#the coat thing fucking killed me as soon as i noticed it

[humming-fly]

shoutout to the live action films for making the executive decision to nuke greed’s backstory and instead just have him repeatedly show up unannounced with no explanation, making him the funniest character in the whole movie 

Bonus:

[hanniebaeee]

Meant to be

Lee Felix x fem!reader (ft best friend Hyunjin)

Warnings: some violence, jealous Hyunjin, his girlfriend is a psycho, mentions of blood and stitches, insults, name calling, soft kisses, (Felix is a cutie pie, Minho is literally everything ❤)

Genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

Summary: Hyunjin's girlfriend is not very fond of you and your friendship is in shambles. But a certain blond haired freckled man is whipped for you, and you realize it's not the end of the world.

Part 2

Y/N knocked on the boys' dorm door and waited. She could hear laughter and music on the other side. The door opened and Felix's head popped out with a wide grin.

'Hey Y/N, come on in!' He said, stepping aside for her.

'Hey, I actually-'

Y/N stopped short as she saw her walking into the living room from the kitchen. She wore one of Hyunjun's T-shirt and looked right at home. Hyunjin called out to Felix and came towards the door, laughing. His cheerful demeanor dropped dead as he saw Y/N's face.

'So what's this all important thing that made you skip Minho hyung's birthday party, hm?' Felix asked, not catching up with the tension between his friends.

'I had some things to do with Jisoo' Y/N lied quickly, ignoring Hyunjin completely. 'I'll see you guys later ok? I have to go now.'

'At least come in and wish him!' Felix said taking her hand in his. Hyunjin felt his cheeks burn in shake and stayed silent as Felix tried to get Y/N to go in.

'I'm so sorry, Felix. I will call Lino, ok? I promise, I can't stay.'

Felix frowned as she pulled her arm off his grip and stepped back.

'Hyunjinnie!! Come look at this!!' Hana's loud voice was a stab at Y/N's heart. Seeing her coming their way, Y/N turned away quickly. She didn't want anyone to see the tears in her eyes.

'I came to drop Innie's coat. He had left it at mine last time, and he asked if I could bring it over. Just give it to him ok? Bye now!' She pushed the bag she was carrying into Felix's hands and fled. She could hear Hana's voice now, questioning Hyunjin why Y/N was there.

She heard footsteps behind her. For a minute she wished that it would be Hyunjin. But it was Felix.

'Hey hey hey, wait!' He caught up with her. 'What's going on, Y/N?'

Y/N just shook her head, wiping the tears off her face.

'Sweetheart why are you crying?!' Felix asked, pulling her into a hug. 'Shh, it's ok!'

Y/N cried into his chest and Felix felt his heart break into a thousand pieces.

'What the hell is going on?' He asked, hands on her arms, holding her back to look at her face.

Y/N shook her head.

'I'm an idiot, Felix. That's what's wrong.' She said sadly. 'I'm sorry, you should go back before one of them notices that you're gone.'

She tried to free herself from his grip, but Felix refused to let go.

'I don't give a fuck. Got it? You're not going anywhere till you tell me what's going on?' Felix was so mad, it stunned Y/N to silence. She had never seen him mad before.

'I wasn't invited, ok? Hyunjin told me Lino was celebrating with his family. He told me you guys were busy tonight.' Y/N's voice wobbled as she spoke through her sobs. 'Please just let it be. He was protecting his girlfriend. That's all. Please don't say anything!'

'I'm taking you home.' Felix announced, taking her hand and walking towards the exit.

'No no no, please, don't!' Y/N said, shaking her head in protest. 'Go back, I don't want anymore accusations against me!'

'Don't make me go up there and punch Hyunjin in the face. I swear to God I'll do it.' Felix snarled, shutting her up. 'I would like to see who would dare to accuse you of anything.'

That's when they heard footsteps. Minho appeared soon and he stopped still as he saw Y/N's tear streaked face.

'Im gonna fucking kill him today.' Minho muttered, turning around and making his way upstairs.

Y/N had a hard time convincing her friends to let this go. Minho rolled his eyes before he hugged her and held her close for a while.

'I hope you understand that he's an idiot and she's going to fuck him over soon.' Minho said sighing. 'We love you, Y/N. No one can replace you.'

'I love you guys too. Don't worry about it ok?' Y/N said and took a few steps back. 'I'll see you guys after the tour.'

'I'm still taking you home.' Felix reminded her, before leading the way out.

The car ride to Y/N's apartment was silent. Felix settled down on Y/N's sofa and said, 'You know you can talk to me right? I know you and Hyunjin go way back, but i care for you just as much?'

'I know Felix, and thank you so much this.' Y/N said sitting near him. 'I feel so bad for this mess. I think I have been a bad friend to Hyunjin and Hana...it has to be why he thought it was best to avoid me...'

She felt a surge of emotions as she thought of how happy he looked even after lying to her. It showed how much he actually disliked her.

'Sweetheart, that girl is a walking talking red flag. She's jealous of you. That's the only reason she persuaded him to leave you out. And trust me, Hyunjin is an idiot.' Felix placed a hand on hers and gave her a soft smile. 'All you have to do is say a word, and Minho hyung will literally shift his birthday party to yours.'

Y/N gave him a teary laugh.

'I love you guys.' She whispered, before the floodgates opened again. Felix already had his arms around her, holding her in his warm embrace.

'Y/N, can I say something?'

Y/N pulled back, looking at him.

'Um, I don't even know if this is a good time to say anything. But I can't stand by and watch him hurt you like this.' Felix said. 'I know you, and I'm afraid that you'll disappear from my life once we go on that tour. I don't even know if it's fair to do this right now, but I want to.'

'Felix, what's going on? You can tell me anything.' Y/N said, squeezing his hand.

Felix remained silent for a few seconds before clearing his throat and saying, 'I love you, Y/N. Not just as a friend, but as more. I'm in love with you. I have been for a while. But I never said anything because everything is always about you and Hyunjin. He is always there, and when he's there, you don't see anything else.'

Y/N felt like the air was sucked right out of her lungs. Felix was one of her closest friends. She trusted him with her life and she knew he would always be there whenever she needed him. She blushed as he gazed at her softly.

'You don't have to say anything today. We're leaving tomorrow anyway, take your time. Just, just don't leave, ok? When I get back, we can talk, yeah? Talk this out? Even if you say no, that's fine. We can still be friends, I'll not hold it against you. I just want you to know that Hyunjin is not the end of the world. There are people who love you and look out for you here. You just have to look.' Felix lifted her hand to his face and kissed her knuckles.

'I don't know what to say.' Y/N said, feeling light headed all of a sudden. This had been a strange day. All she wanted was to go lay in her bed and pass out.

'You don't have to say anything. Think about it. Yes or no, I will always be here for you. If you need someone to talk to, I'm just on the other side of the phone. And you can always call Lino. He adores you. And Chan. He loves you so much!' Felix gave her a toothy smile.

Y/N threw her arms around Felix, hugging him. He placed a kiss on her cheek before finally deciding to leave.

'I don't think I'll be coming to say goodbye.' Y/N said in a small voice. 'But I just want you to know that I'm so proud of you! And I'll be waiting...'

Felix and Y/N stood looking at each other, both shy and pink faced. They hugged again and she watched him leave. She wanted to go and wish them all luck for their journey tomorrow, but she didn't think she had it in her to face Hyunjin again.

Y/N missed her friends a lot. She watched their lives, and followed their tour through social media. Felix called her everyday, even if it was just for a minute, he still called. Minho and Chan called whenever they had time to sit and talk. Hyunjin didn't call at all. Not even once, though he did text her a few times, sending her pictures of things that he knew she loved. Y/N didn't really respond to them. Maybe a thumbs up sign, maybe not even that.

She got busy with her own work and she rarely ever had time to mourn over Hyunjin. She did see Hana around a few times, but they ignored each other quite well, so no problem there. She had felt insanely petty one day and gone ahead and blocked Hana from all her social media accounts. There was no need for her watchful eye anymore.

Felix's confession had stayed with her, though. It made her heart flutter and it made her smile through anything. Y/N had realized that Felix was right - everything in her life was all about Hyunjin to the point where nothing else really mattered. All this time away from him after he had hurt her cleared up some things. Y/N was sure that she liked Felix. He made her feel all fuzzy and warm on the inside. And knowing that it wasn't all one sided like the Hyunjin situation made it a little better. She couldn't wait for him to get back.

Two months later:

Y/N was just back from a dinner date with Jennie. She was about to go and get changed when she heard her doorbell. She opened the door and squealed in happiness to see Felix standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

'Surprise!' He said and he laughed as she pulled him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around her, his face pressing against her neck. They held on tight, for so long that finally someone cleared their throat.

'Well, if I had known this, I would have done the 'surprise' part!' Minho's teasing voice broke them apart, both a blushing mess.

'Lino!! Oh God, I missed you!!' Y/N said, letting him pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

'And me? Did you miss me??' Chan stood grinning and grabbed her from Minho's grip into a bear hug.

