#like her body was kept alive with food and water

[seaf00d-hater]

It was horrid being in that clan. Having all your things stolen and taken from you all the time. Food, water, shelter, toys, even your own life. even if it wasn't necessary it would be taken in a heartbeat if you weren't strong enough. when the clan invaded, aryas home was stolen and destroyed, her grandmother and father perished leaving arya and her mother to be next. The head of the clan wanted her mom giving her the choice of killing arya and taking her or taking the both of them if she was willing to follow them which is what she chose.

Soon the head married aryas mother and made her bare Child after child after child all dying of hunger or neglect. Arya tried her damndest to feed them to help them but she was just as helpless. As arya grew older she stopped growing and her siblings just kept dying. the second of starvation, the third of sickness, the fourth killed, the fith and sixth starvation, and I couldn't even see the birth of the seventh when they ousted her from the clan.

Aryas mom was too weak and heavily pregnant to fight for her. She was beaten and left behind to die but somehow it felt numb to her. She was able to walk but her throat couldn't make sound, she was still alive so she started to learn how to survive in the wild. Knowing her mom was still in there in that clan, suffering, she could not just leave her behind so she followed the clan from a distance. It was hard to live, it was hard to learn how to survive in the wild in darkwood, in anura, in anchordeep, and especially in silkcradle. But in time she learned how to heal myself, how to harvest, how to use traps to my advantage and most importantly how to fight and hide, learning to burn her own arms in order to keep the growing wool to a minimum.

And as the years went by the body's left by the clan kept coming, and she knew some of them were her brothers and sisters. The eight of starvation, the ninth of sickness, the tenth murder, the eleventh and twelfth of starvation, it was happening all over again but this time arya couldn't even sing them to sleep.

And finally the body that produced all her siblings came. Her nightmare came to be. Her poor mother being to weak to birth the thirteenth was dying and was left behind. She was relieved To see me for the last time and told arya of her last wish. “Eat me. Gain strength to survive. You must survive. And if you can, you must avenge me. For what they did to you, to all your brothers and sisters and for what they did to their own kind. Eat me”

