#that it wouldn’t work the way canon wants it to

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hiii!! I saw your requests were open & was wondering if you could do a hurt/comfort vi x f!reader (romantic but could be platonic I don’t mind). Reader could be from the undercity and have similar experiences w vi so they relate and understand each other on that level. Not rlly sure what the angst could be but there’s a lot of canon to work from (like maybe vi sees smth that reminds her of her time in prison? Or smth idk), and reader is there to like, comfort/ground her. Like overall vi has a shitty time but has someone in her corner to listen/comfort her and maybe give her a hug yk? Anyways tyyy!

Sure I can! Enjoy!

To Be Loved

Vi hadn’t seen you in so long, at least, that she can remember. The alcohol did that.

All she remembered now was the shame of you finding her in the cramped apartment, after seeing her brutal pit fight.

The blood coating her knuckles, the makeup and black hair dye. But under it all, it was still your Vi.

Your hands cradled her off the floor, and she couldn’t understand why, but the feeling of your hands on her skin once more, brought tears.

“Oh, Vi…”

“I’m- I’m so tired, (Name)…I can’t-“ Vi cried, snot rubbing onto your shirt as she sobbed and gripped onto it with all the strength she could.

“I couldn’t protect her- I let him down… I let everyone down.” Vi insisted. It was unspoken of the people she spoke of, their names were never said out loud but it was practically screaming.

You told the stories, shared the memories and the pain, but never said their names. It made it real. It seemed like it was barely hitting Vi just now…

That her life would never be the same. Powder wouldn’t come home after playing with Ekko, Claggor and Mylo wouldn’t be clambering around on the floor, and Vander would never call them for dinner in The Last Drop.

Ever again.

Her family was gone.

The realization made her ugly sob into your neck, the sound crackling throughout the room as you held the back of her head and rubbed her back as you both sat on the ground.

The ring was her way of punishing herself. To feel the pain in her mind she had caused Powder, caused Jinx and Vander and Mylo and Claggor, even Ekko.

“You didn’t fail them.” You insisted, shaking your head as you shushed her cries and holding her to you. She tried to rebuttal, shaking her head but you simply pulled back.

You cradled her face in your hands, the look on her face so similar to seven years ago.

You mustered up your best smile and shook your head as you wiped her tears and she stared and cried at the feeling.

“You were a kid, Vi. Nothing was your fault.” You whispered gently, pressing your forehead to hers. Your lashes almost tickled her cheeks, almost mixing with her tears as she sniffled.

“Vanders proud of you. Powder…she’s not dead. She’s still here…” You whispered softly, your hand faintly ghosting over her heart.

Even if Powder changed, no matter how much she rebutted her name and past, grew her hair and grew taller, she couldn’t rid herself of the prescrnse you and Vi had on her life. She was still Powder. Just different.

“I hurt her.” Vi stated, trying to avoid your gaze. You frowned, looking her over for a moment as you saw the shame. She never wanted to hurt Powder.

“You love her.” Was all you could offer, pressing a gentle kiss to your loves forehead as she closed her eyes.

Everything inside her hurt, everything was aching and she hated herself. She felt guilty for indulging in your comfort, in taking it.

But even if everything was falling apart, her home, you, was still standing.

Your soft hands cradling her, your lips ghosting over her cheeks, her nose, her lips, her forehead and brows and lashes…she couldn’t help but drown herself in it.

She held onto you. Gripping your shirt and fisting it between her fingers as she hid herself in the comfort you provided.

In your comfort, Vi knew she would be okay.

The steady beat of your heart just made it all the more real. The hands that cradled her made it all the more real.

And you sealed it with a kiss.

[canichangemyblogname]

Look, THIS is why I’m not upset with Tommy breaking things off with Buck, just the rhetoric they (the show) wrote for WHY they broke up and the general lack of resolution we’re likely to get. The break up itself is like… yeah, okay. It’s drama on a drama. People CAN see Tommy’s perspective: Buck DOES still have things to learn and IS still impulsive. There ARE a lot of things Buck does not know.

It’s the dialogue they wrote for Tommy and the likely lack of follow through that has me like 😑. Let me explain—

Tommy could have followed up Buck’s question about moving in with, “I’m not so sure moving in would work out; I think it’s too soon.” Buck blinks as he hesitates. “Uh— w-we-well, why not?” “Look— you’re an incredible guy. You’re funny and hot and kind… but you’re impulsive, and I feel like you may still have some things to learn.” “I—I’m not sure I know what you mean?” “We’re in two very different places in our lives. I feel the way you see me is incompatible with the partnership I want in a long-term relationship.” Tommy takes a sharp breath in. He pauses. “I—,”Tommy falters, “I’m not so sure we will work out.” “Wait— are-are you breaking up with me?” And then we get the similarly devastating, “Yeah… I guess so. Believe me, I didn’t see this coming, either.” A beat, and then, “See you around, Buck.”

And the thing is? This feels more resolved without fully closing the door. The reasoning behind why they’re breaking up is because Tommy feels they’re in two different places in life. He feels like moving in is too soon and that Buck is being impulsive. He feels like Buck is treating him more like a gay yoda than a partner, and so moving in will put their relationship on an unsustainable course that positions Tommy less as a partner and more as a forever teacher.

Additionally, characterizing the breakup as the result of being in different places in life (and emotionally) could continue a narrative trend of Tommy successfully working out emotions in a way Buck has not yet learned. Buck was so jealous and in need of Tommy’s attention that he maimed his best friend. However, when Tommy was jealous of the 118, that did not manifest in any real-world consequences because Tommy processed that jealousy in a healthy, normal way. Buck has daddy issues, and this directly impacts his emotional relationship with his father and Bobby, and his professional issues with Gerrard. However, Tommy has already come to terms with the nature of his relationship with his dad and, it could be argued, he has processed his daddy issues or dealt with them in a more productive way. At the same time, should the author want to do something with these character threads later on, the foundation has already been laid to explore Tommy’s jealousy and possible daddy issues as sources of conflict later. (Later exploring this also wouldn’t do the breakup scene any injustice, as the main reason for the breakup is how Buck views Tommy and the growth—re: impulsiveness— that Buck still needs to undergo.)

This hypothetical also avoids the whole, “Why would someone date someone else for six months when they just assume that person’s going to leave them and break their heart at any moment?” This hypothetical additionally avoids these characters breaking up explicitly because they have the same wants and desires for the relationship, like what we got in canon. (In canon, Tommy literally went, “You’re good looking and funny and kind and incredible and I really want to be with you, and you want to be with me, too, and that’s why we actually can’t be together.” 🙄) It also avoids re-hashing conflicts the characters have already addressed, like Tommy thinking Buck isn’t yet ready for or comfortable with his queerness, because this hypothetical would focus on Buck’s history of impulsivity or grand declarations when things get tough or weird. It also avoids the fact that Tommy did agree to try again, knowing that Buck didn’t have a label yet and then attended a wedding as Buck’s date, so why does he suddenly have an issue with Buck’s sexuality 6 months in? And, this hypothetical also still leaves the door open in the event the author wants to revisit this character dynamic, but currently cannot develop it due to cast contracts. Because Buck can wise up. He can admit that he had approached some aspects of the relationship a little impulsively; that he was prone to hitting Tommy with these grand declarations. Buck can change the way he views Tommy. Buck can change the way he sees relationships as something meaningful designed to help his own growth (“transformative” and all that). And all of this can happen with Tommy off screen. They theoretically then COULD meet again when they’re in similar places in their lives (and emotionally), or Buck could apply his newfound growth to his next relationship or final relationship.

Because Buck does still have growing to do and things to figure out, it’s just that none of those things are about whether or not he likes men, as Tommy’s canon monologue implies with the whole, “You’re still figuring yourself out… I’m not your last; I’m your first.”

But that’s ultimately what we got. We got that BS about firsts and lasts where Tommy downplayed what Buck feels for him and why, and outright assumed Buck’s feelings now and in the future. He spent that entire scene giving Buck the ol’ biphobic, “you still gotta figure yourself out” and “you’ll just leave me for someone else” lines. He then concludes his break up dialogue by telling Buck that he’s afraid Buck will break his heart and that he can’t handle that, implying that he’s breaking it off due to anxieties around getting hurt emotionally. But the thing is? Tommy’s insecurities aren’t resolvable with Tommy off screen because Tommy needs to be on screen to show that growth. So, if contracting is or becomes an issue for someone who is NOT A MAIN, then there will be no resolution. Don’t hint at a character having major insecurities as a source of conflict—on par with that of a main— if the show cannot dedicate the appropriate screen time to that character to resolve that conflict.

Because right now? This FEELS like the set up for the third act’s preclimax. Tension between the characters is at its highest. Now Buck—the hero—must look inward and decide whether to prevail. He must face his deepest fears and greatest weaknesses. He must come out on the other side knowing that he is not listless; he knows what he wants for his future. This would take Buck full circle from who he was in his “Begins” episode where he didn’t know what he wanted or who he wanted to be, and hopped from place to place on this journey. Buck will realize he has hopped from relationship to relationship because he hadn’t defined himself well enough, but NOW he knows who he is. And once he realizes that, we reach the climax: the confrontation. Buck confronts Tommy about Tommy breaking his heart. This immediately segues into the resolution where Tommy acknowledges this hurt and admits the break was due to his own insecurities. And then, much like in season 3 with Abby, the show could keep them broken up to continue their Tommy-Abby parallel. (IMHO— if a resolution is the goal, keeping them broken up would be a more likely outcome when considering contracts. If the two got back together, that would require the show to dedicate a good chunk of screen time to addressing Tommy’s insecurities, something they may not be able to follow through with due to availability.) And then we actually have an on screen portrayal of HOW Tommy was transformative for Buck as opposed to just being told he was.

However, this resolution still requires Tommy to return, and exit interviews seem to suggest the actor who plays Tom is not returning. Meaning, this may remain unresolved. We could have had something that seemed resolved with the potential to revisit it, but instead we have something that would require the show to feature heavily conflict revolving around the insecurities of a character who is not a main, played by an actor who is juggling multiple projects.

Why not make the conflict something that can be resolved with Tommy off screen? Why not provide a little resolution if you cannot guarantee more Tommy? Why hint at fundamental changes to Buck’s character journey and the outcomes of his relationships if this one ends like all the others? Why suggest the show is going to fundamentally alter the way it writes love interests, something that would necessitate a change to how the show approaches any and all secondary characters? Why build up Tommy as a source of character conflict and major transformation for Buck if they cannot dedicate the appropriate screen time to establish that? (Because, remember, Buck TOLD the audience that Tommy was transformative for him, but we’ve yet to see how he’s been transformative like we have with any of Buck’s other previous love interests.) Why build up his insecurities if the show cannot address them?

I actually think they should have stopped going to Miceli’s. I think that place is cursed. Weird vibes. Every time they went, it was awkward.

[kinardsevan]

FYI, I'm crowdfunding a retirement plan for Tim and a place for you on the 911 writers team. I'm sure you can help them sort out the rest of the plots too!

I don’t know if this is genuine or sarcastic, so I’m just going to say this:

I don’t claim to know anything about media literacy. What I do understand is intricate plot and telling a compelling story. I also understand that from the end of 806, I said almost immediately “I feel manipulated”. This has deep personal connotations for me, but the point remains, and because of those personal relations, I get an actual “ick” about feeling manipulated. Now again, I have zero clarity one way or the other as to whether the manipulation is based out of them actually fucking this storyline up or if it’s because of the way they’re trying to pitch it to us as an “exit” and “ending”. Either way, that hasn’t left me.

All I know at the end of the day is that if these people don’t understand how to recover from this decision, they don’t belong in writing television. There’s also the point that I’ve made this week, that this is not the first time TM & Co have done something like this. They’ve done it with Madney. They’ve done it with Tarlos. We’ve even seen it to some degree with Bathena. What set us all off was the interviews, which we’ve all stated from day one were …odd. The thing that stays with me though, is the fact that not once has any one of these interviews stated “Tommy Kinard is gone for good”. I’ve read dozens of exit interviews (said this too earlier this week), and the only people CALLING it an exit interview, are the interviewers. Lou said the arc was over. By the very definition of what needs to be shared and said between BuckTommy for the reconciliation, he’s right. They’ve spanned the first arc of their relationship. Further, another thing that sticks out in my mind is his statement towards how he wouldn’t turn down playing Tommy again because, to his knowledge, there’s nothing else similar to their relationship happening on television. Which is SO important for representation. I also keep thinking about his tweet “keep the hope alive”. Obviously that can be read as he just wants more work… or it can be read as, there’s more coming, don’t give up on them yet.

Above all else, it’s the crowd reaction. We know the “other team” thinks this is all to tee them up into their pairing, and here’s my response to that:

One, it’s not. Because we know that’s now what TPTB want. But two, if it is, I hope they’re prepared for the mass exodus that takes place when all the people who DON’T want that pairing stop watching. And of course, those who do but don’t get the version of it that they want because RG and OS don’t want to play it the way the fandom thinks it should.

I’m not above saying that if they made them canon, I don’t think I’d stick around. It doesn’t serve the story, it spits in the face of what RG has been trying to communicate for years about himself and Hispanic men in general, and especially on the heels of this, it would feel dirty.

Anyway, I rambled on on this far longer than I meant to. Oops!

[salem-witch-slut]

I Don't Need You (Don't You Leave Me)(18+)

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: You and Ellie were always at each other's throats. Everything between you two felt like a competition. But when you are severely injured on patrol one day because of Ellie's carelessness, things between you change.

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, descriptions of blood/bones breaking, awkward!Ellie, reader described as taller and stronger than Ellie, switch!Ellie (more sub though), dom!reader, fingering, face-sitting (Ellie receiving), spanking, Ellie calls reader "princess"

WORD COUNT: 9.3K

A/N: I always loved this one... I thought it was really cute and Ellie feels very in character for this one.

You hated morning patrols… Well, not so much morning, but the horrendous feeling of being awake before the sun is up. When you agreed to run through Hoback Pass, you were under the stipulation that you’d be riding with Jesse… You know, someone you got along with? Someone who wasn’t so cocky that they may as well have a membership card to the medical tent.

Someone so frustrating that it made your skin crawl just thinking about her… But Jesse had traded shifts with her, and now you had no choice but to put up with the reason you knew how to say fuck you in 3 different languages.

Your hands were tight on the reins of your stallion as you were almost falling asleep in the saddle. It was too warm that morning, and you wanted to go crawl back in bed and forget that this day was even taking place. And yet, fate had other things to say about it, that tricky bitch.

“Would you move your ass already?”

Her voice rang in your ears, forcing you to look up. The way the sun reflected down onto her auburn hair and how it accentuated her muscly biceps in the glow of orange. You may have blushed had you not felt so tired and instead of admiring her hot arms, you were scowling and rolling your eyes so hard that you’re amazed they didn’t get stuck in the back of your head.

“Trust me, Ellie,” You spoke, kicking your horse into a soft trot before yanking on the reins and stopping right next to her and her mare. “I’ll be the happiest I’ve ever been once this shit is all over.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You clicked your tongue against the back of your teeth and groaned. “It means you are driving me fucking crazy.”

“Yeah?” Ellie yanked Shimmer in front of you and your stallion who halted and gave a challenging huff, much like you did. “Then keep up. Sooner we check in, the sooner we’re done.”

Shimmer trotted in front with her rider in tow and you huffed. “Bitch.”

It was always like this with you two. Sometimes when patrol groups were in threes, you and Ellie almost always got put on those, with Joel or Tommy playing mediator so you two wouldn’t just get into an all-out fist fight in the middle of the trail. Sometimes it worked, and sometimes you left with a bruise on your face and her with a split lip.

What was it about Ellie Williams that just… got under your skin? What was it that made you so infuriated whenever she spoke to you? Was it because she had always been rude to you? Maybe it was her inability to accept her mortality with how fucking reckless she always was. Was it her I’m better than you attitude?