'Of course I did!' Y/N said, leading them all in. She was a bit disappointed that Hyunjin had decided not to come or tell her that he was heading home.

They sprawled across her sofa and told her all about their tour and even gave her some of the gifts that they had got for her.

'I just came back from dinner. Did you guys want something? I can order-'

'No no, just sit with us' Minho said shaking his head. 'We had dinner before we came.'

'Ok.' She said. 'I'm so happy to see you guys!'

'So, we're having a little party at the dorm tomorrow.' Chan said. 'We want you to come. Just celebrating the tour and everything.'

'Chan, thanks for inviting me... But I'm not sure if that's a good idea.' Y/N said, feeling a stabbing pain in her heart. 'I don't know if I can face-'

'Sweetheart, it's not fair. We want you there. You can't keep making all your decisions based on a certain person when he doesn't put in half that effort!' Felix said, clearly upset. 'That's not fair on us. We wanna spend time with you!'

'Y/N. You're coming. End of discussion. Ok? I'll be here by 4 and we'll go together.' Minho said calmly. 'If anyone has anything to say about that, they can talk to my fist.'

Y/N stared at him wide eyed.

'I would love to break his pretty face. But I hold back for our Stays.' He added.

'I don't want you guys to fight because of me, ok? Hyunjin comes first. For you.' Y/N said. 'Please.'

'Fine. I won't break his face. Will you come? To save his face, that is?' Minho gave her his most evil innocent smile and Y/N sighed.

'I'll come.' She said. 'Only for you guys'

The party was in full swing when Minho and Y/N reached the dorm. Jeongin and Seungmin wrapped their arms around Y/N, pressing soft kisses on her cheeks as they saw her. She laughed, pushing them away. She was nervous and she tried to keep her eyes on her friends rather than let them wander.

Unfortunately, she did get a glimpse of Hana watching her with judgemental eyes as the boys gushed over her.

Felix put an arm around her, leading her into the kitchen.

'You good?' He aaked.

Y/N nodded and he held her hand in his as he led to a platter of his famous brownies. He fed her a piece before helping himself. The moment was nice and they stood smiling at each other. Y/N could feel the warm radiating from his body to her and she felt her cheeks go warm. Felix's fingers intertwined with her's.

He was about to say something when someone walked in. They turned and Y/N felt herself shrink under Hyunjin's sharp look. His eyes lingered on their joined hands, jealousy flaring in them.

'When did you get here?' Hyunjin asked.

'A while ago.' Y/N said.

'Really? I didn't see you at all.' Hyunjin said, and she could feel a hidden accusation in his words.

'Are you even allowed to talk to me, Hyunjin?' She asked, her grip on Felix's hand tighter.

Hyunjin just looked taken aback. He opened his mouth to say something, but he struggled to do so.

'It's good to see you.' He managed.

Y/N felt her hands go sweaty and her heart hammered painfully. She wasn't ready for this. She slowly extracted her hand from Felix's.

'I need some air.' she whispered to Felix before fleeing the room. The boys stood staring after her. Hyunjin took a step forward, but Felix shot him a glare.

'Don't you dare.' He hissed. 'Stay away.'

Y/N opened the balcony door and slipped out quietly. Just a few minutes later, she heard the door open and she exhaled in defeat. When she turned, it was Hana. She gave Y/N an irritated look and said, 'so what's this drama for?'

'I have absolutely nothing to say to you. Leave me alone.' Y/N said, turning away from her.

'You are a piece of work you know. Coming in here like a poor heartbroken little girl, so that all these boys would just pamper you. Just so you know they keep you around only 'coz they feel sorry for you. They know what kind of a whore you are! If you really care for Hyunjin, leave us the fuck alone! He doesn't need a low life like you hanging on his back, got it? He has me and the boys and that's quite enough. If you have any self respect left, just fucking leave quietly.' Hana's words had such poison in them, Y/N just stared at her open mouthed.

'You know nothing about me.' Y/N said, her body trembling with hurt and anger. 'It's better if you just leave me alone.'

'You can't even defend yourself because everything I said is true! Oh my God! You have no shame! He hates you, he doesn't want to see you! Just get the fuck out of my life!' Hana's tantrum caught the attention of Seungmin who was sitting in the living room. He stood up and came closer to the balcony door.

'Why are you still wearing that pendant? It doesn't belong to you anymore!' Hana pointed at the pendant Y/N wore around her neck. Hyunjin had a similar one. They've had it for years now and Y/N had never taken it off since Hyunjin gifted it to her. Hana was quick as launched forward and grabbed at it. Y/N gasped and pulled back.

Hana pulled at the necklace so hard, if snapped, but it was unexpectedly strong and the metal cut through Y/N's skin, leaving bloody trails on their way way. She screamed in pain, her hands going up to cover her neck, tears streaming down her face. Seungmin hurled the door open and was at Y/N's side in an instant. He pushed Hana away and she tumbled back, falling on her butt.

Hana screamed a little when she saw the blood and she knew she had fucked up. She dropped the necklace and covered her mouth with her hands. The other boys came running, and there was utter confusion as Seungmin shouted curses at Hana. Felix was in a state of panic as he saw the blood he took Y/N out of the balcony, as she sobbed in pain. Minho had joined Seungmin in giving Hana a piece of his mind.

'Come on, sweetheart, Chan is waiting in the car. We have to get you to a hospital.' Felix said, helping her out of the apartment.

Y/N felt faint. The wound stung and she felt really unwell.

'Felix, I can't-' she mumbled. 'I think I'm gonna be sick.'

The next thing she saw was Hyunjin in front of her, holding a plastic bag open for her.

'She gets really queasy when she's hurt.' he said and she could see tears running down his face. He kept sniffling and containing his sobs, trying not to look at her.

'Hyunjin, come on.' Felix said, patting him on the shoulder. 'Calm down.'

'If I see you ever again, I'm gonna -' Minho's threats were getting so loud, Seungmin and Changbin had to get him away from Hana, who wailed like she was the real victim.

Hyunjin stood up and went out to the balcony. The others helped Y/N down to the car and took her to the hospital. She did need some stitches on, but the majority of the wound was not that deep. Felix, Minho and Chan took her to her apartment and stayed with her as she slept.

When she opened her eyes, she found Felix sitting on a chair beside her bed, asleep. Her stitches hurt, and she sat up for some water. Felix woke up with a start and sighed in relief as he saw her.

'How are you feeling?' He asked, placing a hand on her cheek.

'Drowsy. But ok, I guess.' Y/N mumbled and shw accepted the glass of water he offered her.

'I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help at the time, darling. I should've known-'

'Felix, please don't say that. Thank you for being here right now.' Y/N said with a smile. 'Can I ask for something?'

'Of course.' Felix said.

'I want to speak to Hyunjin. Can you ask him to come by? If it's ok for him?' Y/N asked.

'Well, if it's anything, he's already here.' Felix said with a shrug. 'I'll send him over.'

Hyunjin came running, his face red and eyes swollen. He started crying all over again. And Y/N started crying.

'I'm so sorry. I didn't realize what I was doing. I was so jealous. When Felix told me he had a crush on you, I was so jealous. I wanted to punish you. And everything Hana told me felt true because I was so angry. I didn't even think. I am such an idiot. You must hate me now. I have never felt so ashamed in my life before.' He ranted, crying. 'I don't deserve you. No, no, you deserve so much better. I can't believe I let her do this to you. I can't believe this happened!'

'Hyunjin. Hyunjin. HYUNJINNIE!' Y/N snapped and Hyunjin fell silent, just his sobs remained. 'Hyunjin, I don't hate you. I am disappointed. But I can never hate you. I really hate your girlfriend, though. I feel repulsed when I think of her.'

Hyunjin nodded, still crying.

'Are you going to break up with me now?' Hyunjin asked.

'Break up?' Y/N asked, frowning.

'Yeah. Am I not your best friend anymore?' Hyunjin mumbled, wiping at his tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

'I should be the one asking you that. You won't talk to me at all. I understand getting into a relationship changes things a little, but you let it get out of hand, Hyunjin. You stopped talking to me. Did you break up with me?' Y/N asked softly.

'I didn't know what to say to you after you showed up at Minho hyung's party that day. I was so ashamed of myself. Hana and I ended up fighting and I dropped her home. I wanted to come to you, but Chan hyung said I shouldn't 'coz you were upset. And then I was so jealous when I saw that Felix got to spend so much time with you before we left.' He sighed and sniffed. 'And Minho hyung was so mad, he said a LOT of things to me. I couldn't reach out to you during our tour because I felt like shit for the way I treated you.'

Y/N remained silent, the memories weighing down on her shoulders.

'I couldn't help but feel resentful for the fact that you like Felix back. I heard Minho and Chan hyung talking about it one day... They said you would say yes to Felix... And I felt like I would lose you forever.' He said, another sob leaving his lips.

