#not sure if i want to scream at him or just punch him the goddamn hypocrite

[voidsturn]

title: no. 1 party anthem

pairing: stranger!chris x stranger!fem!reader

plot: while suffering with the consequences of unprocessed hurt, loneliness and self-hatred, chris is forced to yet another party. he finds himself in a conversation with someone new, which proves to be weird, comfortable, stupid and real.

type: fluff (maybe hurt/comfort), strangers au, close proximity, open ending

warnings: this fic does touch on some sensitive topics but i’m not sure it qualifies as angst. mentions of anxiety attacks, alcohol, smoking/vaping and sex

author’s note: ahhh my first fic on this blog! i’m extremely excited and nervous cuz it’s somewhat longer than i expected but oh fuck. yes, i know this song isn’t actually a happy love song but i just couldn’t bring myself to give them an unfortunate ending. i might in the future but i didn’t want my first fic here to be completely angst (there will be in the future tho, no worries about that) for now, i really do hope you like this!

chris - orange | the girl - pink | nick - purple | matt - blue

“chris, are you making your goddamn piss in there?!” screamed nick, while almost breaking down the bathroom door. he was getting on chris’ nerves, probably more than the thumping bass of some party song or the loud moans of some hookup next door. he was still breathing weirdly but told nick to just leave him alone. nick shortly after, gave up and ran towards the dance floor once he heard the first few beats of some charli xcx song.

while getting out of the bathroom, chris got stopped in his tracks. it was some idiot who couldn’t hold his fucking liquor better than a toddler. he was on the verge of punching that same idiot in the face. “jeez, can you walk like a normal human you fucking moron?” chris realised the asshole spilled some of the disgusting drink on his previously crisp white shirt. he couldn’t believe the theme of this party was ‘classy’. in a matter of thirty minutes, chris almost had an anxiety attack, was caught squatting in the bathroom by his own brother, heard some really unfortunate noises next door, and got his only formal shirt ruined.

chris was stuck replaying the last few moments in his head when the drunk idiot dodged chris and basically threw himself into chris’ safe space - the last empty bathroom. muttering a string of curse words, chris decided to give up on this ‘stupid fucking party’. he thought, or was hoping, that at least matt might be having a bad time as well. in a borderline ritualistic way.

once he saw some familiar faces, chris interrupted a discussion about pokémon between matt and sam. “chris, is it okay if we leave in an hour? i’m finally having a nice time at a party”. matt just said the words he thought would never leave his mouth. sam and colby along with matt tried to calm down the clearly uneasy chris. all he wanted was some fucking peace. chris was getting so goddamn overstimulated, he was fully ready to accept the jail time of a few murders. he wasn’t ready to take an uber either so he just basically ran towards tara after colby told him where she was.

while walking towards tara, chris was so fucking done. doomed actually to be at this party. the big hall felt endless with the maze of sweaty, icky bodies of completely wasted people on the dance floor. this, coupled with the strobing led lights and almost deafening party playlist, proved to be the final boss of overstimulation for chris. he finally reached tara, who was hosting the ‘stupid fucking party’. tara immediately knew chris wasn’t feeling good once he started to frantically ask if there was someplace less chaotic. she said that there’s a rooftop where she saw people go for a smoke.

tara made it seem like the rooftop was a chimney when in reality, there were only three other people. two of them were on their phones, editing pictures taken hours ago, occasionally taking a hit of something bubblegum flavoured. the third was looking at the city skyline. the rooftop was dimly lit with a few fake lamps, streamers and rogue balloons from the loud party downstairs. it was pretty small in size so chris was basically forced to go near the third girl. she had on a sparkly dress. her hair was up in a ponytail with bangs. chris thought she looked pretty but was in no mood to chit-chat cause the environment still reeked of alcohol, pretend and bubblegum. the alcohol smell was probably cause of his ruined shirt. chris walked towards the edge of the rooftop and leaned against the edge, slyly looking for a ‘fucking place to sit’.

he questioned why he was feeling way more sad than at the previous parties he had been forced to. sad wasn’t the word. more like left out. numb… lost even. yeah, his brothers and friends were all present downstairs, having the time of their fucking lives. but why couldn’t he? maybe he wasn’t in a good place mentally. he hated himself and his fucked up predicament for that while the others were just living it up, talking to other excited strangers, dancing, enjoying the ‘stupid fucking party’.

thoughts of self hate started their inevitable projections onto others. in a weird way chris felt almost betrayed. he hated coming across as a complainer but on the way to the party, matt was quick to say shit like leaving in half an hour, while nick was ranting about hoping tara didn’t invite the same morons from two weeks ago. all that bitching and moaning and praying and hating and now nick’s probably dancing his heart out to some ariana grande remix while matt’s chatting with people about fucking pokémon. just pokémon actually, that was phrased really weird.

it wasn’t always like this. all three of them were supposed to be in LA for business and pretend to like this. but at this point, nick and matt were getting a bit too good at pretending and chris just wasn’t. hence the shocking betrayal. now chris knows that entire cycle of thoughts started okay and just spiralled. completely outta his hands. now, he hates that he thinks like this about his two favourite humans in the world. thus began the voices in his head.

“you’re such a loser, useless without your brothers, and still you’re thinkin’ shit like this. fucking pathetic. don’t even have a fucking driver’s license? scared of having a girlfriend? again, you’re fucking pathetic. stop crying and whining and complaining like a stupid baby and suck it up for the love of-”

chris was quick to pull out his nearly dead phone and hence began his doom-scroll during moments like this. he wanted to avoid this shit, at least till he was in the comfort of his own bedroom. he heard the ‘sparkly’ girl behind him muttering and breathing? if anything, he thought she was staring at him cause of the two burning holes he felt at the back of his head. ugh, the one time he doesn’t have a hat or beanie on. he hoped ‘taylor swift doppelgänger’ took the hint that he wanted to be left to his own goddamn devices.

she didn’t. of course she didn’t cause that’s just who she is.

“you should sit down. that glass railing isn’t as strong as it seems. wouldn’t wanna witness a-”

“i got it, thanks” snapped chris as he finally made eye contact with the girl. she had wide eyes, really big hoops and glitter on her face. her dress resembled a disco-ball.

“fine by me, more room on this… floor” chris let out a soft chuckle. can you blame him, he needed it. well to her, it sounded more like a scoff. “sorry, things are just harder to process tonight and i don’t know why” chris didn’t know why the girl was saying things that someone closer to her should hear. ‘maybe she’s drunk’ he thought, while thinking of something weird to ask so she’d go away.

“are you a disco-ball? i’m asking this to see how shit-faced you might be”

“i’m not a disco-ball, i’m a mirrorball… see that’s funny because they’re the same goddamn thing. and, this isn’t a fucking halloween party. and no, i’m not drunk, i’m pissed”

“oooh mirrorball’s got some lip on her huh?” shock wasn’t the word chris could use anymore. more like glad. glad that he wasn’t the only one pissed, again, in a borderline psychotic way. nick had tara to dance with, matt had sam to catch pokémon with. maybe chris could just talk to this girl. it wasn’t completely unrealistic, right?

he walked towards where she was sitting. getting comfortable on hardwood floor was no joke but once he saw her gratefully smile at him for a change, it was weirdly comfortable. she began talking yet again. “any good shows you’ve been watching?” wasn’t the question chris thought he’d be asked. maybe his name or something, but decided to roll with it. “nah, more of a music guy. matt’s the crazy binge-watcher”

“excuse me, more like matt’s the fun one. and yes, i took that personally cause i love shows” the girl was fully ready to defend her slightly insane ways to finish a series. “okay, well i love breaking bad, what about you?”

the girl shook her head “sadly, breaking bad is currently rotting on my watchlist but hey, you’re motivation to finally start it” chris was still hoping for something in common between them. not in a romantic way, of course but it did make talking to a complete stranger easier.

“so what about music?” the girl’s eyes lit up when she said taylor swift. chris was quick to speak. “okay but i don’t get why she’s so popular music wise? she’s cool don’t get me wrong, but-”

“because… she makes us feel seen dude” the girl continued. “the fact that someone as awesome as her can go through some of the same shit as me, makes me feel validated… seen. but then again, i won’t try to make you like something if you just don’t wanna. i do fuck with r&b and rap though if that’s what you listen to”

hoping this is the overlap between them chris asks “you heard of lil skies?” “i have, but i’m a local. more on the chill rap scene”

“so you like drake don’t you?” “say what you want but the guy’s got some hidden gems and his old stuff’s pretty awesome” chris couldn’t agree more. “totally get it, matt and i used to always jam out to the motto and she will-” “is matt your brother?” chris is in disbelief. egotistic disbelief but still. he widens his bright blue eyes. “oh my god, you have no idea who i am don’t you?”

the girl shakes her head “i mean i don’t know which one you are? are you one of those who refers to themselves in third person?” “please say something other than that. you’re making me feel like an idiotic species with that sentence. see now that’s funny cause that’s pretty weird of you-”

“i got it, thanks” the two couldn’t help but laugh. chris was feeling light and it was all thanks to this ‘mirrorball’ he found. he thought he could ask why she was previously pissed, hoping she didn’t take it the wrong way.

“oh i saw my drunk ex downstairs. he said some really weird shit and i got super mad at him and almost punched that bitch in the face” chris let out a wheeze which was promptly stopped by the girl’s pissed face. he couldn’t relate to her, yet he tried to understand. “how did it end?”

“whoa. you just made a taylor swift reference! you’re learning. see that’s funny cause-” “not funny dude. and you’re dodging the question so i’m sorry i asked” chris knew he overstepped the pretty thick boundary with someone he met only twenty minutes ago. after a long sigh, the girl began her explanation. “i just lost feelings. and it sucks cause i didn’t wanna string him along. downstairs he made me feel like i was a monster”

chris completely respected her decision. “you aren’t. you’re already better than people who choose to cheat. how long was it?” he thought people like that are very rare to come by. “barely two months? i don’t really remember but thanks for saying that whole thing” the girl smiled and felt understood. she added. “i tried, but my commitment issues kinda got in the way” chris knew all about that. he really did. even though he was curious, he wasn’t sure if he should go any further. something between the two had changed. one could hear a spark of lighting a firework in the silence, that kinda silence. not the awkward kind at all. peaceful and understood, yet troubled by the past.

both were left thinking about what could’ve been if they didn’t just push people away. maybe chris would’ve had a girlfriend, or an ex by now. maybe she would’ve still been in that relationship. unfortunately, the need to be free and invulnerable overpowered the two’s want of romantic love.

the girl was first to break the silence. “i love how i just said that to you, yet i don’t even know your name”

“the name’s chris” she hummed “name matches the looks”

chris had an involuntary red tint spread across his face while he widened his eyes. “did you just say i literally look like a chris?” “yeah basically” said the girl as if he asked her the dumbest question of the week. maybe of the month. chris agreed and continued, “hmm yeah, we did just trauma bond, yet we met barely an hour ago”

the girl was taken aback. “excuse me, trauma bond where? you still haven’t told me why you’re sad.” chris thought the hard part of finding someone was over. maybe just saying this to a complete stranger was harder. ‘fuck it’ he thought.

“look, i can’t even begin to think why cause every time i do, i ignore it cause i just don’t wanna get into it, and it all just builds up-” chris stopped himself but the girl nodded, showing that it’s okay and safe for him to go on.

“i know i should be happy. i’m young, healthy, well-off… but i feel so lonely, now more than ever. i blame my brothers for finally finding fame and LA actually okay and i know i’m such an asshole for saying that. y’know every single time some fan asks, ‘oh who’s least likely to live without his brothers or who’s least likely to be in a relationship’ they always instantly say it’s me. and i get it. i’ve built an image like that and yes it’s partially my fault but it still hurts. it’s like… people just expect me to be attached at the fucking hip to my brothers, and scared of women. i’m still definitely not ready for a relationship, but when someone says something like that again and again, it fucking pisses me off even more. in a way, it just stops me from pursuing anything cause everyone just always has something to say, and i just can’t help focusing on the bad shit. now i’m here, troubling you. someone i’ve known for two fucking seconds with my shit. i just really fucking hate it”

the girl took in all of his words and hurt and inhaled sharply before she spoke. “it’s okay to feel that way. the whole thing about you just blurting this out is valid. sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger than a loved one because they don’t know anything about you. and i’m weirdly proud that you said all that. it takes real guts”

chris felt the way he thought the girl feels when listening to taylor swift. seen. the girl continued. “and at the end of the day, you’re not gonna fucking end up cranky, sad and alone. as long as you have hope, faith and most importantly, love. not only for others, but really for yourself. if you feel hurt, you’ll hurt others and push them away. so it’s best to take care of yourself first, try to find a way you can open up to people closest to you. then you can definitely find whatever it is you’re looking for” chris didn’t take her words lightly and knew they were gonna be stuck in his head, regardless of his shitty memory.

he resumed the quip-off, feeling much better after letting all that out, and not being blindly judged for it. “so, we’re even now right?” the girl just knowingly smiled and chris couldn’t put a finger on why he just really liked a smile on her face. “y’know, i got all that from a taylor swift song”

“no fucking way. taylor’s songs give you wisdom?” the girl nodded but was quick to add. “more than wisdom, it’s clarity. and advice. honestly, she’s like the older sister i never had” chris wondered which song and as if the girl read his goddamn mind she answered, “well, it’s actually a combination of three songs. one’s the archer by taylor swift, the other’s escape from la by the weeknd-”

“did not think you fuck with him as well. they’re so different from each other” chris says while the girl just blinks. chris immediately apologises. “sorry, i have a habit of interrupting my brothers. my brain’s just really fucking weird and fast”

letting out a chuckle she says, “nah its all good chris. i can personally relate to that” to ensure he didn’t commit a fucking crime. chris lets out a sigh of relief while pulling out his phone, opening apple music in the process. “what’s the third song?”

as if right on cue, the five percent battery warning invades his screen. “ah fuck, phone’s almost dead” his panic continues. “i hate to say this but i have to go. otherwise my brothers will think i left already and my phone will be dead by the time i can call-” “it’s okay chris, go. i’m not mad at all”

chris hurriedly tries to find an outlet on the rooftop but there aren’t any. even the other two people who were previously there are gone, leaving their trace behind with the sweet smell of bubblegum. the girl’s eyes kept following chris, who was spastically still searching for a goddamn power bank or something. anything. “i’m pretty sure there’s no chargers here”

he turned his head towards her so quick, whiplash never felt more real. “okay then tell me your number, your name. anything” he was so out of breath from running around like a hooligan. yet, chris was determined to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating that entire conversation. the girl smiled yet again. ‘that damn smile’ he thought. “i hope you’re coming to jake’s party next weekend. i’ll be there”

chris really liked that answer. of course he did. he liked the chase and was finally excited to come to the next party. his phone started buzzing, messages from the triplet’s group chat appeared on his lock screen asking chris’ whereabouts. they were dying to leave but he wasn’t. he bid his ‘mirrorball’ goodbye and started to run down the stairs. just before chris could go he asked. actually… screamed.