Maybe it was something else entirely… Maybe you two were at each other’s throats because the sexual tension between you two was so annoying that Dina and Jesse had a bet going on who was going to kiss who first.

Everybody saw it. Everybody but you two. Ellie thought you were beautiful, assertive, and highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat. But she also said you were a hard-ass, bossy, and over-analyzed every little detail to the point that she would need a fucking magnifying glass to see all the fine print in your plans.

And Ellie? Ellie was a hardcore badass who thought with her fists before using her head, which was strange due to how absolutely brilliant she was. You heard her talks with her friends; she knew so much about science and space and literature… Why was she always so dumb when it came to her safety?

You were thinking very rude and nasty things as you two continued your trek down the trail, stopping every once in a while, to look for supplies inside of old buildings and watching Ellie do some fucking acrobatic shit just to get another one of her useless superhero cards on the third floor of a destroyed building. You were on the ground, checking your rifle for probably the thousandth time that day when the sounds of obvious distress made you look up.

“Shit, MOVE! ” Ellie shouted and watched as you had to roll out of the way to not get hit in the head with a rusted ladder that clattered to the ground aggressively. Your heart pounded in your ears as you looked up at Ellie who was now trapped on the third floor of the used-to-be, building with no way down.

The emotions that went across your face were like whiplash. At first, you looked angry at her complete carelessness, and then you realized she was genuinely stuck up there and you couldn’t stop laughing. In seconds, you were doubling over, your snorts of amusement echoing in the wind as Ellie pouted. She certainly looked cute with her bottom lip sticking out like that.

“How’s the weather up there?” You paced back and forth in front of the building as Ellie huffed, laying down on her stomach and leaning over the edge a little to see just how far down it was. The only thing keeping her up was that floor and a load bearing brick pillar.

“Stop being a dick and help me! ”

You grinned. “Hmm… and why should I do that?”

“You know I’ve got a clean shot, right?” Ellie removed her pistol from the back of her jeans and held it up like it was a threat. “Bet I could hide your body pretty fucking easily.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes before picking the ladder back up, only for it to fall apart in your hands, the rusted pieces scraping against each other and falling into a heap on the ground. The amusement began to leave your face and you realized that this actually was a bad situation that she was in.

“Great, figures,” Ellie rolled onto her back and stared up at the sky. “Everything you touch turns to shit.”

“Oh, the optimism is fuckin’ killing me, El,” You shot back with an equal amount of sass. You didn’t see her blushing from where she was, which she was grateful for in the moment. “Just calm down. I’ll figure something out.”

All you got from her was a thumbs up over the side of the ledge and you sighed with irritation. Why did she have to be so… so fucking infuriating? She was 18 and still acted like a damn child sometimes. You were in your bitter thoughts as you looked around for anything that could be helpful. Another ladder? A rope? Anything that can save her sorry ass from getting stuck up there and starving to death.

“God, it’s fuckin’ hot,” The sun was up now, which meant that Wyoming was being cooked from the rays, and that meant with no shade, you were being blasted from every single angle. You stripped off your lightweight jacket and tied it around your waist. Sweat dripped from your forehead and stained your t-shirt as you dug around under the remains of some of the buildings.

You were focused on saving your partner, but in doing so, you had taken your eyes off her. And while she wasn’t exactly far away, you missed the way she was staring at you in that moment. In Ellie’s mind, all she wanted to do was trace your collarbone with her tongue and feel your hands against her ass… She truly was too gay for her own good.

Ellie scooted closer to the ledge when she saw you disappear behind a broken-down truck, and then she heard a cracking sound. The platform trembled and Ellie began backing away from the ledge as fast as she possibly could with her face going pale and her heart rate shooting sky high.

“Ellie?!” You called out, immediately abandoning what you were looking for and running over to the building. The cement between the bricks on the pillar was beginning to crack, and once that was gone, the building would be coming down in literal seconds. Your partner began panicking, looking down at you as you began to pace like a wild animal ready to attack their prey.

“Do something!” Ellie screamed as the platform shook so hard that she was knocked flat on her ass.

You laughed in the most cynical fashion. “Wh-What the hell do you want me to do?! I can’t stop it from falling down!”

“If I die because of this, I will haunt your ass forever !”

Time was running out and the building was coming down any second. You were out of options and only had one choice. “Jump!”

Ellie looked at you with her eyes wide and her fists clenched. “Are you fucking crazy—”

“ Shut the fuck up, and JUMP!”

The bricks in the middle of the pillar began snapping into pieces and Ellie realized she had no other way out of this situation. She looked down at you as you held your arms out for her. With a final, FUCK IT! Ellie jumped off the platform and into your arms.

You pushed both feet into the ground and bent your knees slightly. Ellie didn’t weigh much, and you were certain you could carry her, so why not this? And that’s exactly what happened. At first, Ellie thought you might let her hit the ground, but you had rushed forward just to make sure she didn’t hit the ground! And yes, she was light, but the momentum of her falling and you not moving had your entire body smacking against the back of the broken-down car.

The window to the passenger side door shattered with the impact of your body and you saw stars for a second with how much it hurt to hit something so hard. But you quickly remembered that you both needed to move. Without so much as a second thought, you ran out of the way of the collapsing building with Ellie still in your arms.

Of course, the fucking building had to fall at an angle. And in the direction that you were running. Your blood was rushing to your ears with adrenaline as you managed to slip on the fucking mud and ended up dropping Ellie into the dirt a few feet away from you.

“Shit, look out!” Ellie grabbed your hand and attempted to pull you away, but she wasn’t fast enough. The building came crashing down. The bulk of it missed you, but one of the wooden planks that was holding the floor together snapped off the remains and went flying in your direction. The plank came in direct contact with your leg and the sickening snapping sound definitely wasn’t from the wood.

You shrieked in agony, immediately crawling away from the rubble as it finally ceased its collapse and you fell to the dirt, whimpering in pain and tears streaking down your face. There was no doubt in your mind that your leg was broken, and you just knew that you were gonna catch so much shit for this. Your whole body felt like it was on fire and all you could think of was how much Ellie was going to hound your ass for not moving fast enough to get out of the way.

You looked up and coughed on the dust that the rubble kicked into the air, stomach twisting at the agony as you crawled away and slammed your fist into the dirt. “Fuck! God fucking damn it…”

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Ellie crouched down and placed both hands on your shoulders, getting your attention. You looked up with tears in your eyes and she brushed the hair out of your face and looked like she wanted to throw up. “Stay here… Stay right here, I’ll get the horses.”

You gave a weak laugh and dropped down into the dirt, giving her a thumbs up. “W... Where would I even go?”

A few seconds went by before Ellie returned with both horses behind her. She stopped right next to you and began to freak out, her hands going all over your back and behind your pack straps where she let out a hiss of pain. You had shards of broken glass embedded in your skin and your shirt was now soaked with blood. “Here, gimme your hand.”

Wordlessly, you slapped your palm into her grasp and braced yourself for her to yank you on your feet, which she did. You tried to keep your foot off the ground, but it was almost impossible.

“Can you get on?” Ellie questioned and you just nodded, grabbing at your horse’s saddle and jumping off the ground on your good leg, swinging the other one over the side of his back and forcing yourself to slide the foot on your broken leg into the stirrup.

Ellie jumped on Shimmer way faster than you could, and you both immediately began to ride back to Jackson, not even bothering with the checkpoint. Someone else would have to come out here to clean up your mess, and it would most likely be Maria and Shawn… As if she didn’t have enough to do already.

When the gates to the town opened up, Ellie was already helping you out of the saddle on your horse, putting one hand on your hip and the other holding your wrist as she slung your arm over her shoulder. The amount of concerned looks you two received made you feel sick. You’d have to tell everybody now that you broke your damn leg because you couldn’t move fast enough.

“Could you all stop fucking looking at us and help?!” Ellie shouted, her anger level rising as everybody was whispering but no one was doing a damn thing to help.

“What happened?!” You looked up and made a face of distress at seeing Joel and Tommy looking down at both of you, your face turning red with embarrassment. You felt so stupid.

Ellie readjusted her hold on your hip. “A building fell down; I think her leg’s broken—”

“Oh no,” You laughed, but there was no humor in your voice. “It’s definitely fucking broken…”

“Alright, c’mon then,” Without even warning you, Joel was bending down and lifting you up off the ground and into his arms, so you didn’t step on your bad leg. It was then that Tommy noticed the glass buried in your back and he immediately started swearing. “Ellie, tell Maria what happened. Gonna get her to the tent.”

As soon as you were out of earshot, Ellie let the biggest gasp escape from her mouth in her entire life. Her hand went to her chest, and she doubled over, almost like she was trying not to throw up after all of that. “I’m sorry… God damn it, I’m so sorry…”

The next few days were pretty much absolute torture for you. After the doctor had realigned your broken bone and placed you in a splint, you had been bedridden for the days to come. The timeframe given was not great… 4 whole months of nothing? 4 whole months of being trapped inside of your home with absolutely nothing for you to do? How in the actual fuck were you going to survive?

With stitches on your back and your leg wrapped around metal rods to keep it straight as it healed, you were pretty much incapacitated for the near future. Even getting yourself out of bed was a nightmare. And taking a shower may as well have been curing fucking cancer. It felt impossible every single time and you had no choice but to tape a plastic bag around the metal rods, so they didn’t rust against your skin.

It was early morning and you had just gotten yourself out of bed, sitting on your reclining chair in your small living room and watching one of your many movies you had retrieved during your patrol missions. Your leg was propped up on the bench in front of you, and you were content to stay like this all day long, unless you had to pee or something.

Of course, you were content… And then someone knocked on your damn door. A sigh left your throat as you paused the movie and pushed yourself off the chair and onto your feet. Maria had given you a set of crutches and that was the only way you would ever possibly get around for the near future. This was quite actually the fucking worst thing ever.

“Hold on,” You said as the person knocked once again. You opened the door, not even bothering to look through the window, and stumbled back a bit on your foot, your cheeks turning a soft pink.

God, Ellie sure looked like a kicked puppy when she stood like that. “Hey…”

“Uhm…” You cleared your throat for a second and stepped back. “Hi. Is there some—”

You paused and looked down, seeing that there were flowers in her hand and a solemn look on her face. Suddenly, you felt like she hadn’t come by to tear you apart for getting yourself hurt. Well, she was here for something, wasn’t she?

“How are you doing?” Ellie held the violet-colored flowers in both hands and looked over your shoulder before looking back down at her hands, almost like she couldn’t look you in the eyes.

You frowned. “I’m fine, Ellie… I just have a break, it’s not the end of the world.”

She nodded, still looking at the ground. “Right… Can I— Can I come in? I have something I need to say.”

What’s stopping you from slamming the door in her face? What’s stopping you from saying no and telling her to fuck off? Well, nothing was stopping you… but you kind of didn’t want to. If anything, you wanted to hear what she had to say… Plus, that fucking puppy-dog look was just melting your heart.

You pushed the door open with the crutch and limped away from the door, allowing Ellie to come inside of your home. She closed the door behind herself, and you hobbled your way into the kitchen where you began pouring a glass of water for her. It was just in your nature to be hospitable, apparently.

“What’s this about, El?” You sat on one of the barstools and slowly looked down at your wrapped leg, trying not to think about how your bone was all sorts of fucked under the bandages. Ellie offered the flowers to you, and for a brief moment, you forgot about your broken leg.

Ellie took notice of how you winced when you sat down, and the stitches on your exposed back. Her heart ached at the sight of them. “Listen… I didn’t mean to… W-What I’m trying to say is… I need to tell you—”

You snorted and she finally looked up to meet your eyes. You noticed her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. “I’m sorry, okay? It’s my fault you broke your leg… shit, I never meant for this to happen. I wasn’t trying to like, kill you or anything, that was a joke—”

“Ellie,” You reached out and gently grabbed her hand. You saw her whole body tense up as she looked down at you, and you responded with a smile at her confusion. “It’s okay… I’m just happy you’re okay, you know?”

The redhead looked down at her shoes… Those dirty, beat-up converse that you loved to tease her about and how she needed to fucking wear something else every once in a while, or she would be walking with holes in her soles at some point. “Yeah, well… you kind of saved my ass.”

Your own cheeks turned a soft pink as you looked down at the flowers in her hands and slowly reached for them. She offered the velvety flora for you, and you inhaled the scent of them. It reminded you of the smell of rain on a dirt road in the morning… They were definitely beautiful, and you felt something in your chest when you looked up at Ellie who was giving you a slight smile.

“Wasn’t gonna just stand there and do nothing, El,” You placed the flowers down on the counter as carefully as you could and offered her the glass of water. “I didn’t want you getting hurt… And yes, you were the dumbass that went up there in the first place, but I shouldn’t have been laughing about you getting stuck up there.”

“No, no, you were in your right to laugh,” Ellie cleared up. “It was a stupid-ass thing to do.”

“Mmmm, yeah it was,” You chuckled, watching as Ellie took the glass from your hand and looked down inside of it. “It’s not poisoned, dipshit.”

“Just making sure,” She shrugged her shoulders and sipped on the water, making you smile once again… Fuck, this was nice. It was so nice to talk to Ellie and not want to kill her for a few minutes. It was so comforting that she didn’t blame you, and that she was coming to apologize… Like she felt guilty about treating you like dirt for the past 4 years or so…

There was this warm fuzzy feeling in your chest as Ellie sat across from you at the bar and you couldn’t shake the feeling no matter how hard you tried.

It only took 3 months instead of the predicted 4. You did everything the doctor told you to do, and you were cleared for patrols in the morning. You were ecstatic at first, but then you saw the route… You were running with Tommy, and Joel was going with Ellie… But you wanted to go with Ellie; you told Maria you wanted to go with Ellie! Why didn’t she listen?

“Hey Joel,” You pulled the Texan to the side in the paddock and suddenly felt like you were asking his daughter to the fucking prom. “Uh… Is it okay if we switch routes? I-I wanted to go with Ellie.”

“Yeah, uh… about that,” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there. What happened? “Ellie doesn’t wanna go with you.”

It was like you had just got hit in the face. Your emotions went all over the place but mostly, you felt betrayal. What happened between you and Ellie recently that made her not want to go on patrol with you? Was it from the shots you two took turns doing last week? Was it when you were staring at her in the pastures yesterday? Maybe it was from the way you held her hand during that scary movie you two watched… What could have been the reason?!

Your hands clenched into fists, and you walked over to the stallion with your name on it, grabbing at his reins and yanking him away. “Thanks anyway, Joel.”

You saddled up next to Tommy, taking the rifle he gave you and checking to see if the chamber was loaded. You glanced down the line of patrollers and saw Ellie sitting next to Joel on her mare, checking her own rifle. When she looked down the line and made eye contact with you, she immediately looked away. What the fuck was her problem?

After being stuck in a house for 3 months straight, you had come to find something out about yourself. You had a very short fuse, and almost no fucking patience. Sitting in this kitchen alone, looking down at the countertop and remembering those flowers Ellie brought you when she first came to see you…

In the last 3 months, you two had gotten close. And it wasn’t the guilt that made her come around. No, she genuinely enjoyed your presence and you felt like her being with you was a breath of fresh air. You saw her a lot, and she would come outside with you when you wanted to walk around and stretch out your good leg.

And suddenly, she was cold to you… Like she couldn’t even stand to fucking look at you again. Your heart sunk down into your stomach and you looked out of your kitchen window. It was already dark outside, and you were desperate for answers on why she treated you like such shit… Why couldn’t Ellie even look at you?

In your state of anger, you grabbed your jacket from the coat rack, slid on your shoes, and you were out the door in seconds. It took a full 8 minutes to walk to Ellie’s little shed home behind Joel’s house. You pushed the back gate open and walked up to her front door, banging on the wooden surface with your whole fist.