So she did. She ate her alive and continued when she died. She did not eat her womb. Arya buried it just like the other siblings I had when they all died. This was a nightmare, and the only way to wake up from it was to kill it. To kill them all.

~~~~~

Soooo this is the back story of arya :) I also did finally manage to design narinder and all the bishops with aym and baal so you'll be seeing more art from me!

I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT AGAIN IM NEW HERE IM LEARNING SO IF SOMETHING IS AMISS PLEASE TELL ME I WILL TRY TO CORRECT MY ACTIONS

Also more context: the clan is actually a pillaging clan made of sheep that do raides on any other town or village that aren't them and believe the whole the strongest will survive which both arya and her mom suffered from the most arya in the first image being 7 years old and in the last around 15 to 16 years old

FUCK I FORGOT TO @teruuu sorry bbg

[rakkikuroba]

I loooove how the supersmart supercomputer AI didn’t think that maybe Chell isn’t brain damaged because of the sleeping period but because she ingested for 5 minutes deadly neurotoxins which would cause lifelong sequelea?

[fandomtherapy44]

Congrats you're a dad! Dean x reader one shot!

Summary: Dean Winchester the man who came and went that seemed like in a blink of an eye. But he left some thing behind your Daughter.

Paring: Dean x reader

word count: 2.4k

Divider from

Firefly Graphics

Reblog Banner and 18+ Banner From

cafekitsune

Warnings: swearing, MILD SMUT, Feelings all around

AN/ So I got very inspired by seeing posts of how Dean deserved to be a dad! Here is my story of that and this would take place after season 15 so he is alive and happy! Hope you enjoy!

Six Years since I last saw Dean Winchester, the man that came and left in an blink of an eye. The charming yet somewhat earnest type that I always fell for helped that he was hot as hell. Those crystal green eyes, white prince smile, glitter freckle kissed skin that almost made you believe in miracles. I was the waitress at the restaurant where he and his partner went every night while they were in town trying to find a missing person and thankfully they did but with that came a goodbye. But he did leave me with something, not an std but our daughter.

I wanted to tell him so many times but how was I supposed to tell this barely a familiar hook up that he had a kid. When he left he told me that he liked me and maybe if he was staying around we could try something but he wasn't. I found out I was pregnant with Bella two weeks later. So was I really going to tell a guy I didn't even really know that he was a dad and potentially ruin his career and break my heart if he told me to screw off. The answer was no.

So here I was six years later with the best little girl in the world and trying my best. “Hey mom could you please pick Bella up? I have to pick up this shift.” I was balancing my phone between my shoulder and ear while my hands were full of plates of food while I was widing through the sticky tables. “Of course sweetie I'll see you at eight.” My mom has been my biggest supporter since the day I was pregnant.”Ok thank you so much love you bye oh and don’t let her eat so much ice cream again she threw up all over the couch last time.” “I'm her grandma, I'm supposed to spoil her.” “Bye Mom.” I said in a loving jokey way. 

It was almost seven thirty when I was walking up to my table and had just gotten satten. I was carrying two glasses of water to the table when I heard a voice that I thought I would never hear again. “Oh Hey Y/n right? You're still working here, that's cool.” I look up and drop the water. It was Dean fucking Winchester. “Whoa you okay?” he swooped down to help pick up the pieces of now broken glasses. I can’t even look at him. “Hey Y/n” He grabbed my hand I didn’t realize but it was bleeding. “Are you okay?” I barely get a word out. “Hey can I get a towel or bandaid please!?”

He called out and a co-worker ran over. “Is she okay?” “Dean, I'm fine.” My friend’s eyes widened knowing that name. “Uh, why don't you take a break? I'll bring more waters” I begged with my body for her to stay but she ignored me knowing that was not her place. We sat down in the booth. I kept staring at my bloody hand hoping it was a terrible nightmare but then he spoke again.

“I know it's been a while since I've been here but I swear that I had good reason to. I had to take care of something that took longer than expected. I wanted to come back. I've missed this place, you.” My heart flutters a little. “It’s okay not like you had something to come back to.” I know that’s a little harsh but I was trying to drive him away as quickly as possible. “Well you're here and I don’t know about you but I had an amazing time when I was last here.”

My head flashed back to that night the last night he was here we were together for hours in the sheets. It wasn't just sex but we talked about our hopes and dreams. Maybe that's why I wanted to talk to him a little longer. “I guess you're right it wasn’t half bad.” I smirked. “Half Bad? Excuse me but I believe you were the one begging for more-” Before he can go on I kick him. “Fine, you were great, happy.”

“Very happy, hey did you ever go to college for acting.” what? He remembered my dream not even boyfriends who had been with me for a long time remembered that. “I can't believe you still know that.” “How could I forget, your face lit up talking about it every time.” We both smiled thinking about those times. But the air froze when we heard another voice. “Mommy! I can’t wait to show you my drawing!” Bella ran over and jumped in my lap. I looked at the clock and it was eight fifteen, shit.

“Oh, baby I'm sure it's so beautiful I'll look at home okay.” “But Mommy!” I started to try to get up but being a six year old she was dragging her feet. “But Momma!” “Bella! Let's go!” I hated it when my yelling voice came out. I finally looked at Dean and he looked like he had been slapped in the face. “Hey mister, would you like to see?” She asked Dean kindly like I had taught her. “Bella he's busy-” “I would love to.” She pulled out a picture and it was a drawing of a family.

“You see that's me and mommy and that's grandma.” He nods looking out the picture. “It's really good, Hey do you have a daddy Bella?” He asked the question I had been fearing. “No, I don’t.” She answered so quickly and without thought it broke my heart. “And how old are you Bella?” “I’m this many” She holds up six fingers. Dean just sits there thinking. “Bella, could you go back to your grandma?” She seems sad. “You can get ice cream!” I tried. Of course, she jumps up and runs to the counter. I sit back down at the booth sighing. “Dean I-” he holds up his hand with tears in his eyes. “I just have one question. Is she my daughter?” “Yes.”

It had been at least twenty minutes. I broke the ice. “Dean, I don't even know where to start.” “How about you start why you kept my fucking child away from me?” He was mad of course who wouldn't be. “Dean you have to understand why I did it, I didn't tell you because I knew what kind of job you had and that you couldn't just drop everything. I mean you told me you couldn't stay.” “You don't think my kid would change that!?” I had tears building up.

“I didn't know you Dean, I didn't want a guy to tell me to screw off that I was just starting to really like and that I knew you just couldn't stay.” He’s silent again. “I want to know her.” I'm a little shocked. “Dean I know it was fucked up of me to keep this from you but you can't just go away because of a job or something that needs you for weeks I won't allow Bella to be hurt like that.” He did not hesitant “I won’t.” 

And from there on out it was kind of nice. We had set up a system where Bella could spend time with Dean so we didn't freak her out when we told her. I could really see both of them loving each other. I met his brother and he was very surprised to hear he had a niece. Bella loved spending time with both of them. It had been a couple of months. The more time we all spent together the more my heart became comfortable with Dean around, that’s what terrified me.

We were eating Chinese food with Bella and for the first time I felt like we had a family but then his damn phone rang. He checked the name and I saw his face fall a little from his previous smile but he was keeping it together for us. “Uh hey, what’s up?” I couldn't hear everything but I did hear the level of the voice and it was not calm.

“Yeah, I'll be there.” He responded back. He hangs up and looks at me. “Dean no no you promised-” “I know I did and trust me I don’t want to go but I have to. This friend needs me.” We need you, I need you but of course, I didn't say that out loud. He gets up to get his things and bends down to Bella’s level. “Hey Bells, I'll be back in a little.” She clearly doesn't want him to go. “But we were going to play barbies after dinner.” She whined in true six-year-old fashion.

“I know and promise as soon as I get back we will and I'll bring back a new Barbie friend how about that.” She leaps in his arms. “Yay! Thank you, Dean, I love you.” Dean and I both got stiff at that it was the first I love you between them. He squeezes her harder at that. “I love you too Bella.” He lets go and goes to the front door and I follow.

“How long are you going to be gone?” “I honestly don't know Y/n I wished I did.” At that, I got angry he fucking promised. “Dean, what kind of Job do you have that you don’t know when you'll be home!?” He put his hands on the sides of my face. “I will tell you everything when I get home.” He saw my uneasy face. He leans down I think for a kiss but not where I was expecting. It was my forehead, a slow caring one. “You have no idea what you guys mean to me. I will come back and explain everything.” With that, he leaves.

I put Bella to bed hours ago and it was five in the morning but I couldn't go to bed not knowing he was safe. Finally, the door creaks open but very quietly. It was Dean but he looked like he walked through Hell. “Hey, what are you still doing up?” I sip my coffee not really having the anger anymore but being replaced with worry. That’s when I knew I was in deep shit I was falling in love with Dean Winchester. “I couldn't sleep not knowing you were safe.” There is just silence between us. I look up and can't hold back anymore and run into his safe arms. We are like this for like two minutes. “I think it’s time I tell you what I really did, you might want to sit down for this.” 

“So you're saying everything I've ever told Bella was fake is real.” “Yes” “And God, Angels, the Devil, Demons, are real.” “Yup and actually an Angel is one of my best friends.” I gulp the rest of my coffee down, maybe thinking this was a dream and I would wake but no this was real. “Okay, I somehow believe you.” “Really some people call Sam and me crazy when we have to tell them.” “Well, I know both you and Sam and you're not liars.” “Thank you.” “No problem.” I break the ice once more. “So that’s why you had to leave to help someone.”

“Yeah, an old friend was going to a vamp nest.” He looked down at my confused face. “Sorry, I'll explain all the monster lore another time.” “A vamp nest sounds dangerous Dean.” “it is.” I let out what I was thinking the whole night. “Dean I don't want to tell you what to do but you can't just go out anymore like that not when you have a kid now and not when I- '' I was stopped by his lips on mine and it was like nothing changed. We let go.

“I'm sorry if I was reading that wrong Y/n but I care about you too and Bella and thank Chuck every day that he gave me you too.” “Chuck?” He chuckles. “More lore but this is way more important.” He gripped my hips and pulled me forward like he did six years ago. “Wait Dean before we go further even though I would love to relive how we made Bella I need to know this is a hundred percent real and this isn't another in-the-moment type thing.” He kisses me deeply again. “I'm a thousand percent for you and our family.” Our family I never thought I would hear those words and that did me in.

SMUT .................................................................................................................

I pull him in and kiss him again but this time put some real feeling in it. He slips his tongue in like it was natural. “Mhh Dean.” “Would you like to move this to the bed?” I jump up and he catches me. “Yes sir.” He walks me to my bedroom and kicks the door open and lays me down. He gets on top and starts to kiss down my neck. “Lets see, I think this is where your special spot is right?” He sucks down on my pressure point and I mewl with pleasure.

“Ding ding ding we have a winner.” He said slyly. “Dean, please no teasing, it's been six years.”  “Aww darling did I get you all worked up.” “Dean fucking Win-” He goes down to my thighs and starts to pull off my shorts and underwear. “You already soaked baby is this all for me?” He starts to rub his finger up and down my slit. I barely answer. “Uh-huh.” “That’s it baby just feel me.” he puts his finger in my pussy. “AHH DEAN!” I grip his wrist.

“Shh, you don't want to wake Bells.” “Oh, you motherfucker!” He goes faster and faster. “Are you almost there?” “Yes!” He speeds all the way up. “Okay let go.” And I came all over his fingers. “Ahh, I missed that.” “You son of a-” I laughed and dragged him into another kiss. It was starting to get heavy again and he was unbuckling quickly. “Are you sure about this?” he asked earnestly. “A thousand percent.” He smiled his goofy smile and went on. But something stopped the both of us. “Mommy moma!” I look down at his tent. “I'll go but we'll continue this later.'' I leave him with a lingering kiss and him thinking he is the luckiest guy in the world.

There's a second part now: Trick or Treat with smut!

[andieperrie18]

Watching her fall in love

A/n: DISCLAIMER, I just wanna clear out that I HATE Mikio, OR LOATHE him. The man died too quickly for my liking. But I am currently at an emotional but productive mode in my Mizu x Reader fanfic. I needed to vent some writing. I just needed to write somethings to hurt myself, so now I would like to share my pain. I kept this one vague but clear cause certain parts would likely be in the fanfic. So please bear with its corniness and i do hope you enjoy and share some thoughts at the comment section how to make Mikio's suffering a bit more satisfying

Pairing: Mizu x Reader

Series: Blue Eye Samurai

You know she deserves to be happy. There was no reason for her to continue her vengeance now that her mother was actually alive and now has been encouraging Mizu to leave your debt and settle down with the man her mother had found that will surely provide for her.

Not that Mizu was not cared for in your home, with a small dowry left by your deceased father and the a simple home on a piece of land from your husband who worked tirelessly to own for your future before circumstances decided to rob you of the life that you could’ve had with him let alone have a child of your own.

After coming to terms with things, you swear to never love any other man than your husband. But the tides of fate didn’t really like that.

You were on your way home when you found a wounded Mizu on your way. Lucky enough, your place was near when she came stumbling in your arms clutching her bleeding side. In your home, you treated her, fed her and provided her all the necessary things to hasten her recovery despite her constant attempts to deny any more further gestures.

Your persistence rivaled hers and she can’t really do anything than just accept it if she wants to continue her quest for revenge. But she days go by and she can finally function properly, the closer she has become to you. Of course you already knew that she was a woman, tending to her wounds did require you to have her lay bare before you while under unconsciousness. But her eyes, a part of  her body that she has come to hate as it was the most visible defect of how she is immediately considered as a monster. You were no stranger to being cast aside so you know how to provide her the right words and comfort.

From that point on, she’s been your constant company either at your small plantation or someone to share food on the dining table. With her harsh childhood and upbringing, Mizu’s cold exterior was very hard but once you do reach her,  she is as gentle as a spring water bathing you in in cold warmth under a harsh sun.

“You know that I’ll leave as soon as I reach recovery,” she said with a frown as she sat across from you from the entryway. The evening was  young but the skies were burned by a millions suns from eons away and the full moon lingering among them. You looked at her as she did as well, there was a hint of sadness in her icy blue eyes.

“I know, and I will not force you to stay, if this path is what you need to find peace at the end of your road, then do so. Just know that when you’re ready  to find your peace, my doors are open to your company,” you offered a smile, one that she did return. One that had you marveling at it all throughout the night.

You haven't come to terms with your feelings with Mizu for quite a while and believed that you really cared for platonically. She has found a great friendship with you and you to her.

As a ‘friend’, you were lucky enough to be there at the small ceremony. Mikio didn’t want anything to do with her and denied any act of consummating their union. But Mizu didn’t worry much as you have provided a great company. Cracks to your resolve showed when you had succeeded to provide Mizu an opportunity to create connection with her husband. You had encouraged her to try approaching the man and keep in mind how persistent he is with that one particular horse he has been taming for days in your observation. Soon, Mizu was having a small conversation with Mikio while you watched.

Watching Mizu’s rough demeanor crumble so easily in his presence was infuriating, an emotion you quick to shut out. Guilt tripping was made easier upon having small conversations with Mizu’s mother who Thanked you for being there for Mizu and helping her create a relationship with Mikio. 

“Now that she’s out of your hair, you can finally find a husband as well, your still you my dear,” Mizu’s mother trails, but your attention was on the couple emerging from the green hills riding a horse along the orange horizon. Your eyes on Mizu, laughing, so free. An expression you never once got from her.

The final realization of your love for her was followed by a tsunami of heartbreak as you watched her capture her husbands lips in a kiss by a big tree that you came passing by. You watch her submit to his touch, lifting her legs off the ground and press tender kisses on her neck. You hid by a tree, back against it. You stare up the orange skies as you feel every thing inside you tear itself apart.

A/n: I Just needed to feel pain.

[weirdfangirly]

Fatherless ─⊹⊱ ☆ ⊰⊹─

Dark-Fiction Central ©️

Dark!Joel x Reader

Summery: You offer yourself to a complete stranger in order to survive.

⚠️ : dark content. Dub-con. Age-gap (reader is not a minor). Dark Joel. Mean Joel. Loss of virginity. PiV. Slapping. Reader sees Joel as her dad. Painful sex. Joel enjoys seeing Reader hurt. Reader has daddy issues. Blood. Name calling. Degrading sex. Mention of suicide. Joel is NOT a hero in this one.

A/n: Well damn. If you want more, let me know.💓

─⊹⊱ ☆ ⊰⊹─

What a beautiful day to die, you thought when you opened your eyes this morning. You had spent the night in the woods—just like the night before, and the night before, and the night before...

You didn't dare set foot into the city. It was full with infected and raiders.

Sweat was dripping down from your forehead, even though you wore a light summer dress. Your legs were shaking from exhaustion, you were afraid they'd give in at any moment. You didn't know how long you had been wandering through the woods. Alone and lost. Your stomach was empty, as were your supplies. The only thing that kept you alive was the water from the river flowing through the woods.

Every day was a torment of uncertainty. You wandered between the many trees. You wandered with no destination in mind, with nothing in mind other than to put one foot in front of the other. Basic bodily functions like keeping your eyes open became harder with every passing day. The forest was rough and unpredictable, and you were not dressed appropriately. You were lucky that you hadn't broken an ankle with the footwear you were wearing. Yesterday you had stepped into a ditch and fell, you couldn’t find the strength to pull yourself out of it, so you just lay there and cried yourself to sleep.

Hoping to never wake up again.

Hunger made you grip your stomach in pain. You wished you could just cut it out, so that you didn’t have to put up with the cramps any longer. You had tried to catch squirrels and rabbits when your supplies became thin, but it was hopeless. You felt mocked by them. They led you deeper and deeper into the forest before seemingly vanishing into thin air, leaving you behind exhausted and still hungry. Your starving mind was trying desperately to come up with solutions. At one point you’d even eaten tree barks. Feeling full felt good, but it was short lived.

Suddenly your eyes caught something very promising. You stopped in your tracks, thinking that maybe this was yet another sick joke of your mind…

A berry bush.

Your eyes widened at the mere sight of the thick juicy berries. A miracle.

You ran to the berries. You couldn't remember the last time you had enough strength to actually run, but the mere thought of eating real food gave you the energy you needed to do that. You eagerly started to pick up as many berries as possible. Your hands were shaking in anticipation, your mouth watering, your mind running wild.

You were about to stuff the handful of berries inside your mouth when you suddenly heard the clicking sound of a gun.

*click click*

Your body froze.

„I wouldn't eat those if I were you.“, said a deep masculine voice.

The man was standing a few feet behind you, barrel of his gun aimed at you. The sight of you deeply confused him. When was the last time he’d seen a girl wearing a summer dress?

25 fucking years ago?

„Turn around.“, he said. „Slowly.“

You did what you were told, carefully turning around.

The first thing you saw was death lingering at the barrel of his gun. You slowly raised your shaking hands and looked up at your possible executor. A tall man, older than your father had been when he had passed. His old age didn’t match with his body. He had board shoulders and strong arms. His legs were long and steady. Fit. Invincible.

He looked like someone who would survive the apocalypse. Ruthless.

What a beautiful day to die, you remembered your thoughts from this morning—you weren’t so sure about that anymore…

He on the other hand, didn’t know what to think of you.

“Pokeweed berries..”, he pointed his gun at the berry bush behind you. “..are poisonous.”

“T-thank y-you.”, you stutter, unsure what else to say. You opened your palms and let the berries fall to the ground like little pearls.

It was comical that you were thanking the man who had a gun pointed at your face, but he appreciated your good manners.

“Now, tell me what are you doing on my land, girl.”, he demanded to know.

“I-I didn’t know...”, the last time you’d spoken to someone was your father. Your voice sounded brittle. You cleared your throat. “I-I didn’t know I was trespassing, s-sir.”

Joel had a way of dealing with trespassers; putting a bullet in their heads. No exceptions. He had never encountered a trespasser looking quite like you though. You were clearly malnourished—the gun in his hands weighted more than you. Your legs were covered in little scratches and nasty bruises. Your long hair were covering half of your face like a curtain—he could still make out enough to confidently say that you were too young and too pretty to be anywhere out here on your own. He saw no weapon on you neither. He raised his eyebrow when he spotted your painted toenails…You were wearing fucking sandals. You made no sense to him. Hadn’t you realised in what times you were living?

He could feel his pants getting tighter—which annoyed him greatly. It clearly had been a long time since he’d fucked a cunt when the mere sight of painted toenails and a pretty face excited him this much.

You were oblivious of what was happening inside the man’s pants. Your only worry was the gun pointed at your face. You wanted to run away, but your head was dizzy, your vision foggy, your stomach hurting and your mind running crazy.

It was a miracle that you were still standing at this point.

“Where are your people?”, he doubted you were traveling alone. You were probably just lost and people were already searching for you.

You shook your head.

“Bullshit.”, he spat. “Don’t lie to me, girl.”

He quickly scanned his surroundings, expecting someone hiding behind the trees and waiting to attack him. He took a step closer to you, which made you take a step back. “You gon’tell me that a girl like you is up here all by herself? I ain’t buyin it.”

“I-I swear, sir.”, you sobbed. “I’m…I have no one.”

Hearing the truth hurt. It took a lot of you not to break down crying. This was the first time someone had ever pointed a gun at you and it reminded you of the death of your mother. This is how she must’ve felt during her last seconds on earth? Scared and helpless.

Joel wasn’t sure if he believed you or not. By the looks of your physical state, it seemed to him that there was some truth behind your words.

“What’s in your backpack? Any weapon’s?”, he wanted to know. He thought about making you hand it over to him, but he doubted that you were carrying anything of use in it.

You shook your head. “Just my-my pocket knife.”

“Of course.”, he murmured, getting more and more frustrated with you. What a stupid girl. Walking around like this not even armed. He lowered his gun and turned around.

“Get lost.”, he said, before walking away. “Before I kill you.”

You were standing there perplexed, hands still up. You watched him walk away. He was the first human interaction you had in weeks. Your first human interaction besides your family. You shook your head in disbelief.

He was leaving you.

Leaving you alone.

Leaving you to Die.

Alone with your hunger and pain.

Your only chance of survival was literally walking away from you.

“Wait!”, you called out after him, but he kept walking.

No, no, no.

You started to run after him, almost tripping over your own feet. You couldn’t let him just walk away like that.

You had to do something.

“Please.”, you begged, not even sure for what.

But the man kept walking. His face was stone cold, looking right ahead.

“Please, sir.”, you tried again. “Please don’t leave me alone. I’m…I’m hungry.”

You sounded pathetic to him—something Joel barely tolerated.

“Not my problem, girl.”

You grabbed his arm, trying to stop him from walking any further—big mistake. He turned around in a heartbeat and grabbed your wrist. Your wrist felt like a toothpick in his iron-like grip. His first instinct was to break your fucking arm, but he stopped himself from doing just that, reminding himself that you were just a stupid kid.

Tears started to swell up from your eyes and your plump lip started to wobble. Fear was written all over your face and you immediately submitted to his strength. Knowing it was pointless to fight against it.

“Ouch.”, a sob escaped your throat and you begun to cry. Fat ugly tears started to run down your doll-like face.

He frowned, disgusted by your weakness and himself for finding it arousing…He let go of your wrist and you collapsed to the ground. Your shoulders started to shake uncontrollably. “I-I miss my d-daddy.”, you suddenly hiccuped.

A wave of feelings washed over him. He was annoyed of your showcase of weakness in front of him—a total stranger. He wanted to pull you up and slap you across the face, to get you back to reality. He was angry at himself for feeling sorry for you, just because you reminded him of his daughter in one way or another. Equally as innocent. Sarah never got to get used to the brutality of the world, she died an angel. Sweet and pure. He hadn’t felt this type of emotion for a long time. Sadness. Sarah—No. He shook the thoughts of his past life away. You weren’t Sarah. You were a nobody. Just a stupid girl that clearly didn’t know what was good for her—because Joel clearly wasn’t, especially since his pants got even tighter after hearing you cry out the word daddy.

Sick son of a bitch.

He decided that every feeling was easier to deal with than sadnesses. He wanted to forget, so he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you up. He slapped you across the face. Hard. Pain shot through your body and made you shut up immediately. His slap had put you in some kind of shock like state. The only other person who had ever done this to you was you father.

His hit felt so familiar, you almost wanted to beg for more.

“Consider this a warning, girl.”, he whispered close to your ear. “Have you any idea, what a stranger with a gun could do to a girl like you during times like this?”

You didn’t say a word. Your brain was still trying to regulate the pain that was radiating from where his hand had collided with your face.

“Last chance, girl,”, he said, voice dangerously low. “Get lost, before I blow your pretty face away.”

After a pregnant pause, you opened your mouth to speak. “You find me pretty?”

He has called you pretty.

He frowned at your words. Bewildered at your question in a situation like this

“Do you?”, you urged to know.

“I slapped you a little too hard, sweetheart? Seems like you’ve lost you goddamn mind.”

“Keep me.”

“What?”

“Keep me.”, you repeated, now silent tears running down your face. “Take me with you, I’ll be good to you. I-I promise.”

Your words angered him deeply because they sounded so goddamn good to him.

“I don’t want to die.”, it came out as a whisper.

He grabbed you by your throat. If you were scared, you didn’t show it. Your eyes seemed dull, disconnected. You truly looked like a lifeless doll to him. He brought you closer to his face. Observing you intensely.

You were so easy, so submissive. He didn’t know what to feel.

“You don’t know what you are getting yourself into, kiddo.”, he whispered. You could feel his hot breath on you skin. “You will not like what you recive..”

And he was right. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. You didn’t know anything. Your father had kept you sheltered away from reality. You never left the parameters of your fathers farm. You’d never spoken to anyone but him since the death of your mother. You didn’t know anything about the real world—but you’d read books. Many of them. Romances. You once read that “the female body is the most powerful weapon against a man.” At first you didn’t understand, but now you do. You knew what men wanted…it was the only thing you had to offer to him in order to survive.