“what was the third song!”

the girl turned around and screamed back the third songs name.

she blushed and looked away while chris’ signature grin took over his features. he saw the rooftop one last time. the battery on the phone was low but his spirits were high. he somehow managed to take a really shitty picture of that very ‘shiny’ rooftop.

the downstairs scene still felt like a thick and claustrophobic fog of pretend, but chris knew that if he really wanted to, he could find something real and grounded.

in their car, the triplets like after every ‘stupid fucking party’, talked about their individual experiences. nick as always began. “tara really needs to invite better people cause what the fuck. why’d they all look so judgy when i told them my favourite genre’s pop? after that whenever i tried to talk to them they’d just ignore me, like a bunch of goddamn high status judgmental uglies. like hello?! the music was loud but you’re not fucking deaf!”

“nick, i thought at least you were having a nice time. sam and colby had to leave five minutes after chris asked me to leave. honestly can’t believe i’m saying this but i should’ve listened to the kid. after that, i locked myself in one of the bathrooms and fucking played cheese escape. that’s right.. CHEESE ESCAPE. chris, where the fuck were you?”

before nick could answer, he saw the slight red tint on chris’ face as a cheeky grin was plastered his face. “oh my god, did you fucking hook up with someone?” the shock value was a bit too high for both matt and chris. the car slightly wobbled on the road. “no you fucking idiot i didn’t. i just went to the rooftop after tara told me it’s quiet up there and just scrolled on my phone. that’s why my phone was dead”

“well since you could’ve called me, i say bullshit. but it’s fine. i won’t ask further” said matt as he partially believed his story. nick was weirdly proud that chris finally talked to someone he didn’t know at a party, all by himself.

after a short thirty seconds of quiet, chris started blabbering about playing a song before he forgot the name. “oh my god, stop saying the fucking name of the song and just play it you brain-dead moron” scolded nick cause kid was morphing into a monkey while matt was on a highway.

chris finally opened apple music on his currently charging phone. he started playing a song called, ‘no. 1 party anthem’.

[schrijverr]

That’s my Husband, You Sick Son of a Bitch!

