your shirt over your head and throwing it next to Lane's pile of clothes. Unlike her, you opted for some of your more covered up underwear. Swimsuits weren’t exactly a clothing priority and you hadn’t found yourself in need of any until now. “I’m not enough for you anymore,” you said dramatically, throwing a hand towards your temple. “How will I ever get over you leaving me?”

“Oh shut up. Besides, if you are allowed to have your boyfriend over for dinner every other month, I am definitely good to borrow a bathing suit.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” You groaned exasperatedly. “Joel is not my boyfriend. He’s just–” You raised a hand and waved it through the air, trying to find the right word. It wouldn’t come.

“I don’t know. We’re just friends.” You weakly kicked at a small rock below you before stepping into the water for the second time that day, getting your feet used to the temperature of the mountain lake.

“Even Tommy says Joel doesn’t have friends,” Lane pointed out with a lopsided grin.

You shrugged. You yourself weren’t sure what to call your relationship with Joel, and even though you’d tried not to think on it too hard, the question had forced itself to the forefront of your mind more than once. And with every passing month, it seemed to become more persistent and difficult to push away.

“Are you gonna get over here or think about that old man all day?”

Lane paid for her comment (and, you silently vowed, for daring to call Joel old) by receiving a big splash of cold water aimed directly at her. She squealed, jumping the few steps over to you and pulling you further into the lake. It didn’t seem quite as cold as you splashed around in it together, only coming back out when you saw that Lane’s lips began to match the shade of her hair and pointed out that her freezing to death would really ruin the early summer day.

You headed over to one of the log cabins at the foot of the small lake, a place so far from civilization that it had barely been touched since the outbreak. It had taken you close to six hours to make the hike up the dirt road into the mountains. But, upon seeing the view in front of you, you both had agreed that getting up early had been worth it.

“Who told you about this again?” Lane asked, her mouth slightly open as she stared around the cabin that seemed almost completely intact. Bits and pieces were missing but the furniture was still properly arranged, mugs and plates were lined up neatly on a shelf over the sink and even a few items of clothing were still dangling from some hooks near the door.

“Joel did,” you admitted quietly. She just wiggled her eyebrows at you before heading further into the cabin, peeking into the small bathroom and the adjacent bedroom.

“Hey, there’s some towels here,” she called over her shoulder and came back a few moments later holding some cream-colored towels that had probably once been white. Even in the more remote areas around Jackson, finding housing that was this intact was rather rare.

“Maybe we should take a look around,” you offered, your mind already wandering to which treasures could be hidden in the cabin. Anything from practical items like medicine to more recreational ones—possibly a nice bottle of whiskey, stored away just for you to find. As if she could read your thoughts, Lane pursed her lips a little, one hand smoothing over the towels in her hands.

You stared at her. “What?”

“I don’t think we should take anything;” she said softly. “At least not back to Jackson.”

You felt a small frown appear on your forehead as you mulled her words over in your mind. “What do you mean? It’s not like anyone’ll come back for this.” You gently tapped the wood of the cupboard next to you. “Judging by the amount of dust these have not been touched in at least a decade.”

She shrugged, stepping back towards the front door. “I just mean, if it’s been very peaceful here for so long… We shouldn’t be the ones to make it less so.”

You stared after Lane as she stepped outside, watching her descend down the few wooden steps that led up to the cabin and the way the sun hit her blue hair, the ends still dripping slightly.

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts and follow her back to the lake, carefully closing the cabin door behind you. You both had secured a towel each from the cabin and were drying off when Lane caught you off-guard for the second time that day.

“Do you remember any of it? Before, I mean?”

You sighed softly. The question that had become as recurring as ‘and what do you do for a living?’ had once been. In hindsight, you were surprised you hadn’t discussed it earlier–at least not in detail.

“I do. Not much, not anything–I don’t remember how the world was. Just how it seemed to me as a kid,” you answered truthfully.

You could see Lane nod out of the corner of your eye as she leaned back and wrung out her hair.

“I miss it sometimes.” A few seconds of quiet passed. “It’s silly, really. You can’t miss something you don’t remember.”

“I think you can,” you said softly, turning your head towards her. She had paused in her movements and was gazing out onto the lake, though her eyes seemed much more distant than usual.

Your own stayed trained on her as she spoke, her tone a tad lower. “Do you ever think about leaving?”

If it had been anyone else with you, you probably would’ve lied, claimed that of course your heart never wavered, that you knew you were exactly where you needed to be. But this was Lane. Lane was safe.

“Sometimes,” you answered, your voice equally quiet even though you were sure there was no one around to listen except the small fish and possibly a fawn hiding in the undergrowth. “But then, I suppose it wouldn’t make much of a difference. We’d suffer through the day anywhere. But here, we at least have something to come home to when the suffering is done.”

It wasn’t exactly as positive as you may have wanted to sound. You’d always felt a tad protective over Lane, with her being a few years younger and less experienced. You knew she looked up to you and you wanted to set a good example, more than anything.

But that included being honest.

“When I came—When I headed to Wyoming, I was looking for something better than a QZ or Fedra,” you said softly. “I think I could’ve ended up in a lot of places much worse than Jackson.”

“But Jackson isn’t what you were looking for.”

You shook your head. “No. I suppose it’s not. But it’s what I found.”

You gave a bittersweet smile and she returned it, even though hers still seemed slightly broader than yours. It was an odd moment that passed between you, almost an unspoken agreement not to dwell on the topic too long. To not speak of the loss.

“What about you?” you asked, shifting the conversation away from yourself. “Do you remember anything from before?”

Lane gave a small snort at that. “Yeah, now that you ask, I remember pooping my pants.” She shook her head weakly, leaning back and staring out at the water again. “I was a baby.” A sigh escaped her lips as her body faltered slightly, her shoulders dropping a tiny bit. “Sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I’d been born ten years earlier. If it had been—I don’t know. Better.”

“Well, for the record, I’m glad you ended up in Jackson at the same time I did,” you said softly, nudging her shoulder.

She nodded and smiled, returning the small gesture. It doesn’t dawn on you until much later that she talks about her life in past tense.

“Okay, a tiny bit to the left,” Lane waved her hand as if she could position you like a puppet. “My left or yours?”

“Yours—Yeah, like that.”

A few seconds passed where you showed the lens your best smile and saw Lane fumbling with the buttons before the noise of the camera shutter announced that she’d found a frame she was content with. The giggle that followed, however, took you by surprise. “What?” You asked, looking past the lens and trying to catch a glimpse of her face. “What's so funny?!”

“Oh, I just thought about whether or not to slip this into the slideshow at the town hall next week. Maybe that would finally get Joel to ask you out.”

“You, Eleanor, are a pervert,” you commented drily, letting yourself fall back onto your comfortable towel and reaching for your book, trying to ignore the small wave of heat that had suddenly spread through your body at the thought of Joel seeing you like this.

“You know, I do think you two would fit together pretty well,” Lane hummed with her eyes closed half an hour later when both of you had stretched out on your towels and were bathing in the sun, waiting for the warmth to dry you. Content to ignore the world around you for just another hour.

You put your book down for a moment, squinting as you glanced over at her. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you but nothing is happening between Joel and me. Not ever.”

***

His knock on the bathroom door is tentative, two gentle raps that travel through the wood towards you.

“Are you almost done?”

You stare at your reflection. A woman in black stares back. You know she is about to attend a funeral, the dark outfit and the sadness hiding behind concealer that doesn’t quite match her skin tone giving away what awaits her just as much as what’s behind.

You long to wish her something, to give her hope. But you don’t have any left to give.

You wish you could stay in the comforting bathroom forever, retire the black clothes, bundle them up and hide them at the very back of the cupboard below the sink, next to long expired cleaning supplies and a broken hairdryer. Close the door on all of them and run a hot bath to curl up in, one that never runs cold and that you never have to leave.

“Are you alright in there?”

Joel’s tone has turned slightly worried, no doubt owing to the fact that you are too busy keeping yourself from having a panic attack to respond properly.

“I’m done,” you call out, your voice trembling a little but at least it’s loud enough for him to hear. You can practically see him nod outside the door, even before you’ve moved over to it and turned the knob. Facing Joel Miller is the easy part. Facing the rest of the world is the hard one.

His gaze flies over you very briefly, taking in the clothes he retrieved from your house for the occasion, but you barely notice. What you do notice is that Joel has shaved while you were getting ready, his beard a little more neat than usual, even if still streaked with the small hints of gray that make your eyes linger. What makes your breath hitch in your throat however are his clothes.

He’s dressed accordingly, in a black suit that’s been patched up in a few places and is half a size too small on his broad frame. You’re alarmingly aware you have never seen him in a suit before—you’re certain you'd remember if you did if this is what he looks like.

It doesn’t quite fit the Joel who’s been following you around the house like an anxious guard dog, the man who wears plaid shirts and jeans so much that you remember being surprised when you first found out he does not, in fact, sleep in them. He always looks comfortable, in his worn shirts and slightly stained clothes, like he’s been wearing them for years, like he’ll never change. Like he’ll never leave. A constant that nothing could take from you, like the peaks of the mountains you can see from Jackson on a clear day.

But now he looks—there is no other way to put it—sexy. The suit, tight in all the right places, momentarily manages to take your mind off the why and you very briefly allow yourself to just stare at him.

“Hey, you’re not gonna pass out on me, are you?” Joel muses, bringing a hand to your shoulder to steady you. He looks worried, the crease on his forehead that never seems to leave it these days a little deeper than usual. Of course he’d think that your behavior can be attributed to your distress. Which it can, technically, just a completely different kind of distress.

