#she was calm collected and ANGRY when she showed up but. but i want to know how she Really felt

[narugen-moved]

thinking about this post i made (anime only’s there are spoilers for manga) and with the release of episode 10

i can't even imagine how mina felt when she came back to HER base in ruins, her men injured, or worse - dead. she came back to her base destroyed, and her second in command on the verge of death.

do i think mina's faith in hoshina is so little that she thinks he would have died? no. do i think that she was terrified regardless, seeing everybody risk their lives - especially hoshina, the person she kept by her side for years, almost get himself killed for the sake of the division and for her? yes.

this shot in particular (which was not in the manga) makes me wonder if mina was thinking: ah. here we go again. everybody's risking their lives down there and i'm up here. alone. i have to do well. i have to make my mark.

it's just so important to remember mina quite literally almost lost her home base, her childhood friend, and her vice-captain overnight.

[aerithmybbgmypookiemywife]

Genshin SAGAU where GN! Reader reads a fanfic about them being a sub.

people of tevyat look in horror as a fanfic about you being a sub is released, not knowing you ARE actually a sub. not proofread. also shoutout to @/gameperson23100 (not sure how tags work here im just a tumblr noob so i just did like a twitter thing) they were in my comments on my first post about this and had an idea about a sub reader! i just expanded on it a little :))

Creator! Reader who seems so elegant yet have such an untouchable aura towards them. Everyone praises them for being so mature, for being so calm and collected towards stressfull siturations, everyone fawns over them. Just one glance from their slightly intimidating eyes has their knees trembling. The archons praise them as someone to really look up to, a true pillar of Tevyat.

When fanfictions like the Creator x Reader became popular, there was an unsaid rule that you were the dominant one in the relationship.

So imagine everyones suprise when a book from an anonymous author potraying the Creator as a sub pops up in Inazuma. Yae Miko was suprised this was published unsupervised! She shut it down but it was too late, almost all of its copies were sold! Everyone was baffled at how the author potrayed the Creator, when it came to their duties, the author wrote them perfectly but when it came to the romance between the Creator and whoever the reader is... It was a catastrophe! The Creator? Submissive?? Down on their knees?? Begging?! Getting degraded and liking it?!?!

BLASPHEMY!

People of Tevyat were conflicted at this book, everyone had divided opinions. Some saying that the Creator is a sub, while some saying they are a dom. There are a few people who suggest that the Creator may be a switch but this gets shut down by both sides. It even reached the scholars of Sumeru! With debates turning into heated arguments that escalates into fights.

The archons, except Nahida, were upset at this book as this somewhat taints your image. (although they secretly love the idea of the creator being beneath their feet) The acolytes were also divided and different opinions, with Alhaitham finding it somewhat interesting while Kaeya found it a little hilarious and treated the book like a parody. Xiao on the other hand, had the same opinion as Zhongli, the book may taint your image thus he made it his mission to hunt down the anonymous author. Itto, who got the book from a random stranger he befriended, treated the book like a sacred scripture or a guilty pleasure. He knows it's probably bad but he just can't stop reading it! Wriothesley read the book during tea time, and thought that the idea of the Creator being a sub was possible...

"And that concludes the report on Fontaine." Neuvillette concluded his report. You only hummed in response as you looked around the room. the Archons were there and some acolytes were also present in the meeting. You felt as if they have something they want to ask but is holding themselves back.

'...Is it about the book...? Fuck, why did it have to be so accurate...' you thought.

You cleared your throat, "I'm sure all of you are aware of a certain book going around." you spoke up, their minds started scrambling, thinking that you would be upset and angry that they haven't found the author yet. "Your Grace, we are all working hard to hunt down the author and imprison whoever they are." Zhongli spoke up, you shook your head.

"No need, it's... An interesting book." you told them, you cleared your throat again, trying to ease your embarrassment. That book ended on a cliff hanger too! No way in hell were you going to imprison the author after writing an accurate potrayal of you!

Everyone didn't show it in their face but they were shocked, but even more shocked at how red your ears are while you tried to keep a calm face. Did this mean that you didn't mind the potrayal of the book about you?! Or are you truly a sub?! Do you just like the book?! What is it???!! HOW IS IT INTERESTING??!!? Their minds were filled with unanswered questions.

Word spread to Tevyat really fast, and as soon as they heard that you called the book interesting, it just added more fuel in the debates about you being a sub or a dom. Like two groups in the same fandom fighting for their non canon ship! The book would still be treated like an illegal book, a guilty pleasure.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.

Drabble Masterlist

"Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.

After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.

"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.

He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."

All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."

Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."

"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.

"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.

"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.

"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"

"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."

Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."

Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.

[ravenelyx]

I need you. - Sebastian Sallow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Chapter Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Sebastian needs to be snuggled, Sebastian is also sad, and Sebastian needs love, neck kissing, cuddling and snuggling, Soft!Sebastian Supremacy, House or gender is not specified, (implied) established relationship, use of 2nd person for the reader

Summary: Sebastian has different ways of dealing with being hurt. One of them is burying his face in your chest while you cuddle him

A/N: IT'S SALLOW SUNDAY and since people seem to like my soft!seb heacanons, I wrote a whole fic instead <3 I woke up feeling snuggly, sooo...

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic on ao3 as well <3

Ominis' version

You didn't even hear his steps, yet when you saw a grimace creep up on Leander's face as he spoke to you, and strong arms wrap around your torso, you knew.

Sebastian left a soft kiss on the top of your head, looking at Leander with a small frown. You thought it must be one of those things only boys understood, because Leander sighed and nodded, without saying a word. Sebastian relaxed against you.

Pair of eyes looked between the two boys, as if expecting a fight to come out of it, but Leander just smiled in acknowledgement. "Sallow." Then his eyes met yours. "I'll see you in class. Don't forget your Leechjuice again."

You rolled your eyes. "It was one time."

Many people mistook it for possessiveness. You knew the real reason for it.

Leander walked away, waving you a goodbye, and Sebastian leaned his head against yours.

"Hi," you whispered with a small smile. He nuzzled your cheek, leaning his weight on your back.

While you never reproached him for showing his touchy side in public, you were starting to feel a little self-conscious of all the curious eyes piercing the two of you, so you turned around in his arms — albeit with great difficulty as his iron grip on you seemed unmovable — and cupped his cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You swore you saw a few tears collect in his eyes as you spoke, so you walked him backwards to a more secluded bench. He sat down and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

After two years of dating, Sebastian had no more qualms about showing you his need for affection. You were there through it all: when Anne was cursed, when Sebastian desperately tried to find a cure, and even now, when he was diving into a dangerous path with his new friend. He had begun to rely on you, and on something only you could give him.

Security.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, affectionately scratching his scalp, and he let out a soft whine – a whine of pleasure, and a whine of something else. Something sad and guilty and that made him tighten his grip against you and bury his face in your chest.

"He has sent another letter!" he began, running his hands along your back and hips. You learned it was a way for him to reassure himself and calm down. "He told me the if I don't stop, he'll never let me see Anne again!"

Your face softened, hand now cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Usually, when Sebastian had a fight with Solomon, he'd retreat in the Undercroft, angry and incensed and ready to burn his own rage to the sound of very loud Confringo's. But there were times when his uncle's words got to him, made his heart sink with the need of a love that was stripped from him. A love he tried to silence by hugging his pillow tight at night when he was young. A love he found in you.

"He won't actually do it. Anne will always be your sister," you reassured him softly. "She'll want to see you, and he can't stop her from that."

He breathed heavily in your chest, pressed his palm under your thighs to pull you further in.

"She doesn't agree with what I'm doing…" He muffled his broken voice in your shirt.

"I know…"

"And she might stop loving me…" he said tearfully.

"She won't." You said earnestly. "She's your twin. In her heart, she knows she'd do the same for you."

He trembled a little, emotions threatening to explode.

"You don't trust Solomon," you began, stroking his hair, "but you can trust me. And you can trust Anne."

He stopped quivering, and you could almost feel the gears turn in his brain at your words. He began to kiss you through your shirt in gratitude.

You thought the position must have been uncomfortable to him, even if he didn't show it, so you slightly pushed his torso back, his face leaving your chest with a displeased frown, and leaned him on the seatback a little, then nestled in his arms, face nuzzling his neck. He sighed in relief as you cuddled against him.

"I know I'm too much sometimes…" he said in a small voice, hiding his face in your hair.

"You're not," you answered immediately. You could see his insecurities start to creep up on him, and you wouldn't have that.

"I annoy you."

"You don't," you protested, looking up at him in concern.

"I always come to you—"

"I'm glad you do."

"—and I'm always too needy."

"I don't see a problem with that."

You sighed and cupped his cheek again, drawing him down to press your mouth to his. It took a small touch for him to ignite, leaning his whole torso over you to deepen the kiss, desperately tugging at your lips. He pulled back with a grimace again when he noticed, and turned away, almost guilty.

"Don't refuse my affection," you whispered.

"I will consume you."

"I'm yours anyway."

He looked back at you, eyes fleeting over the gentle smile on your lips.

"Now come and kiss me a little more."

The battle in his mind seemed to settle immediately, and he lunged forward, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you in place as his lips feasted on yours. His other arm circled your waist, holding you impossibly tight against him. And he was everywhere — his body caging yours, lips hungrily pulling and biting and bruising, hands desperately kneading your flesh, prising your shirt open to touch your bare skin. You felt dizzy at the force of his affection, and you knew he was right. He would consume you, like a wildfire, an eruption, a cataclysm about to blow your heart in a pulp of blood and passion as his tongue claimed yours. And you'd stop feeling like a person at his touch, so overcome by him you'd lose yourself. And then he'd settle it all right, kissing the blood off your lips with reverence, caressing your bruises gently, putting order into your feelings and reminding you once again that you would do anything for him.

"I need you," he breathed out, dipping his head in the crook of your neck. "Every day…"

You didn't stop him when he sucked a love bite into your skin.

"It's a good thing I feel the same," you chuckled.

"Even if you don't need me as much as I need you—"

"I need you more than you can imagine."

He looked up at you, and you kissed his lips again. This time he was gentle as well.

"Don't stop coming to me. Ever."

He nodded and kissed you again. And again. And again. And again, until Professor Weasley reproached the both of you for inappropriate behaviour and sent you to detention for a week.

And he'd kiss you there, too.

[killakalx]

killa ur one of my absolute fav jason writers so i felt the urge to share w u what has been rotting my brain recently. all i can think abt is ak/rh!jason meeting robin!reader for the first time. at first he’s angry, enraged, really, seeing flashes of red and green prancing across rooftops like you don’t have a care in the world. he has half a mind to beat some sense into you, knock that ‘i’m invincible in this suit’ mentality right out of your pretty little head. until he sees you up close, because that kevlar vest can’t hide the swell of your chest, and of course he notices the way your cape flares out to accommodate for the curve of your ass. just imagining the way he’d get obsessed, always cornering you in dark alleys just to rile you up and make you feel guilty that somebody like him has your panties all sticky and your thighs clenching, only to leave you high and dry ‘til the next time he ‘coincidentally’ runs into you during your solo patrols. kicking my feet js putting this into words he’s actually taken over all my thoughts i can’t function 😵‍💫

omg wait ilysm nonnie ☹️❤️ im glad my writing for jason is what you like!!!

ok i’m gonna edit ur take just a lil bit bc if you want me to be so honest rn, the idea of reader as a robin implies to me that reader’s still kinda young. ik that isn’t the fact but i just associate robin with being tiny and thrilled to get your life destroyed by an old man in a bat costume. now if we go about it like reader’s being mentored by b-man and has been for a long time, so it’s obvious to jason that she’s got that lil invincible flair? i’m all for it. cuz i feel like jason has beef with anyone who subjects themself to the same things he did when he was under batman’s wing.

now i’m not gonna say jason’s a stalker but yk. he’s definitely keeping track of you. judging your every move and making sure to be as hypercritical as possible, just to distract him from how badly he wants to ruin you himself. two things immediately came to my mind when i read this and it was brat taming and corruption, but jason as a brat tamer is always in the back of my mind somewhere 🫣 he’s almost looking forward to the moment he gets you to pounce on him with some sneaky shit, waiting for you to pull something just so he can show you how easily he’ll have you right under his thumb. and every time he corners you it’s a little game- he’s wondering if you’re feeling feisty and wanting to give him a hard time or if you’re gonna be all calm and collected and try to outsmart him. he almost finds it pitiful, really, if not entertaining.

then suddenly you’re looking forward to the moment he’s got you really cornered, head to head with him and he’s giving you that death stare even from under the blank helmet. “i know you like this stupid little game,” he’d taunt after getting you in a chokehold all the way up against his chest and pelvis. “aww, he didn’t teach you how to get outta this one yet?” when he definitely has, and you can’t quite figure out what exactly you’re supposed to do when you’re caught off guard by the little tingle between your legs. not to mention how the tight grip around your neck has you gasping… god you’re ashamed of yourself, and he can tell with the look of frustration under that cute cowl. you can’t tell that he’s enjoying this too, and he makes sure of that. just know that he’s eager to hear your half-assed protests and how you “shouldn’t be doing this with him” while he’s… 🤭 mmmm ak!jason todd w a corruption kink save me pls

[sweetyyhippyy]

Through the Radio. Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader. *ANGST*

Summary: Eddie's girlfriend is still grieving the loss of him after almost a whole year. Little does she know, he's still alive.