Divergence from chapter 29, where Eddie doesn’t get stopped and rushes in to fight the bomber, because that is husband and he will not let this stupid kid kill him. Though, maybe punching him in the face and loudly declaring Buck his husband, wasn’t his best plan.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: injury, violence

~~~

There is lead in Eddie’s stomach, a fear he hasn’t felt since he was pinned in the desert somewhere, almost certain he was never going to see Chris or Buck ever again. It’s been there since he first realized Buck was in that other truck and it hasn’t left the entire time.

Right now, Bobby is steadily trying to come closer to Freddie, his arms raised as he says: “I’m here now. So, what’s next? It’s what you wanted.”

“Wanted you dead,” Freddie tells him.

And vindictively, Eddie thinks: ‘I want you dead,’ the thought taking root as anger flushes through his veins. Anger is better to feel than that ever present gnawing fear. Anger is uncontrollable, but it’s less paralyzing. Anger, Eddie knows how to work with.

“I get that, but what about them?” Bobby counters, keeping his cool and gesturing the other injured firefighters. Then he points at Buck and asks: “What about him?”

Eddie just freezes at the words, the tiny tendrils of fear clawing at the anger he’s cultivating as he’s boiling behind that truck. Because what is Bobby thinking, getting the attention on Buck like that. It’s like he doesn’t see the bomber right there next to Buck, ready to, oh, I don’t know, bomb him?

Oblivious to Eddie’s thoughts, Bobby continues on talking: “He’s got parents, a sister, friends, people that rely on him. And he never did anything to you. He wasn’t even a firefighter when your father burned down that restaurant.”

Hearing Bobby say that, hits him in the gut, because it’s such a gross under-representation of who Buck is, of all the people that care about him. Of all the people that he cares about. Sure, he has parents, but they suck, but he also is a parent. He’s one of the best goddamn parents Eddie knows. And he’s a parent with Eddie. He’s his partner. His co-parent. His husband.

And yes, it’s not like that, but that doesn’t matter right now, because Bobby is trying to convince this shithead that Buck is a life that is worthy of saving, worthy of letting live, and he can’t do that properly, because he doesn’t have all the facts. He doesn’t know.

Eddie longs to correct him, to yell out that Buck is his fucking husband and this shithead needs to let him go right now, because he can’t do it without him. However, before he can, Freddie is answering Bobby, coldly shrugging: “Collateral damage.”

The disinterested tone in which he says it, cuts through Eddie. He knows that tone. That’s the tone of someone, who doesn’t care. Of someone, who has nothing left to lose. Of someone, who will let Buck die. He cannot let Buck die.

Without a thought, he’s up, moving forward as fast as his feet can carry him as anger takes over, turning into focus. Hands briefly brush against his uniform, trying to grab at him, but he’s faster and stronger, shrugging them off.

He needs to act, he needs to help Buck, he needs to punch something.

And he does. Almost on autopilot, years of boxing that he was forced into in high school, all the sparring he did to blow off steam, the time he spend in the army, it just takes over, and his fists connects with Freddie’s face as he screams out: “That’s my husband, you sick son of a bitch! Not your fucking collateral damage!”

Freddie is stunned by the impact, going down and dropping the trigger to catch himself, while throwing the other hand up to protect his face. Eddie had all but forgotten about the bomb in his rage, but he puts it out of his mind the second he got Freddie’s hands pinned and the button is out of reach again.

It’s fighting dirty, what he’s doing, but he doesn’t care, fist coming down on the guy’s face as he seethes: “You don’t,” punch, “get to,” punch, “take my kid’s,” punch, “dad,” punch, “from him.”

Before, he can punch again, people are grabbing him and roughly pulling him away from Freddie, whose nose is open and bleeding. He’s getting cuffed and a bomb squad is moving in, but Eddie is not treated kindly either.

He’s being restrained and he struggles against them. It’s not even that he’s trying to get another swing at Freddie, it’s just that the adrenaline is still rushing through him, still telling him to act. And he knows that even if Freddie is gone, Buck is still there. Buck still needs him.

So, he’s pushing and kicking, trying to get them away so he can see Buck. He’s hearing nothing, the harsh voices telling him to calm down not getting through to him at all.

It’s not until Athena is in front of him, slapping his cheek, that he snaps out of it and hears her voice say: “Eddie Diaz, you better calm down right now. Or I’m going to have to arrest you.”

“Buck. Buck still needs me,” Eddie wheezes, not entirely stopping the fight.

“And you can’t do shit for Buck if you don’t calm the fuck down,” Athena tells him without mincing her words.

“Okay. Okay,” Eddie says out loud to himself, taking breaths as he unclenches his muscles. At some point, rough gloved hands tentatively let him go, before people are stepping away when he doesn’t do anything more stupid.

Athena is sending him a weird look, but she doesn’t comment on anything that just went down, which Eddie is grateful for. Instead, she puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and leads him over to where Buck is, Hen already working on him, while Chimney tries to coordinate rescue.

Buck looks to be in complete agony, but still conscious. In an almost out of body experience, Eddie kneels down next to him, gently taking his hand and putting it on his lap. He stares at the appendage for way too long, tracing its every line, before he breathes out: “Buck…”

“Hey,” Buck tries to crack a grin, but he isn’t fully successful.

“Hi,” Eddie replies with a small voice.

“You just totally fought that guy for my honor,” Buck says, his eyes sparkling with something Eddie can’t place, despite the pain.

“Uh, I did.”

“That was pretty stupid,” Buck tells him, then adds: “But also pretty cool.”

“I’m, uh- I’m glad you think so,” Eddie chuckles, unsure how he feels about that, or what to say to it beyond what he already did.

However, he doesn’t have to figure that out right now, because Buck hisses in pain as something shifts and grips Eddie’s hand in a death grip, while his eyes flutter close.

Eddie’s eyes whip over to Hen’s face. He’s been so out of it, he hasn’t gotten the wits to pull out his medic professionalism, too focused on making sure Buck was still alive, feeling his warm hand in his own.

“Here.” Hen pushes a bunch of medical equipment in his hands as muscle memory takes over. Then she turns to Buck and says: “So, Eddie’s husband, tell me more about that.”

“Tha’s me. ‘m Eddie’s husband,” Buck murmurs, his eyes opening to slits. It’s clear the blood loss and whatever other injuries he may have are starting to hit him hard.

“Hen,” Eddie hisses, “is this the time?”

She sends him an unimpressed look and says: “He needs to stay conscious, in order to do that he needs to keep talking. I’m keeping him talking.” Then to Buck she goes: “What were you about to say?”

“’m Eddie’s h’sb’nd,” Buck smiles at her and Eddie has to blush and look away when he sees it. Then in a hushed whisper, Buck adds: “Bu’ y’re not ‘llowed to t’ll any’ne.”

Amused, Hen promises: “I won’t.”

“H’s s’nice,” Buck tells her conversationally and Eddie wants to tell him to shut up, but they do need him conscious and a small part of him preens at the admission.

“Oh, is he?”

“Y’ah, he ‘s,” Buck says, voice appearing to gain power as he gushes about Eddie. “But h’s also s’ch a bitch s’metimes, but it looks s’good on ‘im. ‘e looks s’xy wi’h his hands on his h’ps, cocky li’le f’cker.”

Eddie chokes on a noise and busies himself with making sure Buck is getting fluids, while ignoring the way Hen is looking at him. He never thought of himself as a bitch, even though he can admit now that he is sometimes. However, Buck finding it sexy on him makes him feel all squirmy, though he doesn’t know what to do with that.

“G’eat back up at par’nt-t’acher conf’renc’s,” Buck continues on, oblivious to Eddie’s struggles and only making them worse. “H’s a g’eat dad too. Chris loves t’e shit outta ‘im and I love t’e way he smiles wh’n Chris ‘s in t’e room.”

Desperately Eddie looks over to where their meager back up is getting into position to lift the engine of Buck’s foot. He and Hen are staying right there to monitor Buck and pull him out. No one seems to expect him to move away from Buck, which he is grateful for, though he can’t fully comprehend why.

“It’s t’e cri’kles, ya’ know, ‘round h’s ey- AHHH!” Buck cuts himself off with a scream when the engine gets minimally lifted and Eddie and Hen tug at him, hoping to get him free.

His hand has Eddie’s in a death grip once more, but he can’t bring himself to care about the pain, just gripping back, hoping it will be a comfort. It has to be, because it’s all he can give right now. All he can do to help. No matter how much more he would rather be doing.

But it’s not enough. Not enough people, not enough manpower.

Eddie can’t name half the feelings that are swirling around in his chest, but he knows one of them is desperation. Hopelessness. He is never good enough and right now, he feels it more than ever. Without his permission, tears well up in his eyes and he looks over to Bobby desperately, asking: “Is there anything on the truck we can use for leverage?”

Bobby crushes any hope he has of getting Buck out sooner. “No, we need more people.”

“It hurts,” Buck says in a small voice and Eddie’s heart breaks.

Without conscious thought, his free hand comes up to card through Buck’s hair as he attempts to soothe him: “I know. I know. We’ll get you out, I promise. I’m right here, just keep holding onto my hand. I got you. I always got you.”

He barely has the mind to focus on the people breaking through the barrier to come help. He is grateful to them for helping them get Buck out, but he can’t even think of them. Instead he is completely zeroed in on Buck, only noticing the bystanders to the extend that he acknowledges when they allow for him and Hen to pull Buck free, before he gets caught in the whirlwind of getting Buck on the backboard and into the ambulance.

Buck keeps groaning and whimpering in pain and each time it slashes through Eddie’s soul. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget those wounded noises.

In the ambulance, it’s clear that Eddie isn’t driving along as a medic, but as family of the victim. Hen and Chimney flutter about him, keeping Buck stable, and Eddie just sits there, holding his hand.

As they work, they keep Buck busy with questions or comments, prompting him to keep talking. It appears that Buck has decided that Eddie is a great topic, which means Eddie spends the whole drive with fear for Buck’s life and embarrassed fondness warring in his chest.

But what else is he supposed to do, but burn worriedly when Buck slurs: “H’s t’e b’st thin’ tha’ happen’d to me.”

What is he supposed to do, but grip Buck’s hand tightly and pray that he’s making it through this, because Eddie feels like his insides are going to crawl out of his mouth and like he is going to shed all his skin. He feels hot all over and cold to the core, uncomfortable at Buck’s words, but also pleasantly buzzed on them, heat flooding through his veins.

By the time they get to the hospital, his ears feel like they’re going to fall off with how hot they are and his insides are more squirmy than ever.

At that point, the fluids they’ve been giving Buck are beginning to work their magic and Buck’s eyes clear up a little more as they roll him towards the hospital. Panic flashes in his blue eyes as he looks at Eddie and he chokes out: “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just focus on making it through this, okay? I’m here. I’m right here. I’m always going to be here,” Eddie assures him with a pained smile. It’s not pained because he blames Buck for giving them away, but because Buck blames himself for that, even when he is in so much pain. The stupid self sacrificing idiot.

“You will?” Buck asks, voice heartbreakingly fragile.

“I will,” Eddie promises, because there isn’t a cell in his body that would ever think differently.

Buck smiles gratefully at that, but doesn’t say anything else, clearly too exhausted. Eddie should be letting go of his hand now, but he can’t bring himself to. He fears that if he lets go of Buck now, he might lose him forever and that’s a reality he cannot imagine.

In the end, Chimney has to gently pry his fingers off of Buck’s hand so they can hand him over to the hospital. As he does, he shushes him: “It’s alright Eddie, you’ll see him again. Buck’s a though cookie, he’ll make it. You’re not going to lose your husband, I promise.”

It’s not a promise they are allowed to make to patients or loved ones in their line of work, but it doesn’t even register to Eddie. Instead, it’s as if something has been knocked loose in his chest and a realization floods through his veins; Eddie is in love with Buck.

This whole time, he hadn’t even realized that he never corrected anyone’s assumption about the nature of their relationship. He’d been so focused on Buck that he didn’t even question it. Embarrassed by the way he was waxing poetry, sure, but also pleased. Happy.

It suddenly makes so much sense to him. Why it was so hard with Shannon, but so easy with Buck. The way he kept finding reasons to not divorce Buck, to keep him close. The way it hurt when he had to suggest a divorce, the relief when Buck didn’t want to.

Eddie wanted to Buck to say those things about him. Still wants him to. He loves him and he might have just lost him forever, before he even got to bask in it or say it back.

The crushing reality that he is gay and in love with his husband, who is his best friend and co-parent, crashes over him and he nearly buckles under the force of it. He stands there at the entrance of the hospital, shaking. He can’t deal with all of this right now.

His lip wobbles and he bites it harshly to stop it, mechanically straightening his spine and choppily marching into the hospital. He needs something to do. Something to keep himself together. He snatches the hospital sign in paperwork for Buck out of some poor nurse’s hands, before anyone else can. His hands shake, but he forces his penmanship to be neat. Buck can’t die at his hands due to illegibility of his handwriting. Not before Eddie can tell him.

As he fills everything in in a frenzy, Hen and Chimney are hovering behind him, watching him with worried brows as they share meaningful looks with each other. Eddie ignores them, just like he’s ignoring the turmoil inside. He has a job to do right now.

However, in this very smart plan, he’d forgotten that his job was a small one. When the paperwork is handed over to the hospital, Eddie is left adrift again and it all hits him like a tidal wave once more.

No matter how much he hates it and tries to fight it, tears well up in his eyes and he chokes on a sob as he collapses on the waiting room chair between Chimney and Hen, crying: “I love him. Oh my god, I love him and I didn’t tell him.”

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Chimney rubs his back. “A lot was happening.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he knows you do,” Hen comforts him too, arm wrapped around his shoulders.

“No, he does- doesn’t,” Eddie cries, hiccuping over his words. “He doesn’t because I never- I never told h-im. Because I’m an- an idiot, who didn’t- didn’t even real- realize that I l- lo-ve him until now.”

Behind his back Hen and Chimney exchange another look, before Hen tentatively asks: “What do you mean you didn’t realize you love Buck until now? I- uh, I thought you two are married.”

“We are,” Eddie sniffles, wiping at his tears. “It’s a- a con- convenience thing.”

Chimney chokes on his spit and start coughing. Eddie can feel Hen pushing him lightly from behind his back, but he doesn’t comment on it, cheeks burning in embarrassment. He knows how stupid it sounds now, he feels like an idiot already. No need to make it worse.

“Can I ask how that happened?” Hen asks gently, while Chimney continues to try and get his breathing under control.

“It’s a long story,” Eddie mumbles, the every present shame of not being good enough weighing down on his chest.

“I mean, we have time, but it’s okay if you don’t want to tell us right now,” Chimney says, having gained control of himself. “Though, gotta say, man, little offended we didn’t get invited to the wedding.”

That gets a wet chuckle out of Eddie, which was probably the point. He glances over at Chimney and manages to crack a smile: “Sorry. Though it would’ve been a little difficult, since we got married back in 2016.”

He watches with a bit of amusement as the gently joking expression on Chimney’s face gets wiped off by shock, eyes bulging out of their sockets. On his shoulder Hen’s hand spasms, probably also in surprise.

Eddie bites his lip, this time to stop the smile, then looks out into the waiting room with unseeing eyes, lost in the memories. “We met in 2015 in El Paso. Buck worked on a chicken farm and I’d just returned from my second tour. He was actually seeing Shannon at the time.”

“As in your ex-wife Shannon?” Chimney asks, sounding shocked yet also gleefully invested. Eddie can’t help but be fond at the nosiness.

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a crooked-smile. “Probably should have realized it then, with how little I cared about it. How a part of me was happy she was, that maybe she just cheated and that’s why she left. That I was normal.”

“Oh, Eddie,” Hen sighs and she pulls him into her side.

Eddie goes willingly. The realization from earlier suddenly stuck in his throat like a missed bone in a fish. Tears start up again. He hadn’t even realized how hard admitting that would hit, until he said it and now he struggles to swallow it away.

He curls into Hen’s side more, hiding his face in her neck. He shouldn’t be doing this, showing weakness the way he is, but he can’t bring himself to care. Buck is in surgery and Eddie has never felt so scared before, except maybe when it was Chris. He needs the comfort of his friends.

The tears start up again and he weeps silently into Hen’s uniform. Hen doesn’t comment on it, just pulls him closer and holds him tight, while Chimney continues rubbing his back. Eddie doesn’t know what he did to deserve people like this, but he’s so grateful.

They’re interrupted by Maddie rushing in, looking a mess, frantic, worried and confused. Eddie cringes away from her, scared to face her now. He’s always wanted Maddie to like him – another thing that makes more sense in hindsight – and he fears the probably somewhat right accusations she might throw at him when she gets there.

Both Hen and Chimney can feel how he tenses up and after a silent moment of communication, Chimney squeezes his shoulder, before getting up to catch Maddie. Eddie loves him for it. It’s Eddie’s duty as a brother-in-law, but he feels too wrung out.