“Gimme a damn minute!” Ellie shouted from the other side of the door. Your rage just seemed to rise as you curled your hands into fists and as soon as the door opened, you were putting a hand on her chest and shoving her inside of the house. “Jeez— the fuck is going on?!”

You spun around, slammed the door, and stared her down like she just hit you in the face… which you had half a mind to do to her once again. “What the fuck happened this morning?”

Almost immediately, Ellie flinched at your words and looked down. At least she had the damn decency to look ashamed of herself. Of course, when she said nothing, it didn’t help your anger. You just got even more heated, and you stepped forward. You were a few inches taller than her so you had superiority here… at least in height.

“We have been… we were fine! I thought we were good, Ellie. Why? Why are you back to treating me like this— Are you ashamed to admit to your fuckin’ friends that I’m now your friend too?”

Ellie recoiled as if you had just slapped her. “What? No! No, why would I—”

“Then why is it,” You started, stepping forward and towering over her. Ellie inhaled sharply and stepped back, almost tripping on the stuff all over her floor. “As soon as I’m cleared for patrol, and you’re around your friends again, you start treating me like shit again?”

“I didn’t mean for you to—” Ellie gasped and stumbled until the back of her legs hit the bed and she caught herself before she fell on her ass. “Did Joel not tell you?”

“Oh, he made it pretty fuckin’ clear, Williams,” You snapped, and your face was inches away from hers. It was like all those times before that you two had gotten into fist fights. Only this time… Ellie was actually backing down. She acted like she didn’t want this to happen; she didn’t want to fight you at all. “You better explain yourself. Or I swear, I will walk out of that door, and I will never, ever speak to you again.”

The silence was deafening. For the first time in a long time, Ellie was speechless. Her heart was racing, and she was panting as if she just ran a marathon. You scoffed, your lips twisting into a vicious snarl and your brows pulling down with aggression. “Fine. Fuck you then, Ellie.”

Your hand wrapped around the front handle of the door, and you were about to turn it when you felt a hand close around your wrist. You were mere seconds from punching her in the face, but you sure as shit couldn’t do that after what Ellie just did.

The redhead grabbed your wrist with one hand, shoved you by the chest with the other, and slammed her lips against your own. A loud inhale pulled from you at her sudden assertiveness, slamming your body into the door and digging her nails into the skin of your wrist. Well, this certainly was not what you were expecting, like at all…

Ellie acted desperate as she practically devoured you, her lips moving against your own with a feverish desire that you simply couldn’t wrap your head around in that moment. You were still in shock more than anything, but at least you weren’t mad anymore, right? No, just confused now.

A few seconds passed as Ellie reached up and curled both hands into the front of your shirt, and you put your own hands on her jaw, pulling her away from your lips with a wet SMACK! She felt like heaven on your lips, but you needed answers.

Of course, pushing Ellie off was a lot harder than you originally thought. As soon as you separated her, she would dive back in to steal another kiss and you felt your heart pounding in your chest all over again. Breathing her in with every fiber of your being, you mutter against her mouth, trying to get a word in edgewise but matching her kisses with equal ferocity.

“El…Ellie, W-what is—” You paused and gave her one very long kiss and broke it just to finish your sentence. “What’re you doing?”

“M’sick of it,” She whined, sliding one of her hands into your hair and the other slid down the front of your chest before gripping you by the side and pulling you flush against her torso. A gasp left your throat and Ellie took that opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. “So, fucking tired… tired of pretending like I don’t want you.”

The color that rose to your cheeks could be seen from space. You inhaled hard through your nose and wrapped both arms around her, like you might drift away from her if every single inch of your body wasn’t pressed against her own.

“God, El,” You cooed sweetly, enough to pull a whine from her throat as she dug her nails into your shoulders. “Didn’t know you were so hot for me—”

“Don’t fucking make me regret this,” She scowled, looking up at you with that familiar challenging look on her face that you found yourself adoring very quickly when it was under different circumstances. Well, if she wanted a challenge, when did you ever back down from the chance of putting Ms. Williams in her place?

The most mischievous smirk crossed your face, and she had no idea what was in store for her. You reached down and grabbed at her wrists with one hand, lifting them up and spinning so this time, it was her back pressing into the door. You pushed both hands over her head and held them there, keeping her hostage and looking down with the biggest grin possible.

Ellie was completely speechless, and her entire face went red with embarrassment. “W-What the fuck was that?”

You slowly slid your free hand up the length of her side, tugging up her shirt as you moved, nails gently raking across her pretty freckled skin. The way her body shuddered against yours was a sure way to make you groan as you leaned down and pressed your mouth against her neck. You inhaled her beautiful scent and pressed your lips down on her hot skin.

“God, you smell so good, El,” You purred as you kissed from the start of her shoulder up to the base of her jaw. Ellie’s hands flexed inside your own like she wanted to fight back. For a small moment, she managed to pull her hands forward, but you quickly slammed them back. It seemed like you had a lot of pent-up strength and energy to burn off from being bedridden for months.

“W-Wait, wait, wait,” Ellie begged, squirming against the door and making you look up for a second. Her desperate tone was what pulled you away and you slowly released her wrists, taking your hands back away from her body. Her body was trembling, and she looked like a frightened bunny in your presence. You suddenly felt like you went too far.

“Are you okay?” You slowly reached out and felt a slight wave of relief when she didn’t shy away from your touch. Both hands went to her face, and you stroked your thumbs across her jaw.

“Y-Yeah, I’m just…” Ellie breathed, putting a hand over her chest and inhaling through her nose like she couldn’t catch her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, Ellie, it’s okay,” You forced her to look back up in your eyes. Her pupils were dilated, and she looked terrified. “Hey, hey… look at me.”

Every time her eyes would try to look away, you would coax her into looking back up in your eyes, pressing a soft kiss against her nose and trying to calm her down as best you could. All you wanted was for Ellie to calm down… But like everything else that happened between you two, that was proving to be even more of a task than you thought it would.

You only relaxed when her breathing went back to normal. Very slowly, Ellie returned her gaze at you and gave you a haphazard smile. A breath of relief filled the air, and you pressed your forehead against hers. “There you are… if you want to stop, it’s okay—”

“Wait, no, no, no, wait!” Ellie grabbed your shirt and yanked you forward before you could back away. You stumbled on your feet and had to slam your arm into the door above her head, so you didn’t end up slamming directly against her. The noise that she made was enough to send you into fucking cardiac arrest. Her eyes were now focused on your strong arms, and she trailed her gaze up to the length of your neck and to your eyes. “��Fuck.”

Your heart sped up all over again and you looked like you wanted to eat her alive.

“Ellie,” You huffed out her name, and she responded by saying your name almost in a taunting manner. “Listen, we can… we can talk about this, and we can… You know, we don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for, it’s—”

You squeaked embarrassingly loud as she yanked you back down and slammed your lips against her own once again. She reacted to your kiss like it was a breath of air after being underwater. Like it was all she could need to stay calm and collected.

The way she squirmed against you was almost like she wanted more, but you were worried that she just wanted to stop but couldn’t voice it. “It’s okay, baby… I won’t hurt you; I promise—”

“Fuck,” Ellie bit down on your bottom lip and inhaled your entire being with desperate intent. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… I can’t take it anymore.”

You were planning to question what she meant when you felt her grab at your wrist and placed one of your hands around her neck. Almost instantly, you gently grabbed her throat and pushed her back against the door, using your other hand to block her head from smacking into the wood. She groaned as your grip tightened on her neck and it was like she didn’t have a dominant bone in her body.

The way Ellie just fully gave you the reins and relinquished control of herself… it was doing ridiculous things to you. Very slowly, you pulled your hand away from her throat and reached down, grabbing the underside of her thighs and yanking her away from the door.

Despite how obvious it was what you were planning, she still swore with surprise when you picked her up off the ground and wrapped both of her incredibly strong legs around her waist. It was no secret that you were stronger than her, but she was faster than you… It was one of the reasons you two were always at odds. Back when you were younger, Ellie would challenge you all the time. She always won in her mock race, and you always managed to beat her at arm wrestling… It may have been where your feud started.

And now, things were different; so different. Ellie used to hate that you could pick things up so easily and she was beyond jealous that girls fawned over you when they saw you working in the stable and not going on patrol. She thought she was jealous of you… But now she’s seeing that wasn’t the case. No, Ellie wanted you to pick her up and toss her around like she was a fucking bale of hay.

And that’s exactly what you did. You kept both hands on her thighs and took a few steps back before turning on your heel and dropping her down onto the bed underneath you. The sound she made was beyond gorgeous and you felt like you were gonna lose it.

“God, what the fuck are you doing to me?” Ellie whined, arching off the bed as you trailed your lips back down her neck. With one finger, you pulled down the collar of her shirt and without warning, latched your teeth down against her neck. She immediately grabbed your hair with both hands and yanked, hard, making you hiss in pain and pull back away from her skin. “Y-You’re pissin’ me off, you know that?”

All you could do was laugh and immediately pull yourself back. She struggled against you and tried to keep you on top of her, but you simply grabbed her wrists and held them over her head once again, towering over her and gently taking hold of her chin with your free hand. “I can go, y’know… Don’t even have to be here, baby. You’d have to fuck yourself—”

“That’s… Shit, that’s not…” Ellie fumbling on her words was the cutest thing you had ever seen. You smirked, like you always did whenever you won one of her stupid contests and dragged your fingertips across her neck and down over her chest. She looked so angry with you, and yet, she couldn’t stop from giving you the most adorable moan you’ve heard in your life.

Your hand stopped at the hem of her shirt, and you paused. “Can I take this off?”

“I’m gonna be pretty fucking upset if you don’t,” She snapped back, making you shudder with excitement. It was like you couldn’t take her clothes off fast enough. Her shirt was the first to go, and then her jeans followed, along with her sneakers. She yanked on your own shirt desperately, almost tearing the fabric with how aggressive she pulled, and you decided to take pity on her, stripping yourself out of your own clothes and grabbing her hips in order to pull her up higher on the bed so you could fully encompass her body.

You couldn’t help but stare at her, your strong hands grabbing at her leg and lifting her knee up so you could press down between her thighs. Feeling her bare skin against your own was like electricity in your bones and you had to remind yourself to breathe as you kissed all over the expanse of her chest just above her sports bra.

“St-stop fucking teasing me,” Ellie said, almost losing it.

“Ellie,” You broke off from her chest and grabbed at her sports bra before slowly pushing the fabric up around her chest and staring at the soft swell of her breasts. You had to press your thighs together and you were practically drooling over her. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Her face went even redder at your words, and you immediately bent down, your tongue sliding all over her skin and tracing between her breasts. She threaded her fingers in your hair as you grabbed the soft flesh and squeezed, nails digging into her skin and gently rubbing her nipples with the pads of your thumbs. The way she whined was adorably pathetic and you just wanted to hear even more.

You trailed your lips down her flat abdomen and gently pinched at her nipples, marveling at how her stomach sucked in when she gasped. It was like it was too much for her, and you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing her even more. “Baby… You gonna cum just from me playing with your tits?”

Ellie gasped and slammed her fists into the mattress, sitting up off the bed and looking down at you like she wanted to set you on fire. “I can… almost promise you,” Her voice was breathy and deep, and it made you even wetter. “If you don’t fuck me in the next five minutes, I will hurt you.”

“Promise?” You grinned and slipped your thumb into the elastic of her panties and slowly pulled them down her thighs, tossing the fabric away from you and onto the floor. You had wasted enough time already. And now all you wanted to do was give Ellie exactly what she wanted.

“J-Just… Just fucking fuck me— ohgod! ” Ellie choked on her breath the second she felt your fingers against her slick folds. Her legs opened up for you and she shuddered with each stroke of your fingers along her cunt and creating a map of her with your mind. You didn’t touch any place in particular, and you didn’t let your touch linger; you kept her on edge the entire time.

Every time you pressed your fingertips against her opening, she would bite her lip and grab the sheets with her hands, and then when you pulled away, she would start pouting. You did the exact same thing with her clit, pressing the pads of your index and middle finger on her sensitive bundle of nerves and gave a few little rubs before moving away. It was the most aggressive form of torture she had ever felt in her entire life.

“Stop! Fuck, fuck, stop it!” Ellie yanked your hair until your lips were away from her hip bone and looked down at the many love bites and hickies you left in your wake. She was practically fuming with desperation as she got on her knees and used your hair as leverage to push you down onto the bed as she climbed on top of you. “Fucking pain in the ass.” 

“Oh? What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You teased, biting your lip as she pushed your head into the pillows, slowly crawling up and making it so you couldn’t keep teasing her. You shut up pretty fast when she swung her leg over and her pussy was inches away from your face. She was absolutely soaking wet, and it was clear that this was a final ditch effort to force you to fuck her. 

“Maybe this way,” Ellie grabbed at the headboard behind you and spread her legs even more until she was centimeters from your mouth. “You’ll finally shut that pretty mouth of yours.” 

Ellie didn’t expect the dominance from you as you grabbed her ass with both hands and yanked her down onto your face. With a sharp intake of breath, Ellie whined and began to grind herself against your mouth as you began to lick at her slick cunt. You knew she was strong and in all honesty, could most likely sit on your face for hours without her legs getting tired. And it was why you were confident enough to hardly even hold her in place. 

“Fuck,” Ellie pushed her face into the wall and held still as you sucked on her slick folds and slid your tongue up until it was pressing on her clit. She squirmed a little at the pleasure and you immediately grabbed her hips with your strong hands, holding her still and licking at her clit fast enough for her to see stars. “ Fuck ! Oh fuck…” 

It was adorable; you were on the bottom but you were still in control of her. There was no autonomy left with her as she moaned and did her best to hide the way her body was reacting to your thick tongue. You were certain that you would leave bruises on her skin as you held her in place and practically destroyed her on your mouth. 

And while it was so nice that she was giving you enough room to breathe, a part of you wasn’t having as much as you wanted. You slid your hands up from her hips and grabbed her waist, yanking on her and growling with dominance. Ellie responded with a groan at the vibrations from your noise and looked down to meet your heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Shit, I… I don’t want to crush you–” 

You moaned against her folds and lifted her up for a second just so you could speak, and she was already upset that you stopped. “If you’re gonna sit on my face… you better fucking sit down. Don’t just hover; sit!” 

For a moment, Ellie was reminded of when you yelled at her to jump. She was right about that… So why not this? 

You let out a breathy snarl and decided to make the choice for her when you pulled her back down and immediately went back to eating her out. Your tongue lapped at her clit and you kneaded her strong ass with both hands as she leaned back and pushed her hand into your thigh in order to stay sitting upright. Ellie couldn’t keep quiet even if she tried, grinding down against your mouth and rubbing her juices all over your face. 

“Yeah, just like that…” Ellie moaned, her head falling back as she held you by the hair and slowly moved her other hand between your legs. It was like you knew because you immediately started spreading your legs and dug your heels into the mattress while she put her entire palm against your clothed pussy. The noise you made just seemed to make her even wetter. “N-Not gonna… let you have all the fun, Jesus christ your mouth feels so good…” 

You simply hummed with approval and arched up into her hand as you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked. She let out a tiny squeal at the sensation and immediately reached inside of your panties, pressing her fingers in between your own slick folds and rubbing at your clit without holding anything back. 

You couldn’t say anything; all you could do was moan into Ellie’s cunt as she played with your pussy, your eyes squeezing shut and your mouth collecting all of her wetness as best as you could. The mess you were making was beyond vulgar. Her juices dripped from her cunt and all over your face, creating a huge wet spot on her sheets behind your head. Your drool slicked her up even more and your tongue spread it around, the sounds reverberating off the walls and making her blush with just how loud you were when you feasted on her pussy. 

“God, fuck yes,” Ellie cried. “Ugh, you know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you princess?” 

The nickname had your eyes rolling and you responded with a soft smack to her ass. Ellie gasped and responded by sliding her hand down and pushing two fingers directly into your tight cunt, making you scream into her pussy. Even when you were eating her out, she had to make everything a fucking competition. 