Word Count: 2k

TW: Death. Grieving. Mentions of sex (no details).

Note: I know that talking through the radio isn't how it worked on the show, but this is my story and I wanted it to work this way 🤣🤣

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This would have been the first time she had went to Lover‘s Lake without Eddie in tow.

She parked her car, far away from everyone else that was there. She sat in the driver side with the car idled while a mixed tape that Eddie had made for her months before his death playing softly in the back, staring at the full moon that was right in front of her window.

Some days were better than others for her grief. Only crying 3 times on a good day before noon, rather than her usual 5 or 6 by then. Today was an even worse day.

She decided with the rough day that she had; to go to the lake, somewhere that her and Eddie would frequent to just get away from the noise of their homes. It was the one place that she felt like she was still connected to him.

For the first night in almost a week, the skies were clear from the nighttime storms that were happening. All you could see was the twinkling stars in the sky and the moon lighting up the sky.

Going out to the lake on nights similar to this was their favorite type of date. Where all you could hear were the crickets chirping in the distance, and the calming sounds of the lake.

They both loved laying in the back of Eddie’s van with the back doors opened, laying on the makeshift bed that Eddie had set up with a collection of warm blankets and a ton of pillows for them. Music would be playing softly in the back, that way they could both still hear each other talking when they didn’t have their lips pressed against each other’s.

She couldn’t help but replay the night she lost Eddie in her mind over and over again on her bad days. She couldn’t help but think about everything she could have done differently, the biggest thing: not going with Steve, Robin, and Nancy to the Creel house to take down Vecna. In her mind, she had convinced herself that if she was with Eddie and Dustin instead, that Eddie would still be alive.

Of course everyone said that there was nothing she could have done to help save Eddie, but they had to say that to keep her from completely losing her mind.

For almost a whole month after the night in the upside down, she didn’t speak to Steve, still hurt that he was the one that dragged her away from Eddie’s lifeless body, not budging while she tried to wiggle out of his arms and run back to him.

She begged Steve to at least take him back with the group, but nobody was strong enough to lift him up through the gate, especially with Dustin being injured. Steve had to snap at her, telling her that it wasn’t going to happen.

He took it while she screamed, cursed, and hit him. Steve knew that at some point she would get over it, and that she was doing it because she was sad and angry, he never took her words to heart.

She felt such guilt leaving him there, especially when she had to tell Eddie’s uncle that he was gone, and that he couldn’t even tell his nephew goodbye properly because “they couldn’t find his body” after the earthquake.

The beginning of the song “The Ocean” by Led Zeppelin snapped her out of her thoughts, making her aware of her thoughts, and just how loud they were. Her already sore eyes were filled with tears, all of them rolling down her cheeks as she finally blinked.

“Shit, Eddie… It’s real bad today. Everything I see reminds me of you. And it hurts worse to be constantly reminded that you’re really gone than it was to lose you to begin with.” She says to nobody, just venting her feelings out into space.

“You would be so mad at me, but I can’t help but wish that it was me instead.” Her whole body shook as she sobbed, covering her face with her hands. “I just wish you were here. I can’t do this anymore.”

Eddie could hear her clear as day from the other side, his own heart aching at the hurt in her voice while she called out for him. He knew it wasn’t a good idea to lie to her and pretend to be dead, but it was what was best for himself, just until his name could be cleared for Chrissy’s murder, Dustin said that he would make sure it happened.

Almost a whole year had passed, and he was still stuck in the darkness that was the upside down, still healing from almost being ripped to shreds by the demonic bats that inhabited the other world.

Dustin found a way to come visit Eddie so he wasn’t completely alone all the time, keeping him up to date on music and whatever else that he was missing in the real world. Every single time, Eddie would ask how his girl was doing, even though he already knew how she was doing.

“I just need to find a way for her to know I’m still here. You know how many times she’s changed the lightbulbs around her place because she thinks they’re going out? It’s not doing anything, man.” Eddie explained to Dustin on one of the nights he came to visit, bringing him some food, and some more clothes.

“She can’t know too much. You were the one that wanted it to be this way.”

“Yeah, I wanted it to be this way, but only because you said you could get my name cleared, Henderson. I wasn’t planning on staying in this hell hole my whole life! I need to let her know. I can’t take hearing her in pain anymore.”

Dustin sighs, thinking of a way he can still give Eddie both of the things he wants. “You’re going to have to play ghost.”

“What? I’m not actually dead, Henderson. What do you mean, play ghost?”

“It’s like when we talked to each other through the lite brite when all of you went through water gate. But instead of the light, you communicate with her through her radio at home. You have to go to her house here, and then talk to her through the stations.”

As much as he wanted to be with her through her tough thoughts, he needed to trek his way through the upside down to her house in order to “talk” to her tonight.

Even with the darkness and all the vines that were covering the “upside down” version of her room, Eddie still felt happy just standing somewhere he hadn’t been in a while. He missed the baby pink walls, the cute little stuffed animal corner she had, and that he added to when they were together, and the posters of Eddie Van Halen and Rob Lowe that were taped to her wall.

Eddie found the radio that sat on the nightstand next to her bed, brushing off the weird dust particles that covered it. He knew that as soon as she got home, she would turn it on, giving him the power to “talk” to her from where he was.

She flicks the light on to her room, tossing her jacket on her desk, taking a deep sigh as she stares at her empty bed. Sleeping alone was yet just another thing that she hated doing now, no fighting with Eddie over the blankets, pushing his face the opposite way because of his incessant snoring, or his warm cuddles in the middle of the night.

With another sigh, she turns the lights off, shedding out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor while she grabs a shirt from her closet and slipping it on, climbing into her bed.

As soon as her bare legs touch the cool sheets, she feels the tears come back.

“Fuck, stop it.” She whispers to herself. She sniffles as she reaches over, turning her radio on to listen to some music to help her go to sleep.

Of course all that was playing on her favorite station were commercials, but she just drowned them out while she hugged the pillow that was pressed against her torso, tight. She stared into the darkness of her room, only a little bit of moonlight coming in from the window across from her bed illuminated her room enough for her to makeout shadows of things.

Out of nowhere, the radio goes to static, making her jump slightly.

“Ugh, piece of shit.” She curses under her breath, sitting up to reach for the radio to turn it off.

Before she has the chance, the radio jumps into a song, one that had emotional ties to her and Eddie of course.

As cheesy as it was, her first time with Eddie was to “Home Sweet Home” by Motley Crue. It was truly one of those heat of the moment type moments for them, neither of them planning on anything happening when the night first started.

She couldn’t help but smile listening to the song, all of the memories of that night flooding back to her, and all of the nights afterward that they heard that song come on. One of them catching the other looking at the other with that hunger in their eyes before practically pouncing on the other.

Before the guitar solo, the static happens again, another song filling the room once the static stops.

She furrows her brows slightly, getting up from her bed to go turn her light on to see what was messing with her radio. As she gets up the sound happens again before settling on another station.

“What the fuck?” She gasps, turning the light on quickly.

Of course her first thought was a ghost, she had seen Poltergeist, she didn’t sleep for almost a week, but she had seen it.

“Unchained Melody” was playing in her room now, yet another song that had special meaning to her and Eddie.

Even though the song was old, it was one of her favorites, growing up listening to the song because of her parents.

It became another favorite of hers after Eddie, a little too high that night, grabbed her one night and slowed danced with her in the middle of her bedroom. It was a memory that would be engraved in her mind for the rest of her life.

Sure it was cheesy, but under his “tough metal head” persona he was a giant cheeseball.

The fucking universe had to be laughing at her playing this type of joke on her.

She walks up to the radio and goes to unplug it, but yet again, the channel changes. This time, the static doesn’t let up but a very faint voice echoes through her room.

Her body is frozen in her chair as she stares at her radio with fear in her eyes.

Even seeing all of the horror that was in the upside down wasn’t nearly as scary as what was happening in her bedroom.

“Can you hear me?” The voice calls out clearly. “Please tell me this worked.”

“What’s going on?” She mouths quietly.

“Sweetheart, please listen to me. I know this is crazy. Shit, please tell me you can hear me.”

There was no way that the voice she was hearing was Eddie’s. He was gone, she saw his lifeless body laying there as Steve dragged her away from him begging and screaming for him.

She was dreaming.

“Please say something, baby. Let me know you can hear me, please. Please.” The desperation in his voice was clear.

“Eddie?” She whispers softly at the radio, waiting for a response back as her eyes fill with tears. “Are you really there?” Her voice cracks.

“Holy shit, you can hear me. This worked!” He laughs from the other side of the speaker. “It’s me, baby.”

She sobs into her hands hearing his laugh, her heart beating out of her chest. “How? How are you talking to me? Where are you? You died, I-I-I saw you?”

“I have a lot of explaining to do and I know you’re going to be upset with me. Just please don’t turn the radio off, okay? Promise me?”

“I promise. Tell me everything, Eddie please.”

[jaidens]

Only Bought This Dress (So You Could Take It Off)

pairing [s] : miguel o’hara x reader

warnings [s] : smuttyyy | miguel is big af | spanking, jealousy smut!! mamas favorite treat. | ripping of clothes | miguel is a jealous daddy teehee | name-calling | oml this mann

a/n : guys i really don't know.. except i want him..so

Whenever Miguel invited you to the Spider-Ball, you had no idea what to wear to be completely and totally honest. Your designer was confused whenever you showed her a picture of Miguel's suit and told her to work her magic. And your designer did such.

The colors of blue and red were prominent and it had a collection of dark-orangey red to compliment his webs. It was completely perfect and what you were thinking of without even explaining it. It was a soft silk fabric with lace covered around with strings of pearls.

You had found a matching lingerie set that would have surely made Miguel lose his mind. When he picked you up in front of your apartment you saw how when you walked down the steps in your long, stiletto red bottom heels and that dress he was anxiously moving in his seat and holding only small talk with you.

The limo stopped at a humongous, absolutely gorgeous building the event was being held at. Spider-Men and Women from all over were dressed to the Tens. The driver opened your door and held his hand out for you to grab. You thanked him graciously as you tangled your arm with Miguel's as he straightened out his suit and he looked down at you. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight. I love this dress.” His hand touches your hip, rubbing across the delicate fabric. You smile up at him, tracing across his features and the moonlight that colors his face with beautiful carvings.

He helps you up the stairs, letting you use him as a guide to getting up with such tall heels and concrete steps aren't the best mix. His hand stays on your lower back, holding you closer to him when more and more people start to show up. When you walk into the beautiful ballroom, the white marble floors are covered with people and you look up at the expressive paintings that reside on the ceiling with admiration.

“Look at that ceiling. My goodness, it's absolutely gorgeous." Miguel looks up at it, and you get a sight of his neck, as it stretches “It’s pretty amazing." Miguel leaves to speak with another caterer of the party and you go talk to sweet Mary-Jane. Her bright red hair strikes you as she turns around quickly and drops her mouth open.

“Aren’t you just gorgeous? Oh my wow... I love this dress!” Mary-Jane compliments you while running her hand down your arm. “Look at you! I'm obsessed with those earrings." You and MJ hold small talk before Peter walks up behind her and pulls her away to the drink and food tables.

You find a conversation with Peter. You ask him about why he decided to come to the event. “It’s for charity, love. I'll always go to these types of functions if it's about charity.” You turn your head and see Miguel staring at you and Peter, and you're in for the game. You put your hand on his shoulder and you start laughing when he makes a joke about robbing banks.

But as the night reached its climax, a shadow was cast over the euphoria. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced toward the entrance, meeting the gaze of a familiar face. There he stood, his eyes narrowed with a simmering mix of anger and hurt. It was him—the man I had left behind, Miguel consumed by jealousy.