They watch Chimney talk lowly to her, arms making calming gestures, while Maddie’s arms move wildly. After a bit, Chimney grabs her shoulders and says something intently, then Maddie collapses into a hug and clings tight while Chimney holds her.

“Did Maddie know?” Hen asks softly after a few moments.

“No,” Eddie says with a small voice. “No one, but my family does. Buck wanted to tell her, but he didn’t want to make her keep that secret from Chimney.”

“Self sacrificing idiot,” Hen says fondly, echoing Eddie’s earlier thoughts, so he can only hum in agreement.

Chimney leads Maddie away, probably to calm her down some more. Eddie can’t help but note how good a match they are, making a mental note to mention it to Buck, soothe some of his worries. Before his chest twists again with the reminder that that might not be possible.

Fresh tears well up and he buries his face in his hands and lets Hen comfort him again. Later he’s probably going to want the ground to swallow him over it, but right now, he just thinks about how nice it is to be held like this. He can’t remember the last time he let anyone hold him like this.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but the tears have gone from full on tears to silent weeping to little sniffles by the time someone nudges him.

When he blinks a few times and rubs the crud out of his eyes, he finds Athena there, holding out a bottle of water to him, a gentle motherly look on her face. “Here, drink this, baby. I’ll need to take your statement after, is that okay? You feel up for that?”

“Thank you.” Clumsily, Eddie takes the bottle from her, struggling with the cap for a second, before chugging half, then forcing himself to take small sips. He didn’t even realize how thirsty all the crying made him until now.

Then the rest of her sentence registers and he wipes his mouth, before looking to the floor and hunching in on himself. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“Well, we need a statement, but it doesn’t have to be now. We can do it later,” Athena offers.

“No, it’s okay,” he gives her a watery smile. “I can do it now. Not much else to do but wait.”

Sympathy flashes over Athena’s features, before she gets everything ready to take his statement. “So, can you tell me what happened, Eddie?”

“Uh, we- we heard Bobby – Captain Nash – on the radio, which was a little odd, since he’s, you know, suspended right now,” Eddie starts, recounting everything that happened from then until he gets to attacking Freddie. “He just sounded so cold, you know. The way he said it. ‘Collateral damage.’ He didn’t care if Buck lived or died. I- I couldn’t just stand there anymore, you know.”

“I think so, but can you tell me more?” Athena prompts.

Eddie swallows uncomfortably, then says: “He had Buck. He would have let Buck die. I- I couldn’t let him do that, not when- not when he had to come home to me. To Chris. Uh, Christopher, our son,” he clarifies for the record.

Athena probably had gathered some bits and she is a professional to the core, but Eddie can see the way her face twitches slightly when he says ‘our son.’

He continues: “I acted before I could even think about it. It was instinct taking over. I couldn’t let him kill Buck, couldn’t let Chris lose another parent after his mom already walked out on him and I had to leave him to serve in the army. I couldn’t do that to him. And I couldn’t lose Buck. So, I acted.”

“And the way you kept punching?” Athena asks, not judgmentally, though Eddie still feels it.

“Uh,” he looks away. “Adrenaline, I think. All the fear coming out. I mean, I saw the trigger to the bomb so close by still, I felt like I had to stop him. So I pinned him, tried to knock him out. I probably should have stopped, but I wasn’t thinking.”

Athena hums to herself as she nods, looking over her notes. Then follows up: “Was that also the reason you kept struggling after you two had been separated?”

Eddie blushes at that and admits: “In part. Another part was that Buck was still out there. He needed to me, so I had to get to him, but they weren’t letting me. In the heat of the moment, it didn’t register who they were and what they were doing. When I snapped out of it, I stopped,” he adds in defense of himself.

“I know,” Athena smiles. “And can you state for the record what your relationship is with Buck, or Evan Buckley?”

“He’s my family,” Eddie says without missing a beat. Then he grimaces as he says: “It’s a little complicated, but he’s my husband and my co-parent. My best friend. I love him.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” Athena tells him, then puts away all her official stuff. She is done with taking his statement and Eddie relaxes slightly. Once she has everything tucked away, she asks: “And how are you feeling?”

“Terrified,” Eddie confesses.

“He’ll be okay,” Athena assures him. “Buckaroo is too stubborn for anything else.”

Eddie gives her a teary yet grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Then Bobby speaks up: “We’re here for you two. All of us.” Eddie hadn’t even noticed him coming in and looks up with a start.

“Thanks, Cap,” he says, unsure how to break to either of them that it’s not like that – though maybe it is now – instead he focuses on an important detail, asking: “Are we in a lot of trouble?”

“You would be,” Bobby says and Eddie tenses, then Bobby adds: “But you got lucky that your stunt made it to national television. Court of public opinion is definitely on your side, the LAFD would face a shit storm if they fired either one of you now.”

Almost as if with cosmic timing, the TV in the hospital waiting room re-plays footage from the explosion. Above the murmuring and commentary from the reporters, you can clearly hear TV Eddie scream: “That’s my husband, you sick son of a bitch! Not your fucking collateral damage!”

Embarrassment flushes through Eddie at his own actions, though he doesn’t regret it. Not when he got Buck out of there and to surgery as quickly as he could. Still, his voice is a little shrill as he says: “Oh, well, that’s good.”

“It is,” Bobby agrees mildly, but he doesn’t offer more.

Timidly, Eddie asks: “And are you mad?”

Bobby sighs, before rubbing his face. “A little,” he admits and a part of Eddie wilts. “However, I mostly don’t know what to feel just yet. I hope we didn’t make you uncomfortable for you to not want to share.”

Right now Eddie should probably explain, but he’s already had too many emotional talks, so he just smiles tiredly: “No, no. It was just us being in our own way.”

Hen, who has more context, though not all yet, snorts a little at that. Eddie can’t help but shoulder check her lightly over it, but the action on the whole just makes him feel warm. Fond.

He has no clue what tomorrow will look like, or even the next hour. He still has to deal with all the realizations he’s had today, with telling Chris and dealing with the brass about their lie. With the potential anger or other reactions of everyone at them for lying.

However, right now, he just lets the comfort of his family wash over him, bask in the fact that he has this support system. He can face tomorrow. Face what will happen next. He just has to make it through this, then kiss Buck on the mouth. The rest will come.

~~

A/N:

Ugh, you don’t even wanna know how much I wanted this to be the reveal, sadly these dumbasses are not done with us yet, so we’re gonna have to continue on in the main verse with their bullshit still in tact </3

Besides, it felt cliché to do a feelings realization over Buck getting hurt, since Buck’s feelings realization was already about Eddie getting hurt, like that felt repetitive

Also, idk why, but I have such a hard time incorporating Maddie in these AUAUs. I keep trying, but it never works out, so I always end up relegating her to more of a background role, I’m sorry to all the Maddie lovers out there, I’ll try for future AUAUs!

[running-in-the-dark]

-

[verystressedcollegestudent]

getting real sick of one of my groupmates going on about how things would have been better if we "planned ahead" and "tested earlier" and how our group (not him of course) has "issues with procrastination" as if he didn't leave me to do like 90% of the building for our system? like sir we could have tested earlier if you hadn't gotten me your single contribution on FUCKING FRIDAY and had shown up to the lab even ONCE outside of class time

[liliacamethyst]

Sneak Peak Part V - Web of Eternal Dawn

“Drop the child, Miguel.” the figure warns.

With an unimpressed raise of his brow, Miguel retorts, “Go home, Miles.”

Gabriel, now more settled, looks up at Miguel with adoring eyes, already halfway back to sleep. But Miles’ persistent voice booms through the little room. "Miguel, step the fuck back from the baby, and let's settle this outside. NOW."

"Kid, this isn't a fight you wanna fight," Miguel warns, gently lowering the now sleeping Gabriel back into his crib.

But just as the situation seems to have reached a tense standoff, the door bursts open, revealing you, fully clad in your spider-suit, ready to fight, fury painted on every feature. Flashbacks of the past, filled with anger, pain, and fear, cloud your vision upon seeing Miguel bending over your son.

"Sunny, I can explain—" Miguel starts, but your  reaction is swift. With a well-aimed web, you pin him to the nearby wall, rendering him immobile. Miles, clearly taken aback by your rapid response, stammers, “He... uh... was trying to... take Gabriel again. I saw it?”

Miguel's eyes, though pinned, glitter dangerously. “Cut the crap, kid.”

You had heard enough, and you fired webs at his mouth, silencing him. Standing tall, you demand, “What the hell is going on?”

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, an overpowering nausea threatening to bring you to your knees. Not again, you beg internally, this can't be happening again. The biting sensation of deja vu feels like a punch to the gut. 

As if reading your panic, Miles lifts his hands in a placating gesture, but your focus narrows solely on your sleeping baby, peacefully oblivious to the tension in the room. Swiftly, you cross the distance to his crib, gently scooping him up, trying your hardest not to stir him. Every instinct screams at you to get away, to protect your child from the unpredictable scene.

You barely register Miles' words of apology or his attempt to follow, reacting instinctively by sending a web in his direction, narrowly missing him and instead encasing Miguel against the wall. With him momentarily restrained, you leave the room.

Miguel, however, almost effortlessly shrugs off the sticky restraints, ripping the webbing from his face. He's pissed, furious even, seething at the situation. Anger boils at the goddamn circumstances, but above all, his ire is directed at this noisy kid. Damn, Miles, can't he just go bother someone else? This isn't his fucking business. It's his mess to fix, his responsibility, and he needs to make things right. Why does Miles have to complicate things even more?

With a tension thick enough to cut, Miguel turns to Miles, "What do you want, kid?"

Miles, glares defiantly, his voice dripping with loathing. "You, gone. Either in some forsaken universe or dead."

Miguel sighs, running a hand down his face, his weariness evident. "Fine, do whatever you wish. Kill me, banish me, torture me. Whatever your little heart desires. Let me first make sure that they are safe. I won't fight you, Miles.”

Miles pauses, disbelief flashing across his face. "You serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Miguel retorts, his gaze piercing.

Miles takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're a monster, Miguel. Maybe not a murderer, but still a monster."

"I know what I am." Miguel admits, his voice breaking ever so slightly and without looking back leaving Miles speechless.

Miguel hesitated at the window, on the precipice of leaving. But something - be it fate, spider-sense, or sheer reckless longing - pulled him back. He silently treaded through the apartment, drawn to a soft melodic voice.

There, in the dim room, you stood. Without your mask, vulnerability framed your features, eyes closed, a cascade of hair down your shoulder.

 You swayed gently, singing a lullaby, with little Gabriel secure in your embrace, his breathing even and deep. This sight, so full of love and tenderness, tore through Miguel. It was a clear representation of everything he yearned for, of the life that slipped through his fingers, so vivid he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

His heart ached, thinking of the life they could've shared, of waking up to this exact scene every day, of being a part of this little family. The regret was suffocating him in its weight.

You sensed him before you heard him, before you smelled his perfume, warm and woody with a hint of something spicy. He smelled like the shower gel he uses when you both took long showers, the walks you used to take in the woods on Earth 99, discussing plans for the HQ, but you just enjoyed holding his hand. He also smelled like your pillows after he disappeared in the morning, a scent tinged with abandonment. He smelled like a thousand things you couldn’t place, but foremost, he smelled like one thing, and you just hated that thought. Home. 

You finally broke the silence, your voice soft and wearied. "What are you doing here, Miguel?"

He swallowed, voice raw. "I needed to see if you were okay."

A sad smile played on your lips. "You're too late for that."

Ahhhh, you guys are amazing! Please share your thoughts, and don't hesitate to suggest how you'd like the story to end – I might just include it! Let's turn this into a group project. I was close to giving up on the story, feeling not good enough. I love writing and creating, but anxiety often gets the best of me. Your kind messages, (which yes, I read and cherish every single one) have helped immensely. I'm so grateful and want to return all the positivity back to you. Wish I could hug each of you! ☀️

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@vanillacoffeeology @calicoootalks @shine101 @mental-illness-is-my-friend @myhomethesea @janedah0e @st4rrlighttt @imnotyourbcbe @1lyyff @marsbars09 @migueloharaapologist2

[actuallysaiyan]

The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity)Chapter Six: Telephone Call

Chapter Six: Telephone Call

warnings: smoking, angst, phone sex, male and female masturbation pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: after the party, you and Kento find yourselves almost too nervous to talk to one another, yet at your last chance meeting before the summer he drops a bomb on you. despite this, you two find yourselves getting busy over the phone a/n: sorry for the delay...but I found my inspiration for this chapter. I hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @cherryblossombankai @seireiteihellbutterfly @kenpachisbrat @marikuchanxo

@harlekin6 @entirelysein-e @brokennerdalert

@sugurusprettygirl @hazzelle-kento @pixelcafe-network

Masterlist

The week that followed the disaster of that party, you decided to try and cry it all out. The memories were still so fresh in your mind. The look on his face; the betrayal and hatred for you. It hurt so goddamn much. You wondered if you’d ever be able to get out of this funk.

The promise of a summer vacation seemed nice, and possibly would be a bandage for the pain that was still seared deep into your heart. Knowing you’d have to come back to school at the end of the break didn’t seem very promising either. Knowing you’d have to face him again.

Your pride had been so wounded. He continued to act as if you didn’t mean anything to him, and you wondered every time you two crossed paths if you’d be able to face him like you once did. Kento seems to be perfectly content with not talking to you.

In fact, the rumors of him hating you have been spreading like wildfire. So your friends decide to spin it all around and make you see the positive in all of this.

“He was just one guy! You can meet all kinds of cute guys when you come out with us to the beach this summer!”

“Yeah! You’ll see, lots of fish in the sea!”

Still you were clinging to empty promises and tender wounds. By the end of the semester, you found yourself wanting to find the man who stole your heart and to tell him off. You wanted to scream in his face, punch him a few times and leave him discarded on the ground. Just as he had done to you, you would gladly do to him. You would find yourself feeling much better if you were able to feed him the same poison he had fed you.

Your mind kept thinking about all the fun you two had together during the school year. It wasn’t just hooking up and fooling around either; it was deeper than that. It was getting to know him, to know what made him tick, what made him laugh. Cracking the outer layers of the man who was Kento Nanami.

As much as you wanted to discard him and leave him be for the rest of eternity, you found yourself at an impasse. You were madly in love with him. You wanted to go all the way that night too. Everything had been hinging on him returning from getting those damn waters and him just fucking kissing you.

Since that night, you were dreaming of his lips on yours. You missed the way he made your stomach flip with just the sound of his voice. You longed for the all-nighters you two spent together. The sounds of the old N64 and the cursing from the AVGN videos playing in the background on your old and clunky laptop.

And while you suffered in silence, Kento was living his life as if you weren’t even a part of it at one point. You wondered if maybe he even cared that you were suffering. You wondered if he even thought of you. Given the way he doesn’t even look in your direction, you think you know the answer.

Behind those cruel hazel eyes, there was something else there that most people couldn’t see. Kento was wracking his mind with a way to get you back.

He was sure you hated him, so he didn’t even bother to try and talk to you since that night. But the days were counting down and soon you’d be gone for the summer vacation. Soon you’d be gone for a while and maybe when you came back you’d have a new man.

The thought of you kissing someone else pissed him off. It made him angry and jealous and fuck he was seeing green. Every time you wouldn’t even glance in his direction, his heart was breaking even more.

There was just nothing he could do to bring you back into his arms. He thought of every opportunity and every single action of kindness he could bestow upon you. And none of them could ever come close to show you just how terribly sorry he was.

It was killing him inside. It was tearing him apart completely. The thought of you leaving school and coming back with hickies on your neck, or wearing someone’s sweater, or even just having that look in your eyes from a new love, that would be the death of Kento.

Then the final day of school comes and everyone’s getting ready to leave for summer vacation. He’s been thinking about this day over and over. He keeps thinking about how he’s going to catch you right before you leave and tell you he’s sorry.