“Sorry, no, I'm fine,” you reassure him, pushing your way further into the bedroom and taking a deep breath. He doesn’t move quite in time, causing your side to brush over his and you can actually feel the smooth fabric of his blazer against the skin of your hand where they meet. You catch a whiff of his aftershave—or whatever the hell makes him smell so good—just as you step past him into the bedroom and towards the door, completely missing that the slight scowl on Joel's face has changed ever so slightly.

“Come on, Texas. I don’t wanna be late,” you mumble, trying to lighten the mood—or at least distract from the fact that your brain is ready to head down a wildly inappropriate path. It must be the shock causing it to go haywire, or at least that is what you silently vow to believe.

Still, you’re careful to not turn around far enough to actually see him, keeping him safely out of sight.

Because you really must be the worst person in the world to stand here, about to attend you best friends funeral, and leer over some fucking man.

Just that it's Lane's funeral and a small voice in the back of your head that sounds oddly like her pipes up to say that he does look good and that, if nothing else, this may be the one good thing to come out of today. Joel Miller in a fucking suit.

notes: thank you for reading! i have a few more chapters done but opening this fic is somehow both my therapy and mentally very taxing so bear with me please <3

[wandering-winchesters]

If this is how I go, it’s worth it.

Dean x injured reader

Word count: 1,926

Trigger Warnings: injury, blood, mention of a firearm.

Summary: reader gets hurt protecting Dean.

A/N: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know! Masterlist

I’ve always had a hard time letting people into my life. Introducing them to the real me, the darker side of me that I hide behind a bubbly facade. The childhood that shaped me, something that very few people know about. When I was little there was no one to protect me from the things that I had to live through, the nightmarish situations that I still relive too often in my sleep. In adulthood, I’ve changed the narrative. I’ve become the protector, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help someone else. Save someone else. Especially those that I love and hold close to my heart.

Sam and Dean have always held a special place in my life. Ever since I met them, on a hunt many years ago. They’d taken me under their wing, Sam willingly, Dean reluctantly. I knew nothing of the supernatural until I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and become the next helpless victim of a nest of vampires. That was until Sam and Dean showed up, just in time.

They knew I didn’t have a great childhood, I’d clued them into that much. However, I would never let them in entirely. It was too much, I didn’t want them to think of me any differently. I’ve seen the way Dean already looks at me after hunts, the annoyance that comes over him when things don’t go the way he wanted. I see the concern that washes over Sam, when I come close to being injured, or when I walk away with cuts and bruises. I don’t need their pity, they don’t need that burden.

Through everything over the years, I began to love them more than I thought possible. Sam like a brother. Dean like an annoying asshole, but also my best friend that I loved with all of my heart, not that I would ever tell him. I couldn’t, he would never feel the same way I was sure of it.

So when I saw that demon smirk and point a gun directly towards Dean’s head, I never hesitated to throw myself onto him and shove him to the ground. My body blocking the path of the bullet, giving Sam enough time to finish the exorcism, the black cloud erupting from the helpless man and fleeing the room.

“What the hell, Y/N. You shouldn’t have done that!” Dean yells, anger etching its way across his face, the concern only evident from the tone of his voice. His eyes searching mine for any sign of pain.

“He was going to kill You Dean.” I grovel, pushing myself off of him, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Dean scowls, his hand coming up to his face to wipe some sweat from his brow.

“So what? You were going to sacrifice yourself for me? How much of an idiot are you?”

I roll my eyes at him, pushing off my thighs to stand from the squatting position I had moved into. It wasn’t until I stood fully upright and began to stretch my limbs that the searing pain caught up to me. I press my hand to my abdomen instinctively, trying to dull the pain.

“I’m not an idiot De-“ I stop mid sentence as I bring my hand up to eye level. Red. Dripping , red blood, covers the entirety of my fingers. My eyes dart up from my hand, locking with Sam’s from across the room. He’s staring back at me, shock etched across his face, but beginning to walk towards me.

“That’s debatable- oh my god Y/N, fuck.” Dean starts, his tone changing halfway through his lecture. He takes the two steps necessary to get to me, taking his flannel off in the process. I feel his hands grip my body, one going to my back, the other balling his flannel up and pressing it tightly against the wound in my abdomen.

“Sam, you’ve gotta help me.” Dean pleads, his eyes never leaving my face.

My body starts to feel numb, the adrenaline wearing off and searing pain roaring through every nerve ending in my body. I feel my legs collapse beneath me, Dean quickly compensating for my lack of lower body strength, by pulling me into his embrace.

I laugh bitterly, coughing and choking on what I assume is blood making its way through my lungs and out of my throat.

“If this is how I go De, it’s worth it. I promise you.” I whisper, my eyes locking with his vivid green ones. His eyes. I’d never allowed myself to stare into his eyes for this long, the deep green is enchanting. Pulling me in, the longer I look. I barely even notice my tears beginning to fall, I’m too focused on the way his eyes are beginning to water as he stares back at me.

I can see his lips moving, feel the way he’s shaking me gently, his hand cupping my face. Sam is right next to me too, I feel the floor pressing into my body as they lower me to the ground, in an attempt to slow the bleeding and apply more pressure. None of that matters now. Nothing matters now, my vision is blurring. My eyelids are heavy, so heavy.

“Hey!” Dean’s firm voice breaks through my haze, his hand lightly slapping my face, “don’t do that, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes. You don’t get to die on me, you hear me sweetheart?” I blink rapidly, trying to clear my field of vision. I momentarily succeed, my eyes locking with his again. I can see the absolute panic engraved into every ounce of this man’s face, he’s moving me now. My head falls forward as he places an arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees. He tucks my head against his chest with his chin, pressing a kiss to my sweat soaked hairline. I continue to fight the wave of exhaustion sweeping over me, blinking my eyes trying to keep them open. The last thing I see is Dean, looking down at me pleading for me to stay with him. But slowly, ever so slowly, my eyes fall closed and the world around me goes black

-

Agony.

This must be hell, the amount of pain that I’m in, the only explanation is hell.

A low groan escapes my lips, every inch of my skin is on fire. Muscles and nerves that I didn’t know I had are screaming out in protest as I try to take a full breath. I manage to inhale, immediately turning into a coughing fit as I choke on the air entering my lungs.

“Easy. Slow breaths, sweetheart.” A hand comes to rest on the crown of my head, stroking my hair gently. The touch startling me, causing me to panic and try to brush away the touch.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” His voice rushes over my senses, calming me, reassuring me.

I force myself to open my eyes, unsure what to expect.

“Dean?” I whisper, finally realizing that he’s here in-front of me. “Am I dead?” My voice barely functioning, my throat dry and hoarse.

“It’s me sweetheart. You’re not dead. I told you I wasn’t going to let you go.” He smiles slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He holds a cup up to my lips, letting me take small sips, his fingers never leaving my skin.

“I must be dead, the Dean I know is never this nice to me.” I whisper, a small laugh escaping me, which I immediately regret. Relief floods over deans face, the crease in his brow lessens, a small smile reaches his eyes this time.

“That’s not true, idiot.” He says, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“That’s more like it, bitch.” I say, squeezing his hand back.

-

The next few weeks pass slowly, I’m never alone for more than five minutes. The boys take turns, keeping me company, changing my bandages, helping me shower, and just all around waiting on me hand and foot. Dean spends every night on the couch, that he had dragged into my room in the bunker. I don’t object, too weak and tired to even dare. I spend a lot of time sleeping, nightmares plaguing my every attempt at resting.

Tonight is one of those nights, I’ve already awoken from a nightmare. Now I lay on my side, gazing at Dean sitting on the couch. His fingers hovering over the keyboard on his laptop, researching some creature that he has refused to tell me about. Any time I have asked, it starts an argument about how the only thing I need to think about right now is recovering.

“I can feel you staring.” He smirks, bringing his eyes to meet my own, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile. He seems older, worry is etched deeper into his face, his eyes not nearly as bright as they used to be. The dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the terrible late night lighting of my room.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so annoying I can’t not stare.” I mumble, gently pushing myself up on my elbow. Trying to conceal the wince that follows this slight movement.

Dean chuckles, closing his laptop and turning his body to face me.

“Y/N, we need to talk about what happened back there.” He stares, his brow furrowing again. So many emotions sweep across his face at once, I cant read him.

“You can’t do that again. You cant throw yourself into harms way to save me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. What am I saying? Something did happen to you. I already have a hard time looking at you, knowing you almost died to save me. I love you too much, to let you die for me.” He wrings his hands as he speaks, his eyes moving away from mine and focusing on the wooden floor boards beneath his feet.

A silence falls between us for a few moments, his words hanging heavy in the air. My head spinning at his words, I love you too much. Dean Winchester loves me.

“Dean, I don’t think you understand me nearly as well as you think you do. There is nothing you can say or do that would stop me from taking a bullet for you again. I will always do everything in my power to protect you. Protect you in the way that I never had. You would do it for me De, you gotta let me do it for you too.” His eyes are trained on me again, red rimmed and watery. He swipes at them with his fingers, clearing his throat and maintaining eye contact with me once more.

I slide my feet towards the edge of the bed, intent upon going to sit near to him. He stops me with a look and a few mumbled words about how I better not move my ass from my spot or else.

I huff, patting the bed next to me.

“C’mere then, Winchester.” I say, watching his every move as he crosses the distance of the bedroom to sit by my side.

“De-“I rest my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves. He reaches over and intertwines our fingers, his thumb tracing a pattern into the back of my hand. “I love you too, more than I thought possible. I’ll always do anything I can to save you. On this side of hell and the next.”