You continue such actions, just being more calm and touchy. You really only saw Peter as a brother and nothing more. Even after stating that multiple times, Miguel still got worried about him. The live concert band showed up and you got giddy and grabbed Peter's hand and asked him to dance. You were casually dancing with Peter until the switch partners part of the song began and someone grabbed your hand and pushed you close.

“Such a slut aren't you? We're going home after this dance.” Miguel is angry and you can tell. His words are cut off and you see his eyes slowly darken with lust and jealousy. You stare down and rest your head on his chest. “Acting all innocent now too.” You really weren't trying to act innocent. You were worried about beginning to do it because you knew how Miguel would act.

As we made our way through the crowd, I cast one last glance over my shoulder, yearning for the stranger who had stirred something within me. But all I found were empty eyes, longing for freedom that now seemed like a distant dream.

The sleek, midnight-black car cut through the city streets like a predator on the prowl. Inside, the air crackled with a mix of desire and jealousy, swirling around Miguel and me, creating an intoxicating tension. The dimly lit cabin was suffused with a primal energy that mirrored the storm brewing between us.

Miguel's hands gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that betrayed the seething jealousy consuming him. His jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but I could feel his eyes flickering with a fiery mix of possessiveness and resentment.

Earlier that evening, we had attended a glamorous social event, where attention naturally gravitated toward me. Miguel had watched as I conversed and laughed with other men, his strong facade cracking with each flirtatious exchange. The allure of his jealousy fueled my desire, and now we found ourselves alone, confined within the intimate space of his car.

The engine's growl mirrored the tension pulsating between us, as Miguel's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. The silence was heavy, pregnant with unspoken words and simmering emotions, as we hurtled through the city streets with dangerous haste.

Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I ventured, my voice a gentle tremor, "Miguel, what's wrong?"

His gaze pierced through me, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "You know damn well what's wrong," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of accusation.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the air grow thick with his possessive aura. Miguel's simmering jealousy took on a life of its own, threatening to consume us both. I could sense the hunger in his touch, the burning desire to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

With a sudden swerve, the car veered into an empty parking lot, its tires screeching against the pavement. We came to an abrupt stop, the stillness amplifying the intensity of our emotions. Miguel turned to me, his dark eyes staring into mine, his breath shallow and uneven.

"What were you doing back there?" he demanded, his voice low and charged with a mix of anger and longing. "Flirting with Peter, teasing him with your charm."

A flicker of guilt danced across my features, mingling with the thrill of his possessive rage. "Miguel, it was harmless. Just a bit of fun."

His hand shot out, capturing my chin in a firm grip, his touch simultaneously tender and controlling. "Fun? Do you think I find pleasure in watching Peter vie for your attention?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper, laced with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of desire coursing through me. "You're mine, and I won't stand for it."

In that charged moment, the confines of the car became an arena for our desires and frustrations. The boundaries blurred as Miguel's lips descended upon mine, claiming me with a ferocity that matched the fiery jealousy burning within him. The car's interior became a sanctuary for our entangled bodies, as we surrendered to the intoxicating dance of lust and possessiveness, each touch igniting a passionate blaze that threatened to consume us whole.

In the passenger seat, you, a tantalizing and spirited woman, brace yourself for what you sense is about to unfold. The air is thick with tension as you exit the car, your heart pounding in anticipation.

Miguel storms around the vehicle, his movements exuding authority, and yanks open your door. Without a word, he seizes your wrist and pulls you out, his grip firm yet electric with desire. He gracefully opens the door to the large house and he starts angrily dragging you to the bedroom that you shared together. He flips the lights off and presses a button. The LED lights that sat above turned a dark red. His tan skin is even more beautiful and tantalizing than it was in the sunlight. 

He pulls his tie loose and he throws you onto the cleanly made bed. You bend your elbows to catch your fall. You put your knees up and close your thighs together, giving a sort of pleasure that was becoming single-handedly harder to hold back from Miguel.  He begins to kiss your neck, sending a tingling sensation through your body. His hands move to your waist, feeling the curves of your body before he presses his body against yours. You close your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure that Miguel brings.

His lips travel down to your collarbone, creating a trail of butterflies that spread throughout your body. You can feel the heat of his body against yours and your heart racing. His hands move to your back as he leans in closer, sending sparks through your soul. He looks into your eyes and your lips meet in an electric kiss. You're lost in the moment, feeling alive and full of passion. You never want it to end. You're stuck in this dream before you remember what got you into this mess. He pulls away angrily and rips the perfectly made dress off your body. You stand there, feeling exposed and embarrassed. "Flirting with Peter wasn't a good idea, was it? Or would you rather him fuck you? Your heart raced as he said those words. You felt ashamed. You knew you had to face the consequences of your actions and you were not looking forward to it. He pulls off his tailored suit and you have a full look at his strong chest.

Miguel crawls back onto the bed and he bites your neck. You moan out and grab at his back, your manicured nails scratching red marks on them. "Please.. touch me." You're completely embarrassed that you're begging for him after getting yourself stuck in this situation. He smiles, a wicked glint in his eye as he presses himself against you. His hands roam your body as he kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you as you surrender to his touch. His hand runs down your body, tracing over the delicate lace that you were adorned in.  Miguel's hand travels just under the waistband of the panties, teasing you further. "You like the taste of your own medicine? I bet you do." 

His fingers skim the lace and travel further until they reach your core. He teases and tantalizes you until you can't take it anymore and you cry out in pleasure. Miguel smiles, satisfied with the power he holds over you. "Such a slutty baby. Bet you'll take anything anyone gives you?" You blush and shake your head, unable to find the words to respond. He grins and presses his lips against yours, letting you know he doesn't need your answer. Instead, he just wants to show you how much pleasure he can give you. You feel his fingers rub your clit in figure-eights. You're rubbing your hips against his hands. You're so close before you feel it; he rips his hands away and lays his fingers against your lips.

You accept his fingers into your mouth and suck them off your pleasure. You moan as he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth, savoring the taste of your arousal. His hands return to your clit and you're soon overcome with pleasure, arching your back as you reach your peak. He flips you over and pushes your head down into the soft pillows and pulls your ass up. You're staring at the mirror at his gorgeous body as he pulls his pants down and throws them on the floor.

You can feel his hand rub against your ass before you feel it, a harsh smack against it. You cry out and hear him speak, "I want you to count how many times I spank your ass. If you do it correctly, I'll treat you." You take a deep breath and start counting, determined to do as he asked. As the spanks continue, you feel a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. You grit your teeth and keep counting until he stops. You feel one last rub in a circle over the burning marks. "You did well, baby." He flips you back around and your head it sat between your pillows and he grabs a pillow next to your head.

You twist your body around to be on your back. You're staring into his dark, beautiful eyes. Miguel takes the pillow and sticks it under your ass. You're on display for him. Your legs spread wide to give him room to relax. His strong arms wrap around your thighs and you feel his breath on your core. He looks up at you with a smirk and then explores you with his mouth. His tongue and lips dance around your sensitive areas.

His lips move faster and faster, sending shockwaves through your body that cause you to arch your back and thrust your hips into his face. His tongue is like a warm, gentle wave, caressing you and making you feel more alive than you ever have before. You can feel your muscles tense up as you get closer and closer to the edge, and when you finally reach it you let out a loud, intense moan that echoes through the room.

"So good for me." He groans out as he comes back up from your core and your slick is on his chin and lips, shimmering in the light. Miguel sits up and you notice how tense his body is. He's hard, his tip is dark purple had gotten so worked up from eating you out and hearing your pleasurable moans that echoed throughout the room. You sit up and your hand travels down his abs and to his cock, stroking it. He leans back against the bed; his hands holding him up from falling, and you press your lips against his, tasting yourself and him. You can feel his heartbeat racing as you kiss him passionately. Your hand strokes him as he humps into your hand. "For how dominant you had been earlier... this is different."

Miguel looks up at you. His eyes have tears as you continue to stroke him. You can sense the vulnerability in Miguel as he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears. You can feel the emotion radiating off of him as his heart beats rapidly in response to your touch. He is letting you in, allowing you to see a side to him that he usually keeps hidden. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. You whisper comforting words to him, assuring him that it's ok to let it all out. He relaxes in your embrace, feeling safe and secure in your presence. After a couple of quick thrusts, his abs tighten and he cums in your hand. 

He holds you and you lay in his arms. “You did so good baby. Let’s go get you in the bath.” Miguel picks you up under your aching thighs and carries you to the bathroom that was in your room. He sets you down on the chair that sat in the bathroom. He turns on the bathtub and the water begins heating up. Miguel picks you up once more and sets you into the bath. Your body stretches out and you relax. You share I Love You’s and you lay down for the night.

[luveline]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

can I request remus with shy!reader? maybe he is calming her down after an anxiety attack, and she is embarrassed to have broke down in front of him but he reassures her?

luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! fem!reader

Remus is tall enough to have to bend at the waist to meet your eyes, but he hasn't complained yet. Endless minutes watching your face as you struggled for breath, hands around your wrists to stop you from touching your face and panicking worse. 

He looks bored, almost, eyes holding yours steadily and his lips downturned. It weakens the last of your resolve, panic turning to tears that collect in the corners of your eyes. "Sorry," you say. 

"For what?" he asks quietly, his thumb working into your pulse. 

Wasting your time, you think. Being so embarrassing. Crying over silly things. 

Remus relaxes his grip on your wrists. Firm but never cruel, he'd held you the moment you lost your breath, his mantra practised. "It's okay," he'd said, taking showful breaths for you to follow, "you're not dying, dove." 

It feels like you are when the panic hits. "I don't know why it feels so real," you say, nearly pleading with him to understand how sorry you are. 

His impassiveness melds softer. "Nobody knows why it feels that way. It doesn't matter, you don't have to know why. How do you feel now?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer, pulling you in to kiss along your hairline. "It's okay."

"You're not mad?" 

"Why would I be mad?" he asks. 

"You looked mad," you say with a wince. Remus breathes out against your forehead, his hand domineering where it roves your back. 

"I just look like that." He dips to kiss just above your ear, murmuring, "Not mad at you. Just worried about you. I don't like feeling your heart going that fast, almost as much as I don't like seeing this." He wipes your tear-wetted cheeks. 

You wrap yourself around him to cling. Remus hugs you, all long arms and soft hair tickling your cheek as he curls into you protectively, like he's hiding you from the whole world. You desperately want to be hidden.

"We'll go get something to eat," he says, making no move to actually leave. 

"I don't think I can eat, I feel sick." 

"Okay… You know it doesn't matter, right? Of course it matters, I don't like seeing you scared, but it doesn't bother me that way. I would never be angry with you for something like this, dove, I promise. I only want you to feel better." 

His niceness makes you cry worse than before, too tired for full sobs but sniffling and shaking nonetheless. Remus shushes you gently, one of his hands moving up between your shoulders to hold the nape of your neck. The solidness of his arms keeps you steady, and the gentle press of his lips at the highest point of your cheek soothes the ache. You don't feel as hopelessly useless when Remus is there to rub your back. 