He waited for you to say something. To apologise and beg him to let you go, that it was all an misunderstanding and that you were just a stupid girl who didn’t know any better— but you stayed quiet.

He saw desperation in your eyes, behind all the dullness.

Fuck.

He tossed you to the ground like a rag doll.

He was circling you like a lion, while throwing his weapon aside.

The man crouched down and spread your legs. He pulled your dress up, revealing your clothed cunt. He could see the outline of your plump lips through the thin fabric of your underwear. He nearly fucking came just by the sight of it. He tore your underwear apart with a grunt.

This wasn’t at all how you’d imagined your first time to be. You’d hoped it would be more like how it was in your books; with a guy you trusted and loved. Sweet and innocent. Exciting and nerve-wracking. Silly and dumb. Kind and loving.

Sadly, your really looked different; The forest floor was rough and uneven. Sticks and stones poked you in the back. It was uncomfortable. The man in front of you, who was currently slowly unbuckling his belt, was twice your age and far away from being your boyfriend. In fact, he was a total stranger. You were hungry and utterly exhausted. You felt disconnected from the situation—which was a good thing considering what would happen next.

„Fucking perfect.“, he whispered. You watched him stare at your most private parts. You felt ashamed and closed your legs again, blocking his view. His eyes snapped up at you, frowning.

„Open them.“, he said calmly. Chest falling up and down.

The sight of him in a state like this scared you. You nodded, scared of the sudden shift of his energy, and opened your legs for him again.

„Try this again and I’ll fucking cut your legs off.“, he warned.

He was slowly losing himself, losing control. The rational part of him knew that what he was doing was wrong for so many reasons. He was taking advantage of an starving girl. You were young, he didn’t even know how old. Definitely way younger than Sarah would’ve been now had he not failed her...

Stop.

A sudden wave of rage overcame him. This had nothing to do with Sarah. You had nothing to do with Sarah. It pissed him off that you made him think about her while being in a state like this.

You shook your head in dread. „I-I just…I…can I know your name?“

You hoped that maybe if you knew his name that this would feel less dirty, more intimate…

“Shut up.”, he just hissed. He grabbed inside his pants and freed his member. Your eyes widened and you let out a little whine of protest.

It was your first time seeing a man’s cock. It looked unnatural to you. It looked wrong. Thick and veiny. Too big. It was painfully red, throbbing.

He rubbed his hand over your little cunt, sending a shockwave through your body. He then put his thick finger inside you to feel you up.

„Are you scared?“, he asked.

You nodded. Scared and hungry. So hungry.

„I can tell, you’re fucking dry.“, he murmured, annoyed. He spit inside his palm and stroked his throbbing cock—this was all the preparation you would get from him.

Without wasting any more time, he slammed his thick cock inside you—or at least he tried. The size of his cock was too much to handle for your body, your cunt was rejecting him, working against him—but Joel kept pushing, forcing his length inside you. All of it.

Meanwhile, you were chocking on your own screams.

“Good job, cunt.”, Joel praised after making you take all of his cock.

He watched you cry for a second. Your face was painfully distorted and you were holding tightly onto his forearms for support.

“Fuck!”, he hissed. You were so tight, it was almost painful for him too. Almost.

He started to fuck you hard but slow. He was on top of you, holding himself up on his hands. After a few of his thrusts your body’s natural instincts kicked in and your cunt started to become wet for him, making this feel even better for him.

“Do you like it, baby?”, he chuckled darkly.

You didn’t. You had started to remove yourself from the situation by focusing on the branches of the leaves above you. So pretty.

Joel didn’t like that. He wanted you here. He wanted you to learn—too see what happens to dumb girls like you if not careful enough. He slapped you across the face again. This time hard enough to cause your nose to bleed—he didn’t mean to do that, he was pumped full of testosterone and adrenaline.

“I said, do. You. Like. It?”, with every word his hips snapped into yours, hard. Seeing you bleed for him like that only made him want to hurt you even more. Your were so goddamn sweet.

You looked up. Your vision was blurry, but he still looked so handsome to you. “Yes, dad.”, you whispered, confusing him with your father.

You had missed being close with someone. You had missed being loved. You had missed the warmth of human interaction. You were alone and scared for so long now. You never wanted to go back to that—even if it meant to suffer.

Hearing you call him dad, angered him. He stilled abruptly and grabbed you by your throat, making you chocke. “M’not your goddamn father, you fucking whore.”

He spit in your face. How dare you call him dad?

„Say it.“, he demanded.

You tried to but he was choking you too hard. He removed his hand from your throat.

„Your-your not my dad!“, you choked out.

He continued to fuck you, but this time his thrusts were even more unforgiving. His hips snapped into yours, bruising you up.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”, you cried out. “Please, ah!”

Joel didn’t care about your cries. It only turned him on more. Your father had clearly never explained to you how dangerous this world was for girls like you. You were lucky that it was him fucking you. It could’ve been much worse for you. You should thank him really.

Joel was fucking you like a beast, grunting and hissing in your ear. His sweat was dripping down your neck. He was hot, yet you felt cold. He kept his unforgiving rhythm; hard but slow.

You didn’t know how long it took him to find his high and finish, but he eventually came all over your stomach and dress. Growling like a wolf. You didn't even realize it was over. You could still feel him all over you.

“Fuck!”, he needed a few seconds to calm down. Kneeling over you and trying to catch his breath. His half-hard cock was hanging out of his pants. He wiped the sweat from his forehead while watching you lay beneath him covered in his hot cum.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw that blood was dripping down from your abused entrance. He looked down at his cock just to see it painted with your blood…

“Virgin?”, he whispered. You were a fucking virgin?

“What kinda fucking virgin whores herself out like this?”, he hissed at you. He was still panting heavily.

You didn’t respond, too stunned with the mixture of emotions you were feeling.

He got up and put his cock away, mumbling words to himself. He picked his firearm up from the ground.

He looked down at you. You still hadn’t made any efforts to get up. Your dress was still rolled up, cunt on display, cum all over you. He felt disgust by his handiwork.

“Get up, girl.”, he said. “C’mon.”

“It hurts.”, you just whispered, looking up at the dancing leaves.

He crouched down and rolled you dress down, covering you up before helping you in your feet. You looked down at yourself, your virginity was dripping down your slander legs. Your cheeks turned red out of shame as if it was your fault.

He cleared his throat. “M’name is Joel.”

You looked up at him and cracked a small broken smile. “I’m very hungry, Joel.”

He nodded a few times. “I know. Can you walk?”

He felt bad for even asking.

You tried to make a baby-step forward and pain shot through your body. “Ouch.”, you hissed and cupped your private part.

“C’mon. Hold onto me. S’not far.”, he offered you his arm and you looked up at him for any indication that he was just messing with you and that he would push you away the second you would touch him.

“Thank you, Joel.”, you said and grabbed his arm for support, looking forward to your meal.

[sugar-plum-writer]

The Serene Peony Of Winter

Paring: Sukuna!King of Curses x Fem!Geisha Reader

Tags: Slight! mention of violence; Fem!reader; Sukuna!imagines; will be 18+ as more chapters come; slow!burn, [I want to have a good build up!], an ancient Japan romance through time with darling reader~

[If you all like it, please heart and reblog the post! to know you want to read more~ and follow for chapter updates! or leave a comment to tag you when I put out new chapters~ I will do my best to roll out UPDATES ASAP!]

New Chapter update!

@naoyagasm @janeaugustine

@teonawrites @periwinkless-universe

CHAPTER- 3

1000 days, 1000 nights- but only 3 days of peace on a chilling winter night. Frozen houses, and frozen trees all soaked up the chilling breath of winter, letting it drown them in a sheet of white― pure and pristine, so pure and pristine that even the dead get company.

You had been able to bathe with hot water continually for 3 days, which is quite a luxury in the freezing winter. Rather than eating once in 3 days, you were able to eat every 2 days― gazing at the hot meal on your table as steam rose from a gift of satisfaction, into the surroundings.

"Ahahah! Y/n! You crazy girl!", Oka-San's laughter resounded in your room, as she sat wearing her new kimono, puffing her pipe

"To think you got him interested, did not die, is a miracle~ how many women can boast about it!", fanning her ōgi in front of her, sipping tea

"Do you know how much he gave?", A cheeky grin played in the reflection of her eyes― leaning in and took out a fat couple stack of Mon in front of you, "More is there but I have hidden it~ the sound of money is music to my ears!", she laughed tossing the coins in the air

"Muah! You are such a darling~"

"This meal, the hot water, this is the power of money Y/n this winter- won't be so cold", she hummed putting the stack of Mon back into her sleeves

"If we have leftover money, I will commission a new Hikizuri for you to wear this summer", finishing what she had to say she walked out after being called by one of the Maiko, silence filled the room

"But why?", gazing at your hands― and gently touching the small mark on your cheek which somehow was gone

"It's too noisy", picking up your chopsticks, and clasping your hands you prayed― grateful for the food and the hot bath due to your new patron, The King Of Curses, your new Danna. Sure a Geisha could have only one Danna at a time, but rules never applied to him anyways.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Holding your Wagasa to shield you from the cold, you walk with one of your patrons a sorcerer, wearing a light blue Hikizuri, and light-colored flower headpieces adorn your hair. With a light laugh, you walked down the courtyard.

"Oh my! it sounds delightful", batting your eyes as you smiled, "It is, if possible I would like- you to accompany me to my estate tonight", he gazed at your face

"I have people coming from the east prefecture, your dances are top-notch"

Politely without any reaction, "I must refuse, Danna-sama, forgive me― for my body is weak hence I need rest", bowed your head slightly and looked at him

"I see, maybe some other day then", he nodded, "But― be careful, word has been around", leaning in he whispered, "A strong curse has been around this area― some suspect him, to be the King of Curses", in a serious tone― eyebrows frowned

"If you get any information, regarding this, do tell me", he took out a pouch of Mon from his sleeve, which he kept in your hand

"Farewell, then Y/n, I will bring you your favorite Monaka, I know you have a sweet tooth. For now, I hope you like this gift", handing you a bira-bira featuring bells, long chains of additional silk flowers known as shidare, and a crest of the sorcerer stamped on the flattened end.

You smiled, "Then I will await your return Danna-sama, just like the cherry blossoms, waiting for spring"

"Can you wear it for me? After all I don't know if I will be dead or alive", he laughed

You looked at him, elegantly removing some hair accessories, pinning the bira-bira in your hair, and smiled. His breath hitched, and his body froze

"Beautiful, how can you be so beautiful... thank you Y/n", he smiled and bowed his head as he walked away waving

"I hope to see you alive…", you whispered, only the wind hearing your words, as it blew past

"He will die"

You froze, feeling a chilling presence behind you, you hesitantly turned around, feeling your throat dry up, and raised your head

"Quite a Lovey-dovey moment you had, how boring- don't think about him after all-", He laughed

"Sorcerers die, left and right, for a weakling like him to even reach so far- heh", the red eyes contrast with the white snow, that smirk plastered on his face, you knew it far too well

"Sukuna-sama", you bowed your head, and before you knew it, the bira-bira was removed from your hair, between his fingers- he gazed at it

"Do not wear it, especially, in front of me, toss it away, gold looks better on you anyways, accompany me Y/n", tossing the bira-bira back to you, he leaned in

"Your Oka-San sure is quite a woman, quite a gamble she has made", he chuckled, "Isn't she far too greedy?"

"She is, I won't lie, but this greediness has brought her so far", you gave a light chuckle as you looked at him

"Then if I am greedy for you- Will I be able to go as far as I want Y/n?"

Footnote: Check out masterlist for all chapters!

[dilf-din]

Forever Winter (If You Go)

Carmy Berzatto x reader

WC: 1200

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, panic attacks, allusions to suicide, light language

A/N: I feel like I don’t see many things addressing Carmy’s grief, so here a little blurby blurb of reader helping him through a panic attack. This man need a hug.

The intimate sounds of dinner rush roared in your ears. The soft blush of candlelight pressed a kiss to every profile and warm smile seated in pairs around you. A hundred pleasant smells swirled around the room, echoing off the walls and teasing of delicious bites to come. Silverware sharp against plates and lovers sharing hushed laughter were drowning out your thoughts as you stared at the white table cloth and empty seat in front of you, anxiously checking the time every twenty seconds.

Carmy was late a lot, but he was never this late. Never on your anniversary.

Every text sat unanswered, every call going to voicemail.

The waitress stopped by to refill your water one more time, giving you a sympathetic look. The basket of bread had been reduced to crumbs, and you could probably recite the menu from memory at this point. You knew you couldn’t sit there forever keeping another well paying pair from a warm meal.

“I’m so sorry. Here, keep all of it,” you apologized gathering your coat and bag and dropping a few twenties on the table to compensate for her time.

You quickly dodged waiters and trays of decadent looking food on your way back to the door. Another call straight to voicemail. You tried to ignore the worry that hung heavy around your neck. The Bear was only a few blocks away, so you opted to walk, knowing you could make it more quickly than flagging down a cab in Friday night traffic.

Teases of flurries danced down in the rough wind dotting your lashes and the wool of your coat. Underfoot, slush crunched with every step of your boots. The roads were sure to be icy in the morning.

Inside your head you kept repeating the same prayer.

“Please be okay, Carm. Please be okay.”

The seconds you stood waiting at each crosswalk for the light to turn green felt like an eternity.

“Please be okay, Carm. Please be alive.”

Each beat of your heart a silent plea to the night sky.

You unsteadily fished your keys from your coat pocket as you crossed the last street, checking your surroundings before letting yourself into the Bear’s front door and locking it quickly behind you. All the lights in front of house were off, just a dull stream of yellow poured out from crack in the doors, leading in the direction of his office.

“Carm? Baby?” you called out, tentatively but loud enough for it to carry through the empty building.

Unsteady legs carried you through the kitchen and around the corner, holding a breath involuntarily as you searched for that familiar mess of curls.

“Carmy?” you called out as you rounded the doorway into his office and found him huddled on the floor. He had tight fists buried in his curls and his breath was coming quick and ragged. Tears tracked down his cheeks disappearing under the sharp line of his jaw, his eyes unfocused and glazed over.

“Shit. Carmy? Can you hear me?” you shed your coat onto the floor and crawled down next to him taking his head into your hands.

He looked at you with pleading eyes, like a scream he didn’t have the strength to let out.

“I’m here. I’m here,” you reassured, never dropping his gaze. You had been through this with him before a few times. He did his best to keep it buried so it didn’t burden you, which inevitably led to all the grief bubbling over.

“I know it’s hard, but try to breathe with me,” you directed, drawing deep breaths through your mouth and holding them before slowly exhaling.

His eyes bore into yours as he tried to override the panic and get back in the driver’s seat of his body. Each breath, each call of your voice, the soft touch of your hands, it all began to ground him.

“It’s me, Carm. I’m real. I’m here,” you repeated. Minutes passed just mirroring each other’s breathing, and he felt the fear slowly release its grip on him.

When his heartbeat finally slowed to a normal pace, he slumped forward into your shoulder, his body exhausted from being in that state for so long. Your arms snaked under his and you stretched your legs out to sit against the wall, pulling him into your chest. You stroked a gentle hand through his hair and pressed kisses to the crown of his head. He buried his ear against the soft flesh of your breast in search of your own heartbeat.

You never pried, never prodded, always waited for him to come to you when things got bad. Sometimes he felt like talking, sometimes he didn’t. What Carmy was willing to share was entirely up to him. Some nights you held him for hours in silence, and some nights he opened up.

“I, uh, I thought I saw him,” he said quietly. His grip tightened on your dress. He drew another shaky breath in before continuing, “I was listening to some music while I was finishing up some payroll stuff and I, I saw him walk by. And he smiled at me. And I just,” he trailed off and nuzzled farther into you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while longer, your hands in his curls and rubbing down his back, his fingers fiddling with the zipper of your dress.

“Maybe you did see him,” you said softly, “Maybe he came to see you.”

His lips twitched into a fleeting smile where they were pressed against your collarbone. His weight against you was starting to feel less defeated and more relaxed.

“You think?”

“When you love someone they’re never really gone,” one of your hands trailed down his arms and began to trace his tattoos sending a chill down his spine.

With that, he sat straight up and looked at you with a pleading look like before, but softer, more him.

“I’m so sorry I missed our date, bug.”

“Honey, you didn’t plan this,” your hand cradled his cheek and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

“Love you so much,” he mumbled into your hand, pressing another series of kisses down your arm. With one finger he tilted your chin towards him snd pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “Happy two years babe,” he smiled. One of those real Carmy smiles that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Happy two years, Carm,” you exhaled contentedly. The moment was interrupted by the deep grumble of your stomach cutting through the silence.

“Baby,” he laughed apologetically.

“It’s fine, but we’re picking up Taco Bell,” you smiled reaching for your coat.

He pushed up off the floor and offered you a hand up.

“You look gorgeous, lovebug,” he twirled you a little to take a look at the dress and boots you had put on for your night out, “Sorry I didn’t get to show you off.”

“We’ll go out another time,” you reassured while he helped you into your long coat.

“Does it have to be Taco Bell?” he tried to bargain while he grabbed his keys and his own coat out of his locker.

“Non-negotiable at this point, Carm,” you said flatly.

“You know it’s not even real meat.”

“I know, Carmy.”

He gave an exaggerated defeated sigh and followed you out into the cold Chicago night.

[writeforfandoms]

Island - 1

Find the series masterlist

Here we are with a new series! I know, I know. I couldn't resist. This is a crossover with Ark: Survival Evolved but I don't think you need to know anything about the games beyond dinosaurs. And ice age critters.

You've been on the Island for a long time, and been alone for a while. So when you find a group of four men clearly new to the Island, you figure you'll take them under your wing.

After all, what's the worst that can happen?

Eventual Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

Word count: 4k

The first body was easy to spot, laying in the open on his back. He still had his clothes on, at least, sturdy-looking boots catching your eye with a twist of envy. 

The one beyond him was a little harder to spot, in the shade and wearing dark clothes also, so he blended better. 

Pulling Bessie to a halt, you slid down and patted her side, murmuring for her to stay put. A long stick was easy to find, and you approached the first man with caution. His chest rose and fell slowly - still alive. You took a moment to observe him while he was out. Thick, short hair, muttonchops, nose charmingly crooked. Hm. Hopefully he wouldn’t die so fast as the last one. 

Crouching down a little ways away, you used the stick to poke him. Some people, you’d learned the hard way, came up swinging. 

This one didn’t. He inhaled sharply once, after two pokes, his eyes snapping open. They were the most vibrant blue you’d ever seen on a person. 

“What–?” he started to ask, head turning towards you.

“Easy,” you murmured, holding your hands up in a show of good faith. “I’ll answer all your questions, I promise. Here. Have some water.” You held out a skin to him, watching him drink. He didn’t guzzle it, at least, taking two swallows before handing it back. 

“Where am I?” 

“I’ll answer all your questions,” you reiterated, looking beyond him to the second man. “But first I want to see if that guy is still alive.”

He was on his feet faster than you would have expected, taking a couple staggering steps before finding his stride. “Simon,” he murmured, taking a knee next to the other man. “Oi. Simon.”

Simon woke with a low groan, and you handed the water skin to the first man. You could see two more in the bushes, one of them already stirring on his own. 

“You know those two, then?” If they did… a whole group. It had been a long time since you’d seen a whole group dropped in together. 

“Johnny,” Simon rasped. 

“And Gaz,” the first one said, a hint of relief in his tone. “C’mon, boys, on your feet now.” It took him astoundingly little time to have all of them on their feet. You stood back a little, impressed and a little intimidated. 

They were all big men, clearly strong. You did have Bessie and a weapon, but you preferred not to use them if you didn’t have to. 

“Now,” the first one said, turning back to you. “Where are we?” 

“Welcome to the Island.” You smiled wryly at them. “Don’t ask me how you got here, because I don’t know. I woke up here, same as you lot did. Come on, I’ve got food and more water back at base.” You turned away from them, walking back to Bessie. 

“What the fuck?” One of them, Gaz you thought, exclaimed upon seeing Bessie.

“I know,” you soothed. “She looks scary, but she won’t hurt you. She listens to me.” You patted the big Trike’s nose, grinning when she rumbled affectionately at you. 

“That’s a triceratops.” Gaz was staring at her, unblinking. 

“Oh, that right? I hadn’t noticed.” You grinned, though, to take the sting out of your words. 

“How…?” He trailed off, clearly uncertain how to even phrase that question. 

“I don’t know,” you answered with a little sigh. “Come on, keep up. I’ll explain on the way.” You whistled a short note to Bessie, for her to follow you, and started walking. All four men kept up with you easily. 

“Alright. Well. Like I mentioned, this is the Island. It’s… I don’t know how it’s possible. But it is. Yes, she is a triceratops. No, she’s not the only dinosaur here.” You paused and licked your lips, glancing at your new companions. “This place makes very little sense, honestly.” 

“How did you know to find us?” That was the first man again. 

“I didn’t. Today’s a gathering day, so Bessie and I were just out gathering resources.” You nodded back to the laden bags on Bessie’s sides. “Found you lot by accident.” 

“You’re acting like this is normal,” the Scottish one, Johnny you were pretty sure, said, eyeing you warily.

You huffed soft amusement at him. “I woke up here, same as you,” you answered, smiling a little. “Someone took me in then, showed me the ropes, same as I’ll show you. And you lot aren’t the first I’ve found and taken in. Happens pretty regularly.” 

“What happened to the rest?” Gaz sounded like he almost didn’t want the answer.

“They died.” You swallowed back the memories that evoked. “Not too far from base now.” You glanced at each of them and gave your name. Which is how you learned some of them had other names - Ghost and Soap, particularly. The first one you’d woken was Price. 

“What is this place?” Soap asked, looking around as you walked. 

“Not really sure,” you answered, pausing a moment to look around. Just in case. Never hurt to be on the lookout for predators. “Some forgotten island a mad scientist took over? Some kind of social experiment? Dunno. Doesn’t really matter, anyway.” 

“Are you alone here?” That was Price, those eyes fixed on you. 

“I’m the last of my tribe, yeah.” You shrugged. “But there are other tribes here. I’ll explain more later, if you want. We’ve got to get up here, then around to base.” You led the way, long used to the trek as you headed up the hill. 

Your base was in a nice defensible location, backed up to a steep drop with a solid row of spiked fencing keeping dangerous things out. You pulled open the gate for them, ushering the men through first and then guiding Bessie through. 

“Home sweet home,” you told them with a little smile. It was better than it had been when you’d arrived - you now had several crop plots and berry bushes, a nice paddock set up for Bessie and Watermelon, a separate paddock for Ripper, and a house with plenty of room, even with four new clan members. 

“You did all this?” Soap sounded impressed.

“Goodness no,” you laughed, taking one bag off of Bessie and setting it aside. “No, I’ve had help, most of the time. Some of this was established when I arrived here, but I added the crop plots.” You took off the second bag and ushered Bessie in with Watermelon. “Food first, I’m guessing?” You started for the house without actually waiting for an answer, hauling one of the bags with you. The other could stay outside for a while. 

The four were quiet as they looked around, something for which you were grateful. It gave you a chance to debate your options. You didn’t have enough stew for five people, but you did still have plenty of berries, and it wouldn’t take long to make up a batch of quick rolls. It wouldn’t be a feast, but it would tide them over. 

“You said you don’t know how we got here,” Price said, deliberately making noise as he walked closer to you.

“Right.” You focused on grabbing ingredients for the rolls, sparing him only a quick glance. 

“How long have you been here, then?” 

You actually had to think about it for a moment, head tipped to one side. “Seven hundred and twenty… two days. No. Twenty three.” 

“Almost two years?” Gaz asked, clearly shamelessly eavesdropping. 

“Almost.” You frowned down at the dough, adding a little more water to it. 

“And you’ve been doing this the whole time?” Price made a vague motion to the base.

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, giving the dough one more stir before you separated it out. “I’ve traveled, of course. Read through all the notes I could find. Learned the skills needed to survive here.” You shrugged again. “That’s how it goes here. I’ll be happy to teach you all as well.” 

Price blew out a slow breath. “You haven’t found a way off the island.”

“Of course not.” You rolled your eyes. “Nobody has. I don’t even know if there is a way off the Island. I mean, there must be, the supply drops come from somewhere, but I’ve never seen a plane or anything.” 

“There are supply drops?” Soap’s turn to eavesdrop.

“Of course.” You transferred the rolls to a baking stone, setting them carefully in the oven. Not as nice as a modern one, of course, but you’d only burnt a few rolls before figuring out how to make it work. “Daily, in different areas. I’ve got a big map up on that wall.” You pointed and grinned at the subsequent migration. “Home is the big blue dot.” 

More leisurely, you strolled over to stand behind the men, observing the map. It was a complete map, with bases marked accordingly. 

“What’s this, then?” Soap pointed to a green marker out on the plains.

“The horse tribe.” You rolled your eyes. “Pricks. They’re not particularly friendly.” 

“I take it they use horses,” Gaz said, flicking a grin at you. 

“Yeah. Exclusively. They will trade for carrots, at least, so they can be reasonable.” You shrugged. “Not often, but it happens.” 

“And here?” Ghost pointed to the red dot up between two mountains. 

“The Painted Ladies.” You looked away from the map. “They’re… a little zealous. Have no use for males, of any species. They use the red berries to make a dye and mark everything with it - themselves, saddles, clothes.” 

“That it?” Price this time, examining the map more closely.

“I haven’t checked in a while, but there used to be a tribe down here, between the base of this mountain and the swamp. No idea why they chose there, but it’s not my problem.” You shrugged. “Oh! And hypothetically there’s the sky tribe, built mobile bases on a few quetzal, but I’m not convinced that’s real.” 

You left them to continue examining the map, checking the food and tapping your fingers against the table. Still didn’t feel like enough, not with four of them. So you pulled out an extra slab of meat from the preserving bin, slapping that in a pan with some herbs and a few potatoes chopped up. There. That’d do. 