[valcetious]

"𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑲 𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑬𝑺."

pairing: childe x reader

tags: toxic relationship, manipulation, delusional thinking, implied abuse, implied entrapment, romanticised physical harm, reference to death

w/c: 1349

a/n: the themes of this fic are a tad, uhhh… questionable. i like to indulge in the fucked up characterisation ideas in my head sometimes, so here we are. tartaglia is obviously my victim for this because of reasons that i do not believe need further explaining lmfaooo. author has bpd so there’s lots of undertones of that, my bad y’all. heed the tags!

translations: милый (miliy) = “dear”, “darling” [gn] // любимый (lyubimyy) = “beloved” [masc]

“it didn’t matter that he was a wolf behind the guise of a sheep. it didn’t matter that he hunted you from the shadows. for you, the lamb, were willing no matter the consequences – for you all are sick creatures.”

childe was many things. many contradicting things. as were you.

maybe that’s why it was so easy to find yourselves entangled with each other - unable to tear yourselves apart. lost amongst each other.

you didn’t mind, truly. you were content to be lost amongst him of all people. he was your everything. the reason your heart beat, the reason your lungs filled with oxygen, the reason your eyes could see. he was everything.

nothing would change that, ever. nothing could sully this idolised view of him. nothing could ever erase him. he was a form of unattainable perfection – the epitome of all things right in this world of deluded views.

maybe if life had been kinder to you, you never would never have found solace in him. maybe, if life had shown you true love, you would have seen the truth behind what you perceived to be love. but alas; life was not kind, nor had it shown you true love.

and so, when kindness and love is devoid – it’s easy to find yourself falling for what your brain believes you deserve. you begin to break yourself down and rebuild yourself. piece by piece, block by block, you become an entity different from what you first came to this world as. you rebirth your soul, telling yourself that this life, this life of instability and pain, is the only constant you will ever have. and over time, you develop a certain view of life and love. you develop a certain attachment to people. one that consumes your entire being – an attachment that poisons everything it touches.

like a moth to a flame, you remember so clearly the first time your eyes fell upon him. it was as if he demanded your gaze, an indescribable force pulling you towards him. he looked back at you, or maybe through you. you weren’t sure. you can recall the shivers that went down your spine, his gaze strong and steadfast.

he was the enemy. at least, supposed to be. no enemy should shine as brightly as he did, you thought.

you remember so clearly the first time you saw that look in his eyes. the one that gazed at you as if you were the most desirable thing in the world.

in that moment, his hands were wrapped around your throat, a sickening grin on his face. despite the feral madness he wore, somehow, he seemed like a work of art. so strong, determined, passionate. and yet, he was going to kill you, you were the enemy. of course he was going to kill you. but the panic that should’ve been filling your body simply ceased to exist. no alarms bells. no warnings symbols. just a single, floating thought.

he was beautiful.

the weight of his hands around your throat seemed to be less of a burden at that realisation. it was almost as if it morphed into a comfort - something to remind you of how fragile you were under his fingers. maybe that thought should’ve disturbed you, but it didn’t. instead, you felt some sort of satisfaction.

some sort of purpose arising at the concept of being discarded by him.

the way his eyes searched yours left you feeling oddly charmed – his attention focused on you and you only. his orbs were dull, as if he were dead inside; funny, considering he had such a disarming smile. you looked over his face, really looking this time. he truly was beautiful, physically too.

you remember the way his fingers loosened around your neck after a moment, his orbs darkening as he smiled. though this smile wasn’t the same grin of sadistic pleasure he had previously worn. he seemed almost pleased, as if you were some sort of treasure that he’d been searching for all his life.

“you’re perfect.”

in childe, you found purpose. he loved you. he did. and you loved him. madly so.

and that was precisely the problem. you loved each other. too much.

you loved each other so much that pain and suffering were synonymous with love. you loved each other so much that not even death would do you apart. and childe knew this. he knew this all too well.

childe knew you were irrevocably his. knew that no matter what would happen, you would never run. you were simply his. his to have forever. his to keep, to own, to have. and he would have all of you. your body, your mind, your thoughts, your actions. all of it would be belonging to him, and him only. he would make sure of it, no matter the cost.

perhaps you should’ve known better. maybe part of you did know better. but did any of that matter? did any of it really matter? the world without childe was dark, threatening, consuming. everything was horrible — until him. he arrived and suddenly, things seemed to take shape. a sense of self started to emerge.

and yet, it was hardly a sense of self; rather a collection of delusional ideas that were fed and tended to by the one you fixated upon. you had fooled yourself into thinking it was you.

but see, there was some simplicity in losing your mind.

there was peace in indulgence of your delusional thoughts.

it was sick — you were sick. and you could not be treated — this sickness rotted you from the inside out. no amount of medicine or healing would quell your soul of this darkness.

“милый,” the harbinger purred, a blood-stained hand wiping a tear from your cheek, “you’re so pretty when you cry.”

you trembled underneath his touch, the pain from your abdomen flaring up throughout your whole body. and yet - the pain was nothing compared to that adoration in childe’s eyes. a whimper escaped your lips as you shifted, and the harbinger cooed. it was a soft, sweet sound. like a parent hushing their young. a bloody finger pressed against your lips, a sickeningly sweet smile painted upon his features.

“shhh, you’re doing so well for me,” childe murmured, pressing a kiss to your exposed collarbones.

your eyes flicker to childe’s right hand, catching the glint of the dagger in the moonlight. stained in your blood, and your blood only. a special dagger, just for you, as childe had described it. your eyes trail back to his face. his eyes watched you with so much curiosity, it made you feel so bare under his gaze; as if he were peering into the deepest parts of you. his gaze aligned with yours, his empty eyes boring holes into you. despite the dullness, there was a glint of passion burning within them.

he revelled in your pain. and you loved it.

you loved him.

“would you die for me, милый?” childe’s voice questioned, the hand that sat upon the back of your neck tightening with his words.

“without a second thought, любимый,” you had replied, eyes sliding shut at the pressure of childe’s fingers.

you didn’t need to think about the answer. you knew without childe, you were lost. death was a sweeter release than a world without him. you couldn’t live without childe. it was impossible. you couldn’t let him go. he was worth the cost of everything.

the red-head hummed, a satisfied look on his face. you were so perfect – truly. no other soul so blindly loved him in the way you did. no other soul had ever come close to the sickness within him. until you.

that lovestruck look in yours eyes when he would hurt you only proved your loyalty.

and he was determined to keep that loyalty. even if it meant destroying you and rebuilding you all over again, by his hands only.

no other would ever come close to you.

you were a sick creature, as was he.

you were made for no one but him.

© valcetious, cross-posted on ao3.

requests currently open!

[3d-wifey]

What are those WIPs looking like? c'mon pleaseeee 😩😩😩😩give us a list. ur my favorite writer and I read everything I write, I wanna know what I have to look forward to (if you don't want to that's totally okay)

December Wip List

This took me a fucking minute 😭😭 please tell me if any of you wanna be tagged for any of the following.

In-progress series (original)

And They’d Find Us a Week (Hunger Games) - Finnick x implied black!Reader

↳ You run cold, you always have, it’s just another thing to love as far as Finnick is concerned. He himself emits heat like a furnace on the best of days. He remembers cold hands touching his heated skin, cold toes shocking the skin of his legs whenever you lay together. But now, now Finnick feels nothing but a hissing heat as your mouths press together. Heat like a hot knife cutting into a block of ice, like a blazing star consuming him in a ball of fire, only to sizzle into a warm embrace. He melts into you, trusting that you’ll sculpt him back together with your glacial grip.

Or

After everything you and Finnick have gone through together, it only makes sense that you’ve grown a little attached.

↳Status: Ongoing; posted

The Female of the species (The Boys) - Various/Homelander x black!supe!Reader

↳ “So what? I was grown in a lab like a, like a—fucking Chia Pet?” You can feel the air around you become charged, molecules flying by your ears at top speed. Ashley rushes to catch her papers that she stupidly left loose. “Calm yourself.” Edgar drones and his lack of reaction to you turning the room into a small cyclone only aggravates you further.

Or

Both a woman who’s used to getting whatever she wants and a man who’s never heard no, created in a lab. What a horrible pair you two will make. (basically ‘I can’t fix him. I can fuck him though, maybe that’ll help.’ Says woman that is worse.)

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

All On His Mouth Like Liquor (Succession) - black!Reader x Various [Shiv, Tom, Greg?, Kendall, Roman?, Menkin, Matsston, Stewy]

↳ "Mmm. You know, I've got a pretty cushy job in the White House lined up. I might be able to get you on my team." Jeryd places a hand on the counter next to your hip, leaning into your space, but you ignore him in favor of fixing your smeared lipstick. "I'm not looking to be anyone's Monica Lewinski."  “You think pretty highly of yourself." You pause and glance down at yourself. At the way your blouse is just on the right side of too tight. The way leaving the top two buttons undone gives anyone interested a glimpse of your necklace dipping between your cleavage. You turn to the side and look in the mirror at the way your skirt clings onto your ass and thighs, curves modestly on display. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised. "Point." He concedes, eyes still looking you over.

Or

As her assistant, it’s quite literally your job to be a Shiv defender.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Please Don’t Go (I’ll Eat You Whole) (Scream) - Yandere!Billy x Reader x Yandere!Stu

↳"Do you…find me…attractive?" He drawls, words drawn out like you're an exceptionally stupid child. And, honestly, you're starting to wonder if you're suffering from brain damage.  This is insane. Seriously, how many unhinged things can happen to one person in 48 hours? "I, uh, I mean,” you shrug, staring over his shoulder at your wall, "yeah. But, Billy, a lot of people do, which is what I was trying to say—" "There's a difference between people and you." He sits up, leaning towards you. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Billy, it's really not that big of a deal." You sigh, moving to get up—unwilling to let yourself be embarrassed. But he stops you, grabbing your hand, and you realize in a panic that he isn't going to let this go. "It is to me." He pulls you back on the bed closer than you were before, thighs brushing together. "What would have happened if I did?" You roll your eyes. Why are you humoring this? "Well, I might have had a girlfriend who didn't find me disgusting." “I don’t…I…” You shake your head in disbelief, breath catching in your chest before rushing out a weary sigh. “How the hell am I supposed to respond to that, Billy? Wh–what am I supposed to do with that?”