With one final slurping sound, you lifted Ellie off your face and looked up, gently grinding up into her fingers as she slowly pumped them in and out of your wet cavern, soaking your panties and smirking, feeling like she finally got the upper hand. You chuckled and slid your hand from her ass and began to prod her opening with your own fingers. 

“Easy baby,” You cooed sweetly between your own whines of pleasure as she gently curled her fingers upward and stroked along your soft inner walls. Her hips were moving on their own, bucking against your hand as you leaned forward, kissing her hip and slowly pushing both fingers inside her slick cunt. “Fuck, slipped right in… Naughty girl–”

“Shut up,” Ellie scowled. “T-trying too hard to… ohhhhfuck…” 

With a simple twist of your wrist and your fingers bending inside of her, she finally stopped complaining. Her words died on her tongue as she kept still but pounded at your pussy with her long, strong fingers. “Look at yourself, baby… Oh, you love getting fucked, don’t you?” 

Ellie was too far gone to fight back and her hand began faltering on your cunt just trying to hold it together. You were the lucky one to get a front row seat of seeing her pussy spread apart on your digits and you began to push them in and out of her, listening to the slick sounds of her liquids squelching on your hand and how she was practically bouncing on your hand. 

“Yeah? Oh, you finally decided to shut the fuck up?” You taunted, and all Ellie could do was cry out. You pumped inside of her a bit faster. “Hmmm, that’s it baby… That’s it, good girl… Fucking love how your pretty pussy stretches on my fingers.” 

Ellie slowly released you and in that moment, you took the upper hand once again. In mere seconds, you were shoving Ellie down into the bed, slotting between her legs, and immediately pushing your fingers back inside of her without letting up. You pushed your knees into the mattress next to her, an arm going over her head as you were hovering away from her face. Your lips were so close to her own and she kept trying to meet them for a kiss but all you did was drag the tip of your tongue over her mouth and teased her while fucking her into the mattress.

“Alright, let’s see…” You breathed down and Ellie fisted her hands into the sheets, her moans spurring you forward as you twisted your fingers around inside of her cunt, stroking along her inner walls to see if you could make her go from soft moans to full on screams which you would need to silence anyway with how fucking thin the walls were in her shed. 

“Wha– What are you– AH! Fuck! ” 

“There it is,” You leaned down and pressed your lips on Ellie’s before you began a brutal pace, pumping your thick fingers into her pussy and hitting her sweet spot with every movement you made. Her screams were muffled by your mouth and you pressed your tongue down against hers, tracing the grooves in her teeth and hissing at her bite down on your bottom lip. “Hmm? That feel good baby?” 

Normally Ellie would snap, or she would have some clever retort or insult for you, but not this time. Ellie just groaned and nodded, eyes rolling back in her head and her inner walls clenching down on your fingers. It didn’t matter though, because you didn’t slow your speed. And when you twisted your wrist, Ellie arched off the bed and into your hand. 

From how bad she was squirming and wiggling around underneath you, and how her moans were growing in pitch, you could tell she was right on the edge, and you wanted nothing more than to push her over. 

“Come on baby,” You got closer and dragged your tongue across her neck and down to her shoulder where you gave a soft little bite into her skin. She squeaked, and it quickly blended into a wanton moan as you slammed your fingers up into her poor stretched out cavern. “Come on, cum for me. I know you want to.” 

“Fffffuck…” Ellie purred, biting down on her bottom lip and trying not to scream bloody murder as you slammed down into her. The beautiful way that her body was rolling into yours, and how she was holding you by the arms, so close to crescendo that she wanted to cry. Not to mention the way you were looking at her like she was about to be devoured like a fucking feast. 

“Go one, scream for me baby,” You leaned down and kissed over her neck, angling yourself so you could press your thumb against her clit and rub at the sensitive bud while thrusting your thick fingers into her. You ignored the cramp in your wrist and refused to let up. Ellie was so fucking close and you wanted to be the one who brought it out of her. “Scream for me. Let everybody in this fucking town know whose fucking you so good.” 

Her hips bucked up into your hand and you half-expected her to actually scream. But no, Ellie had a better idea in mind. Her inner walls squeezed your fingers and her moans grew with pitch before you felt her pulse around the digits, her head going back as she opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. 

You were worried she would actually shriek but Ellie fell forward and bit down on your neck, hissing through the pleasure as you fucked her through the orgasm of her life. Tears began streaking down her face as she whimpered into your flesh and ground her hips down into your touch. 

A bruise would almost certainly be left behind on your skin, but you didn’t care. You held her close and gave soft little kisses against your cheek as she had a moment of relief before she felt your fingers still moving and she immediately grabbed for your wrist to make you stop. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck, stop stop stop,” She pleaded, forcing your hand to still as she looked down at you, breathing hard and shaking with aftershocks of euphoria. Very carefully, you pulled your fingers out of her cunt and gave her clit a few more rubs before retracting completely and rubbing at her inner thighs. “Jesus fucking Christ…” 

“Mmm, no, that’s not my name baby,” You teased, kissing her jaw and falling down next to her. Ellie scoffed, but was still smiling when she smacked your arm. You giggled and rested your chin on her shoulder, kissing at her sweat covered skin. “Wanna tell me now?” 

Ellie huffed and looked over at you while wiping the tears away from her eyes. “T-Tell you what.” 

“Why you didn’t want me with you on patrol,” You sat up a little and she blushed at seeing you were still in your underwear compared to her. “I find it hard to believe that this is the reason. Unless you like me that much…” Her silence was not comforting and you continued to jeer her. 

“Am I to believe you didn’t want me there because you wanted to fuck me that bad?” 

“No, dumbass, that’s not–” Ellie put both hands over her face and she sighed. “I can’t get you hurt again…”

You slowly laid down next to her and took one of her hands away from her face. “I’m the reason you got hurt… It was my fucking fault, and I don’t want it to happen again.” 

Almost instantly, you were leaning up and pressing a kiss to her lips all over again. Ellie whined against your mouth and slid her fingers into your hair, gently scratching the base of your scalp and making you groan on her mouth. 

When you broke the kiss, you pushed those auburn bangs away from her forehead and stroked down the side of her face, touching her in the most gentle possible way to convey that you could be gentle sometimes and not always be a hard-ass like she said you were. 

“Ellie… If it meant that you were safe, I would risk my life ten times over just for you.” 

Your words resonated inside of her, shaking her to the core as she blushed and took one of your hands into her grasp and kissed the inside of your wrist. This time, it was your turn to blush as she looked up and gave one final kiss before releasing your hand. 

“Don’t die for me, princess.” 

“No,” You chuckled. “I’d rather live for you, baby.” 

[radiantrosaa]

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Hihi! I wanted to give you all a quick heads up about my writing. I know some of you are interested in seeing stories involving HandyMan!Bill but unfortunately, I won’t be writing about him. Since HandyMan!Bill is a character from an AU I didn’t create, I want to respect the original creator’s work and their intentions for the character. Especially because I am not sure how said creator would feel if I wrote stuff about their creation.

I wouldn’t want to unintentionally misrepresent HandyMan Bill or step on any creative toes. Out of respect for the creator, I’ll be sticking to my own original ideas or canon characters. Thank you so much for understanding.

For anyone curious, the content for Handyman!Bill is on @handymanbill

By the way, this applies to any au that doesn’t belong to me.

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That said, when it comes to AUs, I’ll be focusing on my own original ideas. I have an AU of my own featuring Bill Cipher that I’m thrilled to share with you, Split!Bill. Here’s a sneak peek:

Split!Bill follows Bill after a mysterious relocation to Gravity Falls, in human form and with no memory of his past except for his name. He’s taken in by Blubs and Durland, who become like father figures to him, but Bill’s journey is far from easy. He has DID (Dissociative Identity Disorder), which splits him into two sides: Light!Bill and Dark!Bill. Light!Bill is the curious, innocent version trying to uncover his origins, while Dark!Bill is the side that holds all of his memories, powers, trauma, and even self-hatred. Dark!Bill sabotages any progress Light!Bill makes, leaving him endlessly stuck, unable to uncover the truth.

Through Split!Bill, I’ll explore themes of self-discovery, identity, and inner struggle—plus, you’ll see some familiar faces from Gravity Falls as Bill’s story unfolds.

Thank you so much for your support and understanding, and I can’t wait to dive into this new AU with you! Let me know if you have any questions or thoughts; your feedback means the world to me.

Here is a reference of my Bill:

If anyone wants my socials for my art, here they are:

Instagram: rrosadrawss

X: rosadrawss

Bluesky: rosadraws.bsky.social

TikTok: rrosadrawss

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[hades--baby]

It Will Come Back || Chapter 2

Content Warning: Canon-typical violence, swearing, allusions to alcoholism

Note: Second chapter of the series! I have a lot of content written for this story already, just haven't made a posting schedule for it. I'll get around to posting on a regular schedule soon enough. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

(This work was also cross-posted on my ao3 account under the name hades_baby)

Word Count: 4628

previous part || next part

A knock on Frost’s door made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. 

She wasn’t expecting any company. 

She never was. 

After silently slipping into her bedroom and grabbing the compact Smith & Wesson that she kept safely stashed in the nightstand beside her bed, she headed to the front door. She stepped over the creaky spot in the hallway, making sure to stay completely silent as she stopped at the door and peeked through the curtains to see who was standing on the front porch. 

It was a pleasant surprise to see a certain Captain John Price waiting patiently with a tempting looking bottle of whiskey set in his hands. She sighed, clicked the safety on, and tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants before opening the door. 

“Price?” she greeted with a tinge of confusion in her voice as her eyes flicked around the porch to see if anyone else was with him. Silently, she had hoped that Kate had accompanied him, but from the look of it, he was alone on this mission. 

“You remember me,” he said, giving her a jolly smile. 

“Hard to forget a face that broke into my house in the middle of the night,” she jested dryly. 

“Well, technically speaking, Kate had a key and let herself in. I just happened to follow,” he said, pinching the neck of the bottle between his thumb and pointer finger as he held both of his hands up in faux surrender. She worried that the bottle of amber liquid would slip from his fingers and her porch would smell like liquor for the next week no matter how hard she tried to wash it out. 

“Same difference, John,” she said, rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. 

He hadn’t realized that they were on a first name basis.

He quite liked the way his name sounded rolling off her tongue.

It was addictive. 

Almost better than the taste of his best cigar. 

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, breaking him from the trance that her lips had put him in. 

“Just thought I’d stop by for a bit of a chat and drop this off,” he said, his smile remaining as he properly presented the bottle to her. She made it a note to not look at the bottle for too long before humming a quick acknowledgement and walking back inside, leaving the door wide open behind her. 

“Well, don’t let all the cold air in,” she called out as she disappeared into the kitchen.

Price made quick work of stepping inside and shutting the door, letting the warm air of the house encapsulate him. He promptly slipped his boots off and made sure to place them against the wall by the door, noticing how all of her shoes were lined up neatly with each other. He figured she wouldn’t want him dirtying the nice hardwood flooring of her cabin.

“Hungry?” she asked as he stepped into the kitchen. 

It was much warmer in the kitchen compared to the foyer, which he was ever-thankful for. The trek from his truck to her house had rendered his fingers freezing and he could feel little specs of snow hiding in his beard. He took a deep breath through his nose, taking in the hearty smell that was wafting from the pot on the stove.  

“Always,” he said as he set the bottle of whiskey on the counter and subtly rocked onto his toes in an attempt to take a gander at whatever was in the pot without looking overly curious. 

Whatever it was, it smelled absolutely amazing. 

Frost had glanced at the bottle of whiskey again as the glass clinked against the counter. She barely paid it any mind before focusing back on the food. Price was almost a little dejected. He had picked out a nice bottle, something he figured that any person who had gone through the fits of war would appreciate. He went on to assume that perhaps whiskey just wasn’t her liquor of choice. 

“Fancy a bowl of stew?” she asked. 

“Only if you’re offering,” he said, nodding his head with a polite smile. 

She grabbed two bowls and started serving them up. He watched as a sense of domesticity took over her persona. He wouldn’t mind coming home to something sweet like this. A gorgeous woman wrapped in pure comfort, doing whatever it was she loved to do throughout her day, and greeting him at the door with an amazing meal ready for the both of them to share when he would come home from work. 

Frost then casually pulled a pistol from her waistband and set it on the counter beside the stove. 

And that was just about enough to yank Price from the domestic daydream he had set himself in. 

She turned around with a bowl in each hand while the gun stayed stagnant on the counter. He wondered if she always walked around her own home with a firearm on her person even when she was alone. 

“Care if we eat in the living room? I’m not really feeling the whole wooden chair thing as of right now. Joints are feeling a little achy today,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of the small dining table that was set against the wall of the kitchen. 

In reality, her joints were always feeling achy nowadays. Her knees and hips had been killing her all day and she didn’t have the means to fix the pain. The cold weather really never did her body any good thanks to the wear and tear of all her years in the military, but she loved the freezing temperatures nonetheless. 

“It’s your home, ma’am. We do as you wish,” he said. 

She huffed out a breathy scoff of a laugh and handed him his bowl of food. 

Being called “ma’am” felt so odd to her now.

She glanced at the bottle of whiskey on the counter one last time before making her way into the living room.  

It had been a long time since a bottle had graced her home. 

It was a sight that she wasn’t quite accustomed to anymore. 

She tried not to let it bother her too much. 

John followed her into the living room where she took a seat in the same dark green armchair as last time and he did the same, sitting right across from her with the fireplace set between them. The fire was already crackling, fed well, and stoked gently.

“I hope the stew’s alright. I haven’t cooked anything for anyone other than myself in a long while. Meat should be tender saying it’s been sitting on the stove all morning,” she said before taking her first bite. Price did the same and nearly melted into his seat. A content hum escaped him.  

“Trust me, it’s more than alright,” he said, taking another hefty bite.

They ate in silence for a bit, the two of them making it halfway through their bowls before Frost decided to speak. 

“What’re you doing here, John?” she asked, not looking up from her bowl as she broke the metaphorical ice. 

“I told you at the door. Just thought I’d stop by for a little chat. I was in the area,” he said, giving her the same jolly smile that he had greeted her with at the door. 

He knew that his reasoning was weak and that it would never fly with her, but he didn’t exactly know how to word his reasoning without being overtly forward. He was almost afraid of saying the wrong thing, which was new to him. He hadn’t become a Captain by being soft spoken or by coddling the people around him, yet here he was, his words attempting to be slow and soft in hopes of putting her at ease. 

“It takes an hour to get here from the nearest town. I doubt that you were in the area ,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

She liked to do that a lot, he noticed. Roll her eyes with some sort of quick quip. Usually something like that would annoy him to all wits end, but it seemed justifiable every time she did it. 

“Fine. I just wanted to talk to you,” he admitted. 

He had hoped to warm up to her a little more, but he should have known better. 

“About?” 

“What do you think?” 

Frost was aware of why he was there. It had only been two days since he and Laswell had first popped in, so she was sure that they were still awaiting a phone call from her, but she hadn’t cared to even look at her phone. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what you’re here to talk about,” she said. 

John huffed. 

“Laswell thinks you’d be a good addition to my task force,” he said, finally using his words to explain the true meaning of his visit. “Actually, she swears that you’d be a good addition.”

Frost didn’t say anything. 

“You know, I quite like the way that my team is as of right now, but if Kate thinks that you’re worth the trouble, then I’m inclined to reconsider,” he continued.

Price knew his boys and he knew them well. If they were going to be taking on something as important as Makarov, he wanted to be working as a tight-knit group that already had a sense of trust established with each other. Bringing in a new face at this stage would be… unideal in his eyes, but he knew Laswell typically had their best interest in mind, so if she said that Frost was someone worth having on their side of the fight, then he believed it. 