Y/N's heart squeezed in pain, seeing him cry.

'I am lucky to have you Y/N. I have always loved you and nothing will change that. You deserve Felix, he's literally an angel.' Hyunjin smiled for the first time that day.

'Hyunjin.' Y/N touched his hand. 'I can't ever break up with you. Ok? You're like a part of me. What would I do without you?'

Hyunjin hugged her gently, more tears escaping his eyes.

'I love you, Hyunjinnie.' Y/N whispered, ruffling his hair. 'Stop crying ok? I'm not mad. I will even forgive Hana for you if that's what you really want.'

'I don't want that.' Hyunjin said sitting straight. 'I broke up with her.'

'Oh. I'm sorry-'

'No no. I'm relieved. You're my best friend, Y/N. I want someone who can accept that. Ok? No more psychos.' Hyunjin said with a sad sigh. 'I am a bit disappointed that I didn't think of dating you. I'm so incredibly jealous of Felix.'

'Yah!' Y/N said, blushing. 'Why would you say that?!'

'What? You're the most beautiful and most caring girl I know! I also know that I love you, the whole best friends things just stopped me from thinking that we could have something more.' Hyunjin pouted.

'Hyunjinnie, I love you ok? We don't have to be my boyfriend for me to love you or care for you! I've stood by you no matter what right? I want you to know that you'll always be my best boy.' Y/N said, taking his hand in her's.

'Promise?' Hyunjin asked, his eyes filling up with tears again. 'Even if you decide to date Felix?'

'I promise.' Y/N said with a smile.

'So... Felix?' He said, and he had the nerve to wiggle his eyebrows at her teasingly.

'Oh, shut up' Y/N said, rolling her eyes. 'I look like a troll with these bandages. I'm so embarrassed to even be in front of him. He's so...nice... '

'Yah, he's whipped for you. Hell, even I'm a little whipped for you, right now. Taking all of this like it's nothing.' Hyunjin's face softened.

Y/N blushed, giving him a nervous laugh.

'You think he's whipped for me?' Y/N asked, earning a laugh from Hyunjin.

'You don't even know how much!' He teased.

'Good, because I am sure I feel the same.'

Hyunjin laughed, hugging her again.

'Well, you should tell him that.' He said, standing up.

Y/N quickly grabbed his hand and he stopped, giving her an expectant look.

'We're good, right?' Y/N asked. 'Hyunjin, please be honest with me. Are you ok with me and Felix? I need you to promise me that it won't affect us.'

'Darling, if I am honest, I do feel a bit bad about losing you to Felix, but that's what I deserve for the things I did. And the things I kept unsaid. But, I am really happy for you and Felix. I will always be by your side. I'm never letting you go again. Never. Not for anyone.' Hyunjin said and leaned down to press a kiss on her cheek. 'Besides, if we're meant to be, it'll happen on its own. For now, I'll just support you with whatever you want. Ok?'

Hyunjin winked at her and Y/N couldn't help but think that she saw a different sort of determination in Hyunjin's eyes. He put his hand in his pocket and brought out her pendant. But she saw that the chain wasn't hers. She voiced it out to him.

'I changed it. This is mine, I want you to have it. If you still want to wear it, that is' Hyunjin said, holding it out to her.

'Why did you change it?' Y/N asked softly.

'Because the other one was...it had blood on it and it's all my fault and it felt wrong to ask you to wear it again-' Hyunjin said, hanging his head.

'It's just blood, I really don't mind' Y/N said.

'I do mind though' Hyunjin said. 'Do you have a problem with wearing mine? It's not the first time we shared our things.'

'It's nothing like that' Y/N said. 'I'll wear it as soon as my bandage come out, ok?'

She took the necklace from him.

'Shall I send Felix in?' Hyunjin asked, his sweet smile back in place.

'Ok' Y/N said, nodding.

Felix came in with a smile. Sitting next to her on the bed, Felix looked at her.

'You wanted to talk?' He asked.

'Yeah. We have something to talk about, remember?' Y/N's voice shook a little.

Felix nodded.

'I know this is a hard time, you don't have to-'

'Felix. I want to, ok? Please, I need to.' Y/N said and Felix nodded in understanding.

'Go ahead, sweetheart.' he said.

'Um..er...'

Felix suppressed his laughter and gave her an amused look.

'Oh my God.' Y/N covered her face with her hands.

Felix laughed, and she had to join in, wincing in pain as her stitched pulled at her skin a little.

'Ow ow oww.' she cried, and Felix looked terrified for a minute.

'Sorry sorry sorry!' He said, 'shit, I'm sorry!'

'What are you apologizing for?' Y/N asked. 'For making me laugh after a particularly traumatic day?'

Felix smiled.

'You're so cute.' he said, running his thumb along her cheek.

'You're cuter.' Y/N said, blushing.

'I'm cute?' Felix asked.

'As if you didn't know that already.' Y/N said, looking down at her hands.

'Its nice to hear you say it.' Felix said, his cheeks a pretty pink. 'You drive me insane, you know that I just want to-'

He stopped speaking and moved closer to Y/N.

'So? What did you want to tell me, hm?' He asked, his voice so low and husky, Y/N wanted to die right there.

'Um... '

'Look at me babe.'

'Oh my God.'

Y/N turned her head to face Felix. He was so close. His nose, just a few centimeters away from her nose. His felt his breath on her lips and just wanted to faint with all the excitement. Their eyes met and he kept glancing down at her lips.

'Say it already.' he whispered. 'Please?'

'I think I'm in love with you too.' Y/N said in a small voice. 'No, I don't think... I know that I love you.'

Felix just kept looking for a few seconds before he leaned forward and lips brushing against her's, he asked 'Can I?'

'Please-'

Felix placed a soft kiss against her lips. So soft, but so so so warm and comforting.

'I've wanted to do that for so long.' He whispered, placing tiny pecks on her lips over and over again.

Y/N smiled, her vision blurring. This was the best she had felt in the past few months.

Felix just smiled as he wiped the tears off her cheeks gently.

'I won't let you cry again.' He said. 'I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere.'

Y/N nodded and melted into his arms as he pulling her into his chest.

Just then, the door flew open and Minho marched in.

'Ohhhh, when do I get a turn, huh? You two are hogging her ALL THE TIME!' he whined.

Still hugging her, Felix mouthed a curse at him.

'That's how it is then?' Minho said and called out for Chan and Hyunjin who came in laughing. They were all on the bed in a second. Minho forced himself in between the couple and wrapped his arms around Y/N. Chan did the same from the other side. Hyunjin felt shy, but he put his head on her lap, sealing her away from Felix.

'Are you serious right now!?' Felix groaned as the boys laughed. 'You gotta work for her affection, Yongbokie' Minho sang, pecking her cheek. 'Till then, go bring us something to eat.'

[daceydeath]

Claims

Pairing: Changbin x Reader Word Count: 0.7K Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, swearing, explicit content

This is a very late requested/inspired one for @thotracha inspired by this

Changbin can get a little jealous over things you don't even notice.

You thought visiting him would be exactly that, just a visit. You would sit in their designated room surrounded by the other guys laughing, probably eating and surrounded by various staff. But this time it was distinctly different this time the air felt electric and his dark eyes pierced you the moment you entered the room.

"Hi baby" you smiled, head quirking slightly to silently ask him what was up.

"Bunny, you made it" he announced playfully the tone not at all matching his face. You weaved your way between the makeup artists and stylists to him only for him to pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around you, his hands rougher with you than usual. Burring his head into your neck trying to maintain his usual behaviors he decided to let you in on his mood.

"Fuck, I need you bunny" he almost growled lowly against your skin "When were alone I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk". A shiver of anticipation crawled up your spine making you lick your lips.

You chatted and laughed as you waited for the point in time when you were finally alone with Changbin, his words having already lit a fire in you that you couldn't ignore fighting in your spot on his lap he occasionally changed your position to help hide the semi that you could feel pressed against your arse.

As soon as the staff were breaking for dinner Chan, conveniently, corralled the guys into also leaving, giving Changbin his time alone with you. Within moments he was practically ripping the fabric of your shirt to get it off your body, fueled by whatever insatiable lust he had been trying to hide from the others, making you yelp at the force he was using.

"Binnie you're going to tear them" you protested quietly his lips trying to silence your own as he tore your underwear almost in half in his haste.

"I'll buy you more bunny" he grunted, placing you on your knees on the couch and swiping the head of his thick cock through your wetness, coating himself enough to start pressing himself inside you. You keened at the sensation wiggling slightly to pull away from him not prepped enough to take his length yet

"nuh huh bunny you can take it" he moaned continuing to bottom out inside your velvet walls.

"Fuck Changbin ah ah... I can't....ah too much" you gasped, his thrusts were hard enough to knock the air from your lungs, his thick cock making you feel like you were being split in two but no longer trying to move away from him.

"Shit... so fucking tight bunny" he grunted "So good to me bunny, so fucking good letting me fuck you like this".