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

horse girl charlie morningstar, her partner in a cool hat and eye patch vaggie, and the Hazbin Horse Rehabilitation Ranch- where shit people are introduced to horses no one else wants and hopefully no one get trampled to death (niffty this means YOU)

other key features include

vaggie riding a small working horse and ppl keep calling it a pony and she keeps telling them It's Not A Fucking Pony

charlie and her beloved mule, who never listens to her

angel dust wanting to learn dressage bc it looks like "fancy sexy riding" and also he was banned from mentioning the words "bare back" or "bucking bronco"

husk constantly found drunk and asleep in his horse's stall while said horse nuzzles him

niffty obsessing over grooming all the horses down to their individual hairs, yes even the bad tempered horses, yes she likes it when they shmoosh her against a wall or step on her foot

alastor looking calm collected and in control on his horse as he wanders off from the group and never participates in activities bc his horse won't listen to him either and he's too proud to admit it

sir pentious keeps trying to make his horse look and preform the best using his own new designs for tack and gear and it always backfires but he's the go-to one if your saddle needs adjusting or fixing

his egg boiz are a flock of chickens

his horse keeps eating the chickens' eggs and he keeps crying over it, even when charlie tells him they wouldn't have hatched into chicks anyway

lucifer lives in a shack somewhere around here with his collection of customized my little pony brushible toys

the locals in the nearest town still talk about lilith's incredible horse whispering skills before she up and vanished

charlie gushes about these stories a LOT but laughs nervously if asked about her own way with horses

she tries.

her way of making sudden loud squees and eeeks and excited yells and wild energetic movements doesn't fit well with most of the horses

she also slips up and gets flaming mad at anything that threatens her family's ranch or anyone who mistreats a horse

angry charlie is Scary Charlie

her mule doesn't care tho it knows she's a pushover treat giver

when vaggie first figured out what was happening she spent weeks with her own horse slowly getting it used to all sorts of weird charlie-related things, including stealing charlie's jacket a few times to flap it wildly while chasing her horse around the paddock singing loud show tunes

vaggie's horse is the only one that'll let charlie ride it without being a nervous wreck

charlie maybe cried a little when she went for that first ride

vaggie has a shot gun

she spends a lot of time checking on things riding far out and alone and keeps the gun with her just in case

she's never actually threatened any of their human boarders with the shot gun but she does have an unnerving tendency to check and clean it whenever she's pissed and trying to keep some shred of her patience intact

every week there's at least one night set aside for an evening dance after dinner and yes chaggie was doing it long before any other ppl showed up

valentino showed up once and charlie chased him off the premises with vaggie's shotgun

the ranch used to have a television

now it has a radio tower

no one except alastor is happy about it but his radio commercial revenue is paying for most of this so they all keep mostly quiet about their grumbling and record voice lines for ads when he looms over them with a script

vaggie swears the time she shot out the radio tower's windows while arguing with alastor over her and charlie's voice lines was a complete accident

razzle and dazzle are ranch dogs who keep track of the horses when they're out grazing and both are COMPLETELY in tune with charlie, been with her since childhood, the three can basically read each others' minds and watching them all work together is like watching magic

(vaggie also knows how to work with them but has to use more obvious signals instead of just tiny changes in body language)

vaggie keeps trying to gently remind charlie there are events for dog handling she could enter in

but the ranch was lilith's passion and rehabilitating rejected horses her dream and charlie is not not giving up on that OR on the rejected people her mom always was so proud of and charlie is NOT letting herself think for one moment that her mom isn't coming home

speaking of coming home

chaggie met when charlie was out riding after a storm looking for a lost horse and found it staring curiously down at a half dead lady lying in a ditch with a freshly gouged out eye and burns on her back

the half dead lady claimed she shot out her own eye by accident and got hit by lightning

or maybe fell asleep on a campfire uhh

charlie was way too busy figuring out normal social interactions again and also how to patch up a pretty lady without being a complete fool about it to question vaggie's super realistic tale

vaggie was planning on staying just long enough to get on her feet again- especially after she started catching feelings watching charlie being sweet with all the stubborn horsies- and seeing how much charlie was struggling with the ranch without having someone else to look after

she was even gonna steal a horse on the way out

and got caught by charlie in the act

charlie just smiled sadly, told vaggie she was glad she wasn't heading off alone, told vaggie's horse to take care of her, and then went back to the daily chores

vaggie caught up with her an hour later

she'd had to properly put her horse away and get breakfast started first, for after they've finished up the morning stuff

they've been running the ranch together ever since

keekee the cat is the actual boss on the ranch and got her name from how doors always open for her (bc she bothers whoever's around until they drop what they're doing to obey her)

cherri bomb stops by once just to laugh at angel dust and ignore pentious but ends up being the only one who figures out why the new horse is spooking at everything- it's got hearing loss, and she's got it too from doing endless unlicensed fireworks shows, and she's totally just sticking around until the horse gets used to things here. totally

[catandrabbitt]

Late

you arrive back at the beach later than expected after a game. chishiya can’t help but to assume that you’re dead

yandere! chishiya shuntaro x reader

warnings: mentions of supposed death, manipulation, aggressive behaviors from chishiya, references to sexual activities but nothing happens, mentions of drugging but once again nothing happens

The blonde feels his patience running thin and his heart getting heavier. Every minute that passes by without you showing up only worsens his anxiety.

He has no right to be irritated. He knows that, but he can't help himself.

You had left to play a game earlier tonight, and still hadn't returned. The players that had come back to The Beach have already filtered through, and the only ones left in the hallway were Chishiya and Kuina.

"Chishiya, don't you think we should head back? It's getting pretty late—" Kuina was cut off by the bitter male.

"I didn't ask you to stick around. Go back if you want but I'm staying here." He snapped back, turning away from her.

Kuina knew that the blonde had a soft spot for you, loved you even. But she'd never seen him react this way before. Even Niragi had never managed to get him this worked up. He was practically bristling.

"She's intelligent and strong. I'm sure her car is just running late." Kuina said quietly, taking a hesitant step towards Chishiya.

The male didn't respond, choosing to ignore Kuina.

Kuina didn't know what to say. Chishiya usually kept his infatuation for you under wraps, but the way he was acting was worrying her. She feared what would happen if you did return tonight. Chishiya had already used his executive powers to move your bedroom next to his so that he could keep an eye on you.

"How about I stay and wait for her to come back? You need to get some rest." Against her better judgement, she stepped forward and placed a hand on Chishiya's shoulder.

Kuina flinched when the blonde turned around and shoved her hand off of him, an annoyed sneer on his face. "Don't touch me." He practically hissed at her. "Go back to your room, Kuina, and leave me alone for the night."

She swallowed thickly before lowering her hand, turning around, and heading back into the hotel.

A few more minutes passed, and Chishiya began to feel a soreness in the back of his throat. He was beginning to get choked up.

He shouldn’t be reacting this way. You weren’t a couple, but Chishiya was so infatuated by you. He couldn’t bare the thought of anything happening to you.

The sound of an engine coming closer pulled him from his thoughts. Hope blossomed in his chest as he saw headlights coming up the hotel driveway.

His eyes were glued to the car as the players pooled out, grumbling about a 'late game'. The last player to exit the car was you.

Relief flooded his system, but so did anger. How dare you scare him like that?

"Y/N." His cold voice called out, catching the attention of the tired girl. He noticed you had a cut on your cheek, and a deeper cut on your arm.

"Hey, Chishiya." You breathed out, clearly exhausted. "Late game tonight—"

"I don't care." He cut you off, his feline eyes narrowing into slits. Your eyes widened at his tone and blunt statement, and immediately noticed that he was angry.

"What's wrong—?"

"My room. Now." He said firmly, before turning around and beginning to walk inside. You were confused, but followed nonetheless. You were neighbors, after all, so there wasn’t anywhere you really could go.

You trailed silently after the fuming blonde, wondering what could have possibly set him off like this. He was usually so calm and collected that it was concerning to see him act this way.

"Chishiya, what happened? Did—" He cut you off once more by practically ripping his door off the hinges.

"Get inside." He ordered through grit teeth. You stared at him for a few moments, trying to get a read on him, before deciding it was pointless and hesitantly trailing inside. You heard the door slam behind him as he entered after you.

The two of you stood in silence. Chishiya had his hands in his pockets and you had your arms crossed.

"What the hell was that, Y/N?" Chishiya finally said, his eyebrow twitching.

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about." Chishiya said lowly, stepping closer to you. "Coming back from your game late and nearly giving me a heart attack? I stood outside for almost an hour, waiting for you to return."

You scoffed, feeling a twinge of annoyance that he had the audacity to be mad at you. "I can't help that my game ran longer than it was supposed to. I didn't strike you as the type to care, anyway. Since when have you concerned yourself with other people's deaths?"

Chishiya was practically chest-to-chest with you at this point. While he was a generally shorter male, he still had a height advantage over you by a few inches.

He didn't answer you for a few moments, only glaring down at you.

"You reserve no right to be mad at me." You said, quiet enough for him to hear. "You'd sacrifice me if you had the chance just to save your own ass."

You shoved him away from you, going to leave his room. However, Chishiya caught your wrist and pulled you back towards him, wrapping his arms around you.

"You're wrong." Chishiya muttered, pushing your back into the wall where he now had you pressed against. "We're meant to be, Y/N. I can't help that I care about you."

"'Meant to be'?" She almost scoffed. "Ever since I've known you I got the vibe that you hated me, and now you're spouting this bullshit? Get a grip, Chishiya. You're manipulating me." You tried pushing him away again, but he only pressed you back into the wall.

"I'm not. You're mine, and I'll be damned if I let the games or anyone else take you from me." His breath was hot against your face. You had never seen Chishiya this riled up.

You didn't know what to say. You avoided his fiery gaze for a couple moments, before he sighed and pressed his forehead against yours.

"Allow me to bandage you up." He uttered after a few seconds, pulling away from you and tugging you towards his bed. "Sit."

You obeyed his simple command as Chishiya entered his bathroom. You could hear some cabinets opening and closing, items being shuffled around before he returned with a first aid kit and some napkins.

"Since when do you know how to tend wounds?" You raised an eyebrow, an attempt at trying to lighten the mood.

He glanced up at you, an unimpressed look on his face. "I'm a doctor." His statement was cold and blunt. You practically felt relief that he was finally back to acting how he usually does, rather than the side of Chishiya you saw moments prior.

The next few minutes passed in silence. Chishiya bandaged your arm and face up and cleaned up any blood, and you just watched him.

Your eyes trailed his figure as he got up to put the first aid kit back into the restroom. When he came back, you stood up. "Thanks for the help, doc. I think I'm gonna head back to my room for the night."

When you made a move for the door, Chishiya intercepted you, standing in front of the doorway.

You sighed, fed up with him tonight. "What has gotten into you tonight, Chishiya? Sure, my car was late, but—"

"Stay with me tonight." He stated, not breaking eye contact with you. "Don't worry, we won't do anything if you're worried about that. My bed has more than enough space for us both."

You would stay with him regardless. He could only hope that you’d stay willingly, so that he wouldn't have to use force on you.

"Please." He added after a few moments, for good measure.

There's a small, sadistic glint in his eyes that makes you uneasy. His behavior tonight was making you on edge.

Finally, you sighed once more and crossed your arms. "Will it make you feel better?"

"Definitely." There was no hesitation with his response.

"Alright then. I'll stay for tonight." You accepted, ignoring the voice in the back of your head saying that this was not a good idea at all.

"Glad to hear it. I wouldn't have wanted things to get nasty." Chishiya gave you his signature sly smirk. "Go ahead and get comfortable."

You made your way over to his bed silently as he heads off towards the bathroom. You were pushing your nerves down, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay.

While he was gone, you contemplated rushing out the door. However, you knew that if Chishiya really wanted you to stay tonight, he’d either drag you back or just stay in your room.

You had barely made it under the blankets by the time Chishiya emerged from the restroom, a faint minty air surrounding him now. He got on the bed from the other side, slipping under his blankets.

You let out a squeak as Chishiya's surprisingly strong arms wrapped around you, effectively pressing you against him as he snuggled farther under the blankets. One of his hands gently rubs against your back, the other brushing against your hair.

"Chishiya..?" You whispered, a little nervous at the sudden contact.

"What? Not a big cuddler?" You could hear the teasing tone in his voice.

"It's not that. I just didn't expect you to be a big cuddler." You replied, cautiously wrapping your arms around his waist. If you could see his face, you would have seen the way his face reddened at your acceptance.

He actually smelled really nice, like fresh rain and peppermint. This might not be so bad.

Your head snuggled deeper into his embrace, much to his enjoyment. Very soon, you began to fall asleep in his arms, surprisingly relaxed.

A few moments of comfortable silence passed. Chishiya felt the way your breathing slowed, how your grip loosened ever so slightly on his waist.

He hummed, watching your chest rise up and down rhythmically. "Y/N?" You don’t respond, confirming that you were already fast asleep.

A cruel smile that he had been suppressing all night makes it's way across his face.

Finally, he got the chance to fall asleep with you. And even better, cuddle. He hadn't meant to scare you when he got mad, but he couldn't help it. If he lost you, he didn't know what he'd do, or if he could even handle it.

It's okay. It all worked out well in the end.

Chishiya smirks at your still-tight cling to his waist.

Maybe too well.

He's glad that you agreed without too much of a struggle. He sighed and pressed a ghost of a kiss to your cheek.

Of course, on any other night he could have dragged you from your room and forced you to fall asleep with him, but imagining you thrashing around and trying to get away from him left a bad taste in his mouth.

If you had walked out of his room tonight, he would have had to drug you or hurt you to get what he wanted.

He prefers this scenario much, much more, with you as a conscious and willing participant.

Maybe you two would have to do this again.