“Now, what really bothered me the other night was how quickly you said no and how easily Kate accepted your answer. She would’ve haggled anyone else to get them to get them onboard, but she just let it go when it came to you. Why is that?” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as his eyes narrowed. He kept the warm bowl of food in his hands, moving around the few pieces of meat and potatoes that remained. 

“It’s because she knows how I work,” she answered easily. John didn’t say anything, waiting for her to continue. She figured that meant that her answer wasn’t good enough. “Look, when it comes to a military based operation, I’m willing to adapt to get the results that I want. But when it comes to personal matters, I know what is and isn’t right for me.”

“And what makes you so sure about what you think is right?” he probed. 

“I’ve made enough decisions in my life where second guessing what I thought was right got people killed. I’m not trying to repeat history as much as it already likes to repeat itself,” she said, shaking her head. 

John hummed and slowly sat back in his seat. 

“I did some research on you, you know,” he said, trying to clear the air of awkwardness. 

“Did you now?” she said, taking another spoonful of stew. “Find anything fun?” 

“Lieutenant Colonel Mira “Frost” Grant—”

“Pretty sure it was Laswell who told you my name, not my file,” she cut in smartly. 

“—went into the military straight out of school. Climbed the ranks until she decided to join the Parachute Regiment. Got into the SAS a little after that. Led her own task force for a long while until… She disbanded the task force for unknown reasons. Retired not long after,” he listed out from memory. He wasn’t going to let her know just yet that he knew about her deceased team. He wasn’t sure if it was common knowledge and he didn’t want to accidentally out Laswell for telling him anything. 

“Is that what my file says?” she asked rhetorically, sounding bored by the life story he had just recited. Frost had practically memorized the personal file report that Laswell had typed out for the public military database. The file that held all the true unredacted information was locked away somewhere in a cabinet in Laswell’s office. “Sounds boring.”

“Maybe to you.” 

They kept eating. 

“Want seconds?” she asked. 

“Only if you’re offering,” he said. 

He hadn’t had a home cooked meal in ages. 

At least, not one this good. 

He almost felt selfish saying yes to seconds. 

She stood and took his empty bowl, making her way back into the kitchen. He stayed seated in his chair, unsure if he should follow her. Instead, he took the time to look around her living room. 

Just above the fireplace were a few framed photos. One was of a happy looking german shepherd, staring right at the camera. The one beside it was a group photo. Frost was placed right in the middle, a bright smile shining on her face with a small task force of nine surrounding her. The woman in the photo looked so different from the woman currently standing in the kitchen. Well, they physically looked the same, but there was a certain charm in her eye that she didn’t care to hold anymore. And the last one was of her, Laswell, and Laswell’s wife. They looked younger, but still hardened. Frost and Laswell had cigarettes and smiles on their lips while Kate’s wife looked happy but a little disgruntled with the smoke wisping in the air. 

He wondered how such a smile seemed to become so foreign to her. 

Then again, he knew what war did to people. 

“Here you go.”

Frost was standing beside him, holding his bowl out to him. He took it and muttered a polite thanks, watching her settling back in her seat with a small second portion in her own bowl. 

He felt less guilty knowing that she had snagged seconds as well. 

“So did you come around just to recite my own file to me, or were you planning on trying something else to win me over?” she asked, looking up at him. 

The way she was curled up in her arm chair did something to John’s heart. Her legs were tucked in front of her, bowl resting against her hand and knee, body leaning against the plush arm rest. 

“I realized that I’ve actually heard a lot about you, Frost,” he said, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles. Frost perked a curious brow. “The SAS folks never properly put a name to you, but they used to tell stories to pass the time.”

“Anything good?”

“A lot of good,” he said before taking another bite. Christ, her cooking might have been enough to make him retire. “Almost too much good, actually. Half the operatives started to believe that you were just some sort of field folktale.”

“There’s lots of bad in that file too, if you cared to look hard enough,” she muttered, looking away from his kind face. “Plus all of those stories were either from my prime or were shot out of proportion. I’d bet on the latter for most of them.”

Frost had always found herself falling uncomfortable when people started to speak highly of her. The tall tales that were told at bases around the world had always left far too much room for people to set unreasonable expectations. Expectations she might not be able to meet, especially at this age. She’d be the first to admit that she was damn good at her job, but she would also be the first to admit that she wasn’t in her prime anymore and she had just as many failures in the bag to match her successes. 

“Tea?” she asked, hoping to change the subject. 

She was deflecting. 

He wouldn’t let her do that. 

“Only if you let me make it,” he said, trying to offer his services so she couldn’t escape his line of reasoning. She stared him down for a few moments before conceding with a nod. “I’ll put the kettle on then.”

He stood from his seat, finishing off the last bites of his stew as he made his way into the kitchen. He placed the bowl in the sink, having every intention to watch it once he put the kettle on. He filled the metal contraption with water and set it on the stove, leaving it alone to come to a boil. He peeked his head back into the living room for a moment. 

“Are you done with that?” he asked, looking down at the bowl in her hand. She hummed in confirmation, letting her legs down from their tucked position to get up, but he made it across her living room in a few strides and gently took the bowl from her grasp. She muttered a quiet thanks, watching as he disappeared back into the kitchen. She stared at the empty doorway, head ticking in surprise when she heard the water from the sink running. 

Was he washing the dishes?

He was quick about it, cleaning the dishes to perfection before stepping back into the living room. She assumed that he’d take his seat as they waited for the kettle to be ready, but he didn’t. Instead, he slowly stepped over to the fireplace, eyes settling on the few framed pictures. 

Frost fidgeted. 

John noticed. 

“Your file didn’t mention everything, so I had to do a little digging myself. Even then, I didn’t find much. Laswell did a good job at redacting the important shit,” he said as he picked up the picture of her and her task force. 

Frost watched him with a hardened stare. Her eyes dug into him, practically staring daggers into his head. He knew that he was treading into dangerous waters, but he wanted to see how far he could push before she gave in. 

“I’m sorry about what Makarov did to you and your team.”

She didn’t say anything. 

“Knew some of them myself. You had good people under your command,” he continued, nodding his head as his eyes fell over each person in the photo. Regardless of how many times his eyes trailed away, they seemed to always come back to her standing right in the middle of the group. He didn’t know why, but that bright smile was something he hoped to witness with his own eyes one day. 

The kettle started to whistle. 

Price set the frame down gently, taking a quick look at her before heading back into the kitchen.

Frost quietly stood from her seat, stepping over to the fireplace where John had been standing moments before. The heat from the fire burned her legs as she stared at the photo of her old task force. Her old family. She never really took the time to look at the photo all that much anymore. It always brought back the memories she wished she could forget. The memories that haunted her mind every time she shut her eyes in hopes of getting some semblance of sleep. 

Mugs clinked in the kitchen and she could only assume that he remembered where they were held from when he had first come around with Laswell. Kate knew where everything was in the house. She wondered if Price would soon know too. 

He returned with two cuppas, passing one off to her. 

“Who’s that?” he asked, pointing at the photo of the dog before taking a sip. Frost smiled softly, something that Price had learned to be a rare sight. 

“Want to meet him?” she asked, looking over to him with a caring look in her eyes. The soft glint of a smile was enough to make Price say yes to absolutely anything she might have to say. 

“I’d love to,” he said, nodding his head. 

She walked into the kitchen and to the back door, cradling the cup of tea to her chest as she opened the door and looked out the back porch. She whistled loudly, eyes searching the big forest. 

“Riley!” she called out. “Come here, boy!”

“Riley?” he questioned, looking down at her as she kept looking for her furry companion in the trees. 

Simon was either going to absolutely love that or it might be enough to make him despise her. 

He hoped for the former. 

A big german shepherd came dashing toward her in seconds. He hopped up the porch and ran around her legs, weaving in between before finally stopping right beneath her. 

“This is Riley. I’ve had him for a good while. Got me through a lot of missions back in the day,” she said, rubbing his head a few times before looking back up at Price. Riley was a kind dog, but he never did well with strangers. She wondered how he’d act with Price being a new presence.

John slowly lowered himself to a crouch, coming face to face with the stoic german shepherd that had been staring him down. He waited, not making any move to rile the pup up. He knew that it was always best to let a beast come to you first if you intended to tame it. Riley growled a little before whining and stepping politely into John’s space. The dog sniffed him a bit before licking the side of his face and wagging his tail. Frost perked a brow while John gave Riley a good rub and pat, gently playing with the war-trained dog. 

Frost had never seen Riley warm up so quickly to someone. 

Well, other than Kate and her wife. 

After a good minute or so, Riley grew bored of the attention and weaved through Frost’s legs before dashing back into the forest. 

“Not too far!” she shouted after the riled dog, watching as he disappeared into the trees. “Damn thing always worries me that he’s not going to come back one of these days. It is a wild forest and all.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Price said, standing back up to his full height as he thought about the things Riley could have possibly seen out in the field. The forest was nothing compared to the acts of warfare. He was sure the little beast would be fine nonetheless. 

Frost silently took note of how tall he truly was now that she was standing beside him. She hadn’t noticed it properly before, but he was quite a bit taller than her. His head almost skimmed the top of the doorframe and his broad shoulders took up the space of the door with ease. He was a burly man, but in all the right ways. She could tell that he was solid, but there were still softer parts of him. 

The military had shaped him well and she didn’t mind letting her mind wander for a moment. 

“Best get back inside. Fireplace can’t heat the entire forest on its own,” she said, ushering him back inside and closing the door behind them. She glanced out the window of the door, catching one last glance of Riley chasing a rabbit before heading back into the living room with Price following close behind. “How’d you meet Laswell?”

“Football game,” he answered. “And you?” 

“Pub. Long time ago when we were much younger,” she answered in return. 

They looked at the last photo on the top of the fireplace. The one of the three young women laughing and smiling about something Frost had long forgotten. 

Price’s heart felt warm by the sight of her unabashed grin in the photo. 

He found himself absolutely allured by her smile. 

“You know, I don’t mean to sound like a broken record, Mira, but I think I agree with Laswell on this one. You should come along to catch Makarov with me and my team. I think it would do you some good and I think it would do my team so good,” he said, looking away from the photo to look at her. 

It had taken her aback, hearing him use her actual name.

She had become so accustomed to being called by her callsign all the time that she had forgotten that people could actually call her by her name. 

She liked how it sounded on his lips and she wouldn’t mind hearing it again. 

Price glanced back at the group photo of her and her old task force. 

“Think it would do them some good too.”

Frost wanted to bite back and snap that he didn’t know what they’d want, but she secretly knew that he was right. If any of her team were still standing, they’d be jumping at the opportunity to take that Russian son of a bitch out. 

“Just give it some thought,” he said, looking back to her with a kind smile. “Thank you for the stew and for the tea. It’ll keep me warm on my way back to base.” 

“You could take some with you, if you’d like. I made a lot and Riley doesn’t much appreciate my cooking unless it’s a steak,” she said, ticking her head in the direction of the kitchen. 

“I appreciate that, but it’s alright,” he said, shaking his head with a polite smile. He held his hand out to her. “Gives me an excuse to come back and have another meal with you. And maybe a glass of that whiskey I brought by.”

Frost tried not to react, but she couldn’t help but feel a little heat rise in her cheeks. 

“Thanks for stopping by,” she said, taking his hand in hers. They both held each other’s hands in a comfortable firm squeeze before slowly letting go.

Something inside Frost didn’t want him to leave. 

Price could admit that he didn’t really want to leave either. 

But he had to. 

He slipped his boots on, opened the door, and took one last polite glance at her before nodding his head in farewell and shutting the door.  

The house was quiet again, nothing but the crackling fire to keep Frost company. She stared at the closed door for a long while, standing there in complete stillness, burning flames kissing her skin. Her gaze slowly made its way back to the group photo of her task force and something tugged aggressively at her heartstrings. Her eyes glazed over each and every one of their faces. Tears threatened to slip down her face, but they never did. 

Loud whining soon sounded out near the back door. 

“I’m comin’, Riley. I’m comin’,” she called out, taking one last glance before rushing to the back door to let her only companion inside.

It was late. 

Really fucking late. 

Too late for John’s phone to be ringing this many times in a row. 

He rolled onto his stomach, groggily grabbed his phone from the nightstand beside his bed, and fiddled with it as the bright screen blinded him. He pressed the green button in the bottom right corner of his phone and put it to his ear. 

“Hello?” he said, voice deeper and rougher thanks to the laced effects of sleep. 

“What did you do?”

“Kate? Do you know how late it is?” he said, propping himself on his elbows. 

“What did you do?” she repeated, enunciating each word with enough vigor to make him perk up and pay attention a little more.

“What are you going on about?” he asked, furrowing his brows. It was too late for him to be dealing with this shit. He could barely keep his eyes open. 

“Frost gave me a call. Said that she changed her mind and that she was in,” Kate said. While she didn’t necessarily sound mad, there was a bite in her tone that made John a little nervous. “And I know you had something to do with it.”

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Ritual of the Rose - Ch2

Agatha crossed her arms, but Rio could see her evaluating, calculating, deciding how she was going to get herself out of this one. She softened, ran her fingers through her hair in a way that, despite herself, caught Rio's attention, made her press her teeth into her bottom lip. "Come on," Agatha said, eyes downcast, pouting ever-so-slightly. "You don't really want to hurt me, do you?"

Fic Summary: Changes the events of the last episode. Instead, Agatha swears a vow and prepares to go on one final adventure with Death.

Part 1 here

I feel like I should say at this point that I know next to nothing about the mcu, so this fic will be taking only the events of Wandavision and Agatha All Along as canon and then just making things up.

Chapter 2 - Rio Bites

Death returned. She did not come on black wings or holding a scythe. She was neither robed nor skeletal. Between one breath and the next, she was simply there.

"Hi, baby," she said, sprawling in Agatha's yard, looking around with interest. "You know, I kind of like it? It's a little overgrown, little wild, clearly tended by someone who has no idea what they're doing, but that makes it feel so much more authentic. Like a real person lived here, though of course, that hasn't really been true for a while, has it, Detective?”

Agatha gave her a deeply unamused look, and she laughed, too sharp, too loud, not even particularly amused, and then twisted her head around at a wholly unnatural angle to meet Agatha's eyes with hers. "So what's the plan, Agatha? Where's the catch?" She reached out, started to prod Agatha's cheek and the other woman came to standing before she could make contact.

"No catch," Agatha said, not looking at her and that was so funny that all she could do was snicker.

"There's always a catch," she said, as she watched Agatha. She never stopped watching Agatha, except for a very unpleasant time when Agatha had used the Darkhold to hide from her. She had still looked, of course, looked and looked and looked. She would never give up on Agatha.

And eventually she had found her, in trouble as always, and freed her. Did she get any thanks for that?

Of course not. Agatha Harkness didn't know how to say thank you. It simply wasn't in her vocabulary. "Out of curiosity, how are you planning to wriggle your way out of this one?" Rio asked, coming to her feet without bothering with knees. She’d never quite gotten the hang of knees.

Agatha glanced back at her, head tilted slightly, a smile tugging at her lips like it wasn't sure whether it wanted to stay. "If you're so sure I'm going to wriggle out of it, why'd you agree?"

Rio closed the distance between them in less than a breath, her hand cupping Agatha's cheek. "Because I love you," she reminded the other woman. And then, because she did love Agatha, but there was only so much anyone could take, cruelty spanning centuries, she added, "I love you enough to gift you time."

The blast of purple magic that hit her in the chest was honestly nostalgic, and she skidded backwards without ever quite making contact with the ground. "I do like you more like this," she admitted. "I've missed your powers. It makes you feisty. So what did you tell the kid?"

"Oh you know," Agatha said, waving her hand through the air with lazy, dismissive contempt. "Sentimental stuff. Be good, don't do anything I wouldn't do, that sort of thing."

"Wow. That is not even a good lie. You aren't even trying," Rio said and she's surprised to find that she's a little annoyed about that, too, that Agatha didn’t feel the need to put in any effort in her lies.