"Changbin" you whined, one of his hands moving to start circling your clit groaning as he felt a wave of your juices soak his cock dripping from you onto his thighs.

"Fuck bunny your going to kill me" he groaned the sound of slick skin slapping against skin the only noise in the room other then your whines and his harsh breathing.

"Bin, I can't" you sobbed the pleasure overwhelming you as he just continued to punch into your velvet walls.

"You can bunny and you will" he ground out his fingers pinching you clit sharply making your walls begin to flutter around him "Fuck there you go bunny".

Ah...Ngh...Fuck you almost screamed as you came undone around him making him growl and reach his own peak you walls milking him dry. He slowly pulled out of you grabbing a towel from his bag to clean you up enough to get you dressed again as you flopped bonelessly on the chair trying to regain your breath.

"What has gotten into you today" you finally croaked your voice hoarse.

"Too many idols looking at you" he smirked "Had to show them you're mine bunny".

"What?" you almost laughed "No one looks at me baby, only you". He smiled softly and kissed your temple.

A/N: Thank you for reading, all your comments, reblogs and likes are incredible. I have a special 2k follower story coming but I haven't finished it yet xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @bakedlilgoonie, @krishastumblernow, @mrsseals16, @fawnpeaks, @leeknowinggg, @uno7, @tanzen-ist-gold

[scarofthewind]

Teach Me || Princess!Reader x Prince!Brahms

A/N: Finally got to sit down and write and this is the mess I came up with! This is part of my Princess!Reader series and for this, Brahms is a prince that is hanging out around the brothel and comes across his betrothed reader (who doesn't know him) and the rest is smut. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT, Brahms being a crazy stalker man who teacher reader how to please her new husband (it's him).

Word count: 3.2K

The Scarred Prince is what they called him. Known for being cruel and cold, killing anything that crossed him. His face adorned with a mask that covered his gruesome face, burned from a terrible fire that took half his castle and family with it. His father was a kinder man, only needing this marriage due to his home and people dying out; the funding and bringing together two families would put life into everything.

That's what your father told you as he shattered your world. Sure, you knew you had to marry, you were a beautiful Princess. However, your future husband you were unsure of. Your mother begged your father to not accept the offer, you were too important to the kingdom to be married off to such a barbarian. His decision was final.

You were to be wed to a man who you only heard horror stories about and there was nothing you could do about it.

Well, you could prepare. You assumed that with him being a foul man, he would be a rough lover and if there was one thing a marriage led to, it was consummation. Your mother and maids had given you brief information about how to please a man, always saying that it was more pleasurable for them than you. You needed to learn how to please such a man; if he thought you couldn't do it, he might kill you.

With your mind made up, you slipped on your coat, pulling the hood up to cover your face. You managed to slip out of castle by creeping through the shadows and soon you were stepping out onto the street. The night life was bright as those who favored darkness moved about; your eyes scanning building as you passed them. The place you seeked was in a secluded area a few streets away from the castle gates, curtains for an entrance and candles for light. Hesitantly, you reached out to push open the silk curtains but they opened for you, a beuatiful women greeting you with a smile.

"Princess, are you lost?" Her red lips smiled and you noticed how low cut her dress was, breasts spilling out over the top.

"Actually, I am here for help." You whispered, letting her usher you inside. Immediately, you grew hot. The smell of sex and smoke in the air along with perfume, men and women frolicked around naked and carefree. Some were fucking and some were more passionate and it was all beautiful and new. "I am to be wed and I don't know what I am doing. How do I please him?"

The woman nodded with a smile, "I understand, I was new to this once. Must be a bit shocking for you." You nodded and reached into your coat pocket, pulling out a small pouch of coins.

"I appreciate your secrecy. No one can know I was here." You handed the woman the pouch and she took it gently, stuffing it beside her breast.

"Of course, Princess. Right this way." She took one of your hands and led you carefully through the building. Private rooms were all around you but you could hear everything. Moans and grunts, skin slapping against skin, laughing and even yelling. Your body felt hot, arousal pooling in your stomach just from what you could sense around you; you could understand why people came to places like this.

"Here, there is someone I think could help you with your problem right behind these curtains." The woman stopped in front of a private area and you felt your heart race. You froze for a second, not sure if you should continue. The woman noticed and gave your shoulder a pat. "You'll be okay. He is new as well. He can not hurt you, it's against the rules and if he breaks those, I'll have him thrown out." With a large breath, you nodded and reached for the curtains, pushing them open and stepping inside the small space.

Your heart stopped as the curtains fell closed behind you.

"Well this is interesting," The man's voice was deeper than you expected as he leaned forward in his spot on the cushion pile. "Does daddy know his princess is out this late, and at a place such as this?" His tone made your eye twitch and you removed your hood, stepping further into the room.

"I need to learn how to please a man. Thought I would come to the best teachers." You unsnapped your coat button and shrugged the wool off, tossing it to the side and sitting down across from the man. Your eyes met his and you sucked in a breath. "Why the mask?"

Curly hair poked out around the porcelain mask strapped to his face as bright, predatory eyes stared you down. "Maybe you aren't the only one hiding something, Princess."

You hummed in response. "Fine. So, can you teach me or not?"

The man moved closer to you and reached out, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I wonder how much you can truly handle." You shivered and jerked back, a chuckle leaving his lips. "First things first, depending on your betrothed, he will either want you to be naked before he comes knocking on your door, or" he paused, tracing a finger down your neck. "He'll strip you himself."

"What would you do?" You asked, his eyes snapping back to yours. He felt himself smile at your words, playing right into his hands.

Brahms, a prince known to be cruel and hideous, hid behind his mask as he planned all the ways he could ruin his future wife. The minute he found out you were to be his, he snuck into your town and began watching you. Beautiful and eager to live your life to the fullest. He was entertained by you; so, when he was you slip out into the night with one destination in mind, he followed.

He had slipped into the back while you mingled with the owner, disposed of the man who usually ran the room you were in now and acted in his stead. Brahms would be damned if someone else got to fuck you before him. His fingertips moved along the neckline of your dress as he replied, "I'd peel these clothes off you with my fucking teeth." Your goosebumps and the way you sucked in a breath made his cock twitch against his pants.

"The lace on the back is easily undone." You pushed him with your words, your eyes drifting down his bare torso litered with dark brown hair and muscle. “Undress me, Sir.”

“Brahms,” he growled, reaching behind your back to yank you closer to him. His fingers worked on the ties to your dress, loosening it and slowly pushing it off you. “When you come later, you will call me Brahms, understand, Princess?”

You nodded quickly, chest heaving as he exposed your top half to the warm air, your nipples pebbling in the process. “Lie back.” He commanded and you obeyed, your back meeting soft pillows as he moved the dress down your body, throwing it across the room when he got it off. Brahms crawled over you, stopping as he met your eyes. “Some men don’t take care of their lady wives. Using them as things that make their heirs and that’s all. I don’t believe in that.”

“What do you believe in?”

“Passion.” He answered quickly, running his hands down your sides. “Both parties need to be satisfied or it is a failed fuck. A woman has so much to offer other than a child.” His eyes scanned over your body, thumbs gently tracing your nipples. “You came here to learn how to please your husband. Have you ever considered that he needs to be the one pleasing you?”

“You speak of things that aren’t likely. My betrothed is known for being evil.” Your words made Brahms sit back, placing his hands on your knees and spreading your legs to slot himself between.

“You don’t know him, only of him. He’d be lucky to touch your beautiful body.” He said as he reached to remove your panties. His mind pushed back the negative thoughts that whirled around as he saw just how aroused you were.

“After undressing, I like to touch here. It eases the pain for when my cock enters.” Brahms spoke gently as his fingertips traced along your pussy. His eyes never left your face, taking in your unsure expressions as his fingers entered you carefully. He watched as your mouth opened with a breathy gasp; a mouth so perfect he'd nearly come thinking about how it would feel around his cock.

"Are all men this experienced?" You asked innocently and when Brahms chuckled you felt a heat of embarrassment wash over you. His fingers slowly moving inside your cunt made you clench your thighs, only for him to shove them back open.

"No," was all he said in response, this thumb flicking over your clit and making you jump at the sensation. "How does it feel Princess?" His words made you moan as he angled his fingers towards a spot inside you that had you trembling.

"It feels fine, but I've done this myself," pushing back you sit up slightly, watching Brahms tilt his head in confusion. "I came here looking for something I cannot do on my own." Once you clarify your words, you hear a snort from the man before you.

"I was trying to be a gentleman and treat you softly," he sighed, reaching to unlace his bottoms, pushing them down to let his cock free. Your eyes followed as he pumped his length a few times before leaning back on the pillows; an invitation. "You want to please your husband? Suck his cock."

If you weren't hot already, you were now as you moved towards him. His cold eyes followed your every move, and you found yourself entranced by the pure power he held within them. A hand came up to your face, brushing your hair away and using a thumb to trace your bottom lip. With trembling fingers, you placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscle and hair there, running them up and down. "Are you afraid, Princess?" He asks suddenly, your eyes snapping back to his.