Or

When you love someone the way Billy and Stu love you, well, what’s a little manipulation between friends?

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Once More to See You (Bridgerton) - Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

↳ Anthony is not one for flowery musings. He isn’t a poet, nor does he spend his time admiring the arts or waxing poetics about beauty and such. No, he leaves that sort of thing to his brother. But as you peer up at him with expectant eyes, the lights of the chandeliers painting you in a soft yellow, he can understand why a war was waged over Helen of Troy.

Or

You’ve finally come home from France and you’re a woman grown—far too old to entertain the silly musings you had as a girl. You’ve been presented to higher society and your search for a suitable husband has just begun, but Anthony isn’t willing to be so easily forgotten.

↳ Status: Ongoing; posted

You Set My Soul Alight (House of the Dragon) - Yandere!Daemon Targaryen x Reader

↳ He presents the wreath to you and you have no choice but to take it. There is a pause before hesitant cheers erupt around you, building in confidence until the entire stadium is roaring. Prince Daemon is the champion and has crowned you the Queen of Love and Beauty, dedicating his victory to you—just like he said he wouldn’t.  He smirks up at you, his plan unfolding before your eyes.  It is the beginning of the end. 

Or

Perhaps it would have been easier on everyone if you had just told Daemon you were being betrothed before your father publically announced it.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

She’s My Collar (JJK) - Geto x Reader x Gojo

↳ Oh, you don’t hate them. Hate would require a level of acknowledgment that you don’t bestow upon the two boys. You’d have to notice them to hate them, you’d have to care and you’re indifferent at most. No, it’s much more simple than that. Gojo and Geto just aren’t on your radar.

Or

Being the first of your clan in centuries to join the world of Jujutsu sorcerers, specifically Tokyo Jujutsu Acadamy, is sure to make waves. And with a cursed technique like yours, it’s no wonder the Strongest have taken an interest in you. If only it was mutual.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Star Wars) - Anakin x Reader x Obi-Wan 

↳"I can train her." All eyes look to Master Skywalker's hologram. He sits reclined in his chair—or what you presume is a chair—as if he's discussing the weather and not taking you on as an apprentice. "No." Windu turns him down immediately and you frown, just as against the idea as he is. You're sure many other Padawans would jump at the notion of being trained by Anakin Skywalker, but it's completely unnecessary. "In fact, you are the last person that should train her."

Or

As a Senior Padawan, nothing can keep you from doing your part in the war, not even the untimely death of your Master. Yoda asking Obi-Wan to take you under his tutelage is surprising. Almost as surprising as Anakin volunteering to do it himself. 

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

Limerence (The Sandman) - Morpheus x major arcana nightmare!Reader x Corinthian

↳ You watch as Adam and Eve run hand in hand, far from the Garden Of Eden. Steps hurried, frantic as if worried God would change his mind and bring them back—lock them away in that pretty cage again. But they are smiling. There's not an ounce of regret within either of them. You search and find that their only desire is to be free, together. Love is such a strange thing, you think from your spot between Dream and the Corinthian.

Or

If you and Corinthian are two stars orbiting each other, then Dream is the black hole that birthed you—drawing you both closer and closer while tearing you apart. One day, he will swallow you both whole, and you will say thank you.

↳ Status: Ongoing; not posted

In progress sequels

Show em Who I Belong to pt.2 - Dom!Johnny Cage

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You, Baby pt.2 - Manipulative/toxic!Erwin Smith

One-shots

Damon, Klaus, Elijah x reincarnated!Reader (TVD/TO) - 1989 is the worst year of your life simply because it's the year you met Damon and, consequently, the year you were reborn for the last time.  (might be a series)

Nick x Reader x Jacob (The Quarry) - A game of truth or dare has led to the last night of Summer going to complete and total shit. Having been bitten by some kind of beast and feeling like you're going to literally burst out of your skin, the only upside is being stuck between two hot guys who are desperately in love with you. It could be worse. At least you weren’t the only one bitten. 

Remus Lupin (Harry Potter) x Reader - You and Remus are quite competitive, always going head-to-head in your classes. It’s commonplace to compete for the highest marks. What isn’t commonplace, is the sabotage in the form of Remus’s wandering hands.  

Sirius Black (Harry Potter) x Hufflepuff!Reader - Sirius can’t help but feel like he’s the only person in the entire school that you hate. Probably because he is.

James Potter (Harry Potter) x Hufflepuff Quidditch captain!Reader - James Potter has been your sworn nemesis since your first year and now that you’re both captains of your respective teams, that rivalry has only grown. Now, if only Potter would get the memo.

Poly!Marauders x Reader (Harry Potter) - Honestly, in retrospect, you don’t know how you thought this would end without incredible irritation on your part. You thought the four of you had outgrown such childishness, that being the only reason you even invited them to the fundraising event. Had you known it would end like this, you would have declined the offer to volunteer altogether. 

Johnny Cage x Reader (MK1) - Johnny is too needy for you to wait until the awards show is over. Besides, he’s been so good for you, hasn’t he? Doesn’t that deserve positive reinforcement? You wouldn’t want him to act out, would you?

Himbo!Steve Harrington x bimbo!Reader (Stranger Things) - Steve was smarter than you, but only slightly. Not smart enough that he would ever hold it over you, but smart enough to know that the two of you shouldn't have been doing this in such a public place.

College loser!Mike x mean popular!Reader (FNAF) - “I promise I’ll be good, just…” “Use my thigh.” “What if I just leave you here, wet and needy.” “Clean my fingers, this is your mess.”

Manipulative proffessor!Erwin Smith x TA!Reader (AOT) - Erwin has a soft spot for you, his new TA.

Arthur Morgan x Photographer!Reader (RDR2) - "Sure." He takes a cursory look around at the towering trees before focusing his gaze back on you. His wide-brim hat shades eyes so blue that you’re certain the sky itself is teeming with envy.

Johnny Silverhand x Musician!Reader (Cyberpunk 2077) - It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to collaborate with Johnny Silverhand. If only he knew how to keep his mouth in check.

Luke, Han, Leia x Zeltron!Reader (Star Wars) - You’re not a Jedi. You don't know the Jedi code and you’re probably as Force sensitive as a particularly dedicated brick. Despite that, you’re pretty sure the Force isn’t supposed to be used like this.

Sebastian X Demon!Reader x Claude (Black Butler) - Your mistress is interested in doing business with Ciel Phantomhive. Who would have thought he had a demon on his payroll?  (might be a series)

NSFW Alphabets

Star (The Lost Boys) - Adding on to that poly Lost Boys Alphabet

Anakin

Obi-Wan

Negan

Damon Salvatore

Headcanons/drabbles

Earthrealm MK1 boys compete for Goddess!Reader’s attention

Paul (lost boys) eating you out while you’re both high

Dark/yandere Luke Skywalker NSFW headcanons

Yandere Targaryen men (Aegon i, Maegor, Aegon ii, Aemond, Daemon) x Reader - Being the pregnant wife of a close friend

Yandere Targaryen men x Reader - Finding out you’re being married off

More flirty intros (MK1 and MK11)

Dead By Daylight Killers x Obsession!Reader

Eren Jaeger with a breeding kink

Yandere/dark president Loki x Ironman variant!Reader

Possible ideas (I’ll take prompts on these/discuss these)

➔Astarion (BG3) x Reader : 

Smut for sure

Eat Your Young -  Astarion did try to stick to the plan, truly, he did. Some seduction here, a few implications there. It should have been enough to get him into your bedroll alongside your heart. It would have worked on quite literally anyone else, but you’re just so Gods damned oblivious! (might become a series)

➔John Snow (GOT) x Reader

➔Michael Myers x nurse!Reader (Halloween)

➔Veronica x Reader x JD (Heathers)

➔Sajanus Plinth x Capitol!Reader (Hunger Games) 

➔Poly!Lost Boys x Reader (The Lost Boys) - How you start dating

➔Bigby Wolf x fable!Reader (The Wolf Among Us)

➔Jerry Dandridge x black vampire!Reader (Fright Night) - You and Jerry have more in common than any of your other neighbors could possibly imagine. (might become a series)

➔Mischa x Reader (Ride the Cyclone) - You like to think you and Mischa are pretty close, you’d go as far as to call him your best friend. So why is it that you haven’t so much as seen a picture of this ‘Talia’?

➔Dennis Reynolds x Reader (IASIP) - Dennis is used to doing the chasing, so much so that he doesn’t even realize when he’s on the receiving end of his own system.

➔Will Graham x killer!Reader x Hannibal (Hannibal)

➔Rick Grimes x Reader (TWD)

➔Derek Hale x Reader (Teen Wolf)

➔Isaac Lahey x Reader (Teen Wolf)

➔Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader (Supernatural)

➔Castiel x angel!Reader (Supernatural)

➔Abed Nadir x Reader (Community)

➔Carlisle Cullen x Reader (Twilight)

➔Spike x Vampire!Reader (Buffy)

➔Kakashi x ex ambu!Reader x Tenzo (Naruto)

➔Sangwoo? X Horrible!Reader (Killing Stalking)

[hellfirenacht]

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

Summery: Through no powers of your own, you end up in Hawkins 1985, in a tv show that you once saw on Netflix. Slow burn, Eddie Munson x Reader will be canon, choose your own adventure to a degree, monkey’s paw author.

Isekai Chronicles Master List

START HERE <<<--- FIRST CHAPTER HERE

Chapter Summery: You get a new (old) car! That should help you get around Hawkins... right?