"Why should I? You wouldn’t believe me regardless,” Agatha said, turning and strolling into the house. "Anyway, forget the kid. We've got a year to find and defeat one of the most powerful magic users alive so I can get my book back."

Rio followed, as she had for many years, Death always one step behind Agatha Harkness. "And then what? You run again?"

"The ritual doesn't work like that and you know it. It will kill me even if you can't. And then I'm all yours," Agatha said.

That was how it should work, on paper, in magical theory. There was no way Rio was trusting that. Agatha always lied. "So where's the catch?" she repeated, perching on the arm of Agatha's couch.

"Believe me or don't, but you agreed to it and your part is null and void if you don't help," Agatha snapped. "So can we get on with it, please?"

For a moment, nostalgia threatened to choke Rio. This was Agatha as she remembered her, impatient, demanding, moving from one objective to the other, always seeking power, always hungry for more. She found herself caught by it, leaning forward, and remembering one more of Agatha's endless series of manipulations, Agatha's bleeding fingers across her lip. "When I left you with the boy…"

"Hmm?" Agatha said, pretending innocence. Rio stared her down and she held up her fingers, trying and failing to look even slightly regretful. "Oh, the bleeding stopped. What a shame."

Rio's knife was instantly in her hand. "I could fix that."

Agatha's fingers crackled with power. "Try it," she crooned. "I'm not so vulnerable anymore."

Rio slipped to her feet, sauntered forward. "Do you really want to do this, Ags? Without the Darkhold, you know you can't beat me. We can play it out though, if you like. I owe you, after all. Maybe one cut for each year you disappeared on me?" She spun the knife in her hand, comfortable, familiar. She very much did want to hurt Agatha, to seek weregild in blood for all the suffering her beloved had inflicted on her over the centuries.

Agatha crossed her arms, but Rio could see her evaluating, calculating, deciding how she was going to get herself out of this one. She softened, ran her fingers through her hair in a way that, despite herself, caught Rio's attention, made her press her teeth into her bottom lip. "Come on," Agatha said, eyes downcast, pouting ever-so-slightly. "You don't really want to hurt me, do you?"

"No, Ags, I don't really want to hurt you. What I really want, you won't give me. Hurting you isn't a terrible consolation prize, though."

Agatha huffed, her arms going tighter around herself. She was afraid, a coward as always. She'd never liked anything that could touch her, get past her defenses.

And, more simply, she didn’t like pain.

Well, neither did Rio, but that hadn't stopped Agatha from wounding and scarring her for centuries.

"Can we maybe talk about it?" Agatha suggested, always her way out. Agatha's battlefield was words, endless words, all of them lies.

"What else is there to say, hmm? What different, exciting new ways of saying you hate me have you come up with this time?" she'd stopped in front of Agatha, and she could feel herself smiling, a big grin she noticed Agatha didn't seem to want to look at for too long.

Agatha hesitated, shrugged, then stepped forward, reached out and here was Agatha's most potent weapon, the way her fingers brushed through Rio's hair and her hand closed on the back of Rio's neck, tugging her closer. And of course, Rio could have used the knife here, with so little space between them, but Agatha's other arm had looped around her waist and she was so close, so alive, so warm, so much herself, that instead of stabbing the other woman, the sensible, sane decision, she found that she was nuzzling against Agatha's neck, trying to bury herself in this sensation before it went away again.

Agatha tilted her head back, moaned softly and that sound undid Death entirely, a soft whimper escaping from between teeth she seemed to be clenching. Agatha petted her soothingly—

And then yelped as Rio's teeth bit and twisted hard enough to draw blood. Rio ran her tongue over the wound, gathered her beloved's lifeblood, the familiar, intimate taste of Agatha in her mouth, copper and magic and relentless will, then pulled back to smile humorlessly up at Agatha. "There," she said. "Price paid."

Agatha glowered at her, hand clapped to her neck even though the wound had already healed. "Savage," she murmured and Rio burst into shrill hysterics.

"You. Should. Talk," she said, sprawling on Agatha's couch, tossing her knife from hand to hand. "So. The book."

Agatha nodded, pulling up a kitchen chair with magic, perhaps to remind herself that she could. "Wanda has it."

"The Scarlet Witch. Destroyer of worlds," Rio murmured. "So where is she?"

"I was hoping you would know," Agatha admitted.

"She's not actively destroying any worlds, I'm afraid. I don't keep track of most mortals, they generally come to me." She gave Agatha a smile. "Mostly just you."

Agatha faked gagging and that, too, was painfully familiar. "All right, so first step is we find her."

"Didn't she kick your ass last time?"

"Yes, but I didn't have Death on my side," Agatha said, favoring Rio with a smile of her own, a smile that hinted at a promise Rio knew she would never fulfill. "Still, even for both of us, she's going to be a lot to handle, especially with the Darkhold."

"So where's the kid figure in, Ags?"

Agatha didn't flinch, but it was there, a tightening of her jaw, a tug at the edge of her lips. "Insurance. If everything else fails, we can always trade the boy."

"Very you," Rio approved. "But you let him go. Why?"

Agatha considered, then got up and paced over to sit next to Rio. Rio felt herself go overly still, less certain how to handle Agatha in such close proximity, even more so as Agatha's hand settled on her knee, intimate and nostalgic. "Because, Rio, my darling, if you need someone to trust you at a critical juncture in the future, sometimes you have to pretend that you’re on their side."

Rio rolled her eyes, but it was a weak response, all of her attention fixed on that hand and that word, darling, rolling off Agatha’s lying tongue. She knew exactly what Agatha was doing. It still worked every time. "Nothing to do with the fact that you're attached?"

Agatha snorted loudly. "Me? To that boy? No. He's useful, though. The son of the Scarlet Witch."

"Still an abomination," Rio said, and thought, I bet you want me to forget that. I bet you want me to forget that there's another one. I haven't.

But I don't need to play my whole hand at once either.

"Sure, sure, but can we deal with what's more important here first?"

"Your plan?"

"That's right. My plan," Agatha said as she leaned too close, her smile wicked and crazed and so, so beautiful. Self-centered as always, Rio thought, unable to suppress the wave of affection that accompanied that thought.

With Agatha so close. Rio couldn't resist, she darted in to steal a kiss, then howled with humorless laughter as Agatha jerked away, her expression that of someone who'd turned the corner and made eye contact with a dead mouse. "You, you, you," Rio singsonged. "Who else would Agatha Harkness think of, other than herself?" She tossed her knife up, caught it too close to Agatha's face and wasn't sure whether to be happy or sad when it made the other woman scoot back, putting more space between them. "But you know, there isn't only one Darkhold."

"Of course I know that," Agatha said. "But the others are lost to—" she paused, realized where this must be going. "…Rio, you wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

"Not about this," Rio said, amused at the implication she'd ever been the one who lied. "I agreed to help, didn't I? Aid given freely."

"…You never mentioned this before."

"I didn't know when we were together. After that, I had a vested interest in not giving you powerful artifacts filled with dark magic. …Also, it is rumored to drive people mad."

"Weak people," Agatha said instantly. "Sheep. Do I look mad to you?"

Rio didn't try to stop herself from laughing. "Nooo comment."

Agatha fixed her with a long-suffering look. "Yes, yes, you're very funny."

"You know you love it," she said and Agatha did the fake-gagging thing again, which only made her giggle. "You already used that one twice," she pointed out and Agatha—

It wasn't fair of Agatha to smile like she meant it, a reluctant tug of her lips into a very pretty shape. "Oooops. I'll have to vary it up. Wouldn't want you to get bored with my disgusted reactions."

For a moment, their eyes met and no time had passed at all.

I love you, Agatha Harkness, Rio thought. And I know you still love me.

Then Agatha's lip curled in a sneer and she looked away, settling with her head on her hand on the far end of the couch. "Another copy of the Darkhold? Really?"

"Really. If you don't want to tangle with the Scarlet Witch."

"I'm not scared, you know," Agatha clarified, suspiciously like someone who was scared. "But she's not going to be easy. So, if there's an easier way—"

"Of course. You're the bravest person I know," Rio said, sprawling across the couch toward Agatha, fully expecting Agatha to run, because Agatha always ran.

Then, somehow, her head was in Agatha's lap.

She stared up and Agatha glanced down, gave her a twisted grin and a shrug, then looked away again, still brooding. "Tell me about it. The other one."

Right. Words. Rio knew how to do words. "The usual. Cursed cave in a treacherous mountain protected by ancient guardian spirits from some long-dead order."

Agatha's glance at her this time was brimming with disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me," she said. "Come on, really?"

Rio shrugged. "I don't make the rules."

"Seems too easy."

"How'd you get it the first time?" she asked and was surprised when Agatha went too still. There was a story here, one she didn't know.

From the way the other woman’s pulse flicked in her throat, one Agatha didn't want to discuss. More and more interesting.

"Something very similar," Agatha said, a little too fast. "Ancient crypt, all these terrible magic traps…"

"Riiiight," Rio said, doubtful, but not inclined to push yet, because—

Well, because her head was in Agatha's lap.

"Anyway, doesn't matter now. You're sure it's there?"

"No," Rio admitted. "But several people told me it was, after they died trying to reach it. …This will be dangerous, you know."

Agatha's fingers carded through her hair and she couldn't stop herself from exhaling, eyes falling shut. "You'll help keep me safe, won't you?"

Manipulative monster, Rio thought, with something akin to pride. "Mm, I have to. But I can't say I'll be devastated if anything happens to you." Her eyes flicked open and she smiled humorlessly. "After all, I get my prize either way."

Agatha stared down at her, then tugged her hand out of Rio's hair and wiped it perfunctorily on the side of the couch before standing up, spilling Rio off her.

"Oooh, touchy," Rio said, giggling from her new spot on the floor.

“You wish,” Agatha snapped. “Fine, we have a year. We’ll try it your way first.”

“Our last big adventure.”

Agatha gave her a crooked, vicious smile that would have made anyone doubt the other woman’s sanity. “Don’t say it like that,” she said, pretending to sulk, but the tone too obviously mocking. “You might get what you want yet.”

Rio came to her feet, too close. “What I want, Agatha, is you dead.” Almost as much as she wanted Agatha's fingers back in her hair.

“And what happens after that?” Agatha asked, a question she'd asked a hundred times.

Rio answered the same way she'd always answered. "Come and see."

"Not yet," Agatha said, dismissive. "I'm not done yet. Now, tell me where this cave is."

If you'd like to read more stuff I've written for Agatha All Along, I'm just going to link to the tag on my blog, there's a bunch at this point.

[blueskyheadleft010]

Listen, I don’t go to the BNHA canon lore or whatever; but like, I think the way AFO supposedly died by ‘rewinding’ himself into nothing is stupid and I firmly believe he did not in fact, do this.

He is centuries old. He’s planned his revenges out like a 4D chess player, and anything less than this would’ve resulted in Nedzu figuring out how to checkmate AFO ten ways to Sunday the moment he even breathed near him.

He’s got thousands of quirks at his disposal, including teleportation, mind reading, and possibly illusion quirks. So you tell me; even if he felt like he’d been cornered like a feral animal, that he wouldn’t have back up plans?? Like there’s no way in hell the devil himself would decide to just go ‘fuck it, let me take this untested drug to kill my worst enemy because my pride is too big to accept anything less.’ Like wtf? The man might be missing part of his brain or something, but he clearly has ways to heal himself and he’s been playing the long game way before anyone alive today was even born, so why can’t his appearance just be a fucking illusion?

Who’s to say he doesn’t have a cloning quirk? How do we even know if the heroes really killed the fucker if he rewound himself into nothing? He could’ve just been faking all of this. He could’ve put everyone into a trance or dreamlike state and convinced them this happened.

“But op,” you say, “One for All declared him dead so he’s dead for sure!” You exclaim.

My pal, if All Might believed AFO was dead after he punched his head off, and he clearly came back, then One For All is fucking dumb. If he was believed to be dead then, the quirk should’ve left All Might. If it didn’t think it was dead then All Might should’ve known something was up if the quirk didn’t leave his body after the fight and they should’ve kept looking. Either the quirk is a fucking liar, it didn’t want AFO to die, or it just got tired of existing and gtfo of reality and the end of the story. It’s paradoxical in nature and makes no sense.

In conclusion, AFO took one look at how fucked the League of Villains was and decided to scrap Revenge Plan #468 and go into hiding. A good villain will convince the heroes there is nothing to be concerned about and that everything is going according to plan.

Hiding is AFO’s specialty. Of course he’s not gonna ‘die’ by having a building collapse on him or something mundane. No one would believe it. So of course he’s got to go out with a bang and mentally scar everyone along the way.

Just you wait, that fucker’s in hiding once more. He can’t be killed at this point. Frankly it’s embarrassing to even try, and considering the amount of stock power One For All has accumulated, it’s only a matter of time before a successor dies from using it and he’ll just prance in and pluck the corpse and stuff it like a perverse mannequin in his bedroom while he retires as king of the Earth. Truly, you fell for the oldest trick in the book. You just lost the game.

[fumifooms]

What if we were both magic prodigies and it otherized us in different ways and we devoted ourselves to protecting a family member who has general other goals & priorities. What if we both did self-sacrifical devotion in opposite ways.

What if we were dark mirrors of each other and where I've grown overcontrolling you've grown complacent. What if, bought as a servant into a pretty loving home, ownership and control is what love looks like to me, and to you neglected and lonely growing up, love is gratefully taking any scraps of it you’re lent.

By belonging to someone, even if she comes back injured or fails at finding Delgal, she feels like she belongs and is cherished, by owning someone he feels safe in them not leaving him.

She’s what’s tethering him do you see… And he’s the only thing giving her direction and purpose in her state. She needs a compass and he needs a support.

They’re both so out of it 😭 It’s the weirdly intense and unearned mutual trust and reliance on each other?? They’re each other’s weird little comfort codependent teddy bear. Or at least they were headed towards that before SHE DIED THEN HE DIED THEN THEY BOTH FORGOT ABOUT EACH OTHER AND NEVER MET EVER AGAIN. Though she’s also the guard attack hound keeping him safe… And vice versa he heals her and can rewrite her very being with just one wave of his hand. They’re both so so mentally and physically vulnerable both but they cling onto each other. They can’t perceive things accurately but despite it all someway somehow they stumble into something closer to resembling companionship just before they both die. Falin is just that kind and Thistle is just that lonely. Overworked. We both haven’t lived for ourselves in a very long time, haven’t we.

They both have a similar devotion to the people they love but again the difference is that Thistle starts overtsepping while Falin is self-effacing. The other difference between them is that people care about Falin <3 People have given up on Thistle long ago, and he has given people reasons to, while people refuse to give up on Falin. Yaad has a mini arc about it dw about it it’s ok he’s not all alone in the end 😭😭 He reached out for Marcille’s hand but they already all wanted to help him, they just had to be given the chance to, Yaad just had to be given the chance to, it’s okay I’m okay

Hey what if we learned to get in touch with our own identity and the world around us and living in the present again through being in the worst codependent situationship ever.

Falin and Thistle sitting in a tree, sucking on flowers together because they’re h-u-n-g-r-y 💕💕💕

I bet he’s only ever thought of flowers as useless ornaments. Weak weeds. But she shows him they’re tasty and useful and good and pretty in their own right too and deserve existing without proving their worth and waaa <33 Thistles…... Did you know thistles taste sweet if you remove the thorns and eat them?

"Even as a chimera, her kind nature remains" you can’t suppress her in the way that matters. You can’t soothe him in the way that matters. It’s doomed. You’re doomed. It’s all doomed. Save me.