"No. Just unsure." At your words, Brahms takes one of your hands and guides it to his cock, hard and soft under your palm. You swear you can hear a soft breath come from under his mask, but you push the thought aside as you wrap your fingers around his base. Sliding down to become more comfortable, you look closely at how perfect his cock was. Pale and long with a soft pink tip that you found yourself leaning towards to kiss. Your lips found his cock to be soft and when you wrapped them around his cockhead, a subtle salty flavor welcomed your tastebuds.

"Gods Princess, I think you were made to do this." Brahms groaned, running his hands through your hair and nudging you down to take more of his cock. He watched intensely as you sucked more of him down, his cock disappearing into the warm walls of your mouth. Brahms could only keep his composure for so much longer; he ached to fuck you and at this point, he was trying his hardest not to snap.

His mask was getting hot against his face as he groaned and breathed warm air out of his lungs. It itched to be ripped off, but he couldn't remove it; not yet.

Your jaw began to ache as minutes went by with you taking his cock and you felt your cunt grow wetter by the second. Your clit swollen with need and your walls clenching around nothing. Swatting his hand from your hair, you removed your mouth from around his member and sat up. No smart remarks were said, both of you feeling beyond aroused and needy in this moment. Brahms grabbed your hips and tugged you against him, your hands bracing on his chest as you straddled his lap.

You found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck but the minute you tried touching the ties to the mask on the back of his head, you were shoved down on your back, Brahms following on top of you. Rough hands pinned your wrists to the ground as he nuzzled his cock against your pussy. "Not yet." He said deeply, letting you go once you nodded in understanding.

When he gently pushed into you, you felt yourself go absolutely still. Nothing could have prepared you for the warmth or the fullness you felt as he sunk into you. Your fingers gripped the pillows under you tightly and Brahms paused, noticing this. He rubbed your hips and legs, pulling them around his waist. "The pressure goes away quickly, just breathe, (Y/N)." Your eyes locked on his and for the first time in your life, you felt sure of something. This stranger before you didn't baby you or belittle you like the others at the castle or the friends you grew up around. He treated you like a normal person, not royalty.

"I hope by husband is kind to me during this moment," your eyes watered slightly, and Brahms felt himself swell with pride knowing you felt comfortable around him throughout this.

"He will be." He assured you, pressing his hips against you and groaning at the feeling of your pussy taking his cock fully. Brahms waited for a moment to let you adjust before rocking his hips. The sounds that immediately came from your mouth were music to his ears. "Fuck, your beautiful." He moaned, watching the way your breasts bounced with each thrust. His mouth needed to be on you, he was going to lose his mind if he couldn't.

"Close your eyes." He grunted, not pausing his movements.

"Why-"

"Just do it," he snapped, and you did, your senses heightening as you welcomed the darkness behind your eyelids. It was quiet for a second and a small thud had you opening your mouth to ask a question but before you could, a mouth crashed onto yours.

With the porcelain wall gone, his lips were rough on yours and the beard he had scratched along your face, but it felt wonderful. His soft lips molding with yours, his tongue moving in your mouth and his cock ruining you for anyone else had you melting against him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him flush against you, his thrusts picking up in strength and your moans and gasps being swallowed by his mouth. "Brahms," you moaned, your voice making his cock twitch.

"Not yet," he growled, moving off of you and rolling you on your stomach, his cock re-entering you faster than you could comprehend what was happening. His breath was hot on your neck as his teeth marked you, his fingers moving down to your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between them.

"I need to cum," you panted, wanting to feel the wave of euphorira you longed for this while evening. You felt your cunt clenche around his length as it pumped into you harshly, lewd sounds of skin on skin and the melody of voices experiencing pleasure made your head dizzy. "Brahms please," you begged, taking one of his hands from your breast and pushing it to your clit.

Unsure of why he wasn't responding, you felt yourself look back and you immediately froze. You weren't sure if it was fear or excitement or confusion but the man fucking you was the man you had thought to fear. The bright color of his eyes was intense, almost scary, as he looked down on you. There was no mistaking the scar on his face and who he was. "You."

Your voice was so soft, he could barely hear you. Brahms watched as you stared at him, not moving a muscle, but you didn't run. Slowing down his thrusts, he sighed and pushed his hair from his face. "I couldn't let your first time be with a random man whore. You're my wife-"

"Soon to be, not yet." You pointed out, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You felt Brahms' fingers tighten on your hips in reaction to your words.

"You are mine either way. Today or next week, you are mine and will be until you die. You wanted to learn, and I was just lucky to be in the neighborhood. What if you had gotten a disease or pregnant from a commoner? I saved you from those vile things, Princess." He spoke with a sharp tongue and you felt yourself tingle with uncertainty.

He had his points but that didn't stop a dark and strange feeling from creeping up your spine. A soft hand on your cheek made you look at him. "I will never hurt you. I didn't do this to hurt you, only to protect you." You didn't believe him fully, but you moved to where you were on your back again, pulling him against your front. If he was barbaric, it was best to play along rather than fight.

"Thank you, my Prince." Your words sent Brahms' head spinning and he leaned down to kiss you, hips moving again to chase the high you both needed.

While he kissed along the column of your neck and down to your nipples, sucking on them tenderly, you thought of all the things that this man had probably done with the same hands he was using to bring you closer to your climax. You were just a Princess, you couldn't do anything to object this marriage and with how he felt while fucking you, you weren't sure if you wanted to fight. If he really was the Scarred Prince everyone said he was, he didn't show you, at least not tonight.

"Brahms," you whined as his fingers rubbed against your clit, building the pressure in your stomach until you were pulsing around his as you came. Your body twitched against his and he didn't stop his motions until he had you coming again, this time while he followed. Neither of you moved for a while afterwards, his cock softening inside you and your heart racing in your chest.

Brahms spoke first, "I might need to get you back to the castle, Princess. I'm sure a search party would be sent out soon." As he moved away from you, he felt your hands reach out and cup his face.

"Not yet. I still have to learn a few things." You said with laugh, gently tracing the edge of his scarred face.

Brahms chuckled, shaking his head and kissing your palm. "We have our whole life together. I will teach you more when we are married." Pulling you against him, he pressed his lips to yours again, kissing you as if you gave him life.

A sudden scream had you pulling away from one another and Brahms felt himself smile and he yanked you both to your feet. They must've found the poor bastard's body, he thought. "We need to get you home now, (Y/N)."

"What's happening?" You asked worried as he helped you slip your dress back on, stuffing your panties in his pocket.

"Probably a fight. Let's go out the back." He said, quickly getting dressed and pulling you with him into the night.

[kozachenko]

[Click for better quality]

OK finally back with some more drawings! Since Touhou 17 is approaching it's 5 year anniversary soon, I wanted to draw at least one of the charatcers (hopefully I'll still be motivated to draw Keiki lol) and I had some ideas for Saki and I've never drawn her before, so that's how we got here!

Artist's Notes;

So after doing some drawings of my OCs (who I will reveal upon a later date since I still wanna finalize their designs) and finally getting out of my art funk that I've been in for a while, I started off this drawing with the mentality of "oh yeah I'm just gonna put together this quick outfit for Saki and I won't bother rendering it"

...and then I did but to be honest I am very happy I did because oh my god clothes are so fun to render for me now. I remembered the technique I used on my drawing of Reimu and applied that here. That technique being using triangles to imply shadows and highlights in clothing and then blending out those shadows to give the clothing some three dimensionality. My favourite things that I rendered in this piece were the gloves, hat and the belt buckle (since I applied a technique for rendering gold and metal objects that I remember seeing/hearing about a while ago). Don't get me wrong, I love how all the clothing turned out in this piece but the gloves are the real standout of this piece to me. I also had some fun with the cowboy boots (I couldn't figure out how to make those cool metal star things work on the boots though that is a sin I fully intend to fix later down the line) since when I looked at references for them I noticed how some of them had these intricate details embroidered (?) onto them.