“There are plates and cups in that cupboard,” you said, pointing, hoping one of them would take the hint. “If you wanna wash up, that’s out back. Just don’t drink the water.” 

“On it,” Gaz said, moving to get the plates and cups. He even found the utensils with a little poking around. Good man. 

Dinner was… stilted. You had gotten accustomed to being alone again, and they were still adjusting. Not that you blamed them - you’d been in shock the first three days you’d been here. They were doing better than you.

Then again, they all knew each other, so that probably helped. And, honestly, they looked like they were military. Big guys like them, combined with the way they’d looked at the map and the way they carried themselves… Pinged as military in your mind. You’d seen their type before. 

You took the dishes out back to clean, waving off their offers. You needed a bit of quiet time to yourself. 

Four new people, all at once. A group. You’d only seen pairs come in before, not a group of four. Honestly, it made you wonder all over again about whoever was running this. What did they want? What was the point of this? 

Maybe there was none. Maybe it was all just an elaborate form of torture. You sure didn’t know anybody who’d made it out alive. 

You snorted softly, shaking your head. No point wondering about it. You had too much to do. 

Especially with four more people to feed. That would be a lot. 

You blew out a breath. Hopefully these ones would outlive you. You didn’t know if you could handle losing any more people. 

“Ma’am?” 

You jumped, startled, and looked at Gaz’s sheepish expression. “Yes, Gaz?” 

“Want me to take anything in for you?” 

You huffed out a little laugh. “Insistent, huh? Yeah, alright, you can take the plates in. I’ll show you where the bedding is once I’m done out here.” 

Gaz nodded, picking up the plates, though he didn’t move yet. “You alright?” 

You shot him an amused smile. “I should be asking you that.” 

He shrugged, looking down. “Big change for you, too,” he murmured, fingers shifting around the plates.

Your smile softened a little. “It is,” you admitted. “But I’m okay. It’s good to have people to talk to again. I’ll make sure to teach you everything you need to know about this place.” 

He nodded, searching your gaze for a few moments before he left. 

They all opted to bunk down together, which made life easier for you. The house was an open floor plan, so you just pushed some things out of the way, gave them bedding, and left them to it. 

You, of course, did last rounds before bed, checking on your three tames, checking the fence, and checking the surrounding area through the slats in the fence. A few pachys, a parasaur, and a stego farther out. Quiet out tonight. Good. 

The few crystals you’d left out all day were glowing softly now that night had fallen, so you brought those inside. The glow was soft, diffuse enough that it wouldn’t keep anyone awake (hopefully), but would still provide some illumination. 

In case any of them needed it. Or you. 

Murmuring a soft good night to them, you grabbed your own bedding and curled up in your favorite corner. It didn’t take long to drop off to sleep. 

You were surprised when they woke at sunrise, same as you. You let them take care of themselves, instead pulling water to boil and working on biscuits. They were easy to make and lasted a few days, although you doubted they’d be around that long. 

“You said there are supply drops?” Price asked, standing to one side while you worked.

“Mmhm. Not in the same spot, but they come down.”

“If you’re planning to go to any today, I’d like to go with you.” 

You straightened after putting the last batch of biscuits in the oven, dusting your hands off. “I’ve got a few questions first. You lot military?” 

“Yes.” He crossed his arms over his chest, watching you more closely.

You nodded. “Good. Think you can trust me enough to keep you all out of the worst of the trouble until you learn the ropes?” 

His lips twitched. “Do we have a choice?”

“Always.” You frowned at him, disapproving. “You never have to stay here. If you really want to leave and try on your own, I can give you some supplies and advice. You’re not beholden to me, or anything like that.” 

He only smiled, apparently pleased. “We’ll follow your lead.” 

You blinked, not having expected that. “Uh. Good.” You ignored one of them snickering behind you and took the freshly-boiled water off the flame. “Right, those’ll take a bit. Let me show you the guns.” 

That got all of their attention, and they all followed you outside to the weapons cabinet. You opened it with a little flourish, grinning at their expressions. 

A few bows and crossbows sat on one side, arrows piled neatly below. Your pistol you picked up, tucking away so they didn’t get any ideas. 

Which still left three longneck rifles, another pistol, and one (slightly broken) assault rifle. 

“Quite a stash,” Soap murmured, going for one of the rifles. 

“They come in some of the supply drops,” you offered, stepping back to give them better access. “And ammo, which is below. The assault rifle is broken, haven’t the foggiest what to do with it.”

“I do.” Ghost picked that one up and stepped away. You let him. Not like he could make it any more broken.

“Please don’t shoot any of them here, you’ll scare the tames, and that will end badly for everyone.” You left them to the guns, going to grab Bessie’s bags again. 

“Not a problem,” Price assured you, taking one of the longnecks. Gaz and Soap each had one as well. 

You nodded once, making sure both bags were empty and in good condition before you hung them on the side of the paddock. You’d take Bessie with you when you taught them how to hunt here. 

You had a feeling at least one of them would be a bit… resistant to eating meat after this. 

The biscuits went over well - Gaz ate four in one sitting. You packed up several more in a bag, along with two water skins freshly filled. 

“Alright,” you murmured, taking them outside again. “Look for blue smoke, that’s usually what they use for the supply drops. Sometimes green. Once in a great while, yellow.” 

“Blue,” Gaz called after only a few seconds, pointing. Towards the beach. Good. 

“Green,” Soap called less than a minute later. You sucked your teeth when you saw that one - towards the mountain. Not good. 

“Right,” you mumbled, chewing your lip. “We’re going for blue first. We’ll hunt along the way.” 

Nobody said a word against your plan, which was frankly miraculous. You got Bessie ready again, whistling for her to follow. 

“You tamed her?” Price fell into step next to you at the head of the group. 

“Her, yeah.” You smiled. “The other two, no. Watermelon was tamed by the guy before you lot - Jasper. Nice guy. Former marine.” You shrugged. 

“And the other?” 

“Ripper was tamed by my mentor, Tom. He left her to me, made sure she knew I was friendly.” Your smile was tinted bittersweet at the memory of Tom. You firmly maintained you couldn’t have had a better mentor. 

Not like you’d turned out to be. 

“How does that work?” 

You huffed, shaking your head even as you continued to scan for danger. “That’s at least a week two project, Price. Gotta learn the basics first.” 

“Alright.” He seemed amused now. “Tell me more about the supply drops.”

You shot him an amused look. “I take it you’re in charge of the boys.” 

“That obvious, eh?” His lips twitched. 

“With that tone of voice? Yeah.” You grinned, though. “Supply drops usually have all kinds of things. Clothes, weapons, ammo, medicine, food. Anything that can’t easily be made here, or requires technical skills that can’t easily be learned. Sometimes notes, manuals, things like that.”

“And they drop daily.”

“Usually, yeah. They aren’t in the same spot every day, so they’re not always close enough to grab. We got lucky with this one on the coast, actually. The coast is less dangerous than the mountains.” You paused to take a quick look around, just to be safe, before you continued on. “As long as you don’t go in the ocean, anyway. Practically everything in the ocean wants to kill you.” 

Quiet fell for a little while as you all walked. There was still a little bit of light forest between you and the coast, and the supply drop. The forest was usually quiet here, but not always. Fortunately, they seemed to note your caution and followed your lead, all without a word. 

You could get used to that. 

“I see the drop.” You blew out a slow breath. Once again, through the forest without incident. And still with plenty of time to let them do some hunting. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got.” 

Ghost set up keeping an eye on the surrounding area while you and Gaz pulled the top off the crate. 

You whistled at the contents. Small bottles of medicine, bandages, a few splints, another pistol and ammo… And an oiled coat, which you promptly held up to check the size. That would come in handy on rainy days. 

“This is a good haul,” you murmured. Coat looked too big for you. Damn. “Alright, let’s load up Bessie, make sure you cushion those medicine bottles.” 

They worked easily, efficiently. Even if you did catch Soap side-eyeing Bessie when the trike huffed. 

You broke down the crate the rest of the way, tying the pieces together and attaching that to the leather harness. Good. 

“Right,” you murmured. “Hunting next, I s’pose.” You blew out a breath, hands on your hips, looking down towards the water. “We’ll start easy.”

“Oi,” Soap started, indignant. 

“Easy for me,” you corrected with a little grin. “Come on. I can usually find dodos down this way.” A short whistle for Bessie to follow and you started down the beach, letting the others follow at their own pace. 

The beach was usually quiet. At least, here it was. The swamp… much less so. But here? Not a problem. 

“There we go,” you murmured, stopping far enough away that the dodos wouldn’t freak out. Not that they did anyway - they were pretty stupid. “Five of ‘em, that’s good. Right, just aim for the heads. They’re not smart and they’re not fast, I’m sure you can get ‘em.” 

You stood to the side, letting them figure out how they wanted to do this. You were only a little amused when Price approached it in a very military fashion - he sent Soap and Ghost around to the other side to help pen in the big dumb birds. 

Honestly, it didn’t take them any time at all to take down the birds. You whistled lowly. They were efficient. 

“Keep this up and you won’t need me,” you joked, patting Bessie’s side.

“Think we still have a few things to learn,” Price said, falling in step next to you as you walked over to the birds. 

You hummed acknowledgement before you grabbed the first bird by the feet, dragging it over to Bessie. “Might be a nest around here,” you said, glancing at Gaz. “Mind taking a look?”

Gaz was off with a nod, even as Soap and Ghost walked over to help. 

“We’ll take these two back,” you said, attaching the second bird to Bessie’s harness. “The other three we can butcher here.” You shook out the oiled cloth you’d brought with specifically to wrap the meat in, laying it on the sand. 

Fortunately, none of them were squeamish. Unfortunately, you only had two knives. 

It still took relatively little time for you and Price to get the meat done and wrapped up. 

"Found a few eggs," Gaz reported, carefully holding the eggs against his stomach. Three of them. Your mouth watered at the sight. 

"Brilliant." You grinned. "Alright, this has worked out quite nicely for us! I can show you some berry patches on the way back." 

None of them objected, so you got everything situated in Bessie's bags and started the walk back. 

You'd made it most of the way when you heard the little growl. You stopped, hand going to your pistol, and you noted Price doing the same near you. 

But the creature that stepped out of the brush was no threat. The hyaenadon growled softly again, gaze focused on you. 

"Easy," you soothed, both it and the men. "Easy does it." You released your pistol, taking two steps back to Bessie and cutting off a chunk of meat. 

"What are ye doin'?" Soap hissed, confused and a little incredulous. 

"No need to panic," you soothed, stepping forward again, still moving slow. You stepped ahead of Price and crouched down. "Here, sweetheart. Here you go." You held out the meat, heart racing. 

The hyaenadon crept closer, slow, cautious, a little skittish. It sniffed the meat and then, very delicately, took it from your hand. Its stubby tail wagged and it whined a little, chowing down. 

"What is this?" Price asked this time.

"I have been working on taming this darling for weeks," you said, keeping your tone low and gentle. "I think this one is almost ready to come home." 

"Ye can't be serious." Soap again, this time aghast. 

"Of course I am." You smiled as the hyaenadon licked your hand. "Good job," you murmured. "That's a good pup. How about I bring you more tomorrow, hm?" 

The hyaenadon whined again and scampered off back into the woods. You straightened with a satisfied smile. 

"What was that?" Ghost finally, voice a low growl. 

"Home first," you insisted. "Then I'll explain."

[deafsignifcantother]

sanctum

♥ summary: after being flabbergasted at meeting a deaf person for the first time, and after husk gives him a little lesson, angel approaches with an apology. based off of if music be the food of love woot woot but i changed the reader to be a little less obvious it's the other protag so it's easier to consume for people who aren't interested in the series bc i love my audience :3 ♥ relationship: angel dust and x deaf woman reader (platonic) ♥ word count: 2.2k ♥ notes: for @glitched-out-dusk , reader talks with alastor a lot bc i actively hc alastor knows asl and i'll never change that in my stories

The first time Angel saw you, he didn't try to communicate. He just analyzed you, staring you up and down, wondering if you were faking your Deafness. You stared at him back with a small smile. The moment only lasted a few seconds since Charlie decided it was time to butt in and start a conversation with you. Angel kept glancing over, his arms crossed, watching your body movements and how your eyes flicker around. You stare at others' lips, which is a weird habit, and though you have a clueless look in your eyes, you never look away from others' faces.

You are the first visitor in months after Sir Pentious. Since he came, Charlie hoped another visitor would seek redemption, and her positive affirmations came true. Angel only has expectancy this day. It's not like any other person will come knocking on the door.

His brain sinks into dirty thoughts while he watches you: how loud would you moan if you were doing the nasty? What would please a deaf girl most?

Husk can practically hear the porn star's thoughts, but Angel Dust's forcing those thoughts into his head to repress what he really feels. His heart decides on feeling a tinge of forsaken loneliness, he's going to be forgotten again, isn't he? But you're the one most isolated with the language barrier. You might be the forgotten one, right? Does he, selfishly, want that?

It is all Angel can do to imagine what you must be feeling, understand the situation you've found yourself in; dealing with everybody and losing social interaction. He's become a part of that cause, hasn't he?

Damn you. Damn you for forcing him to learn something new. Damn you for making him realize how empty he feels in the group and how he doesn't want you to feel the same way.

So sometimes, after you go to sleep, he'll stay up with Husk, both cooing at him and begging him to teach basic sentences.

Simple signs stick with Angel, even as drunk.

"Is hello that easy?" He asks. Husk just laughs.

"Some signs are a lot easier than you'd think."

Husk is rusty in his ability. He's only had to use the language a few times when he was alive, and he doesn't remember ever interacting with an actual Deaf person. Surely, he had learned it for a good reason. His soul is so long gone that he can't even remember.

But the alphabet sticks with him, and so do gambling-related signs. He picks apart those sentences and tries to teach Angel the words rather than their meanings when pieced together.

And one night, not even a week since you arrived, somebody tapped Angel's shoulder as he leaned over the bar's counter.

He turns, hair bouncing with the whip of his head, and he bites the inside of his lip when he sees you. He finger spells your name, and you can only give him a sympathetic smile in your sleepy haze.

"Good job," you sign to him before turning to Husk. "Do you have water over here, or is it in the kitchen?"

He stares at you blankly. You, water, pointing to the bar, pointing somewhere else, question face. "Yeah, give me a second."

Angel eyes you, taking notes in his head. Your hands move slower when you sign to Husk, compared to signing with Alastor, and you tend to sign high so Husk can focus on your hands instead of your eyes.

Holding back a yawn, you rub your eyes while sitting on a stool, taking the very full glass of water and sipping the top. If you sit here, they'd have to acknowledge your presence, but they need to be more confident to hold a conversation. What could they even talk about? Card dealing? Sex?

You look between them and smile to yourself, dropping your head and looking away in case they try to start signing. You're just here for water, not to be a test subject. The more they practice, the better they'll be.

A small groan leaves your throat. As you turn to Angel, he stops talking to Husk, closing his lips and searching your lifted hands. You sign your name, giving him your name sign, hoping he'd understand. When he stares at you in panic, you fingerspell your name and then wave it off, signing your name again.

Husk speaks up, dropping his voice. "It's her name. You don't gotta fingerspell it all the time."

Angel glances over, whispering as if you'd overhear. "Do I gotta use it everytime I see her? When do I use it?"

"It's a fucking name, you don't go around naming Charlie every time you see her."

Your eyes flicker back and forth between the two of them. Husk pauses, and so does Angel, almost in alarm.

"Idiots." You're not even sure they understood the insult, but you keep going. You grab the glass with one hand, signing with the other. "I know you filled this up just to keep me here."

Husk shrugs, pretending to understand, and grabs a bottle (copying your actions) and drinks it. Angel stares with red cheeks, awkwardly holding his own and mimicking the movement.

You fight a frown; they're so annoyingly cute.

So you chug the drink, closing your eyes as you do so. Angel would have preferred if you had stayed, but he had to say his goodbyes with his hand twitching as if he was waving wrong. You get up from the stool. "See you tomorrow," to Husk and a simple wave to Angel.

They both watch you walk off.

"Could have been worse," Husk mumbles.

"Great. What if she thinks I'm a dumbass." He puts his check in his hand, his elbow pressing hard into the wood of the counter. The words sound faint coming from Angel. The change of heart has Husk grinning behind a bottle. "What's come over you?"

He runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing, it's whatever."

.

Once again, once you wake up, you walk downstairs and head straight to the bar. But Husk isn't there. A prominent frown falls onto your face. The water you drank last night was the most comfortable liquid you've ever had the pleasure of drinking in Hell. It cleared your throat and overstayed its welcome in your need for hydration. You enter behind the bar, eyeing the crazy amount of bottles and the array of fridges. How does he remember all of these products? Perhaps he just drinks them and hopes they do something. Your hand runs across the area for mixing, feeling the sticky covers. Maybe he's not the best bartender.

You grab a glass, wiping off the rim just in case, and you eye the hose-like thing nearing the sink.

Husk watches from afar but your focus is too direct to perceive his presence. You push down on a trigger as lightly as possible, and a powerful burst of water fills the cup, wetting your arms. You place the glass on the counter and use a hand towel to dry yourself off. Is this thing stained? You hope not. It's so unclean back here.

You see the blurry colors of Husk in the corner of your eye before you look up at him. He can't help but give you a small, unadorned smile.

You figured the water out yourself; that's cute; the whole ordeal was a show he would have paid to watch.

He crosses your body and stands next to you, grabbing the hose from you and showing you the switch on it. It's not a button but a pressure-related scale. Your mouth forms an O.

Angel isn't the only one who wants you to feel welcomed.

Vaggie is having issues letting Angel be the second guest getting so close to you. She knows that he is undoubtedly someone who can't read the room and will fit sexual words into any conversation. His ability to read the room is either nonexistent or actively ignored. She watches him practicing signing with Husk whenever he can. Maybe he's trying to learn complete sentences before harassing you.

She also notices that whenever he hears the click of your shoes against the floor, he'll look up with excitement, clenching his fists to calm down his delight. He always tells himself, 'this is the day I'll actually talk to her.' The day doesn't come for a while since whenever he sees you, you're by Alastor. Alastor will tell you stories about his life (lies?) and things that happened in the hotel. He'll describe the nightshade assemblages before explaining how often their railings have fallen apart.

Angel can't understand anything that demon says but glimpses at your hand shows how comfortable you are around him. Angel stares expressionlessly at the two of you, signing back and forth, and your smiles, wide. The jealousy heats him constantly, but nothing ever comes from it.

It will take a while before he can talk to you like that. The realization puts him on the brink of giving up.

Beer dribbles downward, discoloring the tips of his chest fur. The bar is messy, as if it's not the middle of the day. His confidence rises when he drinks. All he needs is a moment where you're alone. Or not.

With all his might, he drags himself sloppily towards the lounge and almost flops onto the couch next to you. He steps over the threshold, inhaling deeply. Alastor eyes him with his every step, and you follow his gaze, staring at Angel. Angel braces himself by gripping the top cushions when he staggers close enough to the couch. He raises his right hand, fingers wiggling in thought. It almost comes across as a "wait."

Alastor's eyes go to you, half expecting you to look back at him and roll your eyes, but you continue your stern gaze at Angel.

Angel drops his head, looking up at you through his eyelashes, "I'm sorry."

The chandelier darkens his face from above, and gravity pulls down the fluff of his head that seems to have been unbrushed this morning. At your silence, his confidence melts leisurely down from his head to the tip of his fingers.

"Sorry for what?" You drop the smile that was on your face and adjust yourself to face him a little more. The major thing you notice is him signing with one hand comfortably.

"I'm sorry you only have him to talk to." Angel's interpretation of 'him' wasn't a point but a wave in the direction, almost a 'that guy over there.'

You laugh. "We are talking now, aren't we?"

More apprehension burns a hole in his chest. He finally stands up, using two hands instead of one. "I'm running out of signs I know."

"Are you sure?" You finally switch your position on the couch to face him completely, ignoring Alastor at last. Your eyes look him up and down. "You look tired."

Tired, he knows that sign.

"Just a little."

You hum, reaching out to him. Your fingers brush his fur, feeling the drip, trying to wipe it away. "Sure."

You unveil a smile that looks as if it were snatched from Charlie's at her bondings. But your eyes continue to stare intently. "You should go to sleep. Stop drinking so much. It's not even night."

"I got things to do."

"Really? Astonishing."

He snaps into focus. One day, he was worried about whether he was waving right, and days later, he signs simple sentences you understand. His vision aims at your eyes, the area he wonders he should actually be looking at.

His thoughts are interrupted by the clearing of a throat. "I'm afraid you're intruding," Alastor says. Angel frowns at him, and you follow his gaze.

"Alastor," you sign with a psah, "he's just practicing."

"Rather annoyingly, my dear. I don't know how you do it."

"With patience."

Patience, Angel doesn't know that sign. When you whip your head back and give a playful shrug, you lean in. "He's going to get pissy if I talk any longer. You're doing a good job, Angel. Don't doubt yourself."

You grab his hand, holding his pointy fingers and maneuvering his fingers to form a thumbs-up. If he doesn't understand half of your signs, at least he can understand that. And then, with a wink, you turn back to Alastor, who lets out a hum in disapproval at the whole ordeal.

The flicker of the lights went unnoticed as Angel marched over to Husk, a big smile on his face. He had left a manly collection of bottles surrounding the area, which Husk had politely taken care of.

Husk chuckles before Angel can even get close. "Yeah?"

"You won't believe it," Angel boasts. "I actually got her approval."

"Wow," it almost sounds sarcastic. "Good work."

Angel plops down on a stool, holding the edge counter to stretch out his hands, dramatically straightening his shoulders and putting pressure on the middle of his palms. "Now, whiskers, do I get a reward? I've been a good boy."

Husk grimaces as if he's smelled a foul odor. "Not excited for the day you learn how to sign that."

"She'll be ecstatic," Angel smiles at himself. "Won't even see it coming."

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

🚬🦇 Some Vampire!Price AU Lore🦇🚬

Bonus Mummy!Gaz at the end ���️👄👁️

Wrote this from morning until night before I sleep. I've got too much brainrot to just let it stay in my head. It has around 4k words so enjoy!

---

John Cristopher Price was born a human in 1286 in England. Coming from a lord status, He was an honorable knight through and through, loved dearly by his subordinates and of course by the king himself, Edward I.

Price died in the battlefield against the Scots when an arrow pierced through his heart. A former vampire saw his fortitude throughout his life, and made him drink her blood, and he rose as a human no more, but a blood-hungry vampire.

No amount of weapons could kill him -- pierced, stabbed, crushed, he always comes back. His thirst for blood couldn't seem to be controlled. He could see the blood flowing through every human he saw until one night, he unconsciously controlled his wife's blood, stopping her heart, and drinking her dry.

Ever since then, the people saw him as a monster, a demonic being that would end humanity. They demanded his head and even tried to burn him alive, yet the sharpest swords by the finest blacksmiths couldn't cut his neck, and no hellfire could burn him.

Not being able to live past his mistake of murdering his own wife, Price eventually escaped and lived in solitary, roaming around the British isle.

He lived through generations, learning how to live like a human. He pushed through the churn in his stomach as he tried to eat animals and vegetables, drinking water and tea even though his tastebuds only knew bitterness. Eventually, Price earned total control of his body, finding the sweetness inside the bitterness, and regulating his own stomach acid so the food he consumes stays down.

He came back to society during the 1500s when England was under the rule of Elizabeth I. He became a farmer, earning connections and new friends, all the while trying to find his place in the middle of humanity.

Price couldn't seem to stay away from the battlefield though, as when he defended his lord's land from armed mercenaries who sought for his lord's demise, one of the Queen's people saw his potential to be one of her loyal knights in her conflict with Mary of Scots. He went overseas to Spain, France, and even Russia for her, personally knowing Elizabeth until her death.

As one of Elizabeth I's subordinates, He became a knight for the rest of the House of Stuart monarchs. After that though, his age became a suspicion among the knights, so he pretended to die in one of the battles and went back to live in solitude.

For hundreds of years he lived in a cycle. Showing up out of nowhere in the city, become a soldier, sneakily drinking the blood of his enemies when his friends’ eyes were averted, and when the people around him started to notice his unaging face or when they saw him not dying from swords, he’d flee the city for one or two generations, and then coming back again to become a soldier.

Centuries passed. Newer and deadlier weapons were invented. Of course he tried the weapons on himself, but none of them managed to send him to the afterlife.

The cycles kept going, but just as he thought he had conquered this vampire body of his, something dreadful happened.

During the height of World War I, he was one of the soldiers who were deployed to No Man’s Land. After spending weeks and even a month inside the trenches, his thirst for human blood became unbearable and started to take control of his consciousness. Despite trying to fight the urge, all he saw when he walked by his fellow soldiers and superiors was each and every pump of their bloods moving inside the veins.

One night, his thirst grew out of his control, and he attacked one of his own fellow soldiers in his sleep – his own best friend. His friend screamed as he sunk his fangs into his neck, unable to fight Price’s monstrous strength. The other soldiers inside the trench heard the terrifying scream and saw Price in his most horrid state – bright red eyes filled with nothing but insanity, fangs deep inside a fellow soldier’s neck with blood running down his chin.

As his friend’s body fell to the ground, his consciousness returned and he saw what he had done. The allied soldiers started to rain down bullets upon him, fearing that the devil himself had come up to earth, yet none of them managed to pierce him. No kind of bullet was able to go pass through his skin, and no matter how much he shouted, more explanations would only make them more terrified.

And so, in the middle of the chaos, Price used his power to control the flow of blood of every single soldier with a gun in their hands, rendering them immobile against their will. He couldn’t say anything at that point. No amount of apology would bring his friend back, and no amount of explanation would stop them from fearing him. In his sorrow, Price climbed the trenches, welcoming all the incoming bullets from the enemies with open arms, hoping to end this curse of his. Of course, it could not kill him, an eternal vampire.