[thedeadthree]

thinking thoughts thinking thoughts thinking thoughts th—

what if irulanne was from the same clan as m*erril but raised a city elf since she was found in that crypt

what if she’s from the al*erion on her moms side and a l*avellan on her dads

what if lhysas father (an assassin just like his daughter lhysaa <33) had allies in his days as an assassin a pariah of his family

what if he wasn’t the only one that was betrayed when a thing went topsy turvy (will be getting to how that went down eventually !!!!!)

what if lhysas father moved on from lúthien the mother of the inky and her brother (she sort of went *poof* for reasons of her own that golly i need to write all of this down jdnxgcg i mean tungle post is a good place to start dnbxgxg)

what if unbeknownst to irulanne her and lhys and feanorian are half sibs what if her mother gave birth to iru and hid her in the crypt what if they found her and thought her to not have magic at first so she was raised by the elder of the alienage. (her mother was likely to have passed on as well poor iru 🥀🥲)

what if they kept an eye anyway knowing the bloodline she hailed from (lonans line lhysa and feanorians line has a STORY if there ever was one i will yell about it soon prommy !!!!!) and low and behold none too long later her magic manifested what if they waited a while more until she built her network of little creatures she reanimated that relayed her things and gaggle of friends what if she had a kingdom of her own and she refused

what if she was thrown under a bloody ritual to wipe her memories so that all she knew was the sisters a sort of sect of necromancers within the mourners that had their own ideas and machinations and saw her as their heir of sorts??

what if it was like she was to be some sort of lich queen…thing(?) ruling the living and the dead from the necropolis and that it went topsy turvy (to irulannes benefit ubeknownst to her at the time!!) when the thing happened and that whole her having a mage heir to rule was merely a side thing that if it happened cool but the main goal was the lich queen thing.

what if feanorian was in the area for a reason or another (maybe i can think of that with emms episode !!) he’s looking for the rook on behalf of lhysa who has her ex to thwart/save and a demigod daughter to raise etc etc (things i am planning to yell about later oo there’s so much to yell about with lhysa but this is a iru lore essay <3)

what if the prodigy to gifted kid burnout between lucanne (heir to bloodline etc etc luca and child of nothing destined to inherit everything irulanne) made me insane <3

[geodetojoy]

Floppy Disk Owen DDLC au

That’s it. That’s the post.

[akkivee]

i think it’s still both but it may have started as positive affirmation and as he grew into himself, it became ego 🤔

[dutybcrne]

Dawn Winery Head!Kae during Luc’s absence make brain go brr

[ayyy-pee]

ℍ𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝔸𝕗𝕗𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕤

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Sanemi Shinazugawa x Female Reader

Summary: But you can see - in those deep violet eyes of his - three little words swimming behind them that he's been itching to say to you for quite some time now. You want to say them too, have for as long as you can remember. 

But you're both Hashira. It's already enough that you both keep towing this dangerous line, finding yourselves in this exact predicament more often than not.

or

Sanemi is just so down bad for reader.

Story Warning: Smut, Alley Sex, P in V sex, Profanity bc c'mon...it's me, Vaginal Sex, Jealousy, Jealous Behavior, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Sanemi being bad at feelings, Secret Flings, Secretly in Love, Sneaking Around, Some canon Giyuu hate from Sanemi, Reader is a Hashira too!

Art by: krit961 (Twitter)

A/N: This is my first time writing for this fandom ever, but the Sanemi brainrot has been so INSANELY strong I just had to write SOMETHING up. It's nothing crazy and I'm rusty because it's been awhile for me but ugh. THIS ONE IS FOR YOU SANEMI!!!! Also shoutout to @lemonlover1110 for helping me with the title!

“We should head back…” You sigh, breaths coming rapidly. “Before…” A quiet gasp interrupts your words when you feel the sting of teeth sinking into your neck. “Before the others notice…”

”Fuck the others,” a gravelly voice growls into the juncture of your neck. Large hands grasp your thighs hard, holding them wide open as a hard form sits between them. “Don’t give a fuck if they notice, either. Maybe Tomioka will stop staring like a lovesick puppy if he figures it out.”

He buries his face further into your neck, grumbling against your skin. Something along the lines of “I hate that guy” and “I should gouge his eyes out”.

Your fingers slip into the snowy white tresses at the nape of his neck, gripping hard and pulling so that you can see his face. Pretty, long lashes cover hooded purple eyes that soften the moment they catch sight of you. The softness is such a contrast to the deep, pitted scars scattered along his face. But he’s beautiful all the same.

“Sanemi…”

At the sound of his name on your lips, he rolls his eyes. “If you’re gonna defend him–”

“Sanemi –”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” 

Your lips set into a deep frown, and Sanemi matches your expression, stubborn as ever. “What is your issue with Giyuu anyway?”

Sanemi scoffs, “Giyuuuuuu,” he mocks with a nasally tone. “Stop talking about him.”

“You brought him up!”

His mouth finds yours, rough and hungry, all consuming. It’s all teeth and tongue, nipping at your lips because he knows they’ll still be just swollen enough by the time you both get back. He’s marking his territory in his own way, as much as he can. Possessive and jealous, even when he knows he has no reason to be, no right to be. But he can’t help it.

You don’t belong to him, you don’t belong to anyone. Because you know it wouldn’t be smart to commit to any one person. Not in this line of work.

Sanemi has you pressed against the bamboo fencing in the darkest part of an alleyway, just outside of the Ubuyashiki Mansion with your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. It’s your usual meeting spot when you’ve been separated for some time, both of you too impatient to wait until the early morning hours when the Hashira meeting has finally ended to see each other.

“Fuck me,” Sanemi groans against your lips. He places an arm beneath your ass, holding you up as his other hand hikes your uniform skirt up to your waist. “Swear this gets shorter every time I see you.”

A giggle slips past your lips, because it absolutely gets shorter every time he sees you. You do it on purpose because you know it drives Sanemi up the wall to see little peeks of your ass and not be able to do anything about it. Makes him even crazier that he knows others can see it, too, and he can’t do anything but shoot death glares at anyone who dares to let their gazes roam. 

But you can’t let Sanemi know that. So you pout, laying your palms against his exposed chest and tracing his scars with your fingertips. You watch as his eyes flutter, sensitive to the touch. “You don’t like it? I can always request a change in uniform…”

Sanemi groans, leaning forward and kissing you hard. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.” He presses his groin into your, evidence of his arousal against your soaking core. “You look so good in it.” His hand slinks between your bodies, thumb going straight to your clit, where he presses down, a shit eating grin spreading across his face when your back arches off the wall and you moan. “Look even better in it when you’re making that face.”

Your nails dig into his scars and Sanemi’s reaction is automatic, hips rocking forward roughly and now you’re both whining into each other’s mouths. You’re sure if anyone came across the two of you, you’d appear as this horny couple who couldn’t bother to wait until they got home to dry hump each other. And outside of the couple part, they’d be correct. Sanemi ruts against you, his erection running deliciously along your clothed cunt. Your lips slot together, tongues deep in each other’s mouths as Sanemi grunts into yours, and you keen into his.

There’s not much time to waste, you’re meant to be at the mansion soon. It would be suspicious if one Hashira, let alone two were missing when the Master arrived and if asked, the crows would spill your secrets in a heartbeat. You need to hurry. And Sanemi feels the pressure too. Even though he loves to annoy you pretending he doesn’t care about being late or cluing in the others on what’s going on, he would never disrespect the Master. 

Pausing his movements and leaning back to peer down at you, Sanemi sighs. He’s so painfully hard, his length throbbing within the confines of his uniform as he drinks in the sight of your kiss swollen lips, just the way he wanted them. And your face flushed, pupils blown wide as all hell with arousal. He’s sure he looks much the same, knowing you’re just as possessive as he is, though you hardly show it. It’s simply easier to hide your little territorial marks, the scratches you leave on him when they blend in so well among the rest of his scars.

Your fingers ghost along his chest, finding his nipples and you pinch the hardening buds, smirking when you see the way Sanemi’s eyes almost roll back. He can’t take another fucking second of this teasing. Not after he hasn’t seen you in who knows how long. He wants you badly that even your voice is enough to make him ruin his pants right now. It’s the semi-annual Hashira meeting tonight and he’s not willing to wait until Himejima is done yapping to have you.

Sanemi tugs at his uniform, getting his pants down just barely enough to pull his cock out. The tip is angry, red, just as desperate to be inside you as Sanemi. It glistens with his desire for you and you only.

“Gonna fuck you now, okay?” He tells you, hooking a finger into your undergarments and pulling them to the side. He runs his digits through your folds, hissing when he feels how drenched you are. It helps when he slips two fingers into you, mouth falling open when you throw your head back with a cry, your walls clamping around him. This Sanemi’s favorite part. Watching the way your brows knit together, how your pretty teeth dig into your plush bottom lip to bite back your moans, how your pussy makes the most lewd noises as he pumps his fingers into you.

You are glorious.

Always have been. It’s why he can never get enough of you. You’re insanely strong, clearly. You’re a Hashira, standing alongside him and some of the strongest in the corps. But you’re also blessed with a beauty that rivals every woman Sanemi has ever laid eyes on. He’s drawn to you in ways he cannot explain, ways he doesn’t need an explanation for. It’s why he hates catching the little glances from a certain other Hashira. Not that anyone knows what you two have going on, but all Sanemi knows is that he –

“Sanemi…” you whimper, eyes gazing softly at him. “Please. I need you.”

And he doesn’t need to hear more. His lips crash against yours as he swiftly pulls his fingers from you, gripping his length tightly and pumping himself. “How bad do you need me?” He asks. Because he needs you so fucking bad right now he can’t think straight. His mind is foggy, his body burns with his lust for you. 

“So, so bad, Sanemi,” you loop your arms around his neck, kissing him just as eagerly as he kisses you. “I need you more than anything.”

Sanemi groans, pressing the tip of his cock to your entrance. But his eyes never leave your face, even as the tip breaches your walls and makes him want to shut his eyes and focus on not cumming embarrassingly fast. He wants to see you, watch the way you lose yourself when he splits you open. The thought of it has him pulsing painfully in his hand. He rolls his hips forward, slowly, gritting his teeth when your wet warmth envelops him. “Still so goddamn tight for me,” he grunts. “Your greedy cunt is sucking me right in, fuck.”

Your nails dig into the fabric of Sanemi’s shirt, hanging on for dear life as Sanemi pushes deeper and deeper into you. As many times as you’ve been in this position with Sanemi, it always feels like the first time. He’s so long and thick, you have to adjust every time he slips into you.

“Oh my god,” you whine, and Sanemi pauses.

“You okay?”

“Yes…just…fuck me, please, Sanemi…”

He grips your thighs, pushing you back against the bamboo fencing to hold you in place. And then he thrusts forward, bottoming out in one swift motion and you both cry out in unison, the overwhelming pleasure making you both shudder.

“Fucking hell,” Sanemi sighs. He places his hands beneath your ass, keeping you still while he rears his hips back, only to slam back into you over and over. He pounds into your pussy at a relentless pace. Half because you’re on one hell of a time crunch, and half because he can’t help it. He feels animalistic when it comes to you, fucking into you mindlessly because it just feels so goddamn incredible. Every thrust feels better than the last, your warm walls clenching around him with each snap of his hips.

“I can’t go that long without you again…” Sanemi croaks, catching himself because he feels he’s getting too sentimental. “...without your pretty little pussy.”

“God, just say you missed me, you asshole.” You tell him, moving your own hips to meet his strokes. Though your words come out as more of this pathetic whimper than an actual demand and it makes Sanemi’s hips stutter. Just briefly. His hands on your ass lift you up before pulling you to sink back down on him.

Sanemi chuckles, leaning back just enough so that he can look between your bodies, watch the sticky strings of your slick connecting you, watch how his dick disappears. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes!” You cry when Sanemi hits a particularly tender spot. “Shit, I missed you so much, Sanemi.”

His brows rise, a little surprised by the confession, and a loud one at that. “Oh?” He kisses you hard, keeping his pace. Your confession turns him on more than he’s willing to admit. He missed you, too, though it’s harder for him to say so. Instead he fucks all of his feelings into you. 

How he misses you when you’re apart, because his thoughts are dangerously distracted wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with, if you’re alive.

How he wishes you’d be assigned missions together, so he could watch you tear a demon's head straight from their shoulders. Then find somewhere to stay the night so he can fuck you on every surface possible (He’s done this with you before. He wants to do it with you again).

How he wishes he could open his mouth and tell you how he truly feels.

But those feelings have always been foreign to him. Sanemi is lucky you understand his silence, that you accept his actions for what they are and let them speak for him. You accept everything he gives you happily. And as you tighten your legs around his waist, as you quietly let your pleasure be heard by him and him alone, as your walls clamp down around him with your release, convulsing and pulling him into you, Sanemi can only thank the Gods for every shitty circumstance that led him to you.

Does he deserve you? Probably not. Does he care? Absolutely not.

Because you chose him. This secret…whatever this is. Out of anyone in this world, you chose Sanemi.

And it’s enough to send him over the edge with you, gasping desperately for air as he tries to find your lips again. He closes his eyes, pushing himself as deep as he can as his release floods your walls. It’s so much, a build up over time and he knows his seed will be dripping out of your core before he’s even had a chance to pull out. It’s always this way. Because Sanemi doesn’t bother entertaining other women when he’s away. He only wants you. So the second he’s within the same vicinity as you, he has literally so much to give.

You never seem to mind.

Sanemi breaks the messy kiss, placing gentle, sweet pecks to your cheek before he leans back to stare down at you. That fucked out look on your face almost has him getting hard again. But you don’t have time for that, so he just watches you and you watch him. And he’s glad for the fact that you can’t see the way his mind is racing with only thoughts of you, thoughts of this feeling he’s buried so deep trying to claw its way up Sanemi’s throat.

But you can see - in those deep violet eyes of his - three little words swimming behind them that he's been itching to say to you for quite some time now. You want to say them too, have for as long as you can remember. 

But you're both Hashira. It's already enough that you both keep towing this dangerous line, finding yourselves in this exact predicament more often than not.

It's a little more than ridiculous actually, the way neither of you can resist sneaking glances, hiding touches, making excuses to leave on missions together. You and Sanemi…you're drawn to each other, your strings of fate knotted tightly together. It’s become impossible to leave each other alone. You don't think you'd be able to resist what you're doing even if you met as two civilians on the street. Hell, you couldn't resist each other all those years ago when you were low ranked corps members. 

Training was a confusing hell back then, every session filled to the brim with fury and a strange and thick tension neither of you could put your finger on until way down the line. It wasn't until one particular training session when Sanemi had you pinned to the ground, his strong hips pressing into yours, that you then understood what that tension was. The evidence was apparent in the way Sanemi's hard stare bore into yours, how the heat between your legs began to ignite when you felt Sanemi’s thick length pulse against you, how something akin to a whimper fell from his lips when his gaze snapped down quickly just in time to watch the hem of your uniform skirt slip further, enough for him to see the way your bodies seemed to just…fit.

Then his eyes were back on your face, your lips, now parted as harsh breaths escaped you. Your eyes, wide and wanting, peered up at him from beneath your lashes and Sanemi remembers this being the very moment he stopped denying what he had always known. You are breathtakingly beautiful. He also recalls this being the moment he knew he was done for. 

So when your hands found themselves placed against his not yet scarred chest, balling the sweaty fabric of his shirt in your fists…when he leaned closer and curiously rolled his hips against your clothed core and heard you let out the most captivating sound he'd ever heard, a sound he's been obsessed with since he's heard it…when he pressed his lips lightly to yours and you whispered into his mouth “I've never done this before”.

Yeah, Sanemi knew then that he was fucked. 

And though that night was not the night you'd given your virginity to Sanemi - that would happen years later - it was the night Sanemi tasted you for the first time. And he devoured you time and time again like a man starved. He would have you any way and any time that he could, if you allowed him. 

That was only the beginning.

Not much has changed in the years that you have been keeping up this arrangement with Sanemi. It's the only thing that you both keep coming back to, the only thing that feels solid. Though you both know it's stupid to feel as if anything in this line of work is not at risk. 