Also, in the earliest phases of this drawing Saki had this really big black coat that I decided to get rid of later down the line because it really does not work with her fighting style and it did not stand out against her wings, and the logistics of her getting said jacket with her wings on confused me. Like, I can kind of imaging that on her shirt she has a little open spot for her wings that she can just put them in. That goes for Yachie to but now I'm even more confused because all her clothes must need some open backs because of her shell??? Which raises some more questions, like, can she just never be on her back when sleeping??? Looking at Yuuma we can see that the beast yakuza in Touhou can freely change their form from human to beast so can Yachie just double down on the human bit and get rid of her shell temporarily so she can sleep comfortably??? Because if she lays on her back is she just kinda wobbling around like most turtles are when they're on their backs? Can she hypothetically retreat into her shell, if so that has some weird implications to how her anatomy works. Like, what does her skeleton look like? Seriously, what are the logistics here WHERE DOES YACHIE GET HER FUCKING CLOTHES BECAUSE THEY PROBABLY NEED TO BE SPECIFICALLY TAILORED SO SHE CAN PUT IT ON TO FIT HER SHELL I DON'T NEED SLEEP I NEED ANSWERS YACHIE WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS-

....rant aside, you can see the remnants of this idea in the tattered back of her... idk what to call it but I know she has a variant of this in her OG design. I mainly wanted to test this out because of the cursed realization that The Ghoul in Fallout Prime is just a male Saki but if Utsuho gave Saki radiation poisoning. No seriously, they're smug ass cowboys who are so sure of their own strength that have fought at least one mechanically engineered robot in some variation of a wasteland with an affinity for dogs. I'm now morbidly curious as to what would happen if you put the two of them in a room together. Would they try to kill each other? Would they become besties? Would they try to kill each other and then become besties? Who knows. But yeah jokes aside the tattered cloth was a design choice that was inspired by The Ghoul from Fallout Prime because y'know, same vibes. And also because yes I do love Fallout Prime and I am so ready for season two IT'S SO GOOD GO WATCH IT EVEN IF YOU AREN'T FAMILIAR WITH FALLOUT AS A SEIRES GO DO IT NOW, SAIL THE SEVEN SEAS FOR IT IF YOU HAVE TO JUST WATCH IT-

I knew for Saki's face I wanted to give her some thick eyebrows, it just makes sense. I also wanted to give her some scarring on her face because she's a crime boss, why wouldn't she have scars? I also had some fun with her little horse ear that's sticking out from the side of her hat since it would kinda look weird if she just had no ears period. I also went ham on stylizing her ponytail into this weird swirl, since if I were to show you some of my recent doodles from my sketchbook you would notice that that has become a common motiffe in some of my art. I don't know why but I just like it. Saki's wings were also very fun, I found a good reference for bird wings that are specifically shaped for high speeds (though I did add some stylistic touches so her one wing that's out wouldn't look like a big blob) since her whole thing is speed. From very early on in the process I knew that I wanted Saki to not look skinny, so I found some refs of female kickboxers for her legs and noticed that while parts of their upper body are maybe a bit toned, it's the legs that have a lot of power. I mainly did this because kicking is a huge part of her fighting style.

Overall, I'm really happy with this drawing, and once Touhou 17's anniversary rolls around I do want to go more in depth on my thoughts in the game, it's themes, and how the animal realm functions as a dark parallel to Gensokyo in many ways. I'll also have to get around to drawing Yachie and Keiki as well (if I still have the time and motivation to do so) since I have some ideas for their designs that I'm very excited to draw (especially Keiki).

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 3: Noise

You start getting to know Jackson - and yourself. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-2 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Attempted SA (not completed). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 6.5k 

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Electricity had a sound. 

You’d never noticed it before but that had to be what it was. The buzzing. 

It felt loud in the small room, a constant whine that made your ears ring. Everything here was loud, it was so fucking loud. The people on the street outside, the sound of the lights and the power humming in the walls, the tick of a clock in the corner. 

Was the world always this fucking loud before? Were you just numb to it before? 

You closed your eyes and crossed your arms tight over your body. You were still in that man’s coat. Your legs were freezing, feet numb. Your fingers were starting to defrost and they hurt but your stomach felt oddly numb. The wetness of your blood was there against your skin but the pain wasn’t there. It should be but it wasn’t. You didn’t know if that was good or bad. 

“You’re a hard woman to keep track of.” 

You jumped back, away from the voice, eyes flying open, arms flying out and hands groping for something - anything - you could use for a weapon. 

“Woah, you’re OK,” there was a woman in front of you. She was older than you - you thought, anyway, you weren’t quite sure what year it was - and she had a gentle, kindly look to her. Her hands were up in front of her, empty except for a pen, a notepad tucked below her arm. “Not going to hurt you, you’re OK.” 

That seemed like bullshit. Everything in this fucking town seemed like bullshit, none of it made any goddamn sense. Your eyes darted but there wasn’t much here. It reminded you of a doctor’s office waiting room. A few couches, a coffee table with some books and old magazines on it - the kind of magazines your mom would put out, not the ones she’d actually read, shit with short stories and pictures of landscapes in it. Nothing you could really use as a weapon. Your best hope would be running. 

You should have just left when you had the fucking horse, you shouldn’t have listened to that man. It didn’t matter that he seemed strangely familiar and safe and beautiful you should have listened to your fucking gut and run, had you learned nothing since the outbreak? You don’t trust people, that’s how you get fucking killed or worse. People were dangerous, people were so fucking dangerous. 

And now you were in a town full of them. 

“Can you talk?” The woman asked, her brows raised, hands still up. 

“Yes I can fuckin’ talk,” you kept backing up until you were flush with the wall behind you. God this was fucking stupid how had you been this goddamn stupid? “Do I look like a moron to you?” 

“Absolutely not,” she said kindly. She was talking to you the way you talked with wild horses. Like she was trying to keep you from lashing out or taking off. “You just seem scared and like you’ve been through a lot. Sometimes people aren’t able or willing to talk after things like that and that’s OK.” 

“I’m fine,” you snapped. “Just need to get out of here…” 

“OK,” she said. “I can help you with that. Let me just take a look at where you’re bleeding and we can get you out of here, sound good?” 

“Why.” 

The woman frowned. 

“Why what?” 

“Why do you want to see where I’m bleedin’,” you asked. You were starting to feel the pain in your stomach. Your head was light, vision fuzzy on the edges. “What do you want with me?” 

“Just want to help you,” she said. “Promise. If you don’t get in bed soon I’m guessing you’re not going to have much say in the matter, you’d lost a lot of blood when you came in and you’re losing more. You’re going to pass out if you’re not careful. So just let me help you, that’s all I want to do.” 

She was right. You knew enough about keeping yourself alive that you knew when you were close to passing out and you weren’t far off from it. You couldn’t stay on your feet much longer, not without help. 

Help this woman was apparently offering. For whatever fucking reason. 

You tried to think of another option but your brain was fuzzy, too. Slow and sluggish, like working your way through the well worn pathways of survival in your head suddenly required swimming through Jell-o. 

But you wouldn’t survive if you tried to run now. Even if no one ran you down, you’d pass out in the snow and freeze in hours at best. That’s assuming no one else got their hands on you first. It was better to give in to whatever these people wanted and escape when you were stronger. Then you’d have a chance at making it. You’d stolen a horse once, you could do it again. And you doubted anything they were going to do to you here was going to be any worse than other shit you’d managed to live through. 

“You can look,” you said, relaxing back from the wall a bit so you were no longer clinging to the wood. 

“Thank you,” she smiled a little. “Come with me? It’ll be easier if you’re in my exam room. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

You didn’t trust that. You couldn’t afford to trust that. 

But she was probably in her late 60s, smaller than you and definitely weaker. Even injured, you could overpower her. That made it better. 

You didn’t say anything, you just nodded and followed behind her a small room with a padded table in the middle. She set out a step stool and patted the end of it. 

“Can you hop on up for me and lie back?” She asked. You kept your eye on her as you obeyed. You might be in here with this woman but you weren’t about to turn your back on her. The table was cold on your bare legs and you found yourself oddly thankful to the man who’d given you his jacket. You didn’t understand that either. “Just going to…” 

The woman opened the front of the coat and lifted the shirt, making you stiffen. She gingerly touched near your injuries and you tried not to flinch. 

“You pushed it too hard, honey,” she said, smiling a little sadly at you. “I’m going to need to repack these and you need to actually take it easy for a while, OK?” 

You looked back toward the ceiling and didn’t respond. 

“Let me know if something I do hurts too much, we can take a break,” she said, going to a cabinet and coming back with a tray of shiny medical equipment. She set to work around your stomach and your fingers dug into the cuffs of the man’s coat, the wool and leather of it comforting to the touch. “Want to tell me your name? I’m Carol Livingston, the doctor here in Jackson…” 

“What do you want my name for?” You clenched your jaw as you felt her pull something out of you. “What was that?” 

“Gauze,” she held up a wad of bloody fabric in a pair of tiny tongs. “Can’t stitch up a gunshot wound, had to try and make sure we’d cut off the source of major bleeding and then pack it for a bit while it healed. If you don’t do things like climb out a window and take off on a horse, it’s usually pretty effective. And I’d like your name so I know what to call you. Start a file for you since you’re here now, all that.” 

“A file?” You hissed it as she pulls more gauze from you. 

“Sorry honey,” she said. “Almost done. And yes, a file. You’re old enough, you remember before, you must have gone to some doctors, they had records. Going to flush this with water now, stay still for me, OK?” 

“I remember before,” you gritted your teeth and tried to think about something besides what she was doing to you.

“It’s important to have a medical history,” she said, sounding a little distracted. “And to keep track we need a name. Going to put more gauze in now, almost done…” 

It had been years since anyone knew your name. You hadn’t given it to anyone in decades.