[kamisama1kiss]

I got another one for you, how would the ninja react if an enemy insulted their S/O and like calling their partner weak and stuff? To make it more interesting I added a list of villains, you don’t have to do this one with the list but you can if you want to

Lloyd it could be Harumi, for Kai, aspheera, Cole- Vangelis, Jay-nadakah, Zane-Nindroids? (You can change this one) and for Nya, kalmaar

I added the list to like make it their worse enemy so they can get more angry and such, idk if you wanna do this or not but I wanna hear your thoughts on this

Hehe, I love requests, so never stop coming with them 😚🙏

~~~

How would they react to their partner being insulted by the enemy in the middle of a battle? {Ninjago Addition}

~ Lloyd Garmadon ~ {Harumi}

"Your so-called lover happens to be weak and... not much of help, can't we say?" Harumi says with a snarky grin, Lloyd stood grinding his teeth.

He tried to stay calm for the longest as he could, taking a deep breath as the facade cracked, and he lounged at her. Showing the little mercy he had left in him as the ninja he so proudly called himself.

Ways of simply saying it, he could never allow his anyone to talk down the once he cares about, no matter who said it.

~ Kai Smith ~ {Aspheera}

"You've both sssshowned sssuch little ssstrength, even the one without powersss won't reach anywhere in life" She laughed at Kai, finding the both of them weak. His eyes paired red with rage, raging into an aggressive battle of almost death and living.

When someone Nya any words, he gets overprotective but knows she can handle herself, but since his partner does not have this power, his overprotectiveness reaching a new limit none of them knew he had.

~ Jay Walker ~ {Nadakhan}

"They can not do anything right." He told Jay when his partner had been knocked out from Nadakhan himself. His hands became more electrifyingly warm before his attacks became unhumanly fast, as lightning some might say.

Never in his Jay's life would he let someone just simply get away with being negative, his hair even standing up at some point as if he was struck by lightning. It showed how he felt upset without saying so.

~ Cole Brookstone ~ {Vangelis}

We know all know how Cole got his like extra cool power upgrade in his season, yeah? Well, this extra salt in the wound by Vangelis's words made him only crack faster to uphold his potential. "Pathetic being of a human, absolutely astonishing how weak." was screeched by the butcher version of a King to the ninjas lover.

Having already lost someone important to whom he had no control over, feeling so absolutely lost and vulnerable. Clenched hands with a scowl resting on his features, this would definitely not slide by his side.

~ Zane Julian ~ {Nindroids}

"Haha! That was just sad to watch. Even a toddler is more capable of a simple task." The nindroids hollared to themselves. Never once had he felt truly upset for the first time when it had been with you.

Not because of you but rather what someone had told you, yet he lost his cabels and wiring over his own limit. With the collected nindroid, he is. Freezing every last one of them.

~ Nya Smith ~ {Kalamaar}

Gosh, she adored you as a lover she is. Rather, not surprised when seeing her rather aggressive movements with the sushi look alike strutting around on his tentacles as he talked as if his words meant anything. "Such awful attempts of helping go back to helping the other fishes. At least then you could maybe do something right." He spat.

She stood fiurius, uneasy breathing as she stood up against him. Similarly to Kai, she lost her senses and went to attacking him until someone held her back.

[britany1997]

Fate Yields For No One

Chapter Five

Well y’all, it’s been a month so you know what that means:):) Hope you enjoy the next installment in the series! I can’t wait to show y’all how this fic is going to develop even further!

Poly Lost Boys x Max’s Daughter Reader

Comment to be added to my Taglist for this fic or for all my Lost Boys fics!

FYFNO Masterlist

California, 1986

The boys were too stunned to speak.

Until Paul abruptly broke the silence with a resounding “what the fuck.”

You pulled away from Maria’s embrace when a familiar voice shattered your moment. You sighed, pushing your frustration down and turning to glare at the blond menace.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

The same feeling you’d had when you’d met Paul a couple weeks ago surged through you once more as you met eyes with each of his friends.

The bleach blond one looked disgusted, almost angry, with his eyes narrowed and his mouth fixed into a sneer.

The curly haired one bit his gloved thumb, his eyes skittered back and forth between you, Maria, and his friends. He bounced, shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other, practically vibrating.

The dark haired one was unreadable. Your eyes narrowed as you took in his expression. You searched for nervousness, anger, sadness, anything. But his face revealed nothing, it was almost intriguing.

Paul looked broken. His mouth slightly agape and his eyes resembling those of a kicked puppy. Despite his pitiful appearance, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any remorse.

You reminded yourself that you’d always been entitled to make your own damn choices.

The little utterances of “mine” that broke through their lips meant nothing to you. You had never belonged to anyone but yourself. And you had always been your own to give.

You crossed your arms and scowled, daring them to intrude any further on your time with Maria.

You felt a hand slide along your cheek, turning your head slowly until you were faced with your lover.

“Hey,” she soothed, staring into your eyes with a slightly nervous gaze. You softened immediately.

“It’s getting late, we’re already closed, and it seems like you need to talk this out,” she said gently.

You took her soft hands in your own. “No, please don’t go,” you pleaded, “it’s them who should leave.”

When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes.

“We’re working the night shift together tomorrow,” she reminded you, “figure this out ok? I’ll be here.”

She leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I’ll always be here for you ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered back as you stroked her face softly, causing a blush to rise on her cheeks.

Paul cleared his throat loudly and you shot him a glare that would have peeled paint.

Maria’s hand over yours calmed you down just a bit. She reassured you with a smile before she slipped out the front door.

With Maria gone, you were free to feel the depth of your frustration at the four men before you.

“What do you want?” You grit out through clenched teeth.

Paul threw up his hands, “what is wrong with you?”

Your face flushed red, half with embarrassment, and half with anger. You clenched your fists. Nothing was wrong with you. Something was clearly wrong with him because he couldn’t. take. a hint.

The dark haired vampire shot Paul a look that seemed to reign him in. Then he stepped forward to put himself between you and the three other men.

“I’m Dwayne,” he introduced himself gently, his face still devoid of any emotion.

“Ok,” you spat, “congratulations.”

His mask broke a bit, looking slightly taken aback by your hostility, but he quickly composed himself.

“We just want to talk,” he said, his hands up in a sort of surrender, “let us explain some things to you.”

Your eyes narrowed, and without Maria there to diffuse the situation, your arms crossed again.

“Explain things to me?” You felt rage bubbling up inside you, “what could you possibly have to explain to me?”

Dwayne, to his credit, maintained his calm, collected demeanor. The bleach blond however seemed to be seething behind him.

“It’s hard to know where to start…we’re your-”

“I know.” You cut him off.

“You know?”

“I know what you are, and I know what we are,” you flashed him your fangs.

The four boys couldn’t hide their shock. The bleach blond one pushed past Dwayne to stare you down. “You’re not a human,” he mused.

Dwayne placed a hand on his shoulder, “David…” he warned.

David rolled his shoulder to shove off Dwayne’s hand.

“Listen sweetheart,”

You scowled at the pointed nickname.

“You’re ours,” Paul cringed at David’s words.

“The sooner you get it through your thick head,” David tapped your forehead, causing you to bare your teeth, “the better.”

“Oh fuck,” Paul whispered.

You stared David down, your body shaking slightly in anger. “If you ever fucking touch me again I will rip your head from your shoulders and burn your decapitated body you arrogant asshole,” You hissed.

He hissed back, his fangs on full display.

“David please,” the curly hair vampire begged.

“Marko,” David turned to growl, “I won’t tolerate this kind of insubordination.”

You gripped the edge of the video store desk so hard you thought it might break off.

Dwayne yanked David back by his arm. With the way the bleach blond man glared at the him you thought they might come to blows.

“Do you think you’re helping right now?” Dwayne asked.

David rolled his eyes, “she’s disrespecting me, she’s disrespecting us.” he glared at you.

You scowled back, trying to seem unfazed by his egotistical display.

“Is that what she’s doing?” Dwayne asked, “or is she setting boundaries and making choices you don’t like?”

Your hostile face dissolved to shock. You weren’t expecting that kind of support.

“Love can’t be forced,” Dwayne continued, “you know that, I know you know that.”

David stared at Dwayne before sighing deeply.

You tensed when he moved towards you. “This isn’t over,” he hissed.

You scoffed, “yeah that’s what he said,” you hooked your thumb towards Paul, “I’ll tell you what I told him. It sure seems like it is.”

David’s eyes narrowed but he kept his mouth shut.

“C’mon boys,” he gestured for the men to follow him out of the store.

Dwayne didn’t even glance back as he left.

Marko shot you a longing look, but when you looked away, he sighed before following Dwayne out the door.

Paul lingered. He opened his mouth, only to close it, time after time.

“What do you want?” you scowled.

“We could make you happy,” he said in the softest voice you’d ever heard. “I could make you happy.”

You stared at him, his eyes full of hope and desire.

“If you really want me to be happy…”

He moved closer, hanging on every word you said. His fists clenched at his side, desperate to touch you but holding back.

“Then I need you to leave me alone.”

His face fell, any hope in his eyes had shattered and dissolved.

He turned away, dead heart breaking in his chest.

“Ok,” was all he could muster as he too disappeared from the store.

As soon as he’d slipped from sight, you rushed to the front door to flip the sign from open to closed.

Grateful for the solace that an empty store provided, you slunk to the back room to mull over the events of the night.

You slid down the door until you were seated, head in hands. Part of you wondered if it would be so bad to give in. The Dwayne guy seemed respectful and kind enough, and if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t unattracted to him either.

If you were really honest, you weren’t unattracted to any of them. Except that David asshole.

It wasn’t his face that bothered you, but his abismal attitude. He might as well have been Max Jr.

He didn’t own you. No one fucking did.

Then there was Maria.

Her beautiful face flashed through your mind. She was kind, she was brilliant, she was caring, and you could see yourself falling for her one day.

God you’d had your first kiss with Maria tonight and you were thinking about those possessive vamps?

How could you ever consider trading her in for these four strangers with nothing but some kind of empty ‘claim’ on you.

You sighed.

You couldn’t deny that you’d felt the pull. You blamed your stupid, uncontrollable vampire instincts.

But what was lust, passion, and desire when compared with connection, comfort, and love?

Maria was the one you wanted. You chose her, and you’d do what you had to to keep her.

Whatever it took.

FYFNO Taglist❤️:

@sad-ghost-of-garbage @6lostgirl6 @misslavenderlady @anna1306 @hypocriticaltypwriter @crustyboypix @kurt-nightcrawler @bitchyexpertprincess @arenpath @lostboys1987girl @vampirefilmlover @dwaynedelight @dwaynesluscioushair @ria-coolgirl @katerinaval @royaltysuite @mack-attack420 @arbesa-mind @fraudfrog @rynsfandomsfun @vxarak @f4iryfxies @chiefdirector @ghostedghostie @its-freaking-bats @solobagginses @warrior-616 @softchonk @walmart-cereal @bloodywickedvamp @mickkmaiden333 @people-are-strange-87 @smut-religiously777 @welcome-to-the-hole @simplyreading96 @blenna3967 @justaspeachy @mihawksdemoness @mad-is-sad @pookiesnatcher @jezabella8 @drascilla @ilikechocolatemilkh @charlotteellis @mommymilkerfanclub @lazygrungekid @buzzybee-26 @sarcastic-sourwolf @cocopuffs1450 @jamie-poopoo @kristel1990 @the-lonely-abyss @hxrror01

[littlereddream]

Of Whiskey and Venom

A/n: cowboy Jason Todd x Reader, f!reader, there will be multiple parts to this because I can’t help myself.

Owing debts to outlaws means playing dangerous games. You know that, well and true. When Carmine Falcone finds out that you don’t have the money to pay him back, he offers you one final method of payment. Your debt would be forgiven in its entirety, so long as you walk yourself to the notorious Red Hood’s camp and surrender yourself with the claim that you’re part of the Falcone’s.

In Gotham, big of a town as it is, word gets around to people fast. Whether it was through gossip or the newspaper boys hard at work, most things never stayed secret.

Usually, it was annoying. Last year, some nosy neighbor had discovered that you’d managed to get your hands on some quality eggs, courtesy of a friend of yours down South. Within the week, almost half of your neighbors had collected at your door at some point or another to ask for some. Would be a shame not to share, they’d said.

Usually, the knowledge of any of your personal business getting out would set you on edge. It’s never been any good to you, only ever causing trouble.

Today, you find cause to be grateful for the quickly spread word. If not for Gotham’s tendency to whisper in each other’s ears, your neighbor would never have come to knock on your front door that morning, all out of breath with urgency all over her.

“You’ve gotta get out of here,” she’d panted. “Run. Run and don’t come back!”