With nowhere to go, Price stormed the Axis’ side of the trenches on his own, attacking the enemies, drinking the blood of anyone he could sink his teeth to. The more blood he consumed, the more powerful his control over the blood of the people around him. At that point, his body was the fullest he’s ever been with human blood.

In his most powerful state, Price stopped the heart of every enemy in his sight, instantly killing them. As fear and chaos wreaked around the enemies’ trench, the Allied’s forces started their march, only to find Price nowhere to be seen.

After that tragedy, Price lived in solitude for years, hiding in the woods and mountains, swearing to himself that he’d never consume human blood ever again, even if it belongs to his enemies. He lived in the moutains, away from civilizations, hunting for animals to live.

That is, until in 1940, Price met Sir David Stirling, a British Army officer from Scotland who had been searching for the legendary “Devil of The Trenches”. Price was initially extremely apprehensive of his intentions considering how he literally trailed a mountain to search for a legendary being – a dangerous one at that. However, when Stirling told him that he’s aware of his powers and that he's in need of special people for his mission in North Africa, Price finally relented and joined him to his first operation after the World War I tragedy.

Price fought in World War II with David and other soldiers under the name Special Air Service, "L" detachment. He became one of the key figures of winning countless battles in the North African Campaign without people noticing his powers, thanks to David’s clever ways of hiding his power and authorities as a military officer, even freeing David and the others when they were captured and became a prisoner of war. Price’s existence quickly turned into a legend, and as time went on, his powers and abilities became a highly classified information in an already secretive corps, securing his identity and even his livelihood.

Price joined the major battles that the SAS had involved themselves in, even becoming an instructor among the British Army, sharing his vast knowledge of warfares that he’s earned from experience. He currently lives in his own house in London, living among humans as a regular person, owning a calico cat named Greg.

After his mission in Urzikstan, Price expressed his proposition to Laswell about creating a task force consisting of people with special powers and abilities, who could easily and efficiently finish the missions with little to no complications, all from the depth of shadows.

---

You've read this far, holy shit. Have a bonus story!

BONUS : Mummy!Gaz ⚰️🧢

Throughout his career, Price had found more and more people with special powers and abilities, like the big brooding man who could travel along the darkness and disappear like a smoke, a young Scotsman who had an animalistic trait and happened to be an exhibitionist, and… A bloodless person,

Who happened to be far, far older than him.

Price found his grave, or rather, his sarcophagus in Egypt back when he fought in World War II during the North African campaign.

Price, together with David Stirling and the first members of the SAS were intercepting the Axis troops' railways and supply dumps, when he'd found an evidently colourful sarcophagus inside one of the carriages.

See, this was not a weird or odd finding, because they've received some news about the unearthing of many sarcophaguses from the Ancient Egypt throughout many parts of Africa, even the ones belonging to ancient kings and queens. With that said, this finding was not much of a surprise for Price and his teammates, it's just that they had never expected to find one themselves.

This sarcophagus, though, didn't look like it belonged to a king or a member of a noble family. Despite the eccentric colours and engravings, it's not as large and humongous like those belonging to a monarch, so the members of SAS just dismissed it as just another coffin of a civilian.

Contrary to the others, Price felt like the sarcophagus was calling to him. The feeling was similar to when he died the first time and tasted the blood of the former vampire. He was about to lift the lid and see what's inside, before he felt David's hand stopping him as another battle was about to commence.

Still, after the series of war was over and he'd settled as a human, Price visited Egypt in 1996, adamant to get some clarity about the weird feeling he got when he was near that one specific sarcophagus. He went to the research facility where the objects found were examined and preserved.

Price then went ahead and asked one of the scientists about the object, and found out that the man inside was never an Egyptian man at all, rather a young man from an Ancient African kingdom, likely the Kerma Kingdom, who traveled to Ancient Egypt as an artist. The scientist surprised Price even more when he said that the man inside likely died around 1500 BC, which was 2700 years before Price himself died.

And he thought he was old.

As they approached the sarcophagus, the scientist left Price alone with the ancient object, as he thought this visitor wouldn't be able to lift the cover which was around 500 pounds or 226 kilograms.

Obviously, it was a small feat for Price.

The vampire lifted the lid and carefully placed the massive object on the floor, and for the first time, he saw the face of the dead man.

Even though he'd long died, Price could tell of the youth in his face. The face of an artist who'd traveled a long way to neighboring kingdoms in search of beauty and inspiration, seeking to sharpen his skills and broaden his knowledge more. Alas, he died a young man.

As he thought, Price felt the calling yet again, now louder from the absence of the lid. He first contemplated about touching such an ancient, possibly fragile object, thinking that it could contain some dark magic or any supernatural powers that were beyond his already vast understanding of the world. But whatever happened to him happened, he guessed. He's virtually uninjurable, and if he somehow died, then he died. End of story.

Finally, Price made up his mind, going ahead and touched the young man's cheek.

Yellow light started to surround the mummy's body, and gradually, the embalmed parts started to change– no, regenerate, forming a bronze coloured skin. His cheeks started to become fuller and fuller each second, the bony features of his arms and legs grew larger, forming a figure of a living human.

Price felt like he was about to faint. He couldn't even remember fainting in his lifetime, but he began to understand something. This mummy - this young man - was coming alive by taking Price's own life force.

Just when Price was about to fall, he released the young man's cheek and stumbled a few steps back. He witnessed as more bright golden light surrounded his body, and how a hand that was just a rigid limb before, began to move, albeit stutteringly, and gripped the edge of his own sarcophagus.

The young man slowly sat up, twisting his neck around like he just arrived on earth, before finding Price standing a few distance away. His eyes were golden, but the parts where it's supposed to be white were coloured solid black.

The young man emerged from his own coffin, very slowly putting his legs on the cold floor. He unsurprisingly fell to the ground like a stiff baby finding ways to manage with his body, before he stood up again, looking straight at Price through half bandaged eyes.

The undead started to walk very slowly towards the vampire, stuttering his movements as one of his hand lifted like he was reaching for him. Price stood up straight and activated his blood controlling power, attempting to stop this moving corpse in its track.

The vampire thought that he'd lost his ability to control blood. He thought because he hadn't consumed any human blood in decades, his power had weakened and even disappeared for good, but that was not the case.

Price couldn't see a single drop of blood inside the young man's veins. Nor his brain, nor his lungs, liver, and intestines. His torso was empty, save for his heart that was still inside his chest, yet the organ was not beating.

After 700 years of his life, Price had found an animate object that he totally cannot control.

The wonders of the world hadn't stop surprising him, huh.

Price, starting to feel fear after so long, could only stand still and let the young man approach him.

As his face got closer and closer, Price noticed that his face was not filled with terror or any negative intentions. It was filled with… happiness?

The young man was smiling.

His hands slowly cupped Price's cheek, and just then, Price began to feel his energy depleting rapidly. He's trying to take Price's life force again!

Reflexively, the vampire swatted the mummy's hands away (which was hard and heavy as a rock).

"What the hell are you doing?!" Price shouted to the young man. The mummy was taken aback by his statements, seeming like he got confused by Price's actions. Not only that, he proceeded to look down, observing his own body and limbs, which were still wrapped with bandages in some parts.

Suddenly, the young man looked at Price and rigidly hugged Price. The vampire was startled at first, thinking that he's about to take his life force again, but nothing happened. Just a simple, warm hug.

Something Price hadn't felt for centuries.

Just then, the sound of the door opening startled the both of them. It was the scientist that had come back to check on Price, and the utter shock on the scientist's face was priceless. The sarcophagus lid was open, and the mummy that was supposed to be dead was hugging the visitor with a grin on his face.

The scientist screamed in confusion and terror in Arabic, before Price slowed the man's heartbeat, prompting him to drop down to the floor in an instant in a sleeping state. The vampire cursed under his breath upon the situation that has fallen before him, and released himself from the mummy’s hug. He then ran towards the sarcophagus and put the lid back, and then he proceeded by carrying the sleeping scientist to some unknown room where he didn’t detect any other blood pulses - the storage room. After a few minutes, Price came back to the room where the mummy was, only to see that the mummy was nowhere to be found.

Price ran out of the room in search of the young man, stopping for a moment to detect the sound of any blood pulses of the mummy, but he exclaimed because he just realized again that that young man doesn’t have any pulse at all for him to detect. So Price began to run around the corner, finally finding the young man was looking up at the other sarcophaguses on display inside the facility, seeming like he’s enamored by the intricate engravings and colours.

Price gritted his teeth in frustration and approached the bandaged man, before fireman-carrying the mummy onto his shoulders. He then ran towards the exit of the facility with the newly reanimated young man, opening his rented car and sat him down to the passenger seat, before he himself sat on the driver’s seat.

Price huffed in relief, trying to make sense of what the actual fuck just happened to him. There’s a living mummy beside him, inside this fucking rental car.

“You, listen to me.” Price began, prompting the young man to look at him.

“You were dead for 2700 fucking years. Until today, you were still dead, but it looked like I was giving you my own life force so you can walk the world of the living again. So that means you’re alive because of me, you got that?!”

The young man only tilted his head in confusion. Of fucking course. He probably only spoke the ancient African and Egyptian language. He facepalmed.

“Okay, I know what if feels like to live again after dying. It’s confusing, but shite, not for 3 and a half millenias!” He shouted before taking a deep breath. “What do I call you? What’s your name?” The 710 year old asked the 3500 year old, his finger pointing at his chest.

That last word seemed to be familiar to the mummy, so he began to mutter some vowels out of his mouth. It looked like producing voice was still extremely hard for him.

“K–ka…”

“What? Ka? Speak clearly.”

“Ke…”

Ke? Kerma? That’s the name of the kingdom he was supposedly originated from.

After a few minutes of the same vowel coming out of the mummy’s mouth, Price began, “Ka. Ka. Kal.”

“Kyle. How about that?” The young man’s black and gold eyes widen. Price swore he saw a glimmering light from his eyes like he just heard his actual name, or at least one of the vowels of his actual ancient name.

“Yeah, you like that, Kyle?” The mummy nodded slowly. “Good. I’m about to give you one hell of a ride."

"Welcome to the living world, Kyle.”

---

Woohoo!! This became too long and even became a lore for Mummy!Gaz as well! Thank you so much for reading and hope you love it! ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

Leave a comment down below 👀

[katealpha]

Art by Zenny’s Club

https://x.com/clubzenny?s=21&t=Y5k0MmFAcnmbYxSfSGgVFA

———————————-—

It was great to be out of Pam’s strangling vines, thought Catwoman as she dropped onto the edge of a building from a guardrail above. Behind her was another, larger building that cast a shadow over the famed cat burger. It was the place that Selena had just made her way out of. An old brick built structure that was covered in emerald tendrils that bore blood red flowers. Practically the signature colors of former doctor Pamela Isley. Of course, everyone knew her as Poison Ivy, the ecoterrorist widely considered one of the deadliest women alive. Selena liked to believe she was somewhere on that list. Being able to clear rooms full of men bigger than herself had to count for something. Plus, she had just survived another brush with death

Just moments earlier, Selena found herself hanging upside down at Ivy’s mercy. Only due to necessity. Selena knew of a pair of cases locked away in the Arkham City vault. The newly opened open air prison had a place where the valuables of select inmates were kept. A place she couldn’t just break into on her own. Some force was needed, and with Bane locked up in a toy factory somewhere, Mr Freeze occupied by his popsicle of a bride, and Croc probably eating someone someplace in the sewers, Selena went with the only choice she felt was right for this. Selena expected the redhead to be mad at her for that one time she forgot to water her flowers during some getaway that the burglar had long forgotten, but what she didn’t expect was for Ivy to leave her with something before agreeing to help and let Selena on her merry way. While she was still upside down and before Ivy agreed to drop her, one of the free plant tendrils forced its way into Selena’s mouth, and she felt something pump down her gullet.

Selena wondered what that was about, still having the sour taste of chlorophyll in her mouth and a tingling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Selena spat to the side to get that taste out and then without further adieu, she kicked off the corner of the building, and with her whip she swung over the ice cold waters of the flooded portion of the so-called amusement mile. She was eager to get that loot that Ivy agreed to help her get her claws on, but had no idea what was already set in stone, and that a sour feeling on her tongue and TYGER Guards were going to be the least of her concerns that night.

Five minutes later

The feeling of her heels bashing the skull of a TYGER guard in was more than satisfying for Cartman as she dispatched the last of them that were sent to investigate the sudden vine attack on the storage facility door. Her green eyes watched the man fall limb onto the asphalt, sunglasses broken by the force of her kick. Everyone one of these pricks had it coming, thought Selena. In this quiet moment as sne stood over the manhole cover that led to the underground entrance of her destination however, she began to feel a little off. There was a sudden low groan that audibly bubbled in her lower abdomen. It was an intense enough feeling that it caused her to stop in her stride towards the sewer entrance and hold her clawed hand over her belly. Selena felt bloated. Like she had eaten leftover fast food earlier and her body was reminding her that, hey, fast food is bad for your lifestyle. The bloated feeling didn’t go away seconds later.

“Ugh, either you drank spoiled milk earlier, or Ivy put something really nasty in me. Better hurry up and get that plant back…” Selena muttered to herself before heading down the manhole with quick succession.

Once inside the tunnel, Selena surveyed the damage that Ivy’s vines had done. There were shattered bricks and bits of concrete laying all over the place which she found herself stepping over. Ahead was a series of holes in the walls that had been punched into wide enough to create a hole wide enough for Selena to simply walk through until she arrived at the front door. The storage facility was right there, and as she walked into the empty security room, another churn rippled through her gut. The feeling was a bit more intense this time. Had someone been standing next to her, they’d have heard the noise. Selena once again rubbed her hand against her stomach as she approached the camera feed. The vault was guarded by two armed guards, as well as an extra detail that patrolled the surrounding area that seemed to be a maze of halls and shelves. She sighed with relief as she saw that she’d be able to open the vault from here, though she’d need to obtain three key cards from the guards. It would be easy enough, assuming her raunchy stomach didn’t start acting up on the fly.

For the next several minutes, the guards patrolling the room were completely unaware of the latex-clad woman lurking above them. Not noticing as a gloved and clawed hand slipped into their pants pockets, pulling out each key card until she had three in hand. Once back in the security room, Selena began to use the card, ignoring the growing feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t let this sudden bloat slow her down. She was so close. All she could do was rub around again to soothe the rising pressure she felt inside. The last thing she needed was to be flatulent in close proximity to one of these armed guards as she was taking them out, because that’s what she would half to do in order to get inside that Vault. Soon, Selena jumped back into the fray, now set on knocking out every guard in the area before moving into the vault. As she moved about the facility, crawling through the vents, dropping onto guards, choking each one out, Selena could swear that she could feel her stomach pressing into her suit more than it usually did. Was she really bloating up here? The rumblings of her belly ironically coincided with the ground shaking around the facility, Protocol 10 already underway outside.

With the last guard dealt with, the vault was all hers. Her stomach wasn’t feeling much better or worse, but there was a constant gurgling sensation that persisted. In the table at the other end of the room were a pear of metallic painted cases, and a single potted plant. In a moment of sly spite for the one who had put her through so much trouble to reach her just hours earlier, she approached the plant and chuckled, picking it up.

“Try and tie me up in your plants, like hell.” Selena purred. With a smirk, she dropped it onto the floor where the pot shattered. She then stamped the dry soil and leaves for good measure. A chuckle in her throat.

Catwoman then came to realize that doing that may have been a bad life choice. As she approached the table again for the loot cases sitting upon it, a much stronger reaction took place in Selena’s gut. A deep, ominous churn roared from within, and the feeling was enough to make the thief lean over with a grunt. The bloated feeling exploded, and Selena felt her stomach pushing out and straining against her already skintight suit. Her back curved inwards and Selena turned her body to lean against the table, finally watching with wide eyes as her belly visibly grew outwards under her suit and desperately pushing hand, a futile attempt to make it stop. During this moment, her voice came out as gasps and grunts, her words lost in her throat until the growing stopped. Selena was now panting and sweating in shock, staring down at her belly which now looked like she was about to give birth to twins. It heaved in and out with her breath, and Selena finally found the will to at least say something to herself.

“What the hell??¦I shouldn’t have done that just now….what is happening to me…am I pregnant?…” Her frightened eyes wandered the expanse of her midriff. Inside, there was that constant gurgling, as well as a gentle shifting sensation. It felt like a bad dream, but there was nobody here to pinch her. Whatever Ivy had pumped into her body, it was growing, and it was alive, and somehow, her suit hadn’t ripped open yet despite the size of her stomach.

Before Selena could compose herself, more TYGER guards stormed the room, ready to apprehend her. They faltered, seeing her current state. One of the guards held up their radio to their cloth covered mouth.

“Professor, Catwoman seems to have undergone some kind of accelerated pregnancy since she’s been here.”

Strange’s deep and posh voice replied over the radio. “Most fascinating. Be sure to take her alive then. Perhaps there’s something more I can learn from her.”

Selena groaned and pushed off the table, bracing herself to fight again, now expecting to be weighed down by her new, massively bloated belly. She’d worry about what was happening once she got some more alone time. Pregnant with a plant monster or not, she wasn’t going quietly.

“You don’t say…don’t expect me to go any easier on you boys.” With a deep breath and clenched teeth, she extended her claws and took hold of her whip as the guards began to come closer.

To be continued…

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Sooo👀 I don’t know if you’ve already done something like this before or if you’re even willing to do something like it but I’d love it if maybe Johnny kept the reader as like a “pet”, making them wear a collar or just referring to them as his pet or his bitch or somethin LOL I’m down bad for this man🫦

Pretty Little Bitch

Contains; MINORS DNI, pet play but Johnny ain't playin', degradation, humiliation, smut, consentual-turns-noncon, baby trapping

••••

You no longer knew how long you'd been locked in that dingy, dirty shed, chained to the bedpost like some sort of animal. The chain was long enough for you to just barely reach the door, but you knew better than to try to leave. Kitchen knives were within your grasp, but you were a good girl. You would never hurt your master. After all, he was the reason you were still alive.

The thick chain clanked against the floor as you scrubbed the broken tile. Fought desperately to clean cigarette burns off the couch. Used hot soapy water on the dishes to scrub away the remnants of the last soul unfortunate enough to stumble upon Black Nancy's unassuming façade of a home. 

You always did what you were told. It's why you've managed to stay alive for so long. You even managed to delude yourself into feeling joy when the doorknob rattled and your captor entered the shack. 

You sat obediently on your knees waiting by the door, your body trembling with excitement. You hadn't seen Johnny for a while now, too long. He's your only contact, the only person you've seen in the months, perhaps years, that you've been at his mercy.

So when the door opens and his dirty brown shoe squeaks against the freshly scrubbed tile, you perk up. You don't raise your eyes—you’re too well trained for that—but you can't help your excitement.

“How's my pretty pet?” He asks. Without waiting for you to respond, he continues, “I brought you something.”

He takes some browned meat from a styrofoam container and tosses it in your food bowl by the couch. 

Cooked meat! He so often forced you to eat it raw. It smelled delicious, Drayton must have cooked it, Johnny doesn't cook and his mother would rather you starve than eat her cooking. 

“Thank you, master,” you said, still with your eyes on his shoes. “May I eat?”

You hadn't eaten anything but old canned beans and potatoes since the last time Johnny came home. You were so very hungry for meat.

“One more thing first.”

Johnny took your chin and raised your eyes to meet his. He was so, so beautiful. You drank in his features—his dark eyes, his greased dark brown hair, his smirk that made your thighs clench. You swallowed hard as you gazed reverently at him. 

Johnny pulled a smooth pink leather collar from his back pocket. 

“The woman at the pet shop asked about you. She asked your name, what breed you were, if there was some special occasion I was getting the collar for.”

He leaned over and placed the collar around your neck, snapping it in place and tightening it to where you'd never be able to ignore its presence. 

“I told her my bitch had been such a good girl I'd been thinking about breeding her.”

Your heart pounded so hard you felt your pulse racing against the soft leather. 

“What do you think, sugar? Have you been a good girl? Do you deserve to be bred?” 

You licked your lips, your eyes trailing down to his crotch, where his cock strained against his blue jeans. 

“Yes, master,” you said breathily. 

“Good girl. Go on and eat, now.” He released your chin and you crawled obediently over to your food bowl. 

Johnny watched you eat, undoing his jeans and stroking himself as he enjoyed the view of your tiny skirt failing to cover your bare ass. You always wore enticing clothing, it's what Johnny wants, after all. 

But you didn't expect his shoe to nudge your legs apart, nor did you think he would fall to his knees behind you. He'd never fucked you while you ate before, and you weren't sure what he expected. But since he told you to eat, you just kept on eating. 

The head of his cock met your entrance and you whimpered, but until he told you otherwise you were going to keep doing what he'd asked. 

It's harder to concentrate when he presses into you with a groan. Your hands curl into fists, and your knees tremble. It had been so long since Johnny came home, since he took you. He's going slow, savoring the feeling of your warmth enveloping him. 

You never expected he'd want to have a baby, and wondered what changed. He never treated you as more than a dog, so maybe he was just looking for something to keep you busy? After all, there's only so much you can do chained up in his shack. 

It isn't like you would ever ask, anyway. If you're lucky and he's in a good mood, he'll let you hum, but dogs don't speak until they're told.

“You miss me?” He asks, keeping himself deep inside you but not moving. 

“Y-yes, master,” you say, and he rewards you with slow strokes that hit you in all the right places. 

“Good. Good girl. Just focus on us, baby. I missed your pretty little cunt,” he says, one hand moving to circle your clit. 

You whimper and shove your food bowl out of the way to press your forehead against the cold tile floor. Your hot breath mists on the tiles, and when Johnny picks up his pace your moans tangle with his. 

You'd always been a good girl for Johnny. You never disobeyed. He never had to punish you. He was so so proud of you. You deserve to carry his baby, don't you? Then why are you crying? Why are your tears mingling with the heat and the sweat and the lust? 

Maybe bringing a baby into the world isn't the best idea. Maybe death would be better than subjecting another human to conditions like these. Maybe your mind isn't as lost as you thought. 

Maybe you're not okay.

“Quit crying, bitch,” Johnny growls, thrusting deeper into you. But you can't stop. Your tears are now wails, your sobs rattling against the old wood boards of the shack you've been trapped in for who knows how long. 

You hear a click, and then you are pulled up from the ground by your collar, cutting off your air.

You bring one hand to your neck and dig your nails in the tiny space between your flesh and leather, trying to bring some relief, but Johnny only pulls you up harder. You yelp and turn your head, seeing Johnny holding a pink leash around his fist, his free hand digging into your hip. 

“You're gonna have my baby, bitch, I don't give a fuck if you want to,” he snarls, driving into you so hard it's painful. 

“W-why? I thought you didn’t like kids?” You choke out through your tears.

Johnny presses his fist holding the leash between your shoulder blades, forcing you to bow, your cheek smashed against the tile. “Because you're mine, and I won't be taking care of them, you will.” He leans low, and whispers in your ear, “They better not turn out a little bitch like you.”

You sob, but it doesn't matter. You hate that, even though Johnny is fucking the life out of you, you still feel some perverse level of enjoyment from his attention. 

And when he floods your womb with his seed, you can't help but follow, cumming against your captor's cock. 

You realize then that you have to get out. You have to get out before it's too late, because you won't let another human being become as broken as you are, the poor little dog who only ever wanted love and attention. 

But as Johnny pulls out and your combined orgasms leaks from you, he tugs you up by the leash.

“If you try anything, I'll stab you in the stomach first,” he promises in a low whisper. He unhooks the leash and you fall forward, curling into a shaking ball.

You hear Johnny's heavy footfalls approach the door and unlock it, light flooding in when he pulls it open. 

“Finish your food, dumb bitch. You'll be seeing a lot more of me, promise you that.” He slams the door closed behind him, and your heart shatters.

You have to get out. 

You have to, but you know you can't. After all…

You're just a dumb bitch.

[bangtan-in-black]

VIVE LA RÉVOLUTION

Chapter 1: the beginning.

‘Many many years ago’

That's how most stories start, right? Stories that entail a damsel in distress unable to do as much as defend herself, or would be so ditsy as to leave her magical shoe behind.

Yes ‘many many years ago’ is used to tell stories, these olden folk tales. Stories that are told to make village daughters work for their happily ever after. A happily ever after in which all likelihood would never come to them. Would never arrive on the common girls doorsteps like they so desperately desired.

These are all they are, tales and stories promising a better future that would never come.