Tags: Eddie and Reader, sfw

Work Count: 2.8 k

Reader ==> Enjoy Your New Car!

The junk car that you managed to scrape together a couple hundred dollars for worked well enough for the first two weeks. It had no heating, no radio, the seats were uncomfortable, and there was a lingering scent that you couldn’t get rid of no matter how much you tried to clean it, but it drove you to the Hideout and the high school, and to the trailer you now called home. 

That was until about a half hour ago when the key snapped in the slot to turn the engine on. Could you ever catch a break? Just fucking once while you were here? 

You nearly jumped out of your seat and through the roof of your rust bucket when you heard a tap at the window. You looked to see Eddie, frowning at you and you manually cranked down the window. 

“Evenin’ officer. How can I help you?” you asked, trying not to sound as defeated as you felt in that moment.  

“This is a no parking zone.” He said, leaning over and resting his arms on the open window. It was late November, and the cold was consistent now, but you hardly noticed with how you’d been just staring out the windshield for the past thirty or so minutes. “Neighbors have been sending in complaints.”

You looked behind you at the neighboring trailers. There were at least 2 that had broken down cars within the block, one that’s been sitting on cinder blocks since before you arrived and one that the neighbor had been working on for a few weeks on and off. Other cars were scattered and parked near their own trailers, haphazardly. 

“I’ll be sure to move it.” you said, more dry than intended. 

“So why are you sitting out here in your car, staring out into space?” Eddie asked and looked out the way your car was facing, as if trying to see if there was anything interesting in that general direction. There wasn’t. 

“Car’s broke.”

“How broke?”

You held up the piece of plastic where your key had been attached to. 

“So the car’s fine, but the key broke.” Eddie clarified.

“Is there a difference?” You asked. 

“There is. If the car was busted then you’d be fucked out of this rust bucket-”

“Eddie, you can’t say things like that.-” you rubbed your face, now feeling the cold in the contrast to the warmth in your cheeks. 

“What I’m saying is I can help.” He continued. “Do you have any tools?”

“Uhhh....”

“Follow me.” 

You got out of the car, not bothering to roll the window back up, and followed Eddie back to his trailer across the park. It wasn’t a long walk, you had already come to visit your friend more than a few times since you moved in. You felt a little bad, you found yourself spending time at Eddie’s place more than your own. 

“So, what brought you to my end of the park?” you asked as the two of you walked. The ground was covered in a thin layer of frost that wouldn’t fully commit to snow or ice.

“Boredom.” he said honestly. “I fried my brain trying to learn this new riff I’ve been working on and I needed a break.” 

“New song for the set?” You asked. “It’s about time, I get that one Judas Priest song is a staple, but you’ve beaten it into the ground at this point.” 

“Prowler isn’t going anywhere as long as it’s the one song everyone can play consistently.” Eddie protested. “And it’s a new original song I’m working on.” 

“That’s actually really cool.” you followed him into his slightly warmer trailer and watched as he opened a tiny closet and pulled out a tool box. “How many original songs do you have?” 

“Three and a half.” Eddie said. “We uh.. We started with a song that Ronnie and I wrote together. We don’t play that one anymore, but we’ve got one other song, and this one that I’m working on now.”

“Why don’t you play the first song?” You asked as you followed him back out. 

Eddie’s face went stoic for a moment, staring at the dirty green toolbox. “It just didn’t work out.” he finally said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t interested in talking about the song. “The second song is called Litch and if Jeff can commit to learning the vocals then we’d actually be able to play it at the Hideout at some point. They always hesitate on playing our original songs.”

“I’d like to hear your original stuff at some point.” you said, following him back out into the cold. 

“If I can get the guys to commit, then you’ll hear it at some point.” Eddie said, leading the way back to your car. 

There were times where the two of you couldn’t shut up for five seconds, and then there were times where the silence between the two of you was deafening. Sometimes you felt like you were getting somewhere with your friendship with Eddie, and sometimes... sometimes you wondered if he thought about you at all when you weren’t around. 

He came over to see you. Of course he thinks about you. You told yourself, watching the subtle way his hair moved as the two of you walked together. 

Eddie hopping into the driver seat of your car and you moved into the passenger side seat next to him, with the toolbox between the two of you. He immediately pulled out some pliers and started messing with the key slot, trying to get the broken bit of metal out. 

You focused on his face, watching the way his eyes narrowed in concentration and the way his tongue subtly poked out from between his lips. That was something you noticed he did a lot. His brows were furrowed and from your angle it almost gave him a unibrow until he moved his fringe to the side. It was a little longer than it had been in the past two months and you wondered how often he cut it. 

“Shit.” he muttered and leaned back against the seat, his hands resting on the wheel. “Yeah, it’s really jammed in there.” 

“So I’m fucked out of this rust bucket?” you asked, frowning. 

“I... there’s another option.” Eddie said, staring at the wheel. “It’s not a smart option. It’d be stupid, actually and not really safe. And I’d have to do something not completely within the letter of the law.” 

You paused and stared at him. “Don’t you sell special K to high schoolers?” 

“That was once and I overcharged them.” Eddie said. “I save that for a different clientele.” 

For now. You thought. 

“So, what’s the illegal method you have to help me with my car?” you asked. 

Eddie took a deep breath and seemed to refuse to look at you. “We can hotwire it.”

“Hotwire... I’m sorry, what?” you looked at him surprised. “You know how to hotwire a car?” Had that been part of the show? You really wished that you had watched season four more than once over a year ago. It didn’t help that the longer you stayed here, the less you seemed to remember. You had your private box and notebook tucked away in your closet under a blanket, but you only pulled that out when you absolutely had to. Paranoia stopped you from reading everything too closely, and the idea of being caught with the things in that box... you shuddered to think about what would happen and how you’d explain yourself. 

Eddie didn’t say anything for a moment before he pulled a screwdriver from the toolbox. “It’s up to you. I can hotwire the car and teach you how to start it up like that, or you can call a tow and pay to have the key fixed.”

You thought about the options for a while, you were already eating ramen for most of your meals to pay for the car. The car clearly wasn’t worth more than the couple hundred you had paid for it, and you really were convinced that you’d overpaid for it. 

Fuck it. 

Eddie wasn’t gentle with the way he ripped open the dashboard and he started pointing out the different wires. You did stop him for a moment to grab a sheet of paper to write it down. Eddie insisted that after you’ve done it once, you wouldn’t need the cheat sheet, but you weren’t going to take any chances. 

“So.. how’d you learn to do this?” you asked as he rubbed two wires together, flicking them almost. You didn’t think he’d answer, but then the car suddenly rumbled to life and he actually smiled, looking proud of himself. 

“My dad.” Eddie explained. “We didn’t exactly have a traditional relationship growing up. Some kids got birthday parties and trips to the zoo, I got lessons on hotwiring cars and trips to the bar to learn cheap tricks for money. That only lasted until I was about ten when I stopped being small and cute.” 

“Shit.” you said, looking at him, trying to decide on how you’re supposed to respond to that lore that was just dropped on you. Eddie didn’t open up often, and this had to be a sign of trust, right? “...Want me to fight your dad?”

Eddie snorted at your question. “I bet my uncle would take you up on that.” he shook his head. “No reason to, I haven’t seen him in years. He’s probably in jail right now, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s been locked up.”

“Want me to break in and beat him up anyway?” you offered. “I’m sure I could figure it out.” 

“Your stealth rolls are shit.” he said. 

“You sound like Gareth. What I can or can’t do in D&D is completely different from what I could do in real life.” you said. 

“And how exactly do you plan on sneaking in to beat up my dad?” he asked, amusement in his eyes. 

“I’ll walk in, bat my eyelashes, and ask to visit him. Then when he’s in front of me I start swinging.” you punched your own hand for good measure. 

“I’m pretty sure you have to be a relative to visit someone in jail.” Eddie said. “And I’m not exactly itching to see him again, even if you decide to start a fight.”

“Okay, so my car is now on.” you said, on a roll now. “Hear me out, Eddie. You and I go to the courthouse right now and get married- I said hear me out, I’m not done-. I take your last name, use that to get into the prison to visit your dad, and then I can beat him up. I leave, we get divorced, we split with all of our own shit since we don’t have kids or shared property. Easy.”

Eddie rubbed his cheek as he laughed. “Bad idea, you’d be stuck with my last name. Munson doesn’t really get you anywhere in this town.”

“‘Lipton’ isn’t exactly doing me any favors either.” you pointed out. “Go big or go home, Eddie.”

“You are home.” he motioned to the trailer.

You weren’t, and you didn’t think you’d ever be again. 

“So, is that a no on marriage?” you asked, leaning close to him with your hand over your heart. You gave him your best pout. “I’m heartbroken.” 

“You were only going to marry me to get to my dad.” He gives you a playful shove away from him. 

“Yeah, but you’d be a bonus.” you said, blurting out the words without thinking. Ah, fuck, you weren’t supposed to be flirting. Flirting was a bad idea, a very very bad idea. You had made the decision a while ago that it was a bad idea. 

If he turned you down, it could be awkward and that could fuck up your chance to save him. If he dated you and it went badly that would make your chances worse. 

Focus on the mission, and not the way Eddie sounds when he laughs or how impossibly pretty his eyes are get your shit together and stop that-

“Nice to know you think I’m such a prize.” Eddie said casually, maybe a little too casually for how he usually talked. 

“When we divorce you can use that to fuel your music. I look forward to hearing the break-up album.” You tried to smooth your genuine flirting over by committing to the bit. 

“If I ever sell out, I’ll write our divorce album.” Eddie replied. “Until then, I’ll stick with singing about Hell and demons and references to my campaigns.” 

You don’t know why the idea of him writing songs about his campaigns made your stomach explode with butterflies, but it did. Maybe it was because you were now part of the campaigns and knowing that made you feel special. Like you were actually a part of something, part of him. 