You’d quickly invited her inside, checking outside left and right before shutting the door.

“Mary, the hell’s gotten into you?”

But all she’d done is deliver a soft smack across your shoulder.

“Take this seriously! Darlin, it’s Falcone.” You still remember the ice that had trailed its way down your spine. “My husband, Rupert, told me that he’d overheard some of his boys talking about it. He’s lookin for you.”

You forced yourself to shake your head, pushing back the instinct to freeze up entirely.

“Mary, it just ain’t possible. Falcone and I, we- all of my business with him has been settled.”

“Yes, well, he doesn’t seem to agree. Now, go on! Pack your things. I’ve taken a horse from the stable for you. She’s a fast girl, just old. Won’t nobody come looking for either of you.”

In the end, you’d had enough sense to listen to her, but there was no packing your bags fast enough to escape Falcone. Midway through packing food for your trip, long after Mary had left, you’d heard a different kind of knock at your door. Demanding. Angry.

That whole interaction felt like ages ago to you now, including the conversation you’d had with the man. He’d explained it to you simply, tone so light you’d hardly believe the weight of the words he cracked into your skin, like a cane to a horse.

Apparently, all that time ago when you’d paid back your debt to the man who’d come to collect it from you, there had been a breach in loyalty within Falcone’s gang. Your debt collector had taken the liberty of deciding his own pay, stealing nearly half of the money you’d paid for himself rather than handing over the full amount.

Despite it being an error within his own system, Falcone refused to hear your bargaining. You’d even gone so far as to promise him that money again, all you’d need was a month.

He’d shut you down quicker than you could finish making the offer.

Instead, Falcone offered you a counter proposal.

It’s that counter proposal that has you currently making the solo hike to the Red Hood camp, handcuffs digging uncomfortably into your wrists set in front of you.

What Falcone offered to you went as such: After one of Falcone’s newer men went out and shot a man from the Red Hoods, Hood demanded to be delivered one of Falcone’s own as a leveling of justice and show of goodwill. A gesture to calm the waters between them, since the last thing anybody in town wanted was for the two most dangerous gangs to have it out for each other.

Your job is to be that token of goodwill, to march your way into that camp and declare yourself as a surrender member of the Falcone’s to fulfill their demands.

Do so, and he’d make the kind decision not to take the life of the neighbors that tried to aid in your attempted escape.

The camp is far into the woods, well outside Gotham itself, causing your dress to catch in every grown out bush and twig. Your feet ache from walking so long in the wrong shoes, while your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you were forced to leave home.

There is no getting out of this, you know that. If you run away now, if Falcone finds out that you didn’t settle this debt for him, there would be no corner of the earth far enough for you to hide. It’s either he kills you, or you take your chances with a gang so successfully underground, not even law enforcement knows the real name of its leader. Doesn’t mean they’re any less brutal, though.

You’re going to die, all because Falcone’s men can’t do their jobs, whether that be collecting debts or not shooting the wrong damn people.

There’s a point where the path you walk narrows out, becomes thin and difficult to follow. At some point, you can hardly tell which direction you’re supposed to head, saved only by the spots of recent horseshoe markings in the dirt.

It feels like any second, you’ll be surrounded by people with rifles pointed right at your head. With each step, your breathing further shallows into something unintentionally quieter. A bush rustles to your right, and you feel like an idiot for flinching back when a rabbit runs right out and past you.

After so long walking, you’re starting to think that Falcone could’ve been wrong about the location of the camp. After all, this part of the woods look completely wild, utterly untouched if not for the occasional broken twig or trail marking.

“Who’s there?” A voice shouts out.

Then there’s a gun being pointed to the side of your head. Well, at least you know that if there’s ever an award for jinxing yourself, you’d win it. Or maybe not, considering you’re very likely to be killed within the next few minutes.

“Carmine Falcone’s debt,” you say simply, proud that you’d managed to keep the waiver out of your voice.

There’s a pause in the air, before you can see the man’s mouth pull into a grimace out of the corner of your eye. “That so?” He mutters. “Right. Well, you’re going the wrong way. Come on.”

The redhead, whoever he is, takes great care not to spook you. His rifle, attached to a belt over his shoulder, is exchanged for a single handgun, one just within reach tucked into a holster. The hold he has on your forearm is surprisingly careful, less there to keep you from running and more to guide you through the confusing twists and turns of the woods.

“Watch your step,” he warns. “Hood is gonna be pissed.”

“Why?” You risk asking.

So long as the debt is settled, it seems to you that Hood would be getting everything he specified in his deal. You’re the one being screwed over here.

“Cause, it looks to me like Falcone sent over somebody he doesn’t mind losing instead of an honorable trade.”

You raise a brow. “Who says I ain’t a high value exchange?”

The redhead snorts. “Are you kiddin? You don’t got a single gun-wielding callus on you. We lost one of our best that day, and Falcone sent us you.”

A pause.

“No offense.”

“None taken,” you grumble, bitter for reasons you don’t even know yourself. Maybe it’s because you’re being completely screwed over here, but who’s to say?

It’s not long before the overgrown woods level out into a large clearing, the man weaving you past hitched horses to reveal a large camp. It’s nothing like what you’d expected, hearing what you have about the Red Hoods. Vile, vicious, and mean.

Come to find out their camp looks like an isolated meadow, sun shining down on their colorful tents. From where you’re standing, you can see a young child playing with an even younger puppy. Just past that, there’s a table of people gathered around two women who look to be playing five finger fillet.

The redhead calls out to an older woman to your left who you hadn’t even noticed, sitting quietly as she polished a hunting knife on her pants. What you’d do to be wearing pants instead of a dress right now.

“Ma Gunn,” he greets. “Got a moment?”

“Depends, Roy. More of your trouble?” She says pointedly, but Roy only laughs.

“Not this time. Just got some business to discuss with Hood. Mind keeping the young lady here some company?”

Ma Gunn waves Roy off with a free hand, sheathing the knife and standing.

“Go.”

And then you’re alone with her. Ma Gunn’s eyes are fixed on the metal binding your hands together.

“In some trouble with the law, dear?” She raises a brow. You’re not quite sure what to say to deny it, but some part of your face must look panicked because she breaks out into a quiet laugh. “Relax. We’re hardly the kind of people to judge you for having lawmen after you, not that we’d have any right to.”

Right. Outlaws.

“Besides, you don’t seem like the gunslinging type.”

“Roy said the same,” you tell her.

She snorts. “Course he did. How’d you end up here anyway? Tell me you’re not thinking of joining in. I’m telling you, it might seem nice at first, but it’s nothin worth putting up with Bizarro’s cooking.”

“No, not joining in. I’ve got a debt to settle between Mr. Falcone and Hood.”

It’s within an instant that the woman’s face changes, much more grim than just a moment ago. She looks at you like you’ve already been damned, no shot at survival left to you.

Roy’s back already, tipping his hat in thanks towards Ma Gunn, whose eyes still haven’t left your cuffed wrists.

“Hood wants to see you. Come on, I’ll take you over.” Roy doesn’t touch you this time, just hovers his hand over his lower back like he can force you to move telepathically. You do.

Together, you’re approaching one of the biggest tents in the camp, far in the back. Entirely red, though what else did you expect?

You stop in front of the fabric curtains.

“I think it’s best if you head in alone. Good luck.”

Right. With a final deep breath, you duck into the tent. It feels like stepping into your own casket.

You find that the inside looks bigger than the outside, complete with a large cot, a table surrounded by chairs, and a small bookshelf. At the table sits a man you can only assume is Hood himself, feet resting on the wood as he leans back in his seat. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, gambler hat set on the edge of the table just by his boots.

He’s surprisingly handsome, sharply contrasting all the stories people tend to spread about him. When he’s not wearing a bandana, he’s said to be grotesquely scarred, some even say to the point of deformity. The man is front of you is very much not that, all sharp features with the only visible scars on his face being one over his lower lip and the other down across his brow.

You step forward into the tent, and the wood beneath your feet creaks. Quick as gunfire, narrowed green eyes level with yours. There’s a hint of disbelief in them, like he can’t quite believe his eyes.

“By Gotham, that fool was telling the truth.” You hear him say, gruff and mumbled.

It takes more effort than you’d ever admit to speak without breaking down right there. You’re practically speaking to your executioner right now.

“Hood, right? Carmine Falcone sent me to-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know why he sent you.” Hood drags a hand down his face. “Well, isn’t this just a mess.”

With a tired sigh, Hood calls you forward with a beck of his fingers. Once you’re at the other end of the table, he motions for you to take a seat. You do, albeit on unstable legs. It’s a miracle your knees don’t just buckle when you move to sit.

“So, tell me. This Carmine’s idea of a joke?”

“No, I-“

“He think it’s funny to send me a girl he picked up from who knows where? Send her to her death just to get off clean?”

“If you’d just-“

“Come on, doll. I wanna know. Why the hell is Falcone sending me you instead of what I asked for?”

Hood’s eyes are cold as steel, but you’ve got the strange feeling that his anger isn’t entirely directed at you. Still, better not to assume.

“I am what you asked for. You weren’t cheated.”

Hood snorts, entirely humorless. “You? Now, forgive me for my doubts, but I’m having a hard time-“

This time, you’re cutting him off. “I am,” you insist.

Hood pauses to look at you. Really look at you. There’s an amusement settling in his posture that you don’t like, one that promises nothing good for you.

“Right. Well, who am I to tell you what you are or aren’t? Far be it from me.”

He’s reaching for his hip, unholstering the revolver strapped there and setting it down on the table. You watch the motion as he does it, staring down the weapon between the two of you like it could shoot you without its handler ever touching it.

“This gun here? This is one of my most prized possessions. If this whole tent were to catch fire right now, everything I hold dear tucked inside, this gun would be the only thing I’d bother savin.”

He’s watching your reactions carefully, so you're just as careful to keep your expression back. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, so better he not find anything at all.

“Now, I personally believe actions speak much louder than words. I won’t sit here and call you a liar for telling me you’re a gunslinging outlaw straight from Falcone’s best, but I will tell you to prove it to me.”

Hood nudges the gun closer to where you’re sitting. “So go on and prove it. Take my own gun and shoot me. Eliminate any threat I pose to you within seconds, selfish and brutal.”

You can do nothing but sit there in stunned silence, hands tightly gripping the fabric over your lap. “Hood, I don’t-“

“I insist.”

Your hands shake when you bring them up with a sheepish grin. “Can’t exactly do that with cuffed hands, mister.”

Hood waves you off. “I’ve done worse things than shoot a man with my hands cuffed. Come on, Miss, prove it to me. Unless you can’t.” He tilts his head at the end.

To kill a man, to take a life. You can’t just do that. As is sensing your inner turmoil, Hood offers you a sarcastic pout.

“Weighing on your conscience, is it? Well, if it helps you any, it wouldn’t be a good man you’re killing. I’ve committed too many crimes to be clean of anything. All you’ve gotta do is put a bullet between the eyes of a man who might just kill you unless you do. Not so much of a choice, is there. I sure know what I’d do, if I was you.”

Hood is egging you on, pushing you to prove him wrong. He wants you to do this, wants you to pick up that gun and send a bullet straight through him. He wants you to because he knows you won’t.

The worst part is that he’s right.

You turn your head away from the gun, away from him. It’s answer enough.

You see Hood nod slowly out of the corner of your eye, reaching for his gun to holster it with a rustle and a click. He sets his feet back down to the ground, crossing his arms over the table to lean forward.

“Alright. So tell me again now. Why did Falcone send you?”

The change in tone has you thrown for a loop. Within seconds, the pressing intimidation from before is gone, now much softer in comparison.

So you tell him everything. From your neighbor at your door, from your debt to Falcone, the threats he’d made, all the way to the present moment. This time, Hood doesn’t interrupt you once. He listens carefully, nodding at all of the right places to each relevant point. When you finish, he simply asks you if there’s anything else worth mentioning. At the shake of your head, Hood stands.

“I’ll have someone let Falcone know that his exchange has been well received. So long as he thinks you’re with us now, no one you know will be bothered. As for you, you’ll be free to do whatever you want with your days, just as long as you’re here during the nights. How’s that work for you?”

For a moment, all you can do is stare. Then, ever so cautiously, you dare to ask, “you’re not gonna kill me?”