~~~~~~~~

Another day rises over the mor. The soft light awakens the village's inhabitants.

A tired sigh leaves your lips as you are one of the first to rise on this new day.

A dull ache remains at the bottom of your back from the injury acquired days ago, where you had slipped over a glistening wet rock on the way back uphill from the town market, on your way back to your workhouse.

The red lion workhouse.

Far from the life you'd heard and even imagined as a child hearing the stories of lower class peasants like you, as you were often called by nobles passing through the shacks and muddy barren fields. The peasants in the stories were able to leave their station with their gentry and noble husbands. A glint in their eyes as they walked towards their new life with their husbands. A ring on their finger and a life in the lap of luxury secured.

Time.

Time had been the one to slap that dream out of your head. The cruelest reality of all, indeed. The one where you realized that no prince on a white stallion would come riding up the mountains for you.

Any hope of that happening died that day, 15 years ago.

The moment the king's soldiers, the knights came to town.

They had stormed into your small village where your family lived. They came marching towards your shack, dragged your parents out of bed and mutilated them where they stood while they made you, their child watch on in horror as they were tortured and finally being thrown into the blazing flame that ate away at your home where you'd all lived.

Your tiny body held back despite the struggle against the stoney like hold of the royal pests holding onto you.

You screamed out for your parents to come back to you from the fire.

You were found in front of your burnt down home after the knights had ridden off into the dark distance.

Madam Rouge, the village wealthiest resident, was the one to find you after the tragic events of that night. Scandalous red lipstick painting her lips, the torch in her hands highlighted the gleam in her eager eyes, eyes eager to help.

She dragged you back to the red lion that night.

Her kindness was what kept you alive, but you were too young, too young and naive to realize her kindness came with a price.

Yes, that was something you soon learned. Everything came with a price.

Madam Rouge's greatest pleasure in life was dolling her girls up as if the young peasants were royalty.

You were a particular victim of this. Often being pulled away from the other girls working.

Madam rouge may have been many things, but cruel to the ones she took in was not one of them.

She was firm but fair.

She gave you and many other girls homes through the years. Food and water being given to you when you could've been lying dead in the streets.

The girls, of course, had to work for what they had. And you worked the hardest, so happy to be alive. To be given a chance to have a family again.

But of course with every good thing comes a bad, many of the girls found it unfair. These girls were Madam Rouge's least favorite girls.

Spoiled, entitled and quite frankly, dull.

Of course a woman of her refined elegance would not take kindly to such behaviors.

The morning sun poking through the windows with the worn wooden frames. This was truly a sight accustomed to you by now, a surefire way to know it was time for the workday to start.

Getting up before the rest of the girls had become pure routine by this point. It was something you'd always prided yourself on ever since you first came to the red lion workhouse, your work ethic outshined any others in the shared house of labour.

There was something about the way madam red looked at you when you did the job better than everyone else.

Pride. A pride strongly glistening in her dark brown eyes.

If such a thing was possible you'd even describe her gaze as shining. A genuine pride that she held for you made you feel worthwhile, it almost felt motherly.

Almost.

You knew she could never ever be your mother, and she didn't try to be but that didn't stop you from reaching for her highest praises. They were the closest thing you'd experienced to parental pride for 13 years.

The closest you'd have for the rest of your life.

Getting ready for another tiresome workday was as tantalisingly mundane, as usual. Throwing your H/L H/C hair up into a scruffy loose ponytail. The birds continued singing, the cows kept mooing.

Walking down the olden wooden steps that were practically breaking apart. First thing on the agenda today was to help feed the rest of the girls in the mess hall.

It seemed as if fate had other plans as you were distracted from your path to the kitchens by the mistress of the red lion herself. Lady Rouge, much preferring her former title of madam, but was still three times the lady compared to most snobby nobles.

“Y/N i thought that was you? Come sit with us for a moment dear, you deserve the break. A proper lady like you should never have calluses.”

That was something that had always confused you greatly. You were going to get calluses working in a workhouse, but Madam Rouge seemed to believe that you were the only one above working hard enough for calluses. You were also the only one she ever called a lady, you'd never thought to question why. It must be because you were the youngest girl she'd ever brought into the red lion. She still sees you as the baby she had taken in.

She sat there with her posture perfectly poised, sipping a sweet smelling tea from a delicately painted teacup. She was adorning her usual attire with her hat placed splendidly on the solid oak coffee table.

Sitting opposite her was a face you had not seen for almost a year and a half. A woman wearing a navy blue hanbok. Her outfit was sophisticated for the village, but you doubted that nobles from the capital would ever even set their eyes on the scruffy silk patterns embedded on the course material. The brunette smiled, her hands caressing her large stomach.

“Oh my! Congratulations” you smiled brightly, truly elated at the sight of one of the older girls from the house doing so well. Sylvia smiles, her eyes creasing in the corners as she takes a sip of an equally sweet smelling tea.

“Oh well it's a lot of work but it's worth it to raise a future knight.” Sylvia says excitedly but her excitement makes you pause.

“A knight?” you couldn't help but ask incredulously.

Sylvia's eyelashes fluttered as her gaze fell to you and her smile dissipated.

“Yes, a knight, my little boy is already so strong.” she said with a certain look in her eye and the way she spoke had an edge, a colder, more stern edge than before.

“Boy?” you asked again, a little confused as to how she was so sure of her baby's sex.

Sylvia's eye twitches as she forces an almost unbearably noticeable smile on her pale pink lips. “Yes, a boy. I would never dishonour my husband, the man who gives me such a good life by giving him a girl.” her eyes look down at you as if you had killed her unborn child. Her eyes were filled with something akin to pure hatred.

Madam Rouge smiles as if not noticing the newly tense atmosphere in the workhouse common room. “I knew you'd bring honour to the red household” Lady Rouge smiled brightly as if all the village's problems had just been solved.

You’d stopped paying attention by this point, too entranced by something that Sylvia had said earlier.

Many thoughts swirled around your head at once. But the one most prominent was the one screaming at you to take this woman's baby from her as she clearly had no regard for anyone other than herself and ‘honour’.

Of course you knew you couldn't really take her baby away, but it hurt your heart to know of the future that this child will be forced into. Never feeling enough unless he becomes a knight and brings his mother honour.

“You'd really wish for your son to become a knight? Even after the royal platoon burned our homes to the ground?” You were unable to keep your tongue to yourself it seems as the words that spill out of you cause a huge sense of panic at the realisation that you’d voiced your thoughts. The question was asked sharply, something whic clearly bothered the mother to be.

“Y/N, they burned your home to the ground, not mine. My son will do as I say and you will keep yourself out of my business because you are pathetic. You hold onto hatred of the people who govern us. They give us everything an youre still not grateful? . Spoiled brat, even after your parents died you had everything handed to you. Didn't have to do anything but be as pathetic as you are to become madams favourite." There was a sick enjoyment in her eyes as she spluttered off her filth.

A deep ashamed feeling creeps into your stomach as you mutter a quiet apology.

“That's right, respect your betters. I worked for everything I have. You're just a sad little girl whose parents died and so madam pitties you because of your losses. If I want my son to bring honour to his family, he will do as I say.” Sylvia felt a sick sense of pride seeing the tears gather in your waterline.

Madam rouges face, once painted with a pleased smile, turns to solid stone as she watches the exchange between her favourite and a former girl of hers.

“My son will even bring honour to you, everyone in this rat infested squalor in fact.” Sylvia sneers.

You thought that out of everyone that Sylvias would be the most likely to understand her stance and the horrid resentment that you held towards the royal knights. Sylvia's story was perhaps more harrowing than your own so you simply couldn't understand why she was jumping so gallantly to the knights defence.

“That's enough Y/N, go and get some eggs from the chickens and some milk.” Madam Rouge raises her voice bitterly, even as she spoke to you, her fiery gaze was trapped on Sylvia. “And Sylvia,”

The brunette perks up, foolishly expecting to be praised.

“I’d not speak of honour while you force your own desired future on your unborn baby, a future in which he's with people who slaughtered your whole family.” Both you and sylvia became silent at madam Rouges outburst. Her breathing now gone ragged.

“This is not how I raised either of you. Start behaving like the proper ladies I've raised. Sylvia id like to have a word with you before you go. Y/N you'll need not stay here or help to cook this morning, go and gather ingredients from outside." Madam Rouge huffs.

“Yes madam.” Y/N curtsies apologetically, before rushing to go to the chicken coop and cow pen.

The room suddenly becomes eerily silent. Madam rouge looks at Sylvia with her sharp cold eyes. Sylvia shivers as madam Rouges cold demeanour becomes altogether something much darker.

“She was always your favourite” Sylvia starts, wildly off put by Madam Rouge's new frightening demeanour, Sylvia couldn't describe it. But she felt unsafe in the presence of the sole woman who raised her, a feeling that she didn't like.

Madam Rouge goes to speak but she never gets the opportunity as she is barraged with Sylvia's sudden emotion.

“Don't deny it.” there's a long period of silence,

“If I've ever treated that girl differently it's because she's deserved it.” Rouge defends.

Sylvia's resolve cracks and she utters a quiet and croaky “why? What makes her different from me or any of the other girls that've been here over the years?” Sylvia indeed felt threatened.

Madam Rouge stands firm. “Have a safe trip home little one.” she says, already turned around, prepared to walk away.

“It's always been the same! Why her! I worked hard too! I lost my family too!”

Madam rouge stops. A manic smile paints her blood red lips as she turns around, launching her sharp cruel words like a bullet.

“She's simply more beautiful than you my darling. Always has been and always will be. Do you even know what a pretty penny she'd fetch in the world of nobles looking for sluts to add to their expensive collections? You'd never be worth a sixteenth of her price.”

Sylvia stares with an unplaced hurt.

“But my dowry-” she begins to argue

“Your dowry was nothing but a cruel joke. Alas I knew it was the best offer you were going to get. You are not the prettiest girl like you believe yourself to be.” Madam Rouge retorts, un bothered as she picks at her pristine nails.

Sylvia could only nod as she fought back tears. She took a deep breath and then left quickly out of the red lion workhouse and into her chief husband's carriage that awaited her. Ready and eager to take her back down the steep hill on which the red lion was situated.

Madam Rouges expression returns to peace.

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.11

Summary: You grew up in a crappy town with one friend who kept you going, everything started to fall into place, that’s until the world ended and the dead ruled the world, now you and your best friend Daryl Dixon had to stay alive but will you finally confess?