Stop that. 

“Oh shit, I was actually doing something.” you realized and shook your head. “Right, I wasn’t just sitting here for fun. I had to go get groceries.” 

“That would explain why you were sitting in here when I found you.” Eddie agreed. “Do you... Want company?”

He wanted to go grocery shopping with you? That surprised you a lot. It almost felt domestic-

“Yeah, sure.” you agreed, pushing any other thoughts out of your head. “I need you to come anyway.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, you showed me how to start the car but you didn’t tell me how to turn it off.” 

Eddie laughed and hopped out of the car so that you could scoot back into the driver's seat. He hopped in next to you and it felt like things were swapped now. You had spent weeks in his passenger seat and now he was sitting in yours. 

If this was going to be a regular occurrence, you were tempted to slap a BABY ON BOARD sticker on the back of your car. 

As you pulled out of the trailer park, Eddie rummaged around his jacket and pulled out a cassette. 

“Radio’s broke.” you warned as he stuck the tape in and pushed play. To your surprise, music started playing through the speakers. 

“Tape player isn’t.” he said, looking proud of himself. “You can keep this one.”

“Keep...?” you asked. He’d loaned to tapes before, but that was always with the promise you’d return them. 

“Yeah, I already have all these songs.” Eddie fidgeted with one of his rings casually. “I thought you might need something to fill the silence. You know, since you’re always coming over to listen to music with me.”

You really did, the quiet of being home alone had been grating on you and you had been spending as much time as you could with Eddie at his place. 

“Is this your way of giving me a hint that I’ve overstayed my welcome?” you asked wryly, feeling a knot in your stomach at the thought. 

“No! No, not that.” Eddie said quickly. “No, uh... I just thought you’d like these songs. You told me you liked a few of them.”

“So... you made me a mixtape?” you asked, trying to remain calm despite the fact that your brain was screaming. 

“I had some time to kill, and you were complaining about not having anything to listen to so...” he shrugged. 

Maybe you’d ask him to marry you for real. You didn’t even had a tape player, or anything other than your car to listen to it but you didn’t care.

Next up, get a tape player for Emergency Vecna Use. And batteries. All the batteries. You added to the endless list of to-do’s to prepare you for Hawkins High’s Spring Break. 

“Thank you.” you said, feeling genuinely touched that he went out of his way to do that for you. “Really. I’ll listen to it until it disintegrates.” 

“I’ll make you a new one when that happens.” Eddie promised. 

Conversations drifted back into easy territory after that. Hellfire, dungeons and dragons, comics, work. It felt so easy talking to him in these moments when it was just the two of you. It had been so long since that first disastrous hang out session, but somehow he’d still let you keep hanging out. 

You wished that things could be different.

For now, you just decided to do what you did best when hanging out alone with him. You pretended that your ID was legitimate, that you were some vague relative of his drug supplier, and that you two could be normal friends, doing normal things. 

For now, that would have to be enough. 

Reader ==> Learn How to Hotwire a Car was submitted by my Green Heart Anon <3

So what would you like to see Reader do next?

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Dividers by @strangergraphics

[witchofthevale]

↷ september '23 fave fic recs!⋆☂｡☽˚.

Okay, okay here we go! This nearly killed me to make, so you better read them.

I'm kidding... I think.

Gentle reminder that what I consider 'fave' is by my own personal tastes and preferences, and you might not agree with them and that's okay! These are very lovely authors you can peruse on your own to find the right fic for you, and there are always the tags + algo. Just because your favourite fic isn't here doesn't mean it's not good; it could be potentially for a variety of reasons (I haven't read it yet, I have just not this month, I don't vibe with that character, etc).

That's what I love about the individuality in fandom and writers— there will always be that right fic from that right author that just hits all your good spots.

This is mine. For the month of September. If you find your next favourite fix here— I'm glad! If not, that's still swell! Hope you find it!

To the writers— thank you for writing such brilliant fics! I struggled setting this up because of how many I enjoyed 💝.

Anyways...

More quick reminders!

This is set chronologically; both by character name and by fic title.

If you are familiar with my blog, you will mainly see HOTD, some TLK, then random characters.

There may be smut! There may be dark fiction! I support and consume both! Please read trigger warnings actively! You are responsible for your own person! Community Labels ruin fandom ecosystems, stop snitching! Ignore or block at bloody will!

There are no series parts here. That is in a different display post that is still being processed lol.

If you see repeated author names, it can be numerous things— mostly, they're just that good, okay? Okay.

These are only for September 2023. I've read about 500+ on this account alone, and would die if I tried to go back before then, sorry. You can still check them out through tag navigation here!

I've also added some of my works that I enjoyed writing for the month, because why not.

Now that's fucking over, I hope you enjoy!

ABRAHAM (Grantchester)

*Untitled Piece by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

AEGON TARGARYEN II

Ceilings by @sapphire-writes

Lemon Cake To My Tea by @darlingofvalyria

Merciless or Ruthless? by @lovelykhaleesiii

Moan for Me by @st-eve-barnes

AEMOND TARGARYEN

A Mutual Feeling of Hate by @fan-goddess

Gelato by @oneeyedvisenya

Hell Hath No Fury @fromforeigntofamiliarity

His Love by @valeskafics

I'm A Fire, And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm by @randomdragonfires

Revolution by @valeskafics

The Black Stag by @darlingofvalyria

Til Death Do Us Part by @asumofwords

Unnerved by @dulcewrites

*Untitled by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

*Untitled by @missglaskin

Vulnerability by @valeskafics

ALDHELM

My Heart by @silens-oro

BILLY TAYLOR

The Perfect Send Off by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

BILLY WASHINGTON

Lonely This Christmas by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

DAEMON TARGARYEN

Ask, and You Shall Receive by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

A Thousand Words by @arabellasleopardcoat

Capital by @arabellasleopardcoat

Curse of Womanhood by @just-some-random-blogger

*Untitled by @barbiedragon

Valyrian Bride by @cryingforlife

HARALD SIGURDSSON

A Political Arrangement by @valeskafics

JACAERYS VELARYON

In Bastards of Blue, Wager in War by @darlingofvalyria

MAEGOR TARGARYEN

Little Lights by @dreamsofoldvalyria

OSFERTH

Lacnunga, Or, Remedy by @assortedseaglass

SIGTRYGGR IVARSSON

Little Warrior by @ewanmitchellcrumbs

SIHTRIC KJARTANSSON

Hours by @valeskafics

It's Urgent Darling by @sihtricfedaraaahvicius

Take No Wife by @valeskafics

TOM BENNETT

A Good Wife by @valeskafics

Rest by @fidelias

VISERYS TARGARYEN III

*Untitled by @barbiedragon

MULTIPLE CHARACTERS

Conquerors Reborn by @undertheorangetree | Helaena, Aemond x Reader

El Tango De Roxanne by @valeskafics | Jace, Aemond x Reader

Royalty Fucked by @oorhaellaoo | Baelon, Alyssa x Reader

[sundew199]

So I conducted my own experiment, not intentionally but I wanted to make a point, sort of.

So I’ve posted a couple of fluff pieces back to back and here are the notes over the past week or two, give or take: ⬇️

Now here is the smut piece I posted sometime the night before (has not even been 24 hrs): ⬇️

So to all the people who are still complaining about “hardly any fluff” in the x reader tags and smut tags, shut the fuck up. I’m serious, it’s so fucking annoying to get on here and see the same complaints when the solution is so obvious.

Next person I see ranting about no fluff in the tags is blocked, idc I’m tired of it. I’ve seen more writers post fluff since then, but if course engagement is low.

I personally don’t care about how many notes I get, because I know what I post won’t resonate with everyone and that’s fine. I write for myself, I write because I enjoy, but do you know how discouraging it is to some writers who are writing fluff after seeing the constant complaints and then getting next to no encouragement? It sucks, I know it does. And to be fucking honest the math isn’t mathing but I digress.

I’m not saying every fluff piece is going to resonate with everyone, but if you’re still complaining about the “lack of fluff” literally do yourself a favor and either go to a different app/website, request from an author you like or write it yourself.

And if you’re only complaining to complain, go to Twitter or smth because holy fuck this shit is so old.

I’m not saying you have like/interact with every fluff piece you come across but I know you know they’re there, you’re just choosing to ignore it and continue to complain because you like being miserable.

Only time all talk about this but I felt like I needed to make a point, anyway 😚

[hockeyandhrsepwr]

Surprise Homies!

Luke Hughes x college vlogger!reader

Sup Homies Masterlist

** I had this idea but wasn’t really sure how to write to so hopefully it makes sense & y’all like it**

"Okay boys, you ready? " You ask the guys as you finish setting up your camera. Nods come from all of them, so you hit record. You’re crouched in front of the camera blocking most of what’s behind you. 

"Sup homies & welcome back to the channel!! 

Todays video is going to be a bit different, but still fun!! I’ve had lots of people asking for a boyfriend tag, but I think those can get boring so we’re spicing it up. I have here some of our closest friends too, since we’re going to play a little game so without further ado, let’s get started.”

You step back & walk backwards towards the couch, where there’s a spot for you on the floor between Luke & Dylan. Ethan, Steve, Philippe & Jacob are on the sofa behind. As you sit down, the boys wave. Steves made a couple of appearances in the vlogs when the two of you are studying together, but none of the other boys have so they’re pretty excited. 

You plop down & Luke wraps his arm around your shoulder. 

“This is Luke, my lover. Boys, introduce yourselves.” Quickly they go around & say their names. 

“So, some of you many recognize these lovely lads, as they all play for Michigan’s hockey team. Steve here is the reason I met these lunatics, and you may recognize him as my study buddy as we go through engineering hell together” You stick your hand up for a fist bump, which you get before continuing “the rest of them just want to be in the vid for some clout.”