Hood shrugs. “I have no reason to. This way, you’ll be safe and I won't be bothered by Falcone trying to buy back my truce.”

“But what about your whole…you know.”

Hood raises a brow at you, urging you to continue.

“You know. The whole ‘eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth’ thing.”

Hood grins, toothy and predatory. “Trust me, doll, I’ll still be getting something back from Falcone. I tend not to forgive easy. Hands out for me.”

Quicker than you can process his intentions past putting out your hands, Jason is drawing out his revolver and shooting the chain between your cuffs quicker than you can flinch. He ignores your stunned expression, clipping his weapon back to himself.

“I’ll ask the girls to get you some decent clothes and set you up a tent. Pleasure meeting you.”

Without another word, he’s exiting the tent and leaving you to stare at the chain that used to link your wrists, now scattered into tiny pieces of metal across wood.

[demonslayerunhinged]

SaneGiyuu Argument 3 - 'They hate each other!'

@roseameilatempest made an amazing and thorough analysis of Sanemi's complicated feelings about Giyuu.

I'll make my analysis from Giyuu's point of view. Giyuu doesn't hate Sanemi and I have no idea where antis got that vibe from when everything about his interactions with Sanemi shows that he desires a connection with him.

So let's start from the beginning.

Season 1 Episode 22

Giyuu ignores the hounding of the other Hashiras about Tanjiro and Nezuko.

Looks off to the side, not saying anything, just ignoring them for the most part.

Until that is, he hears the sexy voice of his boo.

Then we see him respond by sneaking a glance, hmmmmmm. He wouldn't do that if it was the voice of someone he hated. You might say that he sensed that Sanemi was carrying Nezuko's box but no, Giyuu doesn't have super hearing or smell like Zenitsu or Tanjiro. It was Sanemi's voice he responded to.

During the Taisho secret segment, the only time he talks is to tease Sanemi, he wouldn't do that if he hated him.

Light Novel 2 - One-Winged Butterfly, Chapter 5

The Master expressed his worry that Giyuu doesn't smile and requested for the Hashiras to make him do so in hopes that Giyuu will bond with the rest of the group. The hashiras try various methods to make Giyuu laugh and fail including Mitsuri who TICKLES Giyuu! I wish I could see that scene get animated 😂

Shinobu then gets the idea to ask Sanemi to ask Giyuu ou- I mean, ask him to eat his favorite food salmon stewed with daikon with him. It's funny how shinobu went to Sanemi when she would have easily gone to Rengoku, Mitsuri or even Uzui who love to go out and eat but no she asks Sanemi. My theory is that she knows Giyuu likes Sanemi and eating his favorite food with his crush will definitely make him happy.

But of course, it doesn't go well.

Giyuu wouldn't even think of going to eat with Sanemi if he hated him.

Season 5 Episode 1

Giyuu has no problem talking back to and making fun of Sanemi, Sanemi is literally the only one he makes the effort to talk to of his own volition. It's almost like a guy teasing his crush.

Again, if he hated Sanemi he wouldn't bother talking to him.

Season 5 Episode 7

Now this is where the main shit is so let's break it down. First take a look at Giyuu's body language. Giyuu is known to be a stoic dude, even when he's not around people or around people he's comfortable with like Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) he always has a calm and collected demeanor.

But after the encounter with Sanemi, he seems so small and unsure. This is Giyuu at his most vulnerable.

It makes sense that he allows Tanjiro to see this part of him due to them growing closer since episode 2.

In this scene look how his eyes close in sadness/pain when he talks about Sanemi being angry.

Then he comes up with the weird idea to put ohagi in his sleeve to give to Sanemi the next time he meets him. Look how his smile softened when he pictures Sanemi's smile. Yep, pure hatred. I too smile fondly when I picture my enemy's smile as I give them their favorite food.

Side note: there's this weird thing online where I see people infantilizing Giyuu in that uwu-he-just-wants-a-fwend way and just no. Like yeah, the way he was drawn in this entire exchange is cute but he's still a grown man. He's not being all cute uwu at making a friend, he is attracted to Sanemi. Tanjiro (bestest boy ❤) has the expression of someone who wants to make Sanemi his friend, Giyuu does not.

Also, food and sharing food with loved ones is a big deal in Japan and by extension Demon Slayer(I plan to make a post about it). It's a way to express love and build connections. So it makes sense that Giyuu sees the ohagi as a way to connect with Sanemi since words fail him.

So anyway that all I have as evidence - NOT!

Light Novel 2 - One-Winged Butterfly, Chapter 5(again!)

This takes place right after Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) got punched by Sanemi. He's training with Giyuu and they decide to take a break and talk....about Sanemi.

When their conversation gears towards the training, Giyuu abruptly asks about Tanjiro's(bestest boy ❤) restraining order.

After recounting the story where the other Hashiras were trying to make him laugh, he asks

And Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) responds

And guess what he does in the future

In Conclusion, this argument can also kiss my ass!

Edit:

The hashira trying to make Giyuu smile and Giyuu talking about Sanemi with Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤) actually happened in the second light novel One-winged Butterfly not the first Flowers of Happiness, I've made corrections. My mistake, sorrry!

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Breaking Dishes. - OC

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 2.7K~ cw: smut, arguments, violence, fighting/roughousing, breaking dishes, insults, toxic relationship.

It’s 8:12 A.M. when Kathleen finds herself sliding off bed and wrapping herself in a flowery black and pink silk robe. John’s side of the bed is cold, a sign he’s gotten up long ago.

She pads over to their en-suite bathroom and quickly washes her face, brushes her teeth and her hair, before she leaves the bedroom in search of her husband.

As she enters the kitchen, she finds her temper already rising, her jaw clenching as she looks around, finding multiple reasons to get angry already, so early in the morning, so early in a weekend morning.

First, she finds that he’s made breakfast already. Not for them, just for himself. Nothing for her. Selfish bastard.

Second, he made himself a full English too. Having left the rest of the eggs and sausages out of the fridge. The milk too even though he KNOWS she hates when he does that.

Third, he’s left a mess of pans and utensils on the kitchen stove… Which means she can’t even cook herself breakfast if she wanted to.

Fourth, the water kettle is not full enough for her to make herself a cuppa. In fact, the water in it is already lukewarm, even if there was enough to make herself one, she still couldn’t.

And fifth, John is sitting outside in the balcony, getting some sun, while only wearing a pair of jeans, showing off his strong torso and bulging arms to the whole neighborhood. Like a bloody tart.

Oh… Kathleen. is. pissed.

“JONATHAN. WILLIAM. PRICE!” She calls out at the top of her lungs as she whips the sliding glass door open and coming face to face with the man of the hour.

“Morning, Kat.” John greets her, completely calm and collected as he looks up at her, leaning his elbow lazily on the table next to him, which holds his empty breakfast plate and cutlery. 

He’s lounging without a care in the world, a grey wool sweater across his lap, and a mug of tea in his hand.

“Morning my arse! Did’ya see the mess you left in the kitchen?!” She asks him pointedly, brown eyes wide as she glares pure daggers at him.

Unfortunately for her, her raising her voice and her stern glares do little to him now, four years into their relationship, one into their marriage. He’s gotten used to them.

“Calm your tits, woman, I’m going to clean it after I’m done here.” He replies nonchalantly as he gestures vaguely. “Can’t I have a moment’s peace?”

“Oh, you want a moment’s peace, do ya?” She asks him as she crosses her arms over her chest, dipping her head to the side. “When do I get a moment’s peace, hm? When do I get a bloody weekend when I wake up and there’s not a mess to clean or with my breakfast made for me?” She asks with a cocked brow.

John shifts around in “I let you sleep in. Didn’t make any noise. You chose to get up right now. Could've stayed asleep and you would've woken up to clean dishes.” He remaked with a shrug.

“Ex-cuse me?” Kathleen asked pointedly as she stared at him. 

“You heard me. You’re getting an attitude for no reason, da’ling.” John remarked as he finished gulping down his tea.

Kathleen wanted to yell at him some more. She really wanted to. The man drove her insane, especially when he was like this… Correct.

“Don’t you gaslight me, Jonathan. I have a right to want to wake up to a clean house and some food made for me!” She retorted, grasping at straws for something to justify her anger.

“And this is after you complained I never make breakfast the way you like it?” He retorted as he looked her up and down before standing up, gathering his plate, cutlery and empty cup of tea.

“You-!” She sputtered a bit as she looked up at her husband, who gently moved her aside so he could slip past her back inside the house. “I- You-!” She continued as she followed after him.

”Face it, Kat, you have no leg to stand on, da’lin’.” John remarked as he entered the kitchen.

“Don’t you bloody walk away from me!” She raised her voice and suddenly shoved him from behind. It caused his empty cup of tea to roll of its perch atop the dirty plate he was carrying and shatter into a million pieces on the hardwood floor. 

John stopped in his tracks as soon as the cup fell, so as to not step on the shards and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Was that fuckin’ necessary, da’lin’?”

“Yes.” Kathleen replied with a bite to her tone as she stared up into his eyes, holding her ground even as he turned and stood over her.

“Really? What’d I do to deserve that push, hm?” He asked her as he dipped his head to the side, blue eyes trailing over the form of his wife beneath him, wrapped in a silken robe that wrapped beautifully around her full figure.

Meanwhile, Kathleen’s brown eyes were glued to her husband’s figure too, trailing over the strong neck, broad shoulders, muscular pecs, soft stomach, and the abundant hair that covered it. 

“You- You were sitting outside like a bloody tart, showin’ off for the bloody neighbors!” She suddenly said as her eyes shot up to look at him, having found something to grasp on to yell at him some more.

John’s eyebrows raised, his lips morphed into a smirk and he gave her a mocking look, his nose scrunching up a bit. “Is that what this is, da’lin’? You’re jealous?” He asked her condescendingly.

“Oh piss off, John, I’m not jealous!” She retorted pointedly as she glared at him.

“Right…” John asked as he took a step over her. “Then why are you complaining about me being shirtless, then?” He teased her as one of his hands moved to grasp her around the chin, squeezing her face lightly.

“I-” Kathleen tried to defend herself, having already realized that today just wasn’t one of her days when it came to having a sharp tongue. So she did what she could, ever competitive she was, wasn’t going to take the disrespect lying down.

Grabbing his forearm, she ripped his hand off her face, then, took the plate off his other hand, and threw it across the living room blindly, hearing it shatter somewhere, probably against the bookshelf by the TV.

“Fuck. You. John Price. I’m sick and tired of your bloody attitude.” She pointed a finger in his face and then poked him on the chest. “You think you can walk around here as you wish, as if you’re in bloody charge? I think the fuck not!” She scolded him.

John didn’t even flinch at her poking him, or the plate being hurled across the room. He was used to this. Used to her. Hell, it turned him on when Kathleen was being a cunt to him.

John reached forward and grabbed her by her right forearm, pulling her against him. “Yeah? Then who’s in charge, da’lin’?” He challenged as he looked down his nose at her.

“It sure as hell isn’t you!” She retorted, her voice, much like her hackles, raised, even if she didn’t try, at all, to pull away from him. She wasn’t afraid of John. Never had been, never would be.

“Let’s see about that then.” John told her as he pulled her over to the living couch, spun her away from him and bent her over the armchair.

Kathleen squeaked softly, knowing well what was coming, as John pinned her wrists behind her back with one hand, the other rolling up her robe to expose her thighs and her ass.

“Who’s in charge, hm?” John goaded her before he whipped his hand back and delivered a hard smack to one of her round ass cheeks, causing it to ripple, a moan falling from her parted lips.

“Not. You.” She replied, huffing a moan again when he delivered a second smack to her ass. “Fuck. You. John.” She grunted through her teeth.

“What’d you say, da’lin’?” John asked as he leaned close to her ear. “Did you just tell me to go fuck myself?” He teased, watching as she fruitlessly writhed over the armrest, her head buried down in the couch cushion, her hands and arms struggling in his grip.

She rolled her head to the side so she could catch him through the corner of her eye. “Yes, I fucking did. And I’ll say it again. Fuck you, John.” She spat at him.

“Tsk-tsk. Brat.” John mused with a smirk on his lips. She could hear it. Then he smacked her again, and again, always making sure to strike the same spot, her skin already redening and blushing as the skin warmed up and the blood vessels popped below it.

John only gave her a break once the dulcets of her voice had softened and her moans had become whimpers, her arms and hands having gone limp in his grasp. “Who’s in charge, Kat?” He checked as he looked at her with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Kathleen’s brown eyes caught his, her face just as red as her ass, her eyes widened, pupils blown from lust. “Fuck. You.” She gritted through her teeth.