Warnings: This chapter contains light sh if you’re not comfortable don’t interact

Part.10

•Masterlist•

It’s been a few days since Daryl had left me to stay out god knows where with Merle, his brother who was an ass and always treated him like crap, he left and I had no more will to live, he was my anchor, I haven’t left the watch tower since I got up here I couldn’t find the effort to go down for anything

The door to the guard tower opened seeing it was Carl with Judith, coming and sitting next to me on the little makeshift bed

“Hey…..we miss you down there” he said smiling, he was such a sweet kid and ever since the incident with Lori he’s kind of clung to me but I didn’t hate it

“I’m fine here”

“Well I brought you some water and some cans of food” he said taking his back pack off and handing it over

“Thank you sweetie, sorry I’m not of any help right now, it’s hard to explain this feeling” I said as he placed little Judith in my arms

“It’s okay, I may not get it but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love, and I know how much you loved Daryl”

“I just miss him so much, I need him back” I said feeling my chest tighten trying to keep the tears at bay as I let Judith play around with my fingers

“If you’re soulmates you’ll meet again and from what I’ve seen you are just let him see what he’s missing and he’ll come running back for you” he smiled patting my shoulder

After some play time with Judith and a little chat with Carl he left having to change her and feed her, maybe Carl was right maybe I should go down for a bit it might clear my head, I left the guard tower making sure to cover all my cuts and saw Carol and the prisoner talking

“Hey y/n it’s good to see you” she said with that bright smile of hers

I just smiled and nodded still not feeling like my old self, the me that felt whole with Daryl, before the apocalypse I never was reliant on him like I am now but he’s still the man I love the man I’ve always loved, I can’t just bounce back to normal without the person I’ve had in my life since I was a kid

I wandered around the courtyard, picking up some stray garbage helping to clean up the place when there was a gun shot, I looked around frantic seeing Axel dead on the ground Carol hiding behind his body as more guns went off

I ran to go back to the watch tower hoping to get some cover but the distance was further than I thought and I didn’t know where the shots were coming from so I didn’t know if I was covered and that was quickly proven when that familiar feeling of stinging warmth flooded my body

I fell to the ground right as I got to the watch tower dragging myself inside somehow, slumping down on the stairs looking at the blood gushing down my chest and right arm, a bullet gone right into my shoulder, the blood oozing out quickly making me lightheaded fast from my low iron

I ripped off a piece of my shirt struggling to wrap it around my shoulder and tying it off tight to help the bleeding, I laid back against the stairs feeling weak, the sound of blood pumping in my head by body exhausted

The gun fire had ceased and I heard the others outside scared trying to figuring out everything that happened

I tried to kick the door open but it was no use, my vision was starting to blur and become spotty

Daryl’s POV

“Where’s y/n?” I asked looking around not seeing her Carol or T.dog

“Last I saw she was trying to run back to the watch tower she’s been staying in” Carl said pointing over to the tower me and her always stayed in on our turns

“Damn” I grunted running across the court, Carl and Maggie right behind me as I yanked the door open, the sight making my heart stop

Normal POV

Voices around me, faces blurred but the closer it got the more I knew it was Daryl as I was gently picked up

“D….Daryl” I spluttered out

“I’m here sunshine”

Then everything went black

Daryl’s POV

I ran with her in my arms to the cell block laying her down next to Hershel as he yelled for the others to get his supplies

“Will she be okay?” I asked focusing on all the blood covering her, I should have never left why the hell did I leave

“We gotta stop the bleeding, with her being anemic she’s gonna have a harder time lasting with all this blood lose but I’ll do all I can” he said as he pressed down hard, after it stopped he pulled out the bullet stitched her up and sterilized it then bandaging her wound

“She’s bleeding on her leg too” he said noticed blood that had seeped through her jeans, I was hesitant but her health was more important so I pulled her jeans down enough for us to see what was causing the bleeding here and it finally broke me because this was my fault and I knew it, Hershel looked at me with worried eyes then went to clean them

I moved her to our bed on the perch and waited for her to wake up, hoping she woke up, I can’t believe this happened to her again in the span of a year, shot twice my sunshine the girl who’s stuck by me always making sure I was okay and now I’m the reason she hurt herself, the reason I wasn’t here to protect her

I gently peeled her out of her blood soaked clothes and put her in a spare shirt of mine and some looser jean shorts that covered her cuts, I found a clean rag and a bucket of water and cleaned off her face and any dirt that had accumulated on her body

I hope she come back to me soon

Normal POV

My head was pounding and everything was so bright and hazy

“Fuck” I groaned trying to cover my eyes but shoot pain through my shoulder

“Hey yer awake” I heard from beside me, I tried to focus and his face came into view, it was Daryl

“Am I dead? Or did you come back” I asked running my hand on his scruffy face

“ ‘m back I shoulda never left” he said filled with guilt

“Why would you go Daryl, I’ve always been there………you promised”

Part.12

Will y/n forgive Daryl or will she be scared he’ll hurt her again

Taglist: @deansapplepie @ghostboneswrites2 @willowshadenox @thebadbatch2022 @writer-ann-artist @i-wear-wet-socks313

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Emerald Hallow Chapter 7

Summary: Steve Rogers wants to move on.  He wants to forget Peggy, and dive into the 21st century.  But this man of the past doesn’t know how to navigate being an Alpha in a modern world of skittish Omegas.  He prides himself on his self control, never wanting to harm or scare them, until something just smells too damn good…and he’s not the only one who notices.  

**plus size reader 

Warnings: abo!dynamics, smutty smut smut, name calling, eventual threesome, voyeurism, rough sex

Previous chapter Next chapter

Two days later Bucky came home, nearly breaking the door down.  “The fuck was that?” he yelled at Steve when he opened the door.  He pushed him against the wall next to the door, bringing himself toe to toe with him.  His dark stare would have scared anyone else shitless, but Steve could see the hunger beneath.  “Sending me a video like that while I’m on a mission.  What were you trying to do, get me killed?  What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong, Buck?  Jealous I could make her do things you can’t?” Steve asked teasingly, his eyes flickering from Bucky’s eyes to his lips and back.  

Bucky’s huffed breaths spread across Steve’s face, his nose flaring.  “You’re still in your rut.”

“Almost over,” Steve grunted.

“Bucky?” Y/N’s strained voice called from the bedroom.  His head snapped toward it, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Why does she sound like that?” Bucky asked.

“Like what?” Steve said, looking confused.

“Small,” Bucky said simply, pushing away from him.  “What did you do?  Fuck the fire out of her?”

Steve blinked.  He thought back over the last few days of his rut.  She had pushed him so far he’d gone feral and had barely let her leave the bed.  His eyes widened.  “Fuck.”

Bucky was already walking down the hallway, stopping at the doorway and inhaling sharply.  “Oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped before swiftly approaching the bed.  She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, her hair a matted mess, her eyes shining with unshed tears and small bruises from fingerprints, bite marks and hickeys littering her skin.  “Oh honey, Jesus…”

“I’m okay Buck.  It’s my fault,” Y/N said shakily.  “I teased him too much.  I made him feral.”

“Feral?” Bucky scoffed.  “Let’s get you cleaned up.”  He reached over and pulled her out of the bed and headed towards the shower.  As her body scrunched a sputtering sound came from her legs.  Bucky looked down and saw a puddle of cum dripping from her.  “For fuck’s sake,” he growled then got her into the bathroom.

Steve watched on in worry.  He’d taken it too far.  He’d lost control.  His rut-riddled brain had just urged him to take, take and take again.  He couldn’t remember how many times he’d cum, knotted her, made her cum until she was begging him to stop, but he just kept going until he felt fulfilled.  How selfish.

Bucky got the water running and helped her sit on the bench in the shower then went back out.  He marched past Steve to the kitchen, grabbing some of the fruit in the fridge and making a quick sandwich and filling a water bottle.  He came back into the bedroom and glared at Steve before shutting the bathroom door with a resounding thud.  Steve broke down, sitting on the cum encrusted sheets of his bed and hanging his head in his hands.  What had he done?

After an hour Bucky carried Y/N out of the bathroom.  She was wrapped in the robe she left at Steve’s apartment.  She looked a lot better, cleaned up and the food had done wonders in making her look more alive.  “Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Steve said sadly, trying to touch her.  Bucky moved her away from him, a warning rumble in his chest.  Steve stopped himself from growling at Bucky in retaliation and shook his head.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t realize I’d lost control.  That’s never happened to me before.  I’m just…I’m so sorry,” he cried.  He sniffled pathetically as Y/N watched him.  She gestured for Bucky to put her down, which he did on the now clean bed after Steve had stripped the sheets while they were in the bathroom, but not moving far away from her.  She reached a hand out and Steve closed the space between them, taking her hand and kneeling in front of her by her knees.

“I’m sorry Steve.  I was hurt, and I took it too far,” Y/N sighed.  She reached her other hand out and cupped his cheek, which he quickly nuzzled.  “I didn’t mean to make you feral.”

“I know,” Steve whispered and kissed her palm. “Please forgive me, Omega.  My love,” he kissed both her palms and sniffed her wrists, which he grimaced at because she smelled almost completely of him.  A few more tears fell from his eyes and she scratched his beard with her fingers.

“I forgive you,” she hummed.  She pulled his hands up and kissed his knuckles.  She then turned to look at Bucky.  “Right?”

Bucky inhaled deeply and exhaled heavily, his eyes still boring into Steve.  Steve looked at him, hoping he was conveying just how awful he felt.  “You hurt our mate,” Bucky accused sharply.

“I know, I did,” Steve sniffed again, his lips trembling.  “I’ll never forgive myself, please…”

Bucky’s eyes shut tight.  “I forgive you, I’m just still angry.”

“I’m angry with myself.  I got carried away.  I didn’t even realize it was so…so bad,” he sputtered, kissing Y/N’s hands again.  He wound his arms around her middle and squeezed her, burying his face into her stomach.

“It’s okay, I’m okay Steve,” she reassured him, her hands running through his hair and scratching his scalp.  “We’ll be okay.”

***

The next few months were a work in progress.  They all had to iron out the specifics of the relationship, define their boundaries and communicate openly with each other.  The war was over, and Y/N healed quickly.  Steve was still extremely upset and even more guarded than before, being very careful to not let himself lose control.  Bucky had eventually been able to get past the fact that Steve had inadvertently hurt Y/N, but was still very protective of her.  Learning to share in a dynamic like theirs was new for all of them, and it would take time and practice to perfect.

On a warm spring night Y/N came home from the club.  Bucky would be home from a mission any day and Steve would be accompanying him since he’d consulted on the mission at the Avengers compound.  She had been feeling the stirrings of her heat coming on for the last week, her hormones raging and her body aching as it prepared itself.  She had been nesting like a madwoman.  After she and Bucky had officially moved into Steve’s apartment so they could all be together she had been rearranging the furniture, creating little nests in every cozy spot and corner she could find.  Since the others had been gone she had free reign and used it to her advantage.

Her body was overheating, sweat forming along her hairline as she stripped out of her clothes and tunneled into the nest of blankets, pillows, and Bucky’s and Steve’s clothes she’d created on the bed.  She had turned the air conditioner up, chugging two bottles of water before burrowing.  She texted them both to let them know it was starting, so if she didn’t answer them it was because she was otherwise preoccupied.  Y/N laid down and grabbed the nearest shirt to her and inhaled sharply, recognizing Bucky’s scent at the neckline and moaning as she bit the collar, her hand trailing down in between her legs.

[hbyrde36]

It's Only Forever

A final heartfelt thanks to @penny00dreadful for everything you do and for always having my back! 😘💜

R: Mature | WC: 5793 | | Ch 8/8 | Read on AO3

[Penny Art - Eddie's Introduction] [Penny Art - The Ball]

[SissayeRys Art Link]

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

Chapter 8: Home At Last

Eddie sighed dramatically as he stared up at the vaulted ceiling of his bedchamber.

He’d been tossing and turning for hours, unable to quiet his troubled, restless mind. 

After a lengthy walk around the castle grounds, and a conversation with Dustin that Eddie had so badly wanted to eavesdrop on…

He hadn’t, for the record, out of respect, but the temptation hadn’t been easy to resist.

…Steve had come back to the castle and said he needed to sleep on it. Saying very little else before retiring for the night.

Another practice in restraint, Eddie had sent up food, fresh clothes, and a basin of clean water to Steve and Dustin’s guest-quarters with a few goblins—the three Dustin had grown so fond of—rather than take it to them himself like he wanted. 

It would have been the perfect excuse to catch another glimpse of the other boy, but Eddie didn’t want to force his company when Steve had so clearly expressed the desire for time and space.

He was determined to stay on his best behavior, doing everything he could to prove to Steve that he was more than the act he’d been putting on. He’d even gone out to meet Argyle and Jonathan earlier, where they still waited at the bottom of the castle steps, and introduced himself. He let them know, in no uncertain terms, that he meant them no harm, that Steve, Dustin, and Robin were now his guests, and that they were welcome in the castle too.

The unusual pair, who inexplicably introduced themselves as brothers, took him up on the offer, and were even now sharing the last of the spare rooms in the castle.

Chrissy invited Robin to bunk with her. No surprise with the way Eddie had seen them looking at each other, after the two had already spent hours with their heads bent together poring over books and scrolls, giggling behind their hands whenever he walked by.

Eddie was happy for them, even if it meant that he was now spread out in the middle of his giant bed alone, with nothing and no one to distract himself from his own thoughts, or help him forget that Steve was right down the hall. 

So close, and yet completely out of reach. 

It wasn’t an outright rejection, or so he kept telling himself, trying desperately to keep hope alive in his heart. Steve was still there, after all. That had to mean something, right? But still, it was hard not to fall into the pit of despair. 

Because really, why on earth would Steve want anything to do with him now?

No matter how well they seemed to fit together. 

If it was just a physical thing, Eddie could have probably let it go, but he didn’t only appreciate Steve’s body, he was attracted to his fucking soul. 

Who he was at his very core.

And who Steve was, was kind and caring, loyal to a fault, but also quick-witted and catty, in the best way. He was, too, a bit conceited and cocksure, but he had the cunning to pull it off.

Most of the time. 

He loved with his entire being.

He was as brave and smart as Dustin had claimed, and absolutely everything Eddie could have hoped to find in a— 

Boyfriend? Lover? Partner? 

No word properly encapsulated all of what Eddie wanted from Steve now. None of them quite hit the mark of describing just how deep he’d fallen.

Giving up on the idea of sleep, Eddie got out of bed, wrapping himself up in a long black silk robe. 

He’d worn nothing to bed, never did unless Chrissy slept over, save for the necklace that made this life of his possible—the unusual pendant given to him by the last goblin king, a powerful amulet which allowed him to wield the powers of his position, now split into two halves of that formerly single whole.

He wondered if maybe he should have waited until Steve gave his final answer to make them, but he’d wanted Steve to know he was serious, that he meant it.

Forever.

Those twin rings resting against his chest bore much more than a physical weight. They were a tangible promise of either pain and heartache, or, the greatest happiness he’d ever know.

The castle was quiet when Eddie slipped through his door, padding up and down the long hallways on bare feet. Without meaning to, he found himself heading for the atrium, drawn to the place where he’d finally laid himself bare before Steve.

It was somewhere peaceful to sit and think, or to maybe try to stop thinking at all, but it was also a place he could go to feel close to Steve without actually bothering him.

Or maybe not? 

The space was full of shadows as Eddie entered, dimly lit with the soft flickering light of a few sconces dotted along the curved walls, and the only sound to be heard was the tranquil trickling of water into the central pond.

Eddie breathed deep, taking in the scent of night air mixed with the heady perfume of all the exotic flowers in bloom.

He was halfway around the room when he spotted someone sitting on one of the benches. The familiar figure’s head was tilted up to the sky above, admiring the glittering expanse of stars.

His back was to Eddie, but somehow he knew Eddie was there all the same. 

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Steve said without turning around. 

Eddie wasn’t sure if he should intrude or not, but Steve hadn’t told him to go, so hesitantly he approached, rounding the front of the bench just as Steve’s eyes fell to meet his. 

Steve wore a long white linen nightshirt that fell to barely mid-thigh, and Eddie tried hard not to think about whether he was wearing anything under it or not as he raised his eyebrows asking silent permission. 

Only after Steve nodded did Eddie sit down, careful to leave a polite amount of space between them. 

They sat together for a long while in the quiet dark, watching the night go by through the wide, open ceiling. It was impossible for Eddie to look up at the view and not think of their steamy rendezvous on the terrace, and wonder if Steve was remembering too.

It was again Steve who eventually spoke first, blowing out a long shaking breath before breaking the increasingly heavy silence between them. “You’d think after such a long and difficult day sleep would come easy.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie whispered, and as the words passed his lips his heart fell, realizing he never really did apologize properly for what he’d done. 

“I’m so sorry, Steve. I tried to tell myself that I was just doing my job, what I was put here to do, and that was true to an extent but—” Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he let his head fall into his hands, cheeks growing wet. 

“I was—” he sniffled, rubbing roughly at his face before looking back up to meet Steve's eyes again, “—so angry, for such a long time. I resented my dad for abandoning me, for not trying harder, or at all, and I let that color my perception. I took it out on you, and you didn’t deserve that.”

Steve was quiet for a long beat, until slowly, ever so slowly, he raised a hand, reaching out to brush away a stray tear from Eddie's cheek.

Eddie’s breath hitched.

“You did what you thought you had to do. If anyone can understand that, it’s me.” 

“But—” Eddie started to argue but Steve’s fingers drifted down his face, letting the same thumb that had dried his tears now rest against his lips, gently silencing him.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, his steady gaze piercing, demanding Eddie’s full attention with that single soft word. “I don’t regret it. Any of it. I'd go through it all again. It’s like you said, without all this I never would have come here. I wouldn't know that I was capable of so much more than what my parents wanted for me. I wouldn’t have met Robin, or Argyle, or Jonathan. 

“Or you��”

Steve let him go, and before Eddie could mourn the loss of his touch, Steve was moving closer, the lines of their legs pressing together as he gathered up both of Eddie’s hands in his own, lacing their fingers. “And I'm sorry about your father. I’m sorry if he ever made you feel for even one second that you weren’t worth fighting for. Because you are, Eddie. You’re worth everything.”

Their faces were suddenly so close, Eddie hadn’t realized he was leaning in until their noses nearly brushed. 

“Steve?”

Eddie didn’t even know what he was asking but Steve gave the barest of nods, and in the space of a blink they were kissing. He wasn’t sure who had actually closed the distance between them, but it didn’t matter. The second Steve’s lips touched his, Eddie was as lost in it as he had been that very first time. The rest of the world simply fell away, narrowed down to warm hands gripping tight, and desperate tongues sliding together.

He was left gasping, drowning in desire as Steve ducked to kiss down his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Then Steve’s hands were gone, leaving Eddie untethered for a terrifying moment, until they wrapped around his waist instead, lifting him up and over until he straddled Steve’s lap.

Eddie’s robe fell open with the movement. All that was left between them was the very thin cottony fabric of Steve’s nightshirt, leaving no more question as to whether Steve had anything on underneath.

He… did not, and that knowledge, along with the air hitting his suddenly bare front, set Eddie’s blood on fire.

Steve continued his assault on Eddie’s neck, grinding his hips up as his touch began to wander south, caressing Eddie’s ass and thighs.

“W-wait—” Eddie forced out, pulling back, and pulling his robe back around himself as best he could.

Steve’s brows pinched together in concern. “What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t think I can do this if it’s only for tonight.” Eddie smiled down at Steve sadly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his forehead. As much as he wanted this, it would make it all the more painful if—and let’s face it, when—Steve decided to leave.

“I’m not rushing you to make a decision. I told you to take all the time you need and I meant it, but I don’t want to know the taste of your body if I'm going to have to say goodbye to you tomorrow.” He tried to slide off of Steve’s lap but found himself pinned in place by the other boy’s unwavering grip. 

“You won’t have to,” Steve said, his voice a little strained, but steady.

“Do you mean..?”

“Yes, I'm saying yes.”

Eddie’s heart leapt, hope threatening to bloom in full, but still he cradled Steve’s face, tilting it up to look for any sign of doubt there. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been sure since almost the moment you asked.”