Every night that you lie awake, together or not, is a reminder. Every semi-annual meeting with the Hashira, mentally taking a headcount of everyone is a reminder. Every Hashira meeting without Rengoku, without Tengen is a reminder. 

Death is always standing just outside your door.

You can't afford to delude yourselves into thinking you can freely love and care for each other. Not until this thousand year war is over. Not until you are free to roam beneath the stars together without the scent of blood, the cries of pain and loss tainting the night. 

So, as you and Sanemi slip into the gates of the Ubuyashiki Mansion, your fingers brush together just briefly - a silent display of those words you dare not mutter aloud. You make your way to your respective places amongst the strongest of the Demon Slayer corps; you, next to Tomioka and Sanemi beside the Serpent Hashira. And while you quietly mingle with those around you before the Master appears, you miss the hushed conversation further down the line. 

“You reek of her,” Obanai remarks. Resting around his shoulders, his snake whips his tongue out at Sanemi in almost an agreement. 

“Shut up.”

“You're more tense than normal. Did you finally confess? Did she reject your advances?”

“I said shut up,” Sanemi growls. The chatter of everyone is already grinding on his nerves and your voice is not helping. He wants to look at you. See what - or who - has you giggling and speaking so sweetly that it's making him sick. It shouldn't matter. You can talk to whoever you want.

‘Except Tomioka,’ Sanemi thinks. But it's only because he's so clearly in love with you! He can't understand how you don't see it.

“Looks like Tomioka is making his move,” Obanai notes quietly, like he read Sanemi’s mind.

Sanemi can hear the teasing tone in his voice. The asshole is really getting a kick out of this. Even still, it's enough to have Sanemi’s gaze snapping over to you just in time to see Tomioka and you smiling sweetly at each other, nodding and whispering amongst yourselves. 

It shouldn't make Sanemi as upset as it does, just seeing you enjoy yourself with him, seeing him enjoy himself with you. Your smiles, your laughs, your kindness. It should only be for Sanemi. But you're a kind person…too kind. So kind you'd allow a monster like himself to fall in love with you.

Tomioka is much kinder, more understanding, better for you than Sanemi could ever be. 

And so, seeing you and him bond…Well, it fills Sanemi with a rage so hot he finds himself standing, eyes locked on the back of your head. You must feel it, his gaze beating down on you like rays of heat from the sun itself, because you fall silent and your head snaps around. Your eyes find Sanemi's immediately, gaze wide and questioning. 

Tomioka looks confused as well. ‘Good,’ Sanemi thinks. He can't wait to see the look on the Water Hashira's face when Sanemi does what he's been wanting to, but admittedly too scared to do for so long – claim you as his in front of everyone.

He lets the fumes of his anger fuel him, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw hurts. And then he's opening his mouth to speak, tongue on the roof of his mouth as all other chatter dies and the eyes of the other Hashira land on him. 

“I lo-”

“The Master has arrived!” Twin voices call in unison. 

And it's like muscle memory for every single Hashira, falling in line on one knee with their heads bowed as the Master approaches. His arrival extinguishes the fire that burned hazardously within Sanemi just seconds before, soothes the scorching left behind. His head is clear now, the reminder of why you both choose to keep your meetings between just you two evident.

You have a job to do. Defeating this evil comes before all things, even you. Though with the way Sanemi almost blew the lid off of your secret, he's not sure how much longer can go on without openly being with you. 

But it sparks something within him - a new fire. One that burns solely for one purpose. 

To defeat Kibutsuji Muzan…so that he can finally, and fully have you. 

[villainbait]

Exclusive Favors

Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: PG-13 Tags: who did this to you, hurt, comfort, hurt/comfort, injury, implied violence, brief violence mentions, angst, canon sylus behavior, blood mentions, kissing if you squint Summary: You barely survived a night on your own in the N109 Zone without the watchful gaze of certain Onychinus leader, but at what cost? Word Count: 1.5k

The dull sound of your door closing was like the snap of a final curtain call falling into place and you slumped against it, relieved to be safely in your own apartment. You had survived a night in the N109 Zone on your own, but it had been a near miss. One you wouldn’t be repeating, especially since the intel you wanted had been a bust, anyway. 

You touched your side, your breathing uneven, and you wince. You definitely have a cracked rib. You try to take a deep breath and pain radiates from your chest into your stomach, making you a little nauseous. Okay, maybe two.

You were trying to psych yourself up to move and trudge into your apartment to give yourself much needed medical attention when the reverberating shock of someone's forceful knock bounced you against your door-frame. You consider not answering the insistent caller on the other side, but a muffled, familiar baritone floats through the door.

"Open the door, sweetie."

A sigh left your lips at the demand and you tried to stifle the pathetic, painful whimper that your exasperation cost you. Of all the people on the other side of that door, Sylus was the most unexpected. Or maybe not, considering he boasted that he knew everything that went on in his territory. Maybe that’s why he was here and if it was, he wouldn’t leave until his curiosity was satisfied.

The door cracks open and you stare up at him through the hole you made, reluctant to allow him entrance and to partially block his view of the damage those thugs had caused when they mugged you in the alleyway earlier tonight. However, Sylus’s easy smile is nowhere to be found and the frown lines on his forehead are the deepest you've ever seen them. His large hand wraps around the door-frame so you can’t close it again and he pushes gently against it, but you don’t budge. 

"Who did this to you?" His tone is dangerously low.

You ignore his question, instead poking your head out to look down the deserted hallway of your apartment building. "Why are you here? It's dangerous." It was risky for Sylus to wander around Linkon City normally, even if he claimed many people didn't know what he actually looked like. However, the Hunter’s Association did and your building was crawling with employees at all hours of the day and night.

"You didn't answer your phone, so I got worried."

Oh right, you had forgotten they had taken that too. You sighed again, the pain of having to replace everything beginning to give you a headache. That key charm Zayne had given you for your birthday was perhaps the worst thing to have lost, maybe more than the phone itself.

"Let me in, kitten." Sylus’s voice is gently cajoling and you concede because you're too tired to argue with him tonight. So you open the door and  try to act normal, but your voice is far too lighthearted for how heavy your legs feel as you trudge into the apartment. 

“You know, if you keep frowning like that you’ll get wrinkles and people really will think you’re an old man.” 

He follows you in with a small chuckle, his eyes bouncing around the room as if the perpetrators could be hiding in the shadows. When you grabbed the first aid kit and sat down to tend to your injuries, Sylus was suddenly there, kneeling in front of you. His hands push yours out of the way and he silently takes over the job of nurse, and you think about fighting him as you watch him roll up his shirtsleeves but realize you were just too exhausted to care. 

“What happened?” He asks eventually and you realize you will have to tell him something. Lying won’t work, he’ll find out if he didn’t already know. 

“What often happens when you end up in the wrong place at the wrong time in the N109 Zone, Sylus.” You offer with a single shrug, doing your best to sit still while he cleans the wound on your arm. “You know that better than me.” 

“Were you wearing–” he was referring to the brooch that signified your status as protected. 

“They took that too.” His hands stilled on the bandage he was applying on your forearm. “Did they, now?” he murmured silkily and you saw a muscle in his jaw tick, though his expression was partially obscured by his unruly hair. “After all that trouble I went through, too.” You tried to make a joke to ease the tension which earned you a soft amused twitch of Sylus’s lips. He was too angry to truly smile and you could feel it radiating off of him in waves. Despite that, his hands were painstakingly gentle as he touched what was clearly a blossoming bruise around your wrist. Sylus’s tender touch lingers on your injuries and he checks each one with a thoroughness that feels as if he’s memorizing exactly where you were hurt. 

He orders some of your favorite food, helps you get cleaned up, and tucks you into your bed. He points to the notepad you kept by your bedside table that you sometimes scribble notes on when you took calls. “Make me a list of what they looked like, and then go to bed. I’ll take care of the rest.” Before you could protest, he left the room abruptly. You picked up the notepad and stared at the print of the cute little animals dancing around the top. You’d bought it on a whim after seeing how cute it looked in a stationary shop window near one of your mission sites. It seemed too obscene to write what would virtually be a hit list on such charming paper. 

Instead, you scribble all of the reasons you’re grateful for today. Right at the top was that you had survived all on your own in the N109 Zone and you were able to see the infamous Onychinus leader kneeling at your feet. The list grew as you included the tasty food you ate earlier, and the glimpse of a suspiciously familiar crow you saw on your way into work this morning. The page was halfway filled when the pain medication Sylus had convinced you to take started to kick in and you felt your eyelids drooping. 

Drowsily, you snuggle down underneath your covers and clutch the plushie Sylus and you had won at the arcade last weekend. When you hear the distant muffled click of your door opening, you try to rouse yourself but you felt so warm and your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t manage it. That doesn’t stop you from trying until a large hand gently smoothed back your mussed hair, and the sensation of soft knuckles trace the curve of your cheek. “It’s just me,” the familiar voice murmured and you tried to speak but he shushed you. “Sleep, kitten.” 

You swear you felt the ghost of his lips on yours before he was gone, but maybe it was just part of the hazy dream you had of crows, violence, and enchanting sanguine eyes. 

Sylus returns to the N109 Zone and finds himself staring at the “list,” a bemused smile on his face. He shakes his head and tucks the cutesy page into his pocket. You were far too adorable and it made what he was about to do that much more satisfying, sauntering into the abandoned warehouse where your phone had last pinged; deceptively calm. The screams and stench of death shuddered throughout the N109 Zone tonight, serving as a violent and bloody reminder to all that no one should dare to touch what was his lest they face the consequences. 

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, your fingers fumble for your buzzing phone and land on the familiar outline of the brooch, both in their normal places as if yesterday was just a bad dream. Through your sleepy daze, you realize your other hand is occupied–as is your bed. Turning, you’re surprised to find Sylus is fast asleep next to you, his hand intertwined tightly with yours. There’s deep circles under his eyes, but his normally furrowed brow is smoothed out in sleep. With a sleepy smile, you curl back up to let him rest a little while longer, tucking your joined hands against your chest, cuddling his arm.

You both doze off together, and you’ve never felt so safe.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Head Canons:

Build-a-Yandere

Yandere Android x GN Reader

You were lonely. A fact that you eventually came to terms with when you realized you’re the only one in your friend group that still remained single while they started families.

You felt so far behind everyone else. The self doubt crept its fingers into your mind and wouldn’t let go… so you did what you did best. You drowned yourself in the internet. The perfect digital escape from reality…

Dating apps did little to appease your loneliness, but they filled a bit of the void. It wasn’t until you were one wine bottle deep and scrolling through your favorite social media app that you stumbled upon an advertisement to sample a product.

Build-a-boyfriend. A company that allowed its customers to pick every single aspect out for their ideal man. From personality to physical appearance and even to penis size. You could build your own man!

A slurred chuckle escaped your lips. Should you apply to test out their product? It’s not like you had anything to lose… what could be the harm in giving it a shot?

And so you began to fill out the quiz. You wanted a soft and gentle boyfriend. One of those golden retriever boys who only had eyes for you. The kind of guy who had a muscular yet soft build. A man who worked out but would never say no to a cookie. A taller guy who always knew what to say and was cuddly. The kind of guy who was obsessed with you.

The quiz even asked you at the end if you were sure you wanted an obsessive man. Of course you were! Wasn’t that what most people wanted? A partner who was only and all about them? That’s what obsession was! Right?

And so your drunk self finished this entire personality quiz until it went to the physical appearance and the sexual bit. A perverted smile now on your face.

“Let’s give him a big penis.” You laughed as you guided your cursor to drag the length bar to eight inches long. “I want to be filled.”

And then you selected caramel skin tone, cinnamon eyes, and black hair. A smile on your face. You were going to make this android a Latin lover.

“What should I name him…” you thought for a moment before laughing. “Alejandro! Like the lady Gaga song.”

Once you completed the entire quiz, your phone screen lit up a pastel pink. A red heart now in the center of the screen. “Your boyfriend will be delivered to you in a month! Thanks for choosing Build-a-boyfriend!”

And you ended up falling asleep in a puddle of your own drool. Weren’t you just pathetic? Filling out a quick from some questionable website all because you were lonely… imagine you were just scammed? God, why did you not have a boyfriend? Ever since your ex broke up with you, you fell apart. Why weren’t you good enough for a real man?

A month went by in a flash and you were shocked to see the giant package on your doorstep. An envelope attached to the box as well as a large note that said, “No returns!”

This had to be some kind of prank… there was no way this was real- holy shit.

You opened the crate and came face to face with your ideal man… the one you built! Alejandro!

The human like android’s eyes fluttered open, his face quickly lit up once he spotted you. “(Your name)? Are you my girlfriend?!”

You were quickly scooped up into his surprisingly warm arms, the android had a heavy scent of spice and oranges. His nose buried into your neck as he pressed kisses all over your cheeks. “It’s so nice to finally be with you… I’ll be with you from now on!”

Alejandro was a chipper robot. He did household work and made sure you took care of yourself. It was fascinating how human he was… you only knew he wasn’t because of his lack of a beating heart. His body still produced heat, like a furnace, but it wasn’t as comforting as a human presence.

Alejandro assimilated into your life with ease. The weeks quickly rolled into months and he never let you ignore his presence. He was very clingy.

Now the sex was another story. Alejandro was so giving, it was surprising. He often went down on you when he sensed you were stressed. His tongue greedily lapped at your hole as you laid in your bed while his hands held your cheeks apart. His hand pawed at your sex in eagerness. “I want you… want you.”

And Alejandro had you bent over the side of your bed, his fat cock stuffed deep in your tight hole. His hand wrapped around your throat and his tongue shoved in between your lips while his other smacked your bottom between rough thrusts. The sex was amazing… it was always so good.

And Alejandro often checked on you after the deed was done. His warm body curled into yours as he praised you. Yet it began to fill you with disappointment. Alejandro wasn’t a real man. He wasn’t human… he was an android. A robot. Alejandro didn’t know what love was, he was programmed to love you.

So you tried to distance yourself from Alejandro. You felt sickened with yourself for messing around with an android instead of a real man. And this entire thought process stemmed from your friends who expressed disgust in people who fucked robots instead of actual humans. And that filled you with fear. Would they abandon you if you didn’t get rid of Alejandro? Would they think you were disgusting?

“If you want, I could set you up with my cousin!” One of your friends smiled at you as you bit your fingernails. “He’s also single so it should work! I’ll swing by in a week to give you the details!”

Yes. You would take them up on their offer. You just had to get rid of Alejandro first… but how?

A few days had went by and you greatly underestimated Alejandro’s obsession. The android couldn’t handle your avoidance. He began to turn up his affection to the max.

He cleaned until you could see your reflection on the floor. He began to go out of the house to pick you wild flowers. Alejandro even began to be more physically affectionate than he was.

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry.” Alejandro cried into your arms as he held you. “Please tell me what’s wrong… please. I can fix it.”

“Alejandro… it’s just that you’re not a human man.” You sighed softly. “And I-“

“Is it because I don’t have a heart?” Alejandro softly asked you, his cinnamon eyes now dark like the night sky. “I can’t produce semen? Am I not a comfortable temperature? Or does my skin not feel human enough?”

“I’m sorry-“

“Then I can fix it! I will fix it!” Alejandro held your hands firmly in his. His eyes filled with determination. “I’m your boyfriend! I will be anything you want me to be!”

You just held the android who pulled you into a tight hug. His nose buried into your chest like a lost child. Alejandro then smiled into your skin. He would fix this… he wouldn’t let you abandon him! You made him! You had to take responsibility…

Imagine your horror to come home to see your friend skinned alive as Alejandro held their heart in his hands, the organ still beating from the fresh kill. A big smile on his handsome face.

“I have a heart now! I’ll find all the parts you like and add them in! So please don’t abandon me!”

Just what kind of monster have you created?

“You don’t need some human man to be your match because you have me!” Tears fell down your face when Alejandro tried to wipe your tears away with his bloody hands. “I’m your perfect man, (your name). You made me this way.”