The words sound so good in his mind. They sound perfect. He can hear it all so clearly. So why does he feel like his tongue is overly tied and his brain is a fog when he approaches you near your friend’s car?

The giggling and talks of summer vacation stop when your friend notices him lurking nearby. Your eyes widen suddenly when you see Kento so close. The butterflies multiply a thousandfold when he comes up to you.

“K-Kento?” you ask, your voice trembling.

Your friends all move aside, making sure he’s not about to attack you or anything like that. They want to see that he’s here to make amends and not break your heart even further. Some of them even think maybe you two could remain friends.

“I…I need to talk to you,” his own voice doesn’t sound strong.

With a nod from your friends, you make your way over to him. They all lean against the car, ready to intervene if they need to. Then you turn your attention back to Kento.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Kento notices the way you cross your arms over your chest when you ask him this.

“I wanted to talk about what happened the other night.”

There was a beat of silence before you both looked at each other. You could see all the words he wanted to say in his eyes. He looks away bashfully before he fishes out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. He offers you one, but you decline. Then he brings the cigarette to his lips and lights it. You note that the smell is so comforting to you. 

“I was being such a shithead, alright? It was stupid of me. Those damn girls’ words had gotten to me.” He says between drags of the smoke.

You tilt your head to the side, “What girls?”

He looks away, and you’re starting to put the pieces together. Someone said something bad to him that night. Someone had made him feel like you weren’t completely in love with him. 

“Those damn girls we saw when we arrived. I guess they must have felt entitled to tell me that you were using me.”

Your heart feels broken. This was the cause of the rift between you two. The words of some dumb girl and her posse of bimbos. People who had no idea that you and Kento were more connected and bonded than most people are with their parents, their pets or even their good friends.

“Wait…you saw them? What the hell did they say to you?”

Kento shakes his head, “It’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. I just wanted to apologize to you. I was stupid to leave you like that.”

You wanted to reach out to him. To hug him. To kiss him. You were desperate to hold him against your body once more. You wanted to hear his voice whisper sweet nothings in your ear once again.

And all too soon, your friends were ushering you into the car. You wanted to run back to him, but they were telling you that they needed to get a move on. Then you hear those three words from his lips…

I love you.

The drive back to your hometown was awkward and quiet. All your friends felt bad for driving off without giving you a chance to answer Kento. He would be thinking about this moment for the rest of the summer and you wouldn't know how to deal with it.

His heart clenched as he watched you get into the car and he desperately called out to you. Saying those three words, they weren’t supposed to come out just yet. No, they were supposed to stay deep inside of him until the perfect moment came. If it ever came.

He was silently cursing himself for messing it all up. How would you ever want to talk to him again? You were probably telling your friends just how stupid all of this was. And with this, he leaves to go stay at his friend’s place for the summer.

The text message comes later. Then the phone call. He’s happy to see you messaging him. You ask him how he’s doing. It’s a few days after summer vacation started. 

“Hey, I’m sorry about leaving you hanging. My friends are jerks,” you say on the other line.

Kento is hanging out on his bed, his head feeling fuzzy from just hearing your voice. “Nah, don’t even worry about it.”

The two of you have so much to talk about. Neither of you mention the party nor do you mention what he said on the last day you saw each other. You two just spend time talking on the phone and enjoying one another.

And with each day, you two find even more conversations to have. Until one day you send him a picture. It’s a picture of you in bed, wearing just an oversized shirt. It makes his heart race and his cock hardens immediately. He finds the courage to call you up.

“Tell me what you’d want to do with me if I was there,” his voice sounds so husky like this.

You’re barely awake but you feel the need growing inside of you, “Kento…I want you to kiss me.”

Just hearing you wanting him to kiss you excites him even more. He’s fisting his cock, moaning into the receiver. You hear the slick sounds of his precum coating his cock. You let one of your hands dip down under your shirt and you begin to play with your aching clit.

“What else? Come on…talk to me.”

“Want you to kiss me, touch me…need your fingers in my pussy.”

This causes him to squeeze his cock to prevent himself from cumming too fast. This was going to have to be enough until you two saw each other again next semester.

“Yeah? You want me to lick that cute little pussy?” He doesn’t understand where he’s getting the courage to talk like this.

You whimper, “I wanna cum all over your tongue.”

This makes it even harder for him to slow down. You’re both working towards a similar goal, moaning and panting for one another. Kento growls softly.

“I’m gonna cum,”

You groan, “Me too.”

Tighter and tighter becomes the coil in your stomach. You see stars when you fall off the edge with a quiet call of his name. Kento is right behind you, biting his lip so he doesn’t yell too loud as he spills his cum all over his fist and his abdomen.

Both of you are panting as you catch your breath. Kento is the first to say something, coupled with a breathy chuckle.

“Hope that’ll keep you happy until we can see each other again.”

You smile, “I’ll be counting down the days.”

[my-castles-crumbling]

Not Jealous

@wolfstarbingo2024 - prompt: enemies to lovers - warnings: mildly explicit (is that a thing?) - rating: explicit (minors DNI) - words: 923 - link

Sirius Black was the most horrible, annoying, disrespectful roommate on the planet. Since Remus had started living with him three months ago at the start of University, Sirius had irked him to no end by leaving his things all over their space, staying up until ungodly hours playing videogames, bringing back more people than he could count to sleep with, and being the most attractive human on the goddamn planet.

Well- the last one might not be annoying per se. But wrapped in with the others, it was the most infuriating of all.

So when Remus stayed up until 2am writing a paper that took most of his brainpower and all of his patience, Sirius stumbling in with a tall tan man with dark hair, giggling together, was the last fucking straw.

"Sirius I don't give a single flying fuck if you want to fuck this guy in his room or on the roof," Remus said lowly, hands balled into fists, "But you will not fuck him in our room."

The man, who looked like he had stuck his finger in a light socket with the way his hair stood on end, immediately laughed. "I'd rather not fuck either of you if I have the choice, man. Regulus would be a bit pissed."

Sirius laughed as well, starting to retort, but Remus was still too mad to enjoy whatever inside jokes they were sharing. "Just get the fuck out, alright?"

And the other boy, who didn't seem to be capable of seriousness or remorse, simply bid Sirius goodnight and left, yelling loudly as he went.

But as soon as he left, Sirius turned, his face falling flat. "What the fuck made you think you can act like that?" he asked, storms in his eyes.

But Remus was done. "Me? What about you? Treating our room like your personal trash can, staying up until all hours, bringing back god knows how many people to fuck you?"

But Sirius only smirked at Remus's last statement. "Wow, Remus. I didn't realize me hooking up with people had that much of an impact on you. Are you jealous?"

Remus felt blood rush in his ears at the question, and he used all of his sense to resist punching Sirius. "No, Sirius," he denied through a clenched jaw. "I'm not-"

But Sirius interrupted him, taking a step closer. "It's too bad if you're not," he said softly, his eyes going strangely wide. "Jealousy looks kind of good on you." And as he said it, he kind of tilted his head to the side, smirking and biting his lip as if challenging Remus to react. To understand what he was saying.

It was like a bomb went off. Like all of the annoyance and fury and tension built up and culminated into an eruption, and suddenly, without even thinking about it, Remus lunged forward, grabbing Sirius and pinning him to the bed behind him, the entirety of their bodies pressed together, his mouth by Sirius's ear, the other man gasping at the quick contact. "I'm not jealous," Remus insisted, hands grabbing at Sirius's hips hard.

"P-prove it," Sirius nearly moaned, eyes wide and pupils blown with sudden lust.

So Remus had no choice but to roughly reach down, cupping the other man through his pants, groaning as he felt the hardness there. "If I was jealous," he murmured, squeezing just a bit as Sirius threw his head back and keened in pleasure, "I would fuck you, right here on the bed."

"Yes," Sirius mumbled, eyes closed and hands on Remus's biceps loosening as he fell apart a bit under Remis's grasp.

"If I was jealous," Remus continued, licking roughly at his palm and then slipping his hand under the band of Sirius's sweatpants, grabbing his length without thinking of being gentle, "I would open your arse up with my tongue, and watch while you screamed my fucking name."

"Remus," Sirius exhaled almost silently, barely keeping himself up on legs that were surely not working properly with the way Remus was working his cock with his hand.

"If I was jealous," Remus repeated, teasing his thumb over Sirius's leaking tip, inhaling as Sirius moaned with the movement, Remus's own cock twitching at the noises the shorter man made, "I would shove my huge cock so far into you, I'd make you come without touching you."

"Please," Sirius begged, his knees giving out, now, his expression completely fucked out as Remus moved his hand over his cock faster and with more purpose, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

"But baby" he cooed into Sirius's ear, reveling in the gasping sounds he was making, "I'm not jealous. So I won't." And then, grinning triumphantly, Remus stopped, removing his hand from his pants and staring down at Sirius, who collapsed on the bed, looking like he had just been told that Christmas was cancelled.

It took all of Remus's self-control to stroll into their adjoining bathroom before he shoved his own pants down to his knees, grabbed his own aching cock, and worked it over roughly, not even mothing to keep his moans quiet. And, less than a minute later, he came, loudly yelling, "F-Sirius!" as he did so.

But not loudly enough to drown out the noise of Sirius yelling his name as he came at nearly the same time on the other side of the door.

And he realized that yes, Sirius was annoying and infuriating and disrespectful. But fuck, him being attractive was definitely not a bad thing.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.2

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut

Summary: Reader gives friendships a try, and the first signs of Daryl changing start showing after unexpected tragedy.

Notes: I love writing Merle and early season Daryl, I hope they're in character!

"I'm ten seconds away from blowing his goddamn brains out."

"Not worth the wasted bullets." Daryl watched as Shane stalked back up towards the Greene house. You scoffed and rolled your eyes when you saw him stopping himself from slamming the door, at least needing to respect Hershel gave him some restraint from being a complete piece of shit. You weren't sure how long that would last though.

"Can't fucking stand these people Daryl. He looked like he wanted to kill me."

"Ya called 'em a homewrecker. The hell'd you expect?"

The days would go by without pause, no matter how you all screamed and cried for just one minute, one minute to get it together and breathe. Everything was constantly changing, and it ended up making you colder. 

The Greene farm was a nice place. You enjoyed the chores you took on there, you got to work with the horses, the cows, and the old barn cat. He'd end up passing away after a while, which would have really upset you if it hadn't been such a peaceful death, he just fell asleep with a stomach full of deer stew and never woke up. 

Andrea's strange half admiration and half disturbed likeness to you strengthened at the time on the farm, which you didn't know how to handle. You'd always wanted a girlfriend, ever since your first one in 6th grade ended your friendship. Your mother had shown up to pick you up from school, so high on Percocet she could barely keep her eyes open. She rear-ended the father of your friend, he got pissed, she spit in his face, and he called the police. ‘My daddy says I can't hang out with trailer trash like you anymore.’ She'd told you the next day. 

You secretly liked the way Andrea looked up to you. It was nice having a woman think highly of you, or any adult for that matter. She would often ask for shooting practice, and you even let her try out your bow a few times. 

She kind of fucked up your budding friendship when she shot Daryl. If you hadn't been so busy helping him get up into the house you would have shot her in her foot, and that's not an exaggeration. You wanted to stay up in that room with him until he fully healed, willing to sleep on the floor just so you'd be with him at all times, but the insecure fear of being seen as weak and clingy prevented you from doing so. You were out in the woods most of those days, hunting or killing any dead you ran across.

It was almost humiliating the way people would update you on Daryl’s condition. At first it was just Rick letting you know he’d be okay, but then it was Maggie and Hershel updating you on his eating habits, how much he ate, when he ate, he was only in bed for a couple of days, but it felt like weeks. Each time someone would tell you the miniscule details of his day you’d respond the same way, ‘Why’re you telling me? I’m not his mamma’. If you could look past the embarrassment of feeling like a worried child, you would be grateful. 

Andrea unknowingly made it up to you when you heard her bitching at Lori in the kitchen once, apparently having enough of her ‘a woman's place is in the kitchen making life worth living, leave the guns to the men' spiel. You complimented her afterwards. 

“Been real sick of that shit.” You had said as you loaded your Ruger pistol. “She's lucky it was you who said it, I think I would've punched that bitch in the face if she said that bullshit to me.”

Andrea was almost too stressed over the Beth situation to fully appreciate the gravity of your praise. She nodded as she looked over the field, eyes squinting against the bright afternoon sun, her arms crossed over her chest. “All my life I've heard that kind of thinking from men. It's different when it's a woman telling you that you're not worth the same as a man. Especially when said man lied about her husband being dead and got in her pants right after.” 

You smirked, stuffing your gun into the back of your jeans as you looked her over. “Wanna go kill some dead people?” 

“Oh, god.” She groaned dramatically. “That's the best idea I've heard all week.”

After you lost the farm, you wound up at an old prison. That was one of the rare times you had allowed yourself to try and be positive, and forced yourself to make friends, although it was obvious all your relationships were strained. Andrea was the only person who had ever made an effort to get to know you, and she was gone. 

Shane’s death didn’t affect you much, truthfully you were glad Rick killed him. The constant tension and heated arguments drained you just as much as Dale’s annoying humanitarianism. You attempted being friends with Lori, Hershel, Carol and Beth, despite the young girl being your polar opposite. She was soft, pretty, sweet and bubbly, you were hard, mean, vulgar and distant. 

Which might be one of the reasons your relationship with her had started to work. Beth saw you as a challenge, like a mean feral cat, and deep down you saw her as a possible redemption. If you could become friends with Beth, the sweetest girl with the kindest heart, you could do it with anyone. 

Lori never trusted you, so you never got far with her. She would look at you with this look on her face, like you were always seconds away from cutting her baby out of her stomach or some twisted shit. You had cursed her out once for said expressions, calling her a stuck-up bitch who thinks every woman that isn't her is beneath her. She died a couple days later, and a part of you that you couldn't push away felt like shit about it, for a very long time.

The whole Governor shit was a pain in your ass. But it was a blessing in disguise, because he was the reason you were reunited with Merle. 

“I want to come.” You stood your ground, grabbing your Ruger AR-15 from its spot on your cell wall. 

“I said no, we’ve got enough concerns, we don't need to be worrying about you.” Rick tried to speak in a hushed tone, his intentions good, not wanting you to feel embarrassed if the others heard you being denied. They knew you seethed at the prospect of being told what to do. You didn't work well with others, that was glaringly obvious.

“I don’t need you to worry about me.” You hissed, tugging the heavy gun over your back so the strap dug into your shoulder. 

Rick repeated your name, using his angry father tone, and that seemed to work. Your shoulders drooped and you growled out a few insults under your breath. You missed when the group members had more say in the way things were. Rick had become more authoritarian after Lori died, and it never affected you until that day. 

When they got back you were waiting at the door, pacing like a mother in those movies whose children had stayed out too late. Your eyes brightened as they filed into the prison, you saw Maggie and Glenn were back, and Michonne had returned as well. 

Your anxious smile slowly faded as the door closed behind them, counting two missing bodies. 

“Where…?” You breathed, looking between Rick and Maggie, your heart racing. 

Rick started having a goddamn mental breakdown after that, screaming at the walls and pointing his gun at things only visible to him. Tyrese, the newcomer, and his group fled, and a part of you considered it as well. If Daryl and Merle were dead, you had no reason to stay. Especially not with Rick behaving like a fucking maniac and no one speaking to you. 