They protest “dont lie! Dylan asked me to put instagram handles in the vid. Anyway! They’ve all been playing since they were tiny, and today, we’re going to be testing their hockey knowledge. I’ve got 5 questions, of varying difficulty for them. They’ll have 10 seconds to write down their answers on these” you grab the mini whiteboards out of the bag in front of you and pass them around 

“Okay, lets got going!!

Question 1, and if you guys can’t get this there’s no hope for you here”

“Hold up, what do we win?” Ethan pipes up “The satisfaction of beating your teammates isn’t enough?” he shrugs, “I mean yeah”

“Anyway, question 1. 

Name one of the greats who had a fun nickname. "

“What the hell is considered a fun nickname “ Steve asks as he starts writing

"ehhhh. times up. flip!!"

L: CuJo

S: the dominator 

D: Super Mario baby

E: The great one

J: Sid the kid

P: Finnish Flash

“Ethan, thats basic, so no point. Steve, who the fuck is that, Luke, Phil, Jacob you all get a point. Duker gets a bonus for being the only one to put Super Mario which is the best nickname, no question.”

“Dude, Dominik Hasek!” Steve says “oh okay, never heard him called that but” you pull up your phone “google says that was his nickname so you get a point. Moving on”

“Question 2, name Two teams to win back to back Stanley Cups at any point. Go” The boys are writing as you count down. “Done! Flip them” 

L: Tampa bay & Islanders

S: Red Wings & Tampa

D: Pittsburg, Montreal

E: Oilers, Canadiens 

J: Detroit & Toronto

P: Canadiens & Lightning

“Okay points for all good job boys. Next question, numba three!!

Give me 2 teams located in State, or provincial before you get your panties in a twist Ethan, capital.”

“Bruh I dont know geography!” Dylan complains. “Well, that sucks for you then”

“I though this was going to be stats or something!”

“So if I asked you to list the top scorers in NHL history you would get it?”

“Yeah probably!”

“That sucks for you then since I’m asking the questions. Go”

Dylans muttering to himself going “is that a capital” as the timer ticks down

L:  Rangers & Preds

S:  Avs (Denver) & Blue Jackets (Columbus)

D: Columbus & Boston??

E: Edmonton & Toronto 

J: Red Wings (duh)  hurricanes (hopefully)

P: Detroit & Boston

“Luke, you’re wrong no points!”

“Hang on, NYC isn’t the capital?”

“Dude even I know that & I’m Canadian”

“Jacob & Steve, you both get bonus points for actually putting teams, not just cities. Clearly the rest of the boys can’t listen” 

“Duker, good job you bullshitted your way through that”

“Thats my talent babe” he winks at the camera

“Question 4, What is the dumbest penalty that a team can get? “

“Is there a right answer here?” Jacob asks

“Yes, There is a correct answer, And if you don’t know this, clearly you don’t pay attention when we watch hockey together”

“Oh thats easy” Luke & Duke both say before writing 

“Time!! Flip.”

L: Too many men - can y’all not count or something (direct quote)

S: Too many men

D: Too many “idiots on the ice” 

E: Too many sticks? idfk

J: yelling at the ref (abuse of officials)

P: Too many men?

“Wow Jacob & Ethan, wow. I see how it is.”

“You know we’re normally playing when youre watching hockey right?” Jacob says in protest. 

“Well the others got it right so stop being a sore loser. The rest of you all get points. And get your shit together guys. Lukey, bonus point for the quote”

“Its not hard, you say it every time.”

“And yet, you idiots still get the penalty!! Think of poor Adam who had his hatty taken away the other weekend because you guys can’t count!”

“Okay lets move on. We’ve heard the rant before” Steve butts in before you can get too heated. 

You stick your tongue out at him but continue

“Final question, and you can get a lot of points here. There have been lots of brotherly duos that have played in the NHL” The boys immediately start protesting & talking over each other.

“Seriously?”

“Pretty sure this is blatant favouritsim”

“Oh Hell no” 

Putting your fingers in your mouth you whistle to get their attention. 

“Can I finish? Thank you. Now, there have been many brotherly duos play in the NHL. Name one duo where at least one of them has played at least one game this season. More obscure means more points, for a max of ten, so for example if you were to say a certain Canuck & his annoying brother, that’s easy as fuck so half a point. Since this requires some more brainpower, I’ll give you 20 seconds. Go”

“What if we dont know both their names?” “You’ll still get the points if you give one as long as it fits the criteria”

“Bro what the fuck?” 

“Who the hell” 

You sit there laughing at them as they try & come up with more obscure duos than the others. After 30 seconds, times up. 

“Flip em boys”

L: Mikey & Ryan Mcleod (Go Devs!!)

S: P sure Adrian Kempe had a brother 

D: Foudy Bros (CBJ!)

E: Willy & Alex Nylander

J: Reinhart (??)

P: Kevin Hayes

“Okay, honestly I dont know off the top of my head so imma google.”

“So Luke, you’re good, 2 points.  Dylan also good, three points .”

“Hey!” Luke protest 

“Shut it. Your brother plays with one of them so its not worth as much.”

“Ethan’s secretly a Leafs fan confirmed. Also 3 points”

“Philippe & Steven. One of your boys have played this season so 5 points for more obscure”

“But Jacob, I’m impressed. Even though you weren’t sure, you not only got 2 brothers, you’ve got 3!! And only one of them has played this year, Mr Sam Reinhart. I would’ve given you more if you had at least one first name, so 7 points for you!! Be more confident in your answer next time”

“Woah woah woah 7?!” Steve says

“What would it have taken to get ten?” Phil muses

“My game, my rules. Okay!” You clap your hands “Time to see who our winner is.”

You’ve got the scores on the whiteboard in front of you, just have to tally them up

“Alright, so here’s our final ranking

On the bottom  Ethan with 5 points. You did terrible. 

Not much better, we have Luke next with 6. What the hell babe, thats embarrassing for you.

Dylan in fourth with 7. Philippe with 9, 

Stevn has 10

And our winner, Jacob! With 11 points!! 

“WHOOOO!!”

“Can I just say, they’ve been alive longer than us so obviously they’d do better” 

“Ethan age has literally nothing to do with this. You just suck.” Jacob says

You stand up and talk to the camera

“Before this ends up in an argument or wrestling on the floor, Thanks for watching everyone! If you want to see more with these lovable idiots, check out the UMich hockey social media accounts. Maybe they’ll make some vlog appearances too! 

Love all you homies, see you in the next video!!

Luke pulls you down into his lap and you smile up at him while the boys argue, as your outro music plays in the video. 

Arms wrap around your shoulder and Luke presses a kiss to your neck. “Done babe?”

Smiling, you lean back in your desk chair & tip your head back for a kiss. “Just about”

“Hurry up I want cuddles” he whines. 

You giggle as you turn back to your laptop, double checking the title & thumbnail before scheduling the video to go live in place of your usual Sunday vlog. Hitting upload, you close you computer & join Luke on your bed.

“All done” you whisper before kissing him. He palms your ass, pulling you closer & says “good” before hungrily kissing you. You ignore the rest of your responsibilities to lay there together and cuddle, knowing your time like this is coming to an end soon. 

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| One Last Try ||

Matt Murdock x gn!reader

Tags/warnings: Angst! Jealousy! Mild smut 🫢 OMG WHAT ABOUT THAT ENDING.

Inspired by One Last Try by Howard Jones. Please have a listen to it, what an absolute tune.

I love making Matt sad 🥹

As you opened the bathroom door once you had finished your nightly routine, you felt it push back with a draft as if a window was open somewhere in your apartment. Your suspicions were confirmed when you entered the bedroom, a soft breeze wafting the curtain away from the sill.

Matt is sitting on the edge of your bed, all in black.

You sigh wearily, throwing your damp towel into the laundry basket in the corner.

"What are you doing here, Matt?"

"I miss you." He gets to his feet, moving towards you then halting suddenly as you back away from him. You know if he gets too close, if he touches you, if you even catch his comforting scent you're done for, and you weren't willing to go through that pain a second time. You were moving on.

"That's not an answer."

He looks up towards you. "I can do it, I can do what you asked." He says in reply. "I'll be there for you, just-"

"We've been over this Matt," You cut him off before he's able to catch the hook in you, reel you back in with tempting promises you know he can't keep. Deep down inside he knows he can't keep them either. "...so many times."

"Please, just one more try, just give me that. I'll show you, I swear, I can be what you need and still be Daredevil-"

You're already shaking your head knowing full well he can tell. "Matt..."

He steps closer, hands held out low and open, "please, we can make it work," he's imploring, begging even. "One last try." You didn't even notice how he'd gotten so close to you, how you're leaning into the tips of his calloused half-gloved fingers as they brush the side of your face. "Just one."

"I love you." It comes on a whispered breath. "I want to be better, you deserve better." He's kissing you on the cheek. You didn't say no. You should have told him no but you're already in his arms and you can't fight him like this, not when he's holding you so softly like you're a glass he's trying not to break and his lips are trailing along your jaw toward your own.

"Matt-"

It's too late.

"Sweetheart…"

He's spearing you through the ragged hole in your heart, reopening the ugly scarred-over wound that you had started to heal, he's pulling you back out of the calm water and into the blazing inferno.

With his sensitive ears he hears it as forgiveness, as home. You've let him come in, come home.

"God, Matt-"

You're underneath him now, it happens so fast, so easily. Too easily. When did you lose your pajamas in a heap on the floor?