The last time had been 2003. September 27, 2003, to be precise. 

Just a few days into the outbreak and you were already disoriented and uncertain about how much time had passed. But the first day was easy to remember. You rode Nike until she was foaming at the mouth, pushing her far harder than you should have. But you didn’t have another choice.

You stopped at a ranch, one that seemed quiet and still now. There were bodies, though. Flies were on them, gaping wounds in their chests and stomachs. One had a bite at their neck like Justin did. 

The ranch was big, one you recognized from the summer tourist season and taking rich people who wanted to pretend they were roughing it on trail rides. There should have been a lot of people here but they were gone. 

You were still quiet, guiding Nike slowly to the paddock, eyes wide open as you waited for someone - something - to come for you. Nothing did. 

You got off Nike for the first time since you’d left home, opening the gate and letting her in. The trough was dry and a horse in the corner lifted its head from where it was grazing to look at you, not paying you much mind. You looked around for a moment and found a water spigot and refilled the trough before pulling the gun from the waistband of your panties. The metal had all but carved a spot in your skin from where you’d been bent over it, clinging to Nike as you fled the chaos and the death. You crept toward the bunkhouse, so like the ones you’d fled hours before, when it was still dark. 

Pickings were slim when it came to clothes. You were the only woman rancher where you’d come from and there had been no women working on your parents’ ranch when you were a girl. You checked a few rooms at the bunk house before you spotted the main house through a window. If there was a woman living here - your best shot at finding pants and boots that fit - it would be there. 

You crept over the open land, gun in front of you and aimed at the ground, the sharpness of the earth snagging on your feet. The main door to the house was open and the table in the entry was overturned, broken glass from what looked like was once a bowl scattered across the ground. You tiptoed around it, hoping you didn’t cut your feet too badly, and went upstairs, whole body tense. 

It didn’t take long to find the bedrooms. There was a teenaged girl living here, one who looked like she was a bit younger than you judging by the posters on the wall and the canopy over her bed, but not much smaller than you. You raided her closet, focusing on things that could be a little tight but would still work - t-shirts and sweatpants. You emptied a backpack that had been tossed in the corner onto her bed and started packing. 

You found the master bedroom next. Thankfully, the rancher was married and his wife was closer to your size than his daughter. Another blessing, this rancher’s wife actually dressed like she lived on a damn ranch unlike your own mother. Her Levis were the same size you wore but a different cut than you usually went for. Her shirts would just about fit, and she had bras that were only a cup size off from your own. You got changed quickly and grabbed extras of everything. Her boots were a size too big, so you grabbed a few pairs of thick socks and layered them before putting them on. Being dressed again was a comfort. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable you’d felt because you’d been half naked, not just because you’d been attacked and everyone seemed to be losing their humanity. 

Next was the kitchen. You grabbed what non-perishables you could fit in the pack - a stash of Poptarts, cans of chili and soup - and gorged yourself on what was left in the fridge. You chugged sodas and peeled hard boiled eggs so fast that you knew you’d eaten some shell, too. You devoured the pears in the basket on the counter and added the apples to your bag before finding a canteen and filling it with water. There was a bottle of Advil in the pantry and you grabbed that, too. You tried turning on the TV in the living room, seeing if there was a news network that had information, but all that was being broadcast was an emergency alert signal, the sound so loud it made your ears ring. It said to stay inside. Like hell you were doing that. 

Overly full and no longer half naked, you made your way back toward the barn to look for tack for Nike. Once she’d had a rest, you planned to get underway again. It might be quiet now but you weren’t counting on it to stay that way. You’d feel better with some distance, at least until all this shit - whatever it was - got figured out. 

Once you were at the barn, you started at the gun safe. Lucky for you, someone had left the door hanging open in the chaos of whatever the fuck had happened the night before. There was just one weapon left - a shot gun - and some ammo. You grabbed all of it and put the ammunition and the handgun into a saddle pack you’d grabbed from the tack room. You loaded the shotgun and tucked it under your arm before you moved on.

You’d just found a saddle that would work well for both you and Nike when you heard the door creak. You spun, whipping the shotgun around into your grip, aiming it at the man standing in the doorway. He threw his hands up and froze. 

“Woah there little girl,” he said. You narrowed your eyes. “Not here to cause you any trouble…” 

“Then get the fuck out,” you said. “Shot two other men today, don’t mind makin’ you the third.” 

“You’re the one in my barn,” he said, still in the door, hands still up. “Takin’ my shit…” 

“This ain’t your ranch,” you looked him up and down. There hadn’t been a bedroom for a young man upstairs and he wasn’t old enough to have a teenaged daughter. 

“No but I work here,” he said. “Think I’m the last one left. Think that makes it mine. You’re not gonna lose your mind on me like everyone else here did, right?” 

“No,” you snapped. “Are you?” 

“Don’t think so,” he said. “But I don’t think they did, either.” 

You lowered your gun slowly, still watching him. He lowered his hands but stayed by the door. 

“That your horse out there?” He asked. “The filly?” 

“She’s mine,” you said. “Couldn’t get her tack before I left, wasn’t safe.” 

“You can take that,” he said, nodding to the saddle that you’d dropped in your haste to defend yourself from him. “Reins, bit and bridle, too. Whatever else you want… She broke enough for you to ride though?” 

You scoffed. 

“She’s dumb broke but I’m the one who got her there,” your fingers twitched on the gun. “Don’t need you fuckin’ her up for me.” 

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Just never seen a girl rancher before, let alone one who breaks horses…” 

“I’ve been breakin’ horses since I was 13,” you stuck your chin out, defensive. “And I’m a champion bronc rider, too, so I can promise I can stay on the back of an unbroken horse a lot longer than you.” 

“Alright, alright,” he smiled a little. “Not tryin’ to call your expertise into question. I’m Leo, what’s your name?” 

You clenched your jaw for a second. Part of you was telling you to run, even if you didn’t shoot him, at least get the fuck away from him. 

But you were also alone. You’d never been alone this long before. You’d moved straight from your parents house into the bunkhouse. You had your own room but there was always someone just on the other side of the wall, always someone in the barn, always someone else working with a horse or repairing a fence or mucking a stall. You’d never been truly alone, not like this. If this guy hadn’t become an inhuman monster, maybe he never would. Maybe you didn’t have to be alone. 

You gave him your name. He stepped closer. 

“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Like I said, there’s no one else here. Everyone else is dead. Don’t think there’s anyone but you and me for miles. Stay. For a bit. You and I both know your mount needs some rest, not sure where you pushed her from but you pushed her.” 

“You would too if you were in my shoes,” you snapped and then sighed. “But she could use the rest…” 

“I’m just glad to know I ain’t the only person left who wasn’t some flesh eating monster,” he laughed once. “It’ll be good. Promise.” 

It was good, for a day. Nike rested. You and Leo went through all the rooms of the bunkhouse and the main house, taking inventory. You figured the two of you could hold out there for weeks at least while the rest of the world got its shit together. Plenty of time for things to calm down and some new kind of normal set in. You could figure it out from there. 

Your second night there, Leo raided the liquor cabinet at the main house. You recognized the labels from your dad’s own stash, the thick amber liquid in heavy crystal glasses as much a part of his identity as his belt or his hat. Leo poured you a cup and you got drunk around a fire, not far from the horses, the stars bright overhead. 

It felt good. You liked it. Until Leo tried to kiss you. 

“No,” you shoved him back, twisting your body so you could put your boot in his chest if you needed to. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me.” 

“C’mon baby,” he leaned closer but stopped when you gave him a warning look. “You really gonna tell me that I might be the last man on Earth and you’re turnin’ me down?” 

“Could be the last man in the universe and I couldn’t give less of a shit,” you snapped. “If that’s what you want, I’m leavin’.” 

You got up to go but his arms flew out, his eyes wide. 

“No, please!” He was begging, pleading. “Don’t go, please don’t go. I don’t want to be on my own here, I’m sorry I did that, won’t happen again…” 

You looked at him for a moment, eyes narrowed. But he looked sorry. He sounded sorry. And you didn’t want to be alone, either. 

“It better fuckin’ not,” you said, sitting down on the ground again, putting more distance between the two of you. 

He kept his hands to himself until you woke up with his weight on top of you. You could feel him through your jeans, your wrists in his hands holding you to the ground, his mouth by your ear as he moaned your name. 

You shrieked, making him jump, lifting his head enough that you could slam your forehead into his nose. It crushed beneath your skull and he yelped, his hands leaving your wrists and flying to his face as he collapsed next to you. You scrambled away from him, going for the saddlebag and grabbing the pistol from inside it. You aimed it at him, standing over him as he sobbed, holding his face, blood on his fingers. 

“What the fuck?” He was crying, his face red. “Why’d you do that?” 

His voice was thick. 