True to your nature, you abandoned the prison in search of the Dixons. You knew they couldn’t have truly left, they would never do that, they'd never leave and forget you. Especially Daryl. He had promised to you one night after you fully secured the prison, that he was the one thing in your life that would never change. He’d never die, he’d never leave, he would always be there. Not in those exact words, of course, but in his own way.

He had stayed true to his promise. You found the two of them on their way to the prison, traveling through the same trails you’d originally used to find the place. 

“Thought I’d never see you two assholes again.” The apocalypse had made you more skilled at hiding your true emotions. You came off as playfully irritated, a contrast to the way you were barely keeping tears at bay. 

“Awww,” Merle teased in a condescending tone, faking a pout, “You miss us?”

“No. Rick’s group makes you seem like a peach though.” 

“Our group.” Daryl’s voice had taken on a strange edge as he walked ahead of you down the trail. “Those are our people now.”

You glanced at Merle to see he was outwardly displaying your same reaction, rolling his eyes and silently mimicking his brother's words. 

No matter how happy you were to see the two of them, Daryl’s reply echoed in your head for a long time. He meant what he said, you could tell by the way he spoke. He was changing, you hadn’t noticed it until that day, he wasn’t the same Daryl from Atlanta, the Daryl you knew. You swallowed your retort and followed him back to the prison. 

The Governor shit was really a pain in your ass after that day, making your earlier experiences a walk in the park. Through the tense days you found yourself around Merle more, the two of you discussing the prospect of just getting the fuck out of there in hushed voices, despite you both knowing Daryl would never abandon Ricks group. It was like he had some sort of unknown obligation to them, something you couldn't decode for the life of you, no matter how hard you tried.

“You're gettin’ real close to bein’ a bonafide pussy, boy.” Merle had said one day, shoving his finger in Daryl’s face. You stayed silent as they argued, biting at the soft skin inside your cheek. 

“Why? Cause I ain't jus’ lookin’ out for myself no more? Cause I actually give a shit about these people?” Daryl standing up to Merle wasn’t a familiar sight, and it made you feel emotions you really weren’t comfortable with. 

“It’s making you weak, brother.” Merle urged, nearly slicing his own scalp when he went to put his hands on his head, the heat of the moment causing him to forget his right hand was now a weapon. “Can't you see it? I ain’t gonna let you die for these sheep.”

Daryl would soon come to regret his last interaction with his brother. You, on the other hand, were lucky enough to have had some peaceful final moments with him before he vanished. 

“Dude, that's my fucking bed!” You shoved Merle away from your mattress, groaning when you saw it shredded and ruined. You’d have to go to the other cellblock and get another, if he hadn’t already paid those cells a visit. 

Merle sat on the floor breathing heavily through his mouth, resting an arm over his propped up knee.

“The hell you do that for?” You grumbled, kicking a chunk of bedding out of your cell and into the hallway. 

“Hopin’ to find some contraband.” 

“Dude, you could’ve just asked me. Holy shit.” You grabbed one of your bags from the corner of your room and began to dig through it, finally pulling out Merle’s old stash bag. HIs eyes lit up and he practically jumped for joy, snatching it out of your hands.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He grabbed your face with his hand and noisily kissed your cheek, making you groan and shove him off. “Oh sweetheart. Whooo! Daryl know about this?”

“No, didn’t want him to know. I’m better at making shit last than him.” You replied. Daryl didn't like drugs the way Merle did, he had his run in with meth and its consequences and he was strong enough to quit and not touch it again. Other drugs were a different story though, you suspected the speed and painkillers would be gone by now if he had known you were the one who stole it.

He fished out the group of smaller baggies he was looking for, full of various shades of white in different textures. He groaned like he just creamed his pants and leaned over, planting another dramatic smooch to your forehead.

You stayed with him on the floor of your cell as he got high, and eventually he left to go ‘clear out the walkers in the tombs’, something you were happy to sit out on. He told you to stay back and you laughed, teasing with a ‘it's all yours, tweaker’. 

Even though your last moments with him were pleasant, you never forgave yourself for not accompanying him. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx

[m0rkl]

The People We Become || Portal!Stanley AU

Hi, mom said its my turn with the Portal Stanley!AU. I have no art skills to accompany, but I sure can yap about it.

The Portal Incident

When Stan pushes Ford into the portal, he grabs Ford's sleeve, trying to yank him out. He's successful, but stumbles into range of the portal himself and is pulled in. Ford screams for him and runs to try and shut down the portal. Stan tries grabbing onto anything he can to save himself, but starts yanking at wires, causing the portal to go haywire. It explodes as he's pulled in, knocking out Ford in the process.

When he wakes up, the portal is in ruins and Ford has no idea if Stan made it through or died in the explosion.

He panics, unsure of what to do and realizes he'll have to more or less start the portal from scratch if he wants to save Stanley.

While this is all going on, a little ways away, Fiddleford is on his own, contemplating erasing Stanford and their work together from his mind completely. When he feels the explosion, he rushes to the lab and finds Stanford panicked and distraught. He hastily explains what happened and tries to get Fiddleford to help him build the portal again so they can save Stanley, but Fidds knows he can't. It's too dangerous.

They end up getting into a huge fight and Fiddleford erases Ford's memory of the past month. The last thing Ford remembers is realizing he was wrong about Bill and his research needs to be taken away. Fiddleford tells him he already destroyed the portal and its over. Ford, being injured and unwell from everything leading up to the incident as well as the explosion, figures Fiddleford is correct and just passes the hell out.

Fiddleford locks up the basement and locks away the memory gun away, feeling guilty for erasing Ford's memories.

As he's taking care of Ford, Fiddleford hides away any evidence that Stan ever came and puts his car in the junkyard, thinking its all for Ford's own good.

Stanley Enters The Portal

Stan enters the portal and is immediately lost to the space between dimensions. However, he has Ford's journal with him still. As he's floating through space-time, Bill notices the blip of the portal opening and comes to his location.

He tries to con Stan, saying the journal was something he and Ford wrote together. Bill says if Stan gives him the journal, he can take him home! Of course, Stan knows all too well that if a deal sounds too good to be true, it usually is. He tells Bill to fuck off and when he doesn't Stan punches him in the goddamn eye. Bill is momentarily more shocked than anything and Stan goes tumbling into another section of time-space.

He ends up in a sort of central hub for interdimensional travelers and is pretty much immediately arrested for not having any type of identification or trans-dimensional travel authorization. Is it fair? No, of course not, but when has any kind of law actually been fair?

Stan ends up in interdimensional-space jail, but criminals are criminals where ever you go and Stan is more or less in his element here. He charms enough people to get in with a crew and they eventually break out.

Stan gets some illegal documentation to keep him from getting arrested on the spot again, then goes on to continue the same type of life he was living before, just this time ✨Sci-Fi✨

I have a lot more on this, talking about how Ford and Stan's personalities are affected by their different lives and the various differences in relationships. Also all of Stan's adventures across dimensions! ...I would like to name this AU but I have no idea what to call it yet

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober - Day 8 (Biting)

Eyeless Jack x Male!reader

TW: Cannibalism, blood sucking

Something something cannibalism as a metaphor for love.

Sure, on paper it sounds hardcore, but is there anyone out there can say they've experienced a lust so great that you wish to fill up someones stomach? To take the initiative and serve your flesh for eating?

No one can, not even you. That was until you met him.

A genuine man eater.

And ever since then, you've savored the marks and scars he's given you, cherished the burning of his bites, and cried out orgasmically when he tears into your body.

Because this wasn't a metaphor, this was reality.

"How do I Look?"

Jack tilts his head slightly, eyes focused on your naked form as you lay on the bed. A low chuckle rumbled through him as he reached up to adjust the mask over his nose and mouth. "Like a deer…" he murmured, leaning forward.

His fingers trailed along your collarbone, tracing a line to your chest and then dipping lower. It was an soft touch, loving even.

But there was nothing innocent about the hunger burning within those empty sockets. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, feel the rise and fall of your chest against his palm. "Do you have any idea…what I want to do to you?"

"What are you gonna do?" you ask, sighing softly as you run your hands along the sides of your stomach.

"Turn you into roadkill."

The tip of his index finger brushed against your cock and felt it twitch in response to his touch. It was already starting to harden, growing thicker and longer as he grasped it in his hand. He hummed, giving it another gentle squeeze before letting go entirely.

He leaned in closer to your stomach, nose pressing against your skin as he took a deep breath in. The scent of sweat and soap filled his nostrils, making his mouth water just slightly. His tongue flicked out to taste the saltiness coating your flesh like a marinade.

You could feel his hand slide into yours, freezing fingers intertwining with yours as they rested above your hip. Your free hand roamed further down, sliding across the soft pudge of your stomach before coming to rest just below your navel.

Jack leaned in closer, lips parting ever so slightly as they pressed against your abdomen. He bit down, teeth sinking into your skin as he sucked at the flesh.

You couldn't help but cry out at the piercing pain, the sensation sending waves of heat through your body like being run over by a truck. You could feel your cock throbbing against your belly, staining it with precum.

"Fuck…" You gasped, voice ragged as you fought to keep control of yourself. But even as you did so, you could feel yourself losing reason.

It wasn't long before you found yourself bucking your hips upward, thrusting your leaky cock into the air. Every now and then, you would glance down to watch him suck at your stomach, hearing his soft moans as he drinks up your blood.

Your cock twitches at the thought of him tearing a chunk out of you and swallowing. You'd probably scream and cry, flailing around like a fish out of water. You can imagine yourself cumming at the sight of him chewing your meat alone.

He's working you up to it though, slowly.

Jack pulls away, leaving a swollen gash in your skin where his teeth had been. Before you could speak, he was already moving onto the next spot.

Another bite, this one deeper than the last.

Your hand tightened around his as you tried to breathe through the pain. It hurt, but goddamn did it feel good. Like getting punched in the gut or twisted up in hot barbed wire. It was rough and gritty and fucking intense.

And fuck if you didn't love every second of it.

Scumtober 2024 Masterlist

[astolfofo]

I lowkey kinda feel like writing smth for dr ratio but take this idea for now:

Revisited the 36 questions musical (music in it is so banger my god). Imagine you're one of dr. ratio's old classmates. An academic rival if you will. You part ways with him after high school. You could not imagine going to a university with him. You pity the poor students that do.

But he does come back into your life. You've seen him occasionally at your job. YOu do your best to ignore him, treat him like you would with any other colleague that you might have known. At an arm's length. You're not friends with any of them. You certainty would not treat him with more kindness than you would with any other person. Suffice to say, although petty, you had never gotten over how he was just always just barely a mark or two above you.

That was until you realized that the distance between you two was so great, that he was now your boss. You found out he was a professor in a university through the grapevine of your coworkers who can't stop swooning over him. You tried to ignore them, focus on your work, but today, they were loudly announcing that he was going to be the manager of your department. Strange, you think to yourself. He had never seemed to have an interest in your line of work. He had always been highly theoretical. You had turn to be highly practical. He was one meant for the sciences, while you could only surmount to doing practical application. You'd have imagined he would be doing things that were beyond what the mundane could comprehend. He shouldn't be here.

But he was.

WHILE being a professor at one of the top universities. Countless accomplishments, probably a wall full of certificates and awards. You had grown not to care about things like that. But it still felt that he was invading the one thing you were good at. Still though, you wouldn't let it bother you. In the worst case, you'd switch companies, maybe move somewhere else and he wouldn't be a problem anymore.

But Dr. Ratio seems to have different ideas. Management under his hand was very different. You were immidieately promoted to the highest rank, below manager. Much to your distaste, you had told him multiple times to promote one of your coworkers. They had much better qualifications for becoming a manager than you did. But alas, your protests always came to deaf ears.

Suddenly you were crushed by work, tons of pressure, and under his scrutiny. He was a big fan of doing big, risky projects. Ones that you'd always be responsible for if you failed. You'd try to politely deny his requests, but he'd insist, threatening that you'd be fired if you didn't pull through.

At one point you had just had enough.

You coldly place your resignation onto his desk. The box of your belongings was balanced between your hand and your knees.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"My resignation. I'm leaving." You say simply. "Don't try to convince me to stay. Working under you is simply not something I am suited for."

He seems uninterested. He raises an eyebrow at you. "Is that so? I was under the impression that you were doing quite well."

You didn't know whether you wanted to laugh or scream in that second. You were sure your hair was going to turn half-white before he picked up a goddamn clue. You suppose passing out three times and looking like you had your eyes punched wasn't a strong enough indicator.

"Ah... well... I'm flattered you think that way, but I really think it's time for me to move on...."

"And your plan after this is...?"

"Oh. Maybe work at someplace else." You lie, "I have a few options I can choose from, I'll probably end up working at one of those."

Dr. Ratio looks at your face, and then looks up and down. You stand there akwardly waiting for his approval to leave. You began counting down seconds. If he wasn't going to let you leave in the next two minutes, you'd walk out the door yourself.

"Why don't we sit down and talk first? Before you leave."

What? "Oh no sir.. it's fine... really..."

"It's been a few years since we've last seen each other and talked, hasn't it? I was wondering when you were going to approach me again. It's just a shame it's in this way."

He turns around and puts the sheet of paper into the shredder. You look back at him wide-eyed, debating on whether you would just walk straight out.

"Why don't you set your things aside? Maybe put them back on your desk? It's not like you'll be leaving soon. Unless you want to retire now?"

You open your mouth preparing to yell every curse word you can at him.

"Save your insults for later. Now tell me why you pretended not to recognize me for the past year I've worked here."

[belovedwhore]

pretty boy pt 4

ethan landry x reader

warnings: smut, little bit of plot, slight nipple play, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation

notes: sorry i’ve been gone for a while but i’m back and i come bearing gifts. i hope you enjoy this cuz i grinded this shit outttt. anyways enough chit chat please enjoy and indulge you ethan obsession below

also he was at econ

pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5 , pt 6

————————————————————————

it’d been almost a week since the party and the morning after where you and ethan had hooked up. you guys haven’t done anything since, not really having time between your opposing classes or any opportunities to sneak away from your friend group when you all hung out. but you’d see him tonight at yet another frat party chad was dragging your friend group to.

“chad what are you a frat boy now,” you asked while your friend group walked campus, making your way back to your apartments to get ready for the party.

it was already 7:30pm and you guys wanted to meet up again around 9pm to walk to the party together.

“fits the role, i mean look at him he’s a curly headed himbo,” tara teased.

“hey i’m not a frat boy,” chad argued, “but… if i were that wouldn’t be a bad thing ya know not all of them are douchey assholes.”

“yea, only ones named chad,” mindy chimed.

“oh fuck off,” he scoffed as the rest of us laughed.

after like twenty more minutes you arrived at tara’s apartment building. you held the door as mindy, tara, and anika headed inside. chad was going to head to his dorm to get ready and come back later.

“see you later,” he spoke as he started to leave.

“oh wait,” you stopped him, “is ethan coming tonight?”

he smirked at your question, making kissy faces teasingly as you inquired about your “friend”.

“oh fuck off is he or not?”

“yea he’ll be there but later than us, he has a late econ class tonight so he’s coming on his own,” chad finally answered.

“ok, good,” you replied nodding to yourself.

“well i’ll be back,” he said heading for the door, “see you soon sex demon.”

this goddamn nickname, fucking tara.