Fuck, he knows you, knows your body, knows exactly how to touch and where to make you lose all sense and rationality again. You can't say no now, despite everything your lips are only able to form his name. It's been so many months but it's cloaked in a quiet moan, a clipped whimper, an ephemeral desperate plea…

Fingers intertwine above your heads and your body undulates in a slow wave as you take him inside of you. You didn't want to miss him this way, the physicality of the two of you together, the way your bodies innately cry out for one another after being apart for so long.

"Angel," He's missed you too. Even if he hadn't laid out all the 'sorry's and 'it'll be different's at your feet earlier you'd still recognise the guilt, desperation, and the love in the entirety of the way he makes love to you.

I love you, Matt repeats, over and over as if it's his only weapon in this battle. But you don't block or parry. You let it slice right through you and don't feel anything.

His head tilts to the side as your phone chimes for a second time.

"It's him, isn't it?"

He had to have picked up the other man's scent as soon as he broke into your room, even long before that. You didn't know why he left it so long to admit it. Or maybe you did.

You gather up the bedsheet, wrapping it around your body as you edge to sit up near the nightstand.

"You should go, Matt."

"He– he's not good for you. He doesn't care about you the way I do."

You shake your head. "You're right. He doesn't. He comes home to me every night. He lets me know where he is, what he's doing. He doesn't break promises."

You try your hardest not to snap the last part but Matt closes his eyes, biting back his jealous nature as he finds his clothes and puts them back on.

"Frank gives me something you can never, and I can live with that. Can you?"

You watch him as he places the black mask over his head and walks over to the window, sliding the sash up.

"Guess we'll find out."

[doll3t3xo]

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 ཐི♡ཋྀ

ᡣ𐭩 By interacting with my posts, you have agreed to follow my rules, the dni criteria, and the writing rules below

ᡣ𐭩 Any of these rules may change overtime for my comfort

ᡣ𐭩 What fandoms I write for: Jujutsu Kaisen, One Piece, and Demon Slayers

ᡣ𐭩 What characters I romantically write for: Gojo, Geto, Choso, Sukuna + Mihawk, Shanks, Aokiji, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Trafalgar Law, Ace, Lucci, Kaku + Hantengu’s clones (Zohakuten is excluded), & Kyojuro Rengoku

ᡣ𐭩 Things I do write:

Dark content (ex: yandere, killing, stalking, perverted behavior, etc), not spoiler free, nsfw, sfw, hurt + comfort, potential tws comfort, fluff, smut, angst, longfic, oneshot, headcannons, AUs, character(s) x gn! or f!reader only, poly relationship (only apply for satosugu and hantengu clones), preferably sub! reader, hybrid

ᡣ𐭩 Kinks I would write:

Bdsm, throat fucking, gagging, bulging, size kink, face sitting/fucking, hair pulling, praise kink, degradation, humiliation, choking, slapping, breastfeeding/lactation, orgasm denial, voyeurism, daddy kink, thigh riding, sex toys, double penetration, squirting, slut-shaming, edging, overstimulation, age gap, cumming inside, finger fucking, (mutual) masturbation, filming, lingerie, dumbification, corruption, dacryphilia, somnophilia

ᡣ𐭩 Things I do not write:

Extremely specific “reader”, character x oc, character x character, male! reader, rape, incest, age up, substances (ex: cocaine), weed, necrophilia, scat, piss, vodmit, watersports, omegaverse (I am not used to that yet, hybrid! character or reader is allowed), dom! reader (once again, not used to that, I’ll try) & anything that goes against my dni criteria

ᡣ𐭩 More info:

ᡣ𐭩 My writing will be tag accordingly, check my tags to see if you want to filter out any writings you don’t want to see

ᡣ𐭩 Tws and kinks will be listed at the beginning of the fic

ᡣ𐭩 I’m asian, if you request (different race)! reader, know that I may make mistakes, please educate me

ᡣ𐭩 I’m about average female height and I have a small frame body, pale skin and straight hair, so stuff I write might have details that fit those (ex: reader’s height)

ᡣ𐭩 know that I do make mistakes, if I accidentally missed a tage/tw or put wrong tag/tw, please let me know asap, I will fix it when I see the comment, don’t spam it

ᡣ𐭩 you may not copy the layout, theme of my writing or repost, translate, copy + plagiarized it

ᡣ𐭩 How my ask works:

A) “Request close! (#)” — Not open for requests requests at that moment, () will tell you how many requests I need to complete first.

ᡣ𐭩 Please only request writing in my ask. If it is not open for request, you can still send a comment, suggestions, or talk to me!

B) “Request open! [fandom] (#)” — Open for request, [] will tell what fandoms I’m willing to do request for, () will tell how many requests I need to complete first.

ᡣ𐭩 I don’t know how to explain it but I would like to only write for the fandom that I’m mostly interested in at that moment

ᡣ𐭩 Please do not spam your request, I will just block you

ᡣ𐭩 Know that I’m a very slow writer, please do not rush me or ask constantly when will it be done

ᡣ𐭩 If your request have taken really long to get answered…

1. Most likely I deleted it because it did not follow the rules or

2. I do not feel that I can write with that prompt

3. “Work in progress…” — you might want to check my “welcome” or my masterlist to see any writings that I’m work on, they take a while to complete

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓…

ᡣ𐭩 Please read my 𝑫𝑵𝑰 and 𝑹𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

ᡣ𐭩 𝑨𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑴𝒆 ᡣ𐭩 𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 ᡣ𐭩 𝑴.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ᡣ𐭩 𝑨𝒔𝒌 𝑴𝒆 ᡣ𐭩 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔

© doll3t3xo — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Do not repost, translate, copy, plagiarized or claim my work and layout as your own!

Credits to hitobaby for the dividers

[actual-changeling]

hi, please feel free to ignore this, i would understand if you were tired of the whole pen thing, but i have a question about her suicide fic. i read it and it was ok, nothing special, but i also see nothing wrong with it? i'm aware i might just be ignorant on the subject (i never had that problem), but i would like to understand why it is offensive and bad representation?

Hi anon! I feel like you're genuinely asking so I will answer your question, though probably not in the way you expected. Once again, discourse is tagged, everyone feel free to block it. This response might get a bit personal so keep that in mind.

I'm as tired of this topic as everyone else, but I also do not want anyone to feel left behind if that makes sense. If there is something I can help with, I want to do so (as long as I feel like the question is coming from a genuine place, if not it will be deleted without comment).

CW for discussions of triggers and mentions of suicidality.

I wish I could tell you exactly which aspects of it are the problem and why, but I have not read it and I cannot read it.

I came across one of her posts and excerpts from it completely by accident, there was no warning in front of it, no read more, nothing. My brain reads very quickly and was half-way through the post before I realized what exactly I was reading, and unfortunately that was already enough to trigger me.

I wanna reiterate for people that aren't too knowledgeable on the subject or have gotten a lot of wrong information from social media that a trigger does not just mean "it makes me uncomfortable". The reaction is connected to my trauma and experiences with the topic at hand, I was going through emotional flashbacks that left me almost hyperventilating, shaking, and unable to calm down for several hours. All because of the way she wrote about suicidality. I am not easily triggered like this, I am in therapy, I have meds, I have unhealthy self-control. The fact that it affected me the way it did speaks volumes.

So no, I cannot read her fic and I won't read it, but I do not have to. I have seen more than enough to confidently say that the way she handled this is not okay, it is not safe for people to read, she is being incredibly irresponsible in how she talks about it on her blog, and I really hope that no one who is in a tough spot comes across it and gets triggered the way I did.

If someone reads it and sees no problem with it - good for you, and I don't mean that sarcastically. But I know that there are people that will read it and get, for a lack of better words, fucked up. I asked several of my friends about it and just giving vague descriptions of what I had read was enough to make them agree that, yes, this is not how you handle this topic.

The LEAST you can do is tag it properly and with as many different warnings that apply as possible. The LEAST you can do is leave a note saying "this is in part inaccurate and triggering in x way".

But then again, the absolute bare minimum would be to listen to people when they tell you when something you write is unsafe and offensive and then not write it that way. I think we all know at this point that no matter how many different fics and people go through this exact same experiences over and over again, she does not care about her readers and she won't listen. It's sad and it's embarrassing, and once again, I really really hope no one gets seriously hurt by this.

I will add the same disclaimer I added on my other post: If you quote me just to twist my words and misinterpret what I said, I hope you are ashamed of yourself. If you need clarification just ask me, it's that simple.

[slushiesandshowtunesat3am]

The new writers coming in (and it happens in all fandoms) and full offense are very lazy or incompetent or both. They don’t even try to look up the How-To’s and the what not to-do’s. Just the freaking basics. The amount that don’t even know the difference between “person x reader” and “person x OC” is literally Basics 101. The reader is supposed to be all inclusive (unless stated female reader/male reader/GN reader, etc.). If I can’t imagine myself or any other stranger you’re doing “reader” fics wrong.

And don’t even get me started on those that say “Sorry lots of error and mistakes.” WHY POST THEN?! Or when people tag everyone and their fucking dead great great great great 100 removed grandmother not just the specific person they are writing for just to get more audiences. I know so many people who straight up block people instead of giving the writer a chance because they do stuff like this (myself included). They’re basically alienating themselves and missing out on so much engagement and then they complain how no one reads their stuff or reblogs.

I always recommend people to get BETA readers, if possible. To help be “editors”. I know this is just the internet and no one is a real author (that we know of) but for fucks sake at least try. Even just to show respect for yourself. Also we’ve seen so many become actual authors and make bank off this (even though I don’t think some of them deserve it but good for them).

It’s getting hard and harder weeding out the trash to find good to decent stuff.

This baby omfg. Don't get me wrong, we know how lucky we are that writers come on here for free and allow us to absorb their work. There are so many beautiful pieces on here. But as someone who has been reading Tumblr fanfics for a while, I have visibly seen the quality decline. Grammar, inclusiveness, creativity, and respect for the space overall....just wow.