“Oh, I see,” Eddie’s face spread into a wide, wild grin as he wound his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “You’ve just been enjoying knowing I was going crazy then?”

“Maybe,” Steve smirked, pecking him on the tip of his nose. 

“Brat.”

They kissed again, and as much as Eddie tried to hold back it wasn’t long before he found himself filling with heat, the same heat he saw reflected back at him through Steve’s half-lidded eyes. At this rate Steve wouldn’t even get to see the inside of Eddie’s bedroom, their shared bedroom now, he supposed, before finding their pleasure together here, out in the open in the center of the castle. 

Eddie couldn’t wait to show Steve all that they shared now, from his favorite parts of the Labyrinth, to the fun they could have with the powers they both possessed. 

“Wait—” Eddie broke the kiss and wrenched himself back, panting, pressing a hand to Steve’s chest when he tried to chase after him.

Steve groaned, letting his head fall with a light thunk to the back of the bench. “You’re killing me here.”

Taking far too much pleasure in torturing them both, Eddie cackled, leaning back to untie the cord around his neck. He pulled, letting the two rings slide off the end to land in his palm.

“Oh,” Steve breathed, sitting up a little straighter.

Eddie picked up the gold ring with his other hand, raising his eyebrows in another silent bid for permission.

With wide eyes Steve bit at his swollen bottom lip, offering up his hand. 

Eddie slipped the ring into place.

It was a perfect fit.

Without hesitation Steve plucked the remaining silver ring from his palm, and in an infuriatingly good impression of Eddie’s own mannerisms, raised an eyebrow.

And oh, was Eddie going to enjoy taking him apart later. 

He flipped his hand over, offering it in the same fashion Steve had, and felt everything—his past, present, and future—click into place as Steve slid the silver ring home. 

Home.

The castle had never felt like a place he was meant to be, but now, with Steve’s solid form beneath him, holding him, and the people they both cared about most sleeping peacefully upstairs—

Yeah, home sounded about right.

Miraculously, they did manage to make it to Eddie’s—their—bed before their mutual displays of affection went too far.

And when the morning came, as though it had been some sort of premonition and not a wild fantasy, it was exactly as Eddie pictured.

Far too distracted with learning the curves and planes of his love’s body, Eddie hadn’t thought to close the drapes. He’d been half asleep, drifting in and out while basking in the afterglow of round two, but at the first sign of sunrise he forced his eyes open to watch the soft golden rays of early sun, shining in through the wide windows, dance over Steve’s sleeping form half-hidden beneath the bed sheets.

Which was a crime, frankly. 

After seeing, touching, and tasting every square inch of him last night Eddie longed to make a royal decree that Steve should be nude at all times.

Though he suspected as an equal ruler Steve would probably veto that idea.

Which was probably for the best, uncomfortable working conditions for the goblins and all that—and the fact that their friends probably wouldn't appreciate it much.

As Eddie watched Steve began to stir, rolling over so the light now fell on his bare face and chest. A truly magical sight even without the rings they wore.

Hazel eyes blinked open slowly, a syrupy sweet smile spreading over Steve’s face as he gazed up at Eddie, reaching for him, tucking a clump of frizzy curls behind his ear.

Eddie leaned into the touch as Steve lingered to caress his cheek, nuzzling his palm before turning his head to press a kiss in the middle of it.

“Everything alright, baby?” Steve asked, his voice sounding more than a little wrecked and not only from sleep.

Eddie shivered at the memory, and it might have had him considering a round three if he didn’t know how tired they both still were. Instead he settled himself back down, nestling his head in the crook of Steve’s neck, and resting his hand in the middle of his chest, fingers raking through the soft swath of hair.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Everything is perfect.”

It turned out the rules Eddie had spent so much time and energy worrying over, afraid that if he broke them it might somehow break their realm all together, were more like loose guidelines.

With Robin’s help, Chrissy was finally able to put more of the pieces together, and it seemed that Eddie, and now Steve and Eddie as one, could do basically whatever they wanted, and had the power to back it up. 

“Within reason, of course,” Chrissy had warned.

Most importantly, They could take Dustin home, secure in the knowledge that they could bring him back to the Labyrinth to visit whenever he wanted. 

Steve had agreed to give the boy one more day—to play with his friends, get to know Robin, Argyle, and Jonathan, and to say a proper goodbye to them all before returning to the real world. Any longer and it would be even more of a mess to clean up with their parents, Steve was sure.

“How will we keep in touch with each other?” Dustin asked Steve, as they, along with Eddie, Chrissy and Robin gathered in the atrium, the place everyone agreed would be the best point in the castle for traveling between worlds. “I guess it’s too much to hope cell phones will work between realms so we can text and facetime?”

Eddie hadn’t really thought about that. How would they communicate with Steve’s little brother to make plans for the future? Popping in on him randomly could prove tricky.

Steve turned to him with a frown and concerned eyes, and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Don’t worry, um, I-I’ve got just the thing,” Eddie stepped around Steve, rubbing a comforting hand across his lower back before crouching down in front of Dustin, where the younger boy sat on one of the thick velvet floor cushions.

“Here,” he said, holding out his hand, empty one second, and the next cradling one of his oft-used crystal balls.

Looking both awed and dubious, Dustin carefully took it from Eddie’s hand. “B-but I don’t have any magic.”

Right. 

Okay, no problem. 

There’d been no spell to follow when Eddie created his and Steve’s rings, but he’d wanted it enough to make it happen. This was no different. He could do this. 

Leaving the crystal in Dustin’s grip, Eddie covered the boy’s hands with his own, and let his eyes fall shut. He thought of love and family, and the desire to stay connected no matter the time, distance, or circumstances. The desire to see and hear those most dear. He remembered the determination Steve had shown in his effort to do whatever he had to to get Dustin back, had that feeling fill him and the ball, let it shape the magic. 

“Can you feel it?” Eddie whispered, for Dustin’s ears only.

“Yes,” the boy breathed, his words coming just as softly. “It feels like Steve. How I feel when I think about him.”

“Good,” Eddie said, opening his eyes. He released his hold on Dustin and stood, reaching down to ruffle the boy’s hair. “You tap into that and look into the ball whenever you want to see or hear him, and if you hold it up to your lips and talk he’ll be able to hear you too.”

“What about Steve? What if he needs me and I don’t know it?”

“We have other crystals. I gave you Present, but there’s still Past and Future up my sleeve. I’m sure I could tweak them somehow.”

“There’s also this,” Chrissy said, pulling a large leather-bound book out from behind her back. She offered it to Steve. “I found it the first time Eddie left me alone in the library.” 

“What is it?” Steve asked, carefully cracking it open and thumbing through what, at first, looked to be empty pages.

“As far as I can tell, it’ll show you just about anything. Movies, television shows, real events. All in writing, obviously, so I hope you’re a reader, including writing a story in real time of what’s happening à la The Neverending Story… kinda?”

Eddie sputtered. “I’ve been asking you what your secret was for years, and Steve waltzes in here and you tell him in a matter of days?!”

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at him and shrugged. “Sucks to suck.”

Steve was still flipping through pages, eyes flying over the words as they appeared while he smiled to himself. He flipped a few more as Eddie watched, until his face abruptly fell into a deep frown.

“Shit, Dusty,” he said, snapping the book shut. “The police were at our house. Mom and Dad filed missing persons reports. They think we were kidnapped or-or murdered, or something. We need to get you back there, now.”

Steve handed the oversized tome back to Chrissy with a nod of thanks, and turned to face Eddie. “How do we do this?”

“Together,” Eddie replied simply, reaching out with his ringed hand to take hold of Steve’s. “Dustin, take our other hands, so we’re all connected.”

The younger boy rose, uncharacteristically quiet as he slipped the crystal ball into his pocket and joined them. 

“Be careful,” Chrissy said, blowing a kiss in their direction. 

“You better bring him back in one piece, Munson,” Robin added, coming up behind Chrissy to wrap arms around her waist. 

Eddie knew he was going to regret telling her his full name. 

With Eddie steering, and honestly not having much more practice with this travel magic than anyone else, they landed together in the same spot Eddie had entered the first time—Dustin’s window. 

Which of course was not big enough to hold all of them. The three crashed to the floor, off balance, banging into Dustin’s desk, and loudly knocking over several empty cans of Mountain Dew in the process.

In seconds footfalls began pounding up the steps of the house, headed their way.

Eddie lurched to his feet, helping Dustin up before grabbing for Steve’s hand, a question poised on his lips, but Steve shook his head before he could even ask. 

The plan had been to just leave Dustin in his room and go, so Steve wouldn’t have to deal with his mom and stepdad. Dustin was prepared with a whole story about how his older brother had run away, and how he had gone off to find him and got lost, but it seemed Steve had other plans now. 

“Stay here,” Steve said, pressing a kiss to the top of Dustin’s head, “Love you, bud. We’ll see each other again soon,” before crossing the room in a flash, flinging the bedroom door open and marching out into the hall with Eddie following close behind.

“Steven?!” A woman, Steve’s mother, gasped, slowly making her way towards them from the other end of the hall, a man who could only be the infamous stepfather Gary lumbering behind her. “What on earth—where have you been? Is Dustin—” 

“In his room, safe and sound,” Steve answered calmly.

“Was this your doing?” Gary asked, with the sort of attitude Eddie desperately wished to wipe off his face the old fashioned way.

“Yes,” Steve admitted. “It was an accident, but I’m sorry we were gone so long. Don't blame Dustin, it was all my fault.” 

“Where have you been?” Steve’s mother asked. 

She, at least, looked mildly concerned and relieved to see her son.

“I-I’ve been—” Steve took a deep breath, and reached back blindly for Eddie’s hand. He gave it, coming to stand next to his sweetheart. “I’ve been miserable. I’ve spent my whole life lying to myself, listening to the two of you and your bullshit. I went along with all of it because it was easier than sticking up for myself, and figuring out what I really wanted. But I know now. I've learned more about who I am, and who I want to be in the last forty eight hours than I was ever able to under your roof. I found where I belong.” He glanced over at Eddie, smiling and pulling him into his side.

Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist possessively, staring the dumbstruck couple down with unwavering eye contact.

“I’m leaving,” Steve went on. “Moving out.”

“With him?” Steve’s mother squeaked.

Steve’s jaw tightened as he replied. “His name is Eddie.”

“Steven, you cannot be serious about running off with this… this… freak!”

Steve bristled at his side but Eddie threw his head back and laughed. Some things never changed, no matter how many years had passed. He wasn’t even wearing one of his elaborate costumes, he’d put on his own old clothes again in an effort to blend in, on the off chance they were seen. 

“Oh Gary, if you’re gonna flirt with me at least wait until your stepson is out of earshot,” Eddie purred, raising his eyebrows. “Not to mention your wife.”

Steve snorted.

Gary, aside from being so angry he was rapidly turning purple, did his best to ignore him, addressing Steve only. “Your mother and I won't allow you to throw your future away like this!”

Which only made Eddie want to poke at him more. “With all disrespect, Steve is an adult. He’s eighteen and legally you have no power over him.”

Steve’s parents had no power over him in any sense of the word, actually, but Eddie figured that knowledge was best kept between himself, Steve, and Dustin.

“Fine,” Gary snapped, “but Steven, if you walk out that door now don’t think we’ll let you come crawling back when this miscreant kicks you to the curb. I will not have you waltzing back into our lives to corrupt Dustin.”

Steve seethed, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as the lights above their heads began to flicker. 

Eddie rubbed his cheek along Steve’s shoulder, urging him without words to stay calm. 

Thankfully, while they glanced up at the fixtures with furrowed brows, Steve’s so-called parents didn’t seem to understand what was happening right in front of them. 

Typical.

Steve took a deep calming breath before he spoke, the lights returning instantly to normal. 

“I—we, will see Dustin as often as we like, and you will not try to control him the way you did me. He’s smarter than all of us. He doesn't need you to tell him who to be. You let him live his own life or so help me you will not like the consequences. And I’ll know, trust me on that.”

Gary grit his teeth, but turned and stormed off without another word, smart enough to know when the battle was lost. 

Steve’s mother just stood there, watching silently as Steve pulled on Eddie’s arm, leading him to his bedroom. 

Steve had started to pile things Eddie assumed he wanted to keep on the bed, when his mothers voice came from the doorway.  

“Where you’re going, you’ll be happy there?”

Steve’s shoulders stiffened for a moment but he turned to look at her, face pinched in confusion. “Yeah.”

She nodded, wringing her hands in front of her looking down and then away as she spoke again. “Make sure you pack your coat. You know you get cold so easily.”

Every part of Eddie itched to protect him, to step in and tell this woman that Steve wouldn’t need a fucking coat where they were going, that Eddie would give him whatever he needed—whatever he wanted. Hell, that Steve could take care of his own fucking self! 

Until he saw the way Steve was looking back at her, the way his face had softened, a bit of the tension in his shoulders easing as he did. 

And Eddie thought, maybe it wasn’t about the coat at all. 

“I will. Thanks, mom.”

She looked up, eyes swimming and moved for a second as though she would go to him, but stopped herself, giving her eldest son a tight-lipped smile before turning to go, heading for Dustin’s room.

“You okay?” Eddie asked.

Steve gave a small nod, clearing his throat. “How should I..?” He asked, gesturing at the small mound of possessions he’d collected, mainly clothes but also a few books and photos, and a shoebox full of small items rattling around inside. 

Eddie took Steve’s ringed hand, connecting them just as he had before, knowing now how much stronger they were together, and raised his free hand high in the air. With a simple snap of his fingers everything on the bed vanished. 

Steve sucked in a breath. “I’m never gonna get used to shit like that.”

Eddie laughed, squeezing his hand. “Home?” 

Steve shuffled his feet, looking suddenly almost more nervous than he had been in facing his parents. “Actually, I thought maybe we could take one more stop, if you’re up for it?” He stepped away, digging through the drawer of a small desk until he pulled out a scrap of paper, hastily scratching something out on it before handing it over.

It was an address. 

Eddie’s head snapped up. “W-what… How did you—” He knew that address. Had it memorized since he was five years old, just in case.

“When I was reading Chrissy's book. I thought about him, what you told me about him, I mean, and It appeared.”

Eddie swallowed hard. “He’s still there? H-he’s alive?”

Steve took the paper from his hand, tucking it into his pocket before wrapping him up in his arms, pressing their cheeks together. “He’s in his 80’s but still kicking. What do you think?”

“Yeah,” Eddie let himself melt into Steve’s comforting hold. “Let’s go see Uncle Wayne.”

They landed, hand-in-hand on the crumbling front porch of a dilapidated old trailer.

The place hadn’t been much to look at in Eddie’s youth either, but now it was quite literally falling apart. The whole park seemed to have fallen into disrepair, mostly abandoned save for Eddie’s beloved uncle’s home.

Afraid to lose his nerve Eddie knocked on the door the moment he had his feet securely under him, heart pounding as he listened to the sound of someone moving around on the other side. 

The ancient door creaked open, revealing a wizened old man in a moth-bitten flannel. He was completely bald now, but still sported a short beard, white these days rather than the salt and pepper of Eddie’s memory, but there was no mistaking those kind, if piercing, eyes.

“Eddie?” Wayne gasped, looking at him as though he was seeing a ghost.

Somehow Eddie hadn’t thought through the fact that he hadn’t aged a day since he last saw the man in front of him, and that was going to require some sort of explanation, assuming the shock of it didn’t give him a heart attack first.

“Long time no see, Uncle Wayne.”

“No kidding,” the gruff man huffed, making a visible effort not to let his mouth hang open. Wayne glanced from Steve to Eddie and back again before shaking his head, mumbling something to himself as he shrugged and stepped back into the house. “You boys better come on in then.”

Eddie didn’t move at first, he felt frozen and so unsure, but then Steve was pressing a hand into his lower back and he remembered he wasn’t alone. They followed Wayne inside and it took everything in Eddie not to break down and cry. The place was just as run-down inside as out. 

“I can’t believe you still live here,” he said, looking around at the peeling wallpaper, barely hanging-on paneling, and the thick layers of dust on almost every surface.

“Refused to move,” Wayne explained, leaning heavily on the old formica countertop in the kitchen, his eyes tracking Eddie’s every movement. “Even after everybody else left. I—your dad told me you ran off, and to be honest I was happy you did. But I knew you might need family one day, and I was afraid if I left you wouldn’t be able to find me. I never gave up hope.”

The tears Eddie had been fighting off won out, running in thin lines down his face.

Wayne took a wobbly step towards him, voice breaking as he spoke again. “I missed you, Eddie.” 

Eddie let out a sob, surging forward to wrap him up in a hug. Wayne was both shorter and thinner than he remembered, but there was still strength in his arms when he gripped him back.

“I missed you too, old man. Every day I missed you.”

They held each other for a long time, until Eddie’s tears slowed and Wayne could stand on his own again. 

The older man pulled back, eyes all for Steve now, giving him a narrow eyed once over. “Now—Eddie, you gonna introduce me to your boy here? And maybe explain to me why you look the same as the last time I saw you even though it’s been nearly forty years?”

“Right,” Eddie mumbled a breathy laugh escaping his throat. “Um, this is Steve.”

"Hrmph,” Wayne hummed, still squinting at Steve. Honestly Eddie wasn’t sure if the man’s eyesight was going or if he was trying to appear somehow intimidating. Knowing Wayne, it was probably a bit of both. “Steve, huh. You love my boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve answered quickly, his hand coming to rest again on Eddie’s lower back.

“Sir—” Wayne drew the word out, thinking, then gave a single decisive nod. “I like ‘im.”

All the breath whooshed out of Steve’s body at once, as though he’d been holding it, worried about his reception. Eddie bumped their shoulders together.

“As far as the rest goes, It’s kind of a long story.”

“Sorta figured,” Wayne grunted. “No matter, I got time.”

“Wait,” Steve said, his hand gripping tight to Eddie’s side now as he spoke softly in his ear. “How about we show him instead?” 

And If Eddie wasn’t already head over heels that would have sealed it for him. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek, infusing it with every ounce of love he felt for the other boy in that moment.

“What do you say old man, you wanna come and live with me and Steve?”

Wayne didn’t answer for long enough that Eddie was afraid he might refuse, but after a long pause his face spread into a familiar smile. “I’d love that. Let me just get my jacket and we can be on our way.”

“Don't you wanna bring anything with you?” Steve asked.

“Nah, this junk don’t mean nothing. I got my boy back, that’s all I need. Where are we headed anyway?”

“Back home, to the castle,” Eddie grinned, knowing the reaction that was likely to get. 

It didn’t disappoint. 

“Castle?!” Wayne shouted, loud as a gunshot.

Eddie and Steve shared a look, giggling as one. 

“You’ll see.”

Eddie took Steve’s hand and together they held on to Uncle Wayne to make the journey home, so much easier now that the final weight Eddie had been carrying around for so long had been lifted. After decades of mourning everything he thought he’d lost, only to find so much more in return, he was more than ready to begin this new chapter of his life, and make up for a little lost time. 

Stay tuned for a look into Steve and Eddie's happily ever after in a new spicy sequel one-shot coming this winter!

Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog 

@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad

Fic taglist(open): @strangererotica @paintsplatteredandimperfect @xegany @devondespresso @3vilpurpl3d0t

@ravenfrog