as promised chad returned about an hour later and you guys all left for the party. it wasn’t too far a walk, just fifteen from tara’s apartment. the theme for the party was neon so you opted for a white crop top with a neon pink skirt. the other girls pretty much went for the same thing just a different variety of colors. and of course our beloved himbo went for the sleeveless route with a pair of neon blue shorts. the five of you arrived at the house and were let into the party. it was a house party, nothing too crazy but there were a lot more people than usual, the lighting dim in the living room with blue leds around. anika and mindy left to go find a spot on a couch somewhere, they enjoyed people watching at these things. you, tara, and chad spotted a table of jell-o shots, each taking down three. you guys talked as the alcohol started to affect you, dancing and singing to the music. after a while you guys headed to kitchen to get some more to drink. the lighting was better in the kitchen as the three of you took three shots of vodka together. as you slightly zoned out you felt the shots start to warm your skin as you had just downed your sixth of the night, giggling with tara fumbling for a drink to carry around. snapping you out of your daze was a yell that came from chad.

“ethan,” he screamed across the island over the loud music, “you made it.”

ethan made his way to over to the them on the other side of the island, slightly stumbling.

he drunkenly laughed, “hey guysss, look it’s my friends!”

he wrapped his arms around the three of you, well as best as he could. you weren’t exactly sure how he was already drunk and better yet a little drunker than you.

“ethan buddy,” chad laughed, “when’d you get here and how are you so fucked up?”

“i’m not ‘fucked up’ chad,” he playfully punched him, “just slightly buzzed, and some guys from my class said they were coming here too and invited me to pregame.”

“pregaming wow,” tara gasped patting him on the shoulder, “who are you.”

you laughed at her exaggeration, tara was quite outspoken well more than usual and touchy when she drank, very similar to you.

she chirped, “chad come with me we’re gonna go kick ass at pong,” grabbing his hand leading him into the crowd.

“you mean i’m gonna kick ass at pong while you stand there looking hot,” he scoffed, allowing himself to be dragged away leaving you and ethan alone in the busy kitchen.

his hand began to dance along your waist tracing the exposed skin, sending chills up your body.

“i haven’t seen you in a while,” he told you, moving closer so you could hear him clearly.

“i know,” you swiftly answered.

“i’ve missed you, you know, in more ways than one,” he trailed off, his hand reaching up your back.

“oh really,” you inquired, “you’re cute like this.”

“like what.”

“drunk and talkative and touching me.”

“oh i-i could do more of that, hmm” he whispered moving closer to your face.

“mhmm i’d really like that-,” you rushed out kissing him quickly.

you both melted into the kiss, having not seen each other for days, longing for each others touch. ethan took control for the first time in this kiss. you felt him bite your bottom lip slightly, pulling it and using this as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. his tongue explored the depths of your mouth, eager to know you better. you moaned into the kiss, pulling him closer to you by his waist when suddenly you felt him pull away. you were both breathing heavily, his lips were red and plump from your kiss and you only wanted to do it again.

“upstairs,” he spoke, taking your hand and leading you to any empty room.

took about four tries but finally you found an unlocked and unoccupied room, rushing inside. as you entered the room ethan quickly resumed your kiss walking you back until the back of your legs hit the bed and you both fell atop of it. he hovered above you kissing you strongly and massaging your thigh. he brought your leg to his waist, grinding onto your center as he moved his lips to your neck. he kissed your earlobe, sucking marks into your skin that were sure to be seen tomorrow. you whimpered as he nipped at your neck, licking stripes after irritating the area.

“e-ethan,” you moaned, gripping his hair tightly.

moving your hand down his body you reached his clothed cock, hidden under his joggers. you began to palm him through the material, massaging his hardening member as he trembled above you. then you felt him grab your wandering hand and move it above your head, now straddling your hips.

breathing heavily he removed his own hand, moving his lips down your chest, pressing quick, wet kisses to your collarbone and down the valley of your chest. he rubbed your tits through your shirt and bra, peeling back the layers to reveal your plump tits and hardened nipples to the air. he immediately attached his lips to one nipple while playing with the other, rolling it between his fingers, pinching it. you squirmed under his body, yearning for any type of friction to help relieve pressure on the knot forming inside of you as he tended to you nipples. he switched to the other, swirling his tongue around the bud sucking on it. you jolted under him as he pinched and pulled at your chest, the fleeting pain soothed by the lick of his tongue.

“you are so fucking hot,” ethan groaned into your abdomen, kissing farther and farther down.

he reached your skirt, looking up to you for permission to take it off which you granted by helping him take them off. he now knelt on the ground in front of you on the bed, legs spread in front of him bearing your clothed cunt. he placed your legs over his shoulders, resting his head between your thighs, breathing directly on your cunt.

“ethan p-please,” you whined, moving your hips, pushing your mound closer to him begging him to do something, anything.

he pressed his thumb on your slit, running it through your clothed folds. you could feel his breath on your cunt, laughing to himself as he teased you. he found your clit, massaging it under his finger feeling it enlarge. taking a deep breath you quickly lightly kicked ethan onto the floor before removing your panties yourself since he clearly had no plan to anytime soon.

“stop fucking around,” you cursed breathlessly now sitting up on the bed with your legs spread.

you took off your shirt and bra, tossing them somewhere onto the floor. ethan still lay on the floor looking up at your now fully naked body. he was basically salivating at the lips, moving closer to you as you started moving your hands towards your bundle of nerves. you reached your cunt, dipping your fingers in one swipe making you moan loudly at the sensitivity of your nerves. ethan approached again, kneeling between your legs heading straight for your cunt. he licked between your folds as you lay back on your arms watching him.

“oh my god,” you moaned.

“y-you’re so wet,” he whispered between your legs, delving back into your pussy.

he placed his entire mouth on your heat, flicking his tongue between your folds, collecting your fluids. he sucked on your clit strongly, gripping your hips, keeping you close to his face. you dropped on the bed unable to hold yourself up any longer. whining under his touch, you grinded your pussy on his face eager for more.

“ethan fuck i-i,” you stuttered as he attacked your clit, “so good.”

he groaned at your praise, sending vibrations through your body as his mouth was attached to your heat. you could feel the bundle of nerves become tighter in tighter in your core, close to unraveling.

“m’ so close pretty boy,” you moaned out with a string of profanities.

suddenly you felt his tongue enter inside of you, licking the inside of your walls and you nearly came right there. you gasped, the feeling shocking you as you moaned with pleasure.

“don’t- don’t stop,” you pleaded although it was clear ethan had no intention of doing that.

he gripped your hips tighter, pushing his tongue deeper into your cunt, fucking you with it. you squirmed in his hold, struggling to keep yourself composed as you rapidly approached your high. your legs trembled on his shoulders as you started to lose strength in your limbs. fucking you harder and faster with his tongue you lost all composure and came hard. you released all over his tongue and mouth as he rode you through your high, still attached to your sensitive heat. your legs trembled, falling limp as your body shook with your orgasm, ripping through every part of you.

“ethan,” you groaned weakly, “fucking hell.”

you pulled him off of your cunt by slightly tugging on his hair, the overstimulation getting to be too much. he crawled up to your position on the bed, kissing your forehead and all around your face with your juices lathered across his face.

“good?” he asked as if you weren’t violently cumming in that very mouth sixty seconds ago.

“really fucking good,” you answered quietly.

“can you do it again?” he whispered, reaching his fingers down to toy with your pussy.

“you-” you gasped as he ran his fingers through your overly sensitive folds, “m’not gonna be able to walk.”

“i’m strong, i’ll carry you.”

“you’re not gonna fucking ca-,” you spoke interrupt by two of his fingers stretching your cunt.

“cmon for me,” he whispered, “for your pretty boy.”

you couldn’t deny the pleasure, as you nodded for him to continue fucking you with his fingers. he started slow, curling them inside you while observing your face contort at the stimulation. he kissed you softly as he began to fuck into you faster, curling deeper and harder into your already sensitive cunt. you moaned into the kiss, now opened mouthed looking at his fingers move in and out of you. as your head rolled back from the familiar building pressure in your cunt ethan placed kisses along your neck, sucking marks into the skin and whispering sweet nothings into your ear,

“gonna cum in my pants,” he breathed into your ear, “y-you’re too much.”

his words spurred you on as you rolled your hips against his fingers chasing your second release of the night. for the final time ethan increased his pace, now ramming his finger deeply into your cunt. the sound was obscene as his fingers rapidly entered your cunt still filled with your previous release along with your new arousal. you whimpered under his touch,

“oh my, fuck fuck,” you yelled, approaching your high.

ethan kissed you as your second orgasm ripped through you. you pushed his hand out of you, unable to take the overstimulation again. he rubbed your legs as they twitched while you came. your breath was heavy, unable to take the orgasms you’d reached in the span of five minutes. you turned your head towards him, kissing him weakly with all the strength you had.

“only you, pretty boy,” you spoke breathlessly, “only fucking you.”

he helped you sit up as you needed to get dressed.

“i was nervous,” he told you as he fetched your clothes from all over the room, “never done that before.”

“be nervous more then cause you nearly fucking killed me.”

he looked worried before you clarified, “in a good way.”

“ohhh, kay good,” he smiled kissing all over your face before helping you dressed.

you put on your bra and top okay. but you let ethan put on your skirt and panties because of the current state of your legs. he kneeled on one knee, letting you hold his shoulders as you stepped into your panties and he pulled them up your legs, same with the skirt.

“ok, let’s go everyone is probably looking for us,” you said as you stepped forward but faltered.

he caught you by your hips, laughing at your inability to really walk on your own.

you lightly punched him in the shoulder, “this isn’t funny, you did this to me. what are we supposed to tell everyone?”

“i don’t know,” he shrugged still smiling.

“oh fuck you,” you scoffed turning around, “now help me out of here.”

ethan hurried to your side, opening the door and guiding the two of you out of the room.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 18

Part 17

“You want my bite, I’ll give it to you!”, Billy shouted.

“I don’t want it anymore! I DON’T WANT YOU ANYMORE!”, Steve screamed back.

That was when Billy grabbed him and pulled at his shirt. Steve fought back, trying to push his head away but Billy’s teeth sunk into his skin. Steve’s fist met his head and knocked him back, but Steve lost his own footing and fell to the floor. That was the sight Eddie came to. The bite was on his shoulder, nowhere close to his mating gland actually, but he knew Billy wouldn’t miss his mark again if he got a chance.

Steve wasn’t able to calm Eddie before he was winding up, punching Billy square in the jaw. Billy stumbled and spit out some blood, but was grinning.

“I finally get to see the alpha that wants to take my place.”

“Put em up, douchebag, I’ve been waiting for a reason”, Eddie said, fists already up.

“You think you can take me?”, Billy taunted. 

“I’m gonna rip out your fucking throat.”

Steve was frozen, not sure if he should interrupt or not. If he left himself vulnerable, Billy would try and bite him again. And if they caused too much of a ruckus then Shawn would…His phone. It had been knocked out of his hand during the fight but if he got it, he could finish calling 911.

“COME ON!!”, Billy roared, prompting Eddie to finally lunge at him.

Steve looked around for his phone. He didn’t know how well Eddie did in a fight but he knew almost too well how Billy could hold his own. When Billy took Eddie down, Steve abandoned his search for his phone and pulled Billy off by the shoulders, then brought Eddie back to his feet.

“What kind of alpha are you that you need an omega to fight for you?”, Billy smirked.

“You fuckin’ piece of shit”, Eddie growled.

“Eddie”, Steve rubbed his back as Billy stood up, still ready for a fight, wanting for it. But all Steve did was open the door. “Just leave us alone. You’re lucky I’m not calling the cops on you.”

Just as he said that, they could hear a siren coming down the street. Steve walked out first, followed by Eddie as a cop car parked outside the house. They both looked to each other, confused, before getting eyes on Billy, standing by the open door.

“Who the fuck-”, then he turned at the barely audible sound of someone coming down the stairs.

Shawn had the house phone in his hand.

Billy’s shoulders began to shake with rage. “Tell me you didn’t call the goddamn cops on your own dad.”

“Billy don’t you touch him!”, Steve shrieked, running back for the door as Billy stalked towards the stairs.

But Billy was already there, grabbing Shawn by the arm and making him cry out in pain from the harsh grip. Steve tried to reach but Billy held him back with the other arm. Desperate, Steve spit in his face, shocking the alpha enough to get him to loosen his hold. Not wasting a moment, Steve took Shawn in his arms and sped over to the living room.

“My pup, my baby, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, you did great”, Steve soothed, rubbing his back.

Billy glared and that was when Eddie appeared, standing between his mate, pup and the intruder.

“Go outside”, he said firmly. He had been with the officer, stalling him long enough to convince him not to come into the house. He was glad Shawn had called the authorities, but that didn’t mean he trusted them fully. 

“Like hell I will-”

“That cop’s gonna come in here in about thirty seconds and he looks pretty trigger happy. Don’t test him”, Eddie warned.

Another car came down the street and within ten minutes, Billy was cuffed and stuffed into the back of one. Between the teeth marks on Steve, and the bruises forming on all three of them, the story was pretty obvious. Eddie did most of the talking, Steve interjecting when he needed to, but kept most of his focus on Shawn, who was still shaken. 

Putting his hands on their pup had been the one thing Billy had never done before. Steve wouldn’t forgive him for as long as he lived. Even when the failed bite on him healed and the bruise on his pup’s skin faded, Steve would never forgive him.

Eventually Billy was driven off and the house was quiet again. Steve texted Robin to let her know that Billy had come over but got arrested and she replied that she was coming over right away. 

“Are you mad at me?”, Shawn asked, voice quiet and quivering.

Steve kissed the top of his head. “Baby, you did the right thing.”

“We’re proud of you”, Eddie added. 

Shawn wiped his eyes. “Even though he’s going to jail?”

“He hurt you”, Steve said. “And he needs to be punished for it. I’m sorry I let it get this far.” He kissed Shawn’s head again and scented him, needing the comfort that his pup was safe just as much as Shawn needed it.

Robin arrived and her presence instantly brightened the mood around them. She prompted Shawn to go up and change for the day so that they could make smoothie bowls, giving Steve and Eddie time for themselves. They went up to their bedroom where Eddie tended to the bite marks so that they wouldn’t scar too badly.

There weren’t many words shared between them, letting their scents and touches do most of the talking. Knowing that whatever happened next, they’d face it as a family.

“You know this isn’t your fault, right? None of it”, Eddie said.

Steve shook his head. “I’m the one who made Billy feel like he could keep coming back. If I had been more-”

“It’s not your fault”, Eddie said. “Billy’s been an asshole since before that. And you can’t tell me otherwise, I was literally there.” Not for the first time he wondered how different their lives would have been if he had lingered that day in the hospital. “He’s never gonna hurt you again. Neither of you.”

Steve kissed him softly, then rubbed our cheeks together. “Or you.”

Eddie played it off with a gentle laugh. “Please, he barely nicked me.”

Steve rolled his eyes but played along. “My big, strong alpha.” He kissed him again, deeper this time.

“Mmm, tell me more.”

“Well, macho man, enjoy the next two days, because come Monday you’ll have to explain that shiner on your face.”

“Ooooor, I I take the day off and make a great dinner for you and Shawn when you get home~”

“Hmm”, Steve pretended to think about it.

Eddie grabbed his hand and kissed up his arm, describing the menu with each touch of his lips. “Fresh bread”, kiss, “with garlic confit”, kiss, “a fresh baked pie…” He kissed up Steve’s shoulder and met his lips.

“You drive a hard bargain, but alright. You definitely shouldn’t go into work looking like that anyway.”

Wounds began to heal and days turned into weeks as the weather began to warm. Steve had his phone facing Eddie as he came to the stage to speak. He started with welcoming the families for coming and then opened up the folder in his hands.

He remembered just two nights before, when Eddie agonized over who to give what award. Some were apparently very easy, while others hadn’t made quite the kind of splash to stand out. Thankfully there were plenty of ways to say ‘they were a good student’ without getting specific. There were quite a few going home with simply a citizenship award.

“I would like to award Shawn Harrington with excellence in math, reading, spelling, science, as well as outstanding citizenship.”

Steve shouted out for Shawn and he may be biased but Eddie looked a little more personally proud while watching their pup walk up and accept his awards. Eddie read the rest of the names and the ceremony continued with second, third, and fourth grade. When it ended, parents moved around the auditorium, congratulating their children and getting pictures of the occasion. 