“Oh, that wasn’t enough was it, sweet’art?” He goaded again. “Very well.” He added. John’s hand grabbed hold of the waist band of her panties and pulled them down swiftly, noting the wet spot she had already left in them. 

“Someone’s enjoying being spanked huh, you brat? Someone likes having an attitude adjustment…” He goaded as he let go of her panties, letting them fall around her ankles.

Before Kathleen could even retort properly, John’s rough and calloused fingers delivered a slap to her puffy cunt, causing her to squirm and squeal, her legs straightening up and trembling. 

“John!” She cried out as he continued repeatedly slapping her pussy, causing her to squirm and writhe against the hard material of the armrest below her. 

“That’s it, call my name, da’lin’.” He goaded as he kept repeatedly and continuously smacking her warm, wet folds. “Who’s in charge, here, huh?”

“F-Fuck… You!” She spat at him, as she finally freed her arms from John’s weakened grip. Then, she threw an elbow back, hitting her husband squarely in the nose.

“Ah, you cunt!” John complained as he suddenly stumbled back back, one hand shooting up to cup his now bleeding nose, while Kathleen suddenly rolled off her perch on the couch.

“No, you’re the cunt!” She retorted before suddenly lunging herself at him, throwing her whole weight on top of John, who, not expecting it, landed on the floor with a hard thud.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat!” John replied as he tried to get a grab at his wife, instead, only getting her trying to grip him by the arms and pin him to the floor.

She struggled with it, of course, she might have some military training, but not nearly enough to fight him, and definitely not enough strength to fight him.

His forearms bulged under her hands, the rough skin prickling with goosebumps, the adrenaline flowing through his veins, as well as hers, the both of them desperate to fight the other.

John bucked his hips and rolled them over before she could even attempt a proper pin down, landing her on the floor with a thud and a huff from her lungs.

He grabbed her by the hair with one hand, the other gripping her wrists together and pining her to the floor instead. 

Kathleen wrapped her legs around his hip and attempted to roll them over again, unsuccessfully, so, instead, she did the only thing she could do. She leaned up and spat in John’s face.

John’s eyes closed for a moment and his jaw clenched before they opened again, looking even more angry and… horny than before. “Is that how it’s going to be, Kathleen?” He asked her as he let go of her hair and used his hand to collect the spit off his skin. 

“Yeah, it is-” She barely had time to continue before he was plugging her mouth with his fingers, causing her to swallow them and her own saliva back up, pressing down on his tongue, preventing her from continuing her tirade.

“Keep your smart-ass gob shut, sweetheart, or you won't have a fuckin' jaw to move when I'm done wit ya.” He told her, eyes locked on hers. Kathleen looked up at him, eyes widened, pupils blown, before she wrapped her lips around his fingers, beginning to give him a suck.

“That’s it…” He told her. “You look so much better with your mouth shut…” He goaded her with a smirk on his lips. Kathleen’s eyes sparkled with mischief at his comment, a clear sign that she felt challenged by his condescending tone… So, she bit down onto his fingers as hard as he could.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat…” John hissed as he pushed his fingers deeper in her mouth like one would a dog, causing her to sputter and choke, and forcing her to let go of them, allowing him to pull them back out.

“C’mere.” He demanded and grabbed her jaw with tight fingers, forcing her mouth to open, before he swished his tongue inside his own mouth to collect some saliva, before spitting it into her mouth. “Swallow.” He demanded and, for once, she obeyed. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Kathleen then squeaked in surprise as he pulled open her robe, leaving it splayed open on the hardwood floor before he grabbed one of her legs, pushing it up against her chest while he sat over the other one.

“We need to adjust that fuckin’ attitude of yours. It’s way too bloody early for you to be fightin’ me, you hear?!” He taunted her as he undid the fly in his jeans and shimmied both his the trousers and boxer briefs down, allowing him to pull out his hardened cock.

“Fuck you, John.” She retorted as she squirmed a bit beneath him, trying to drag herself away with the help of her elbows.

“That’s what I’m about to do to you, sweetheart.” He taunted her before he quickly grabbed hold of her again, using one hand to push her down against the floor, one hand wrapped around her jaw and neck, while the other wrapped around his cock and used it to brush his leaky tip against her folds.

“John-” Kathleen grumbled as she wrapped her own hands around his hairy forearm, nails digging into his flexed muscle, dragging drown his skin.

“Sh-Shhh…”  He murmured before he drove his cock deep into her cunt, causing her to huff and moan, her head falling back as he plunged as far as he could.

“That’s my girl…” He teased her. He shifted around and lifted her other leg too, pushing it forward against her chest, allowing him to sink in deeper, before he started thrusting his hips down into her.

Her warm walls spread open to accommodate him, his cock making way inside fully with each snap of his hips. “That’s it… That’s what you needed, isn’t it?” He goaded her with a smirk. Unluckily for her, Kathleen could do little more than nod in agreement.

“Tell me you love me, da’lin’...” John cooed at his wife as he pounded deep into her, reaching that spot in her walls that only John had ever been able to reach.

“I love y-oooh…” Kathleen murmured, being cut off by a sudden shift in his demeanor, a more aggressive, ruthless rhythm coming into place, his hips snapping punishingly against hers, his cock bottoming out in her.

“That’s it, Kat, tell me you love me… Tell me you love me…” He repeated over and over. “Tell me you love me and my cock inside you, da’lin’... Tell me…”

“I love you, John…” Kathleen whined, her head rolling back on the hard floor, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh spot between his shoulder blades, her nails just barely grazing the tattoo on his nape.

“You’re such a fuckin’ cunt, Kat… Such a fuckin’ cunt… But I love you so much…” John murmured before he pressed his lips into hers in a sloppy, wet kiss.

[bronz3y]

~ Angry sex ~ - Vivianne Miedema

A/n - Hey guys!, I’m back (for now) I got this ask and decided to write it at 4am xxx

( this isn’t proof read very well :,) )

- After loosing against Chelsea, Viv decides that the best way to take out her anger is to fuck you. -

Warnings: smut

as the final whistle went, you could immediately see the shift in viv’s face from concentration, to disappointment from the stands. You knew your girlfriend was going to have a rough night after a loss against Chelsea, she hated the feeling of being beat by arsenals rival team, just like all of her teammates.

But something was different this time when Viv got inside the passenger seat of your car, as you looked at her face, you could see it, god she was angry.

your usually shy, and sweet girlfriend didn’t like showing her anger after a loss even though she got upset, all because she didn’t want to bring it out on the girl she cared for so dearly.

But here you were, inside your car, where you could feel the anger and annoyance radiating off her. her eyebrows are furrowed and her eyes focusing on anything but yours.

You reach out your hand slowly onto her shoulder and softly rub it, trying to calm her down.

“Baby?, you okay?” You whispered, trying to get your girlfriend to talk.

You heard her take in a big breath, and breathe out.

“Let’s just go home, please.” She spoke bitterly.

You wordlessly nodded and started the car.

For the whole 30 minutes ride home from the emirates, Viv didn’t speak a word, you would take glances at her to make sure she was ok, but she would just be staring out the car window, not making eye contact with you.

When you finally parked the car in the driveway, you let out a small breath and once again looked at your girlfriend.

“Come on love, let’s get inside yeah?” You said giving her a small smile.

She gave a single nod and got out the car.

You both walked up to the front door after collecting all the stuff from the boot and finally opened the door to your shared home.

But once you closed the door behind you Viv turned around and pinned you against the door.

Your eyes widen and your girlfriend finally looks at you, now that you finally made eye contact, you can see how truly angry she was, this was the first time you had seen her this angry because of football.

Vivs hand rests on your waist, her thumb slowly rubbing your hipbone.

“Baby I need a favour” she rasps out her eyes not leaving yours,You nod at her to continue.

“Can I use the strap on you?” She says.

You immediately feel the head grow between your legs, you and Viv both had plenty of sex, even though the striker seemed shy, in the bedroom she was the complete opposite. She could be needy for you to touch her and make her cum, or she could be like this, telling you she wants to fuck you senseless while pinning you against a door.

You let out a small moan as her hand moved from your waist, down to your thigh, teasing you with her fingers against the fabric of your joggers.

“Please” you whine after a few seconds of her fingers distracting you.

She then kissed you roughly against the door, you moved your right hand to the back of her neck and the left to her shoulder, you felt her tongue swipe against your bottom lip and then her teeth softly biting it, you let out the whine as she did.

“Such pretty noises” she groaned, her hands wandering to your ass and picking you up, your legs wrap against her waist and she guides the both of you to your bedroom, your lips still connected.

She drops you on the bed and you move back for your head to rest on the pillows, she quickly follows you, pinning you against the mattress. She removes both your top and bra and you do the same to her, she then runs her tongue up your sternum, eyes connected to yours, your hands find their place in her messy hair pulling at it.

Her lips move to your breasts, kissing at the left mound, making her way to your perked nipple, she swirls her tongue around it, softly biting it trying to get all the noises out of you.

“Fuck baby” you moan softly, your eyes shut in pleasure.

She then removes her lips from your nipple with a pop, her hands move to the hem of your joggers and pulls them down quickly. You’d never seen Viv be this rough and quick while having sex, Viv usually preferred having more slow and intimate sex than rough and fast paced sex, but today she clearly had a different plan, and you were loving it.

She then moves her body over yours and opens the drawer of the bedside table , grabbing the harness and your shared purple strap. she easily gets everything on and returns to her place between your legs.

“Is this okay?” She asked seriously, as much as she wanted to fuck you to let her anger out, she also needed to make sure you were actually okay with it.

“Yeah baby, just carry on, please” you whimpered, grabbing the strap and trying to push it yourself. You then felt vivs hand around your wrist, she then pinned both of them over your head.

“You’re not allowed to touch” she said seriously.

“Fuck baby please” you begged her, as the tightness between your legs was becoming uncomfortable.

“Patience baby” she said kissing your lips.

She then dipped her hand between your thighs to feel how wet you were, and she wasn’t disappointed.

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked” she groaned, into your ear sliding two fingers through your folds, as she nibbled your earlobe. You whined at her words.

“Please Vivi , just fuck me” you moan, looking at her though your hooded eyes.

That was enough for Viv to finally position the tip of the strap and roughly push in, making you take the whole length of it. As soon as it entered you, she began pounding into your tight pussy.

“Is this what you wanted huh? Me fucking my anger out on you?” She groaned, increasing her speed.

Your moans didn’t allow you to answer her question so you just nodded, you covered your mouth with your hands, trying to stop the loud noises coming from your lips, you didn’t want your neighbours to file a noise complaint. Bus as soon as Viv saw your hand on your mouth, she once again grabbed your wrist and pinned it over your head.

“I want everyone to hear how I’m fucking you” she grunted, her hand then moved to your nipple, her fingers toying with your sensitive nub.

“Fuck baby I’m close” you moan, your hands grabbing the sheets over your head.

Viv then pulls out the strap, and before you can complain, she flips you over.

“On your knees.” She orders, and you immediately do as she says.as soon as you get into position, Viv pushes into you, returning to her fast thrusts.

You felt like you were in some porn video, the sound of skin slapping, the roughness Viv is showing, the loudness of your moans. god you never knew you needed to be fucked in this way by shy and soft Vivianne.

“Baby I’m gonna cum—fuck I’m so close” you moan your arms collapsing from the force of Viv’s thrusts.

“Hold it, I want you to cum with me” she groaned, her body now flushed against yours as she pounded into you.

After a few more thrusts, you could hear small moans coming from Viv, she was close.

“Now baby—fuckk, cum for me Liefde” she groaned.

Your body shook as the waves of pleasure took over your body, Vivs thrusts becoming sloppy as she also climaxed, her rough pounding slowly becoming gentle thrusts to help you ride out your orgasm.

Viv then flipped you over gently and nuzzled her face into the crook of your neck, planting small kisses on the slightly sweaty skin.

“Fuck baby.” You finally said after a few minutes of the both of you taking in the post orgasm feeling.

“Did you like it” Viv said lifting her head off you and looking at you worriedly.

“Yeah baby I really enjoyed it” you smiled at her, caressing her face with your hand, viv leaned into your hand and smiled.

She leaned down and gave you a kiss.

“I think you should get angry more often”

————————————————————————

a/n : Hope you guys liked this!, tbh I randomly got motivated to write from the ask so I decided to write it at 4am :,)