Eddie was posing for one such photo with a group of boys and once it was taken, he made a beeline for Steve, kissing him squarely on the lips in the crowd, as if daring anyone to say anything. 

“Where’s Shawn?”, Eddie asked, looking around.

“Why Mr. Munson, are you saying you’ve lost my child?”, Steve gasped, bringing his hand to his mouth.

“Nope! Found him!”, Eddie pointed to Shawn posing for a picture with a classmate.

After the flash, he grabbed his friend’s hand and pulled him over. “Dad! Dad! Brian and I are planning a sleepover!”

“Oh are you?”, Steve grinned.

“What’s that?”, Brian asked, poking the small bulge of Steve’s stomach, causing him to jump a little at the random poke.

“Hey!”, Shawn exclaimed. “Careful, my baby sister’s in there.” He hugged Steve around the waist.

“Oh, you’re having a girl?”, Brian’s mother appeared.

“We’re not sure yet”, Steve said as Eddie’s arm came around him. “But Shawn’s pretty sure of it.” He had been saying that he was getting a little sister ever since they confirmed Steve’s pregnancy. Shawn had already started throwing out girl’s names, he was that confident. And Steve was tempted to at least give him middle name privilege. 

The only thing he was unsure of was the gender of their pup, they were keeping it a surprise for now. But everything else in his life, his alpha, his love, his son, his whole life - he was entirely certain. 

Eddie had been happy back at the beginning of the school year. His life had been going fine. But now he was literally walking on clouds and it was all thanks to the two angels (soon to be three) that came into his classroom.

END (Epilogue)

Whew! Thank yall for joining me on this one! Hopefully I'll see you on the next!

Taglist

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

@hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre @a-lovely-craziness @sharingisntkaren

[specialagentlokitty]

Negan x reader - insanity comes and goes

Hands stuffed in your pocket, you grinned a little bit at the man who was stood in front of you, bat over his shoulder while his people fixed their guns in you.

“So, (Y/N), are you gonna tell me why you’re skulking around home? How’d you get so far?”

“Why would I do that? Takes all the fun out of the game Negan.”

He hummed a little, walking over and he looked at you, reaching up to brush some hair from your face.

“Why not join me? You could have anything you ever wanted here, that prick can barely offer you any food. You tell me what he’s planning and I’ll let you keep your shit, and give you more.”

This had been his play the entire time, Negan was sure that he could turn you against Rick and the others and use you as a double agent.

The issue with that is that was boring, and you didn’t feel like selling out your friends just for some stuff that didn’t even matter in this world anymore.

You smirked a little, and in a swift motion took the bat from his hands.

“Give Lucille back!” He roared.

“Aw is this special to you? You want it back you big baby?”

You raised your brows in suggestion then you moved your hand, flinging the bay across the fence, out into all of the walkers.

“Oops.”

He stormed over, grabbing you by the collar he landed a punch on your face, and he slammed you against the fence.

He sneered, clenching his jaw.

“Whatever game you’re fucking playing, I’m done with it. I’m going to have tour god damn bones sent back to the prick…”

“And I’m gonna haunt your ass until you go insane.” You smirked.

You tossed you aside, and you heard a loud bang before everything went black.

“Get me Lucille!” He snapped.

He looked down at your body, bullet in your head, and he walked past you over to his men and back inside.

He ordered somebody to take your body and throw it to the walkers, and he began gathering a company to pay Alexandria a visit, less than impressed with your visit.

He walked outside, and he was stopped by Simon.

“She’s gone.”

“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone? She wasn’t exactly fucking going anywhere Simon!”

“She’s gone Negan, someone came outside to move the body and it’s not there, there isn’t even a blood trail.”

Negan yelled, slamming his fist into the side of the truck.

“Then they find it!”

He got into the truck, balling his hands into fists in pure rage.

He stayed silent as they made their way to the community, and the gates were opened when they arrived.

“Rick!” He roared.

Said man came jogging over, slowly down to a walk.

“That bitch of a friend of yours, you send her to my home?”

“Who?” Rick asked confused.

“(Y/N), because I hate to break it to you but I put a bullet in the middle of her pretty little head, but now her body is missing, so how many did you send?”

“I never sent anyone.”

Negan grabbed Rick by the back of his shirt, dragging him towards his house and the people followed to see what was going on.

He tossed Rick to the ground and Negan took his gun, aiming it at Carl.

“You tell me the truth, or I put a bullet in your goddamn son too.”

“Oo scary.” You mocked.

“What the fuck?”

Negan turned around to see you sitting on the curb, and you grinned, offering him a little wave.

“Holy crap, now either you’re dead and I’m seeing shit, or there’s more than one of you.”

You hummed a little bit.

“No, just want. I don’t think poor Rick here could handle more than one of me, I annoy him enough.”

“Now I remember watching a bullet go through your brain.”

“Oh yeah? What it look like? Was there a lotta blood? Cause that’s always a fun way to die.”

“Let’s fucking find out!”

Negan took Rick’s gun and aimed it at you, pulling the trigger and a few people screamed.

Negan looked around at them all, noticing the lack of horror or sadness on their faces.

“Come on! What’s wrong with your people I just killed your friend!”

You pushed yourself up, rubbing your forehead, and you looked at your blood on the floor.

“Damn, that is a lot of blood.”

“What the fuck?!”

Negan walked over, shooting your again, and he grabbed his bat, hitting you a few times for good measure.

Your blood splattered his clothes and the ground, and he just stood there looking at you, watching you.

“(Y/N)s just going to wake up again.” Carl called.

Negan looked to him, and Carl shrugged a little bit.

“Apparently out of all the people in the world, death just don’t like me.” You said.

You sat up, wiping the blood from your eyes and you watched Negan spun around with a mortified look on his face.

He’d seen some shit, and done some shit, but this? This was something different compared to anything he had ever seen or done.

“What the shit is wrong with you? Why won’t you die?!”

He swung his bat again, this time keeping an eye on you, and he could see the blood stop flowing from your wound, and you grinned a little bit.

“Please keep going, maybe I can actually get a good night sleep for once.”

He took a few steps away from you, and you sat in your own blood, just grinning from ear to ear at him.

“I told you I’d haunt your ass…”

Negan looked to Rick.

“Tell me this shit ain’t real.”

“No, it’s real. Apparently there’s just no getting rid of (Y/N) at this point.” Rick sighed.

You pushed yourself up, wiping your hands on your shirt.

“Nope, you’re stuck with my ass until you die!” You beamed.

“This is fucking insane. You’re fucking insane.” Negan said.

You gave a half shrug.

“Maybe just a lot, yeah. Sanity comes and goes.”

You took a step forward and he subconsciously took one back.

The problem with being human was that no matter how big and tough you acted, if you saw something that wasn’t natural, your immediate response is to stay away from it.

So Negan pulled Rick in front of him and you stopped walking.

“What the actual fuck…? Now I got some psychos in my lot, but you? You’re a whole new level of fucked.”

“I know! It’s great!” You laughed.

You bent down, picking up a tree branch and you looked at Negan.

“So, who do you think will win? Me or you? Cause I’m kinda wondering how long it’ll take me to beat the shit outta you with this branch before it breaks.”

“You come any closer and I’ll paint the ground with his blood.”

You hummed.

“Yeah, okay.”

You tossed the stick aside.

“Oh by the way Negan, you should probably evacuate your base.”

“What the fuck did you do?”

“I maybe have rigged some explosives. I was bored waiting for you.”

Some of his men began running back to their cars and trucks.

“You should probably find them before someone triggers one.” You smirked.

He clenched his jaw, pushing Rick to the ground.

“Run…” you whispered.

You grabbed the stick and ran after them all, yelling as they jumped into their vehicles to try and get away from you.

It made you laugh loudly and you swung it at the door of Negans truck.

“You fucked it Negan! You can’t kill me but I can kill the shit out of you!”

He stuck his middle finger up at you as he drove away and you grinned proudly at Rick and a Michonne.

Daryl put his arm around your shoulders.

“See, this is why we need a crazy immortal son of a bitch.” He said.

“Yeah, what he said.”

“Well, at least that’ll make him rethink his next plans for a while.” Michonne said.

And it did.

Negan was now rethinking what he had been doing there.

People were a resource, he didn’t want to kill them, and apparently no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t kill you.

So he had to find a way to get around that if he wanted to keep doing what he was doing, but a voice in the back of his head was also warning him not to cross paths with you again.

But he wasn’t one to back down from a fight, and this just made things a whole lot more interesting

[strangersteddierthings]

Steve, Gareth and Chrissy are cousins AU (sad edition) [prologue] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Final Part]

"Oh Boom!" Steve cheers, stepping though the plants, "Bada bing, bada boom! There she is, Henderson. Skull Rock. In your face, man. In your stupid, cocky little face."

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin mutters, following after him.

"Yeah, yeah. Even with it staring you in the face, you can't admit it. Can't admit you're wrong, you butthead," Steve says, one hand on his hip as he looks up at Skull Rock.

"I concur," Eddie's voice is preceded by the thump of his landing, which causes Steve and Dustin to turn around to, "You, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead."

"You son of a bitch!" a different, familiar voice shouts, and Steve watches, to his increasing horror, as Gareth rounds the rock Eddie just jumped off and beelines for Steve. He's too shocked to do anything other than watch as Gareth plants his palms to Steve's chest and shoves.

Steve goes down hard, arms pinwheeling. He hears several people call his name but the white noise his brain is generating has blocked out everything except Gareth. Gareth, who stands before him, chest heaving in his anger, hand back to his sides and fists clenched.

"Where were you!?" Gareth screams at him, and Steve can see tears threatening to fall. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"Excuse me, but who are you?" Robin asks, stepping forward and into Steve's periphery. The white noise quiets just a bit as he watches Robin whip to Eddie. "Who is he?"

Eddie says something back, but Steve doesn't fully hear it before Gareth has taken a step forward, closer, pulling all his attention again and Gareth asks again, quietly, "Where were you?"

Steve swallows, looking Gareth up and down. He's dirty, much like Eddie, and not wearing shoes. Why isn't he wearing shoes? What happened to them? He looks back up to Gareth's face. To the anger he can see, is sure everyone else can see, too. But, also, to the sorrow, the fear, the hurt underneath it all. Steve opens his mouth, a thousand questions on his tongue. Where are your shoes? How did you get here? When? I tried to keep you out of this, I wanted to keep you out of this. Why are you here? But, instead, what comes out is, "I'm sorry."

Those words seem to break Gareth. A choked off sob rips from his throat and he drops to his knees, curling in on himself. Steve, always protective, moves to comfort him at the same time as Eddie does but Eddie beats him there, kneeling down to be at Gareth's side, concern etched in every line of him. Eddie places a hand on Gareth's back, near his shoulder, rubbing small, soothing circles there.

It makes something squeeze deep inside of him, to see Eddie caring for Gareth so much, even as Eddie is now glaring at Steve in defense of whatever slight he thinks Steve has caused. Or maybe he knows. Maybe Gareth told him. Told him how Steve is the worst cousin in the world, failed to protect Chrissy. Failed Gareth, too, since he's here, barefoot in the middle of the goddamn woods instead of safe in his home.

Robin's arm hooking under Steve's own breaks him from his thoughts. He lets Robin help him stand, and watches as Eddie does the same for Gareth, and for a moment, the whole forest is quiet.

But they have Dustin with them, so that doesn't last long. "Can someone explain what the hell is going on? Why's Gareth here?"

Steve doesn't even have it in himself to scold Dustin for his language.

Eddie and Gareth exchange looks, a silent communication so like how he is with Robin that it gut-punches him, and then Eddie says, "it's, uhh, quite a story."

"Start telling it, then," Nancy says gently but still with her usual no nonsense undertone.

They get a story told by both. When Eddie pauses, Gareth picks up the tale, and the vice versa. When Gareth gets choked with emotion, such as explaining that Chrissy is his cousin, Eddie takes over and explains. He says nothing about Steve, doesn't even imply he knows more, so... maybe Gareth hasn't told him Steve is also his cousin?

Then they talk about Patrick and Nancy wants to know the time, and soon it's back to dealing with the Upside Down. Something's up with Dustin's compass they have to go investigate now, and Steve thinks everyone's forgotten the weird tension of Gareth shoving him down and demanding to know where he's been.

Everyone but Robin, it seems, who hangs back to ask about it as they follow Dustin and his broken compass.

"So, how do you know Gareth?" Robin asks, uncertain.

Steve frowns at the back of Gareth's head, where he walks ahead with Dustin and Eddie. "He's my cousin."

"Oh!" Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, looking from Gareth to Steve, as if she can spot a family resemblance from the back of Gareth's head. "How did I not know that?"

"Gareth asked to pretend we weren't related when he started high school," Steve shrugs. "Was afraid it would ruin his 'street cred'."

"What a nerd."

"Right?" Steve chuckles at that and they walk in silence for a bit longer before Robin gasps like she's dying. A realization.

"Steve," she breaths out, a hand flying out to grab onto Steve's shoulder in an almost painful grip. He's so glad she's keeping quiet, as she whispers, "was Chrissy your cousin, too?"

Steve swallows and nods.

"Steve, I-"

"No. Not now. Not the time," Steve cuts her off, prying his hand from her arm. "Please, Robbie. I can't think about that now. Please."

Robin doesn't look happy about the development but she gives a nod, swallowing around the lump in her throat now.

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!!

Welcome back! =D

Part 2

Warning: long, long post (also a part 2 but I think y'all are used to it by now-) 😊😅

MattMick!! Also, Beer looking between them like that and Q and Toey peeking from behind cracked me up hehe

Also, does that mean Beer is single? Wait, maybe he's aroace. That'd be really cool.

I did see some hints of a throuple of him and MattMick, but I'm happy with either option.

SO CUTE 🥺🫶🏼

Poor QToey 😭

Their romantic moment got rained on so hard-

Exhibit: Here you can see three males from the species Homo sexuals. Two of them are already mated, and the third is in the courting process. We think the other male is interested too.

Oh- But I thought- oh, this makes sense actually. So the others know. I mean not really surprising when you think about it, to be honest.

With his unprecedented levels of obliviousness? Yeah, no, I get where you're coming from, Chain.

That's your biggest concern about getting a penguin?? 😭😭

Why does Peem look like the exasperated mom friend of the group 😭

After all the tiny crumbs of the past *checks notes* 8262 eps, this is a lot of progress.

HANDS. (I will never stop screaming about hands.)

Cuteee

Peem, babe, he hardly ever goes to class anyways. He's too busy following you around like a puppy.

Me, who holds handholding above everything else (yes, even sex): *DEEP BREATHS THROUGH THE NOSE* I'm fine. *SMOKE COMING OUT OF EARS* Totally fine.

Nothing to say, just a really good shot. (Also, Phuwin's exasperated smile seemed too real and then I learned Pond improvised that scene and yeah, that explains it)

ChainPun: only two people with matching pillow cases

QToey: missing (me?) [Sorry I couldn't resist 😭]

TanFang: peacefully asleep

PhumPeem: chronic insomnia, aggravated by Tan's snores

Matt: cuddling Mick

Beer: dreaming of him and his friends and their boyfriends all graduating with good grades

ChainPun. <33

Let me wrap this moment in my memory forever. (I tried to adjust the lighting a bit but it didn't really work out 😭)

AJSSHUJKJ!!!!! THEY GIVE ME TWO MAKE OUT SESSIONS WITHIN THE SPAN OF LIKE 4 MINUTES AND EXPECT ME TO BE SANE ABOUT IT???

No.

Look, we all expected this. I even said on record I wouldn't survive. And all that mental Muay Thai still didn't prepare me for this.

Till now, I have watched 60 BLs, give or take, so I've seen a lot of NC scenes. Compared to some of them, this is very PG-13, but this one really got me, like very few sex scenes have managed to. The intimacy, the palpable love, want. It all came together so beautifully in this scene.

Them saying 'I love you' during sex is canon! Yay! I knew it in my guts (wrote a fic about it) but feels so good to be right in canon hehe.

"I love you too, now kiss me again."

HANDS!!!! (It's canon now, they hold hands during sex, and so I can freely write a fic about it. Not that something not being canon ever stopped me but yeah.)

Fang: my brother is in safe hands. 😌

Also, love how Peem didn't hesitate to at the chance to kick both brothers and make it a streak 😭👍🏼

Honestly though, this scene shows that Peem is going to go to very long lengths to make sure Phum is okay, even kicking his own brother (which assures me that Peem maybe wouldn't hesitate that much to sucker punch their dad either, which is important information to have for possible future fics.)

How can one man be so goddamn cute??

The whimpering puppy noises- 😭

Cakes are so hard to bake, for real. This one is so cute though 😭😭🫶🏼

Puppy Phum- honestly is anyone surprised? No? Thought so.

This smile-

It holds so much happiness and the brunt of so many years of trauma. It's so beautiful. I'm probably gonna rewatch the heck out of this scene.

I end Part 1 here, Part 2 will be out (hopefully) soon!

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊 (All mistakes are mine, but in my defense, I literally fell asleep while writing this.)

Here, have a pie (of your favourite flavour) 🥧