“Told you not to fucking touch me,” you snapped, panting for breath. Your heart was pounding, you could hear your blood in your ears. You were shockingly sober after all the whiskey you’d had earlier in the night. You aimed the gun at his leg and shot him in the thigh. He screamed. “Lucky I don’t fucking kill you.” 

You grabbed the backpack and tack for Nike, hauling it outside. You kept the gun easily accessible as you saddled her up before going back into the barn for one last check for what you needed. Leo was still on the ground, clutching his leg. You sighed and got the first aid kit off the wall, throwing it at him, before you got the shot gun and some rope from the wall. You tucked the pistol into your jeans, slung the rope on your arm and aimed the shotgun at him as you made your way to the paddock again. 

“I ever see you again, I will shoot you in the head,” you said. “Understand?” 

There was a trail of blood from his nose over his mouth, his chin, staining his shirt. 

“You’re gonna die on your own out there,” he snarled. “And you’re gonna fuckin’ deserve it.” 

“Better than living here with you,” you said, leaving him alone in the barn. You opened the gate and led Nike out before closing it and mounting up, keeping the shotgun accessible.

“C’mon girl,” you gave her ribs a squeeze as you pointed her in the direction of the mountains, away from the place you’d come from. “You and me, let’s go.” 

It was the last time you’d told someone your name. It was the last time you’d heard your name said by anyone who wasn’t you. It felt dangerous, sharing it, but you sometimes said it to yourself the first few years of the outbreak. First, middle, last. Just to make sure it didn’t fade into nothing. 

You hadn’t done that in years. 

But you did then, you said all three to the doctor as she gently put gauze into your body to soak up your blood. 

“See, not so bad to share is it?” She said, smiling gently. She got out more gauze and medical tape and put it over your wounds. “There, you’re all set. Want to see?” 

You nodded and she helped you sit up and got a mirror from a cupboard, holding it in front of your stomach so you could see without needing to bend as much. 

“You were shot twice,” she said, pointing to the spots covered in clean, white gauze. “We were able to make the worst of the bleeding stop and pull the bullets out without opening you up more, which is good. You have some other bumps and bruises but we’re pretty sure there’s no internal bleeding, which was a concern, and no broken bones that we could find evidence of. You’re just still down a lot of blood, hon, so you have to take it easy, OK?” 

Being shot sounded familiar. You knew there was a stretch of time you were missing. You remembered running, Cody helping you get out. You’d been on the run for three days - you thought, anyway - before they caught up with you, the fresh snow giving you away. You didn’t remember much after that. There was pain and red snow and something soft and warm that smelled woodsy and wild, like the coat you still had on. 

There was a knock at the door and you jumped, eyes going wide. The doctor smiled a little and tugged your shirt back down. You pulled the coat back tight around you. 

“Come on in, Maria,” she called, keeping her eyes on you. A woman opened the door, a pile of clothes in her hand. She was about your age, you thought, and pretty. She smiled a little at you. “She’s all set with me but I’d like to keep her here overnight, make sure she hasn’t lost too much blood…” 

“Sure thing, Carol,” Maria said. 

“I’m going to leave you in Maria’s very capable hands,” Carol smiled. “You’re OK now, honey. You’re OK.” 

She got up and left, closing the door softly behind her. You fought the urge to back away from the woman standing next to you now. 

“Hi,” she smiled gently. “I’m Maria. I’m sure you have a lot of questions and I’m here to help you. First thing, you’re safe here. You don’t have to be afraid of me…” 

“Not afraid,” you cut her off. “Just like knowing where I am and that I can leave when I want is all.” 

“Well, you’re in Jackson, Wyoming,” she said. 

You nodded slowly. 

“What part of the state is that in?” You asked. 

“Near the Idaho border, south of Yellowstone,” she replied. You nodded again. Not too far from where you’d been then. That was oddly relieving, knowing they hadn’t taken you that far. “And you can leave whenever you want. We’d just like you to not die when you do so we’d like it if you stayed with us for a little while, at least. You were picked up by one of our patrols a few days ago…” 

“This a QZ?” You asked. “There are a lot of people here…” 

“No,” she laughed a little. “No, we’re not a QZ. We’re a commune, just a few hundred people who have agreed to share the work and the benefits of living together as a community…” 

“So what do you want with me?” You frowned. You still hadn’t gotten a straight answer to that, not one that made sense, anyway. 

“Nothing at all,” she said. Her voice was so calm and even, you wanted to lean into it, to trust her. That alone made your chest tight. “Our patrol didn’t want you to die in the woods and we take care of the people who come here. You’re welcome to stay, if you want. We have houses, clothes, plenty of food. If you stay you’d have to pitch in but no more than anyone else.” 

You narrowed your eyes at her and she laughed. 

“You don’t look like you believe me.” 

“I can’t say I do,” you said. “That doesn’t… people don’t just do that shit, especially not now.” 

She smiled, a little sadly. 

“You were on your own for a while out there, I’m guessing,” she said. She was mostly right so you nodded. “We are an unusual place, I’ll admit that. But we’re good people and we’re proud of what we’ve built here. We won’t hold you prisoner and if you want to go, you can go. But I think you should at least consider sticking around. People aren’t all bad, you just have to find the right ones.” 

“And you think I’m one of the right ones,” you said, still skeptical.

She shrugged. 

“I don’t know yet,” she replied. “But honestly, anyone who tries as hard to live as you did is a good person to have around. And we have plenty of room here. May as well have you take up some of it.” 

You nodded slowly. 

“To start, let’s get you into something that isn’t bloody and a little warmer,” she said, holding out a small pile of clothes. “When was the last time you ate something?” 

“I’m not sure,” you said. “Don’t know how long I was running or how long I was out.” 

Maria nodded. 

“I’ll get you something small to start, see how you do,” she said. “In a day or two, when Carol says you’re up for it, I’ll give you the tour, get you settled into a house. Sound good?” You nodded. “I’ll leave you to it. Try not to hurt yourself getting changed, I’d rather not get on Carol’s bad side.” 

You smiled a little and waited for her to leave before you delicately shrugged out of the coat and peeled off the bloody shirt. She’d brought you a long sleeved t-shirt this time, a little oversized and pale blue. The pants were plaid, the same color blue in part of the pattern. You lay down to slide the shorts off and pull on the clean underwear and pants Maria had brought. Sitting back up took work but you were proud of yourself for getting there. You lifted the shirt and checked to make sure the gauze was still white, no signs of bleeding getting bad again. You shrugged back into the coat and were pulling on thick, wool socks when Maria came back, knocking once before opening the door with food in hand. 

“We’re starting you slow, don’t want to push it according to Carol,” she said. “But I have some soup, half a sandwich, an apple and some water for you. Eat what you can, OK?” You nodded. 

“Any questions for me right now?” 

“When is it?” You asked. She looked at her watch but you cut her off. “Sorry, no, I mean what month is it?” 

“November,” she said. “Early November, Thanksgiving is in three weeks.” 

Thanksgiving. You’d all but forgotten about Thanksgiving.

“What year?” You asked, brows raised, fingernails digging into your leg. 

“It’s 2025,” she said.

You tried to hide your surprise at that but it didn’t go well. 

“What?” She asked. 

“I’m younger than I thought I was,” you replied. It felt like you’d been with them for longer than that but apparently not. “Not that it really matters.” 

“You can say you’re even younger if you want,” she smiled a little. “Beauty of the apocalypse, no one is going to check your birth certificate. Just be 22 forever.” 

You laughed at that, hard enough that you felt the wounds at your stomach pull and you winced. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ll try to not be too funny. Anything else?” 

“Yeah,” you gripped the edge of the table. “Could you hand me that mirror? The one on the counter? I just… haven’t seen myself in a while.” 

“Sure,” she smiled tightly again and handed you the mirror, face down, before heading for the door. “I’ll see you again soon, OK?” 

You nodded and she closed the door behind her. 

It only took a few seconds before you could hear what felt like everything again. The room was tinged pink, the sun setting outside, and the electricity was buzzing. You lifted the mirror slowly and held it in front of yourself with your eyes closed for a second before you took a deep breath and opened them. 

Recognizing your own face was a shock. It seemed like, after everything, you should look different now. And part of you did. You were bruised and there was a cut on your cheek and you thought the signs of creases next to your eyes were more obvious now than they had been the last time you saw yourself. Your hair was starting to streak with gray. But your eyes were still your eyes. So were your teeth, your nose, your eyebrows. You were still you. You still looked like you. It was disorienting. It was comforting. You set the mirror down before you ate the food Maria brought you, suddenly starving but just a few bites feeling heavy in your empty stomach. 

Eventually, Carol came back and brought you to the room you first woke up in. The bed had been made with fresh sheets. 

“Here,” she smiled gently. “Why don’t I take that coat…” 

“No,” you said quickly, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. She frowned. “No, I… I want to hold onto it, if that’s OK.” 

“Not going to try to run on us again are you?” She asked, brows drawn together. “Because…” 

“No,” you cut her off. “I just… it’s warm, I like it. I want to keep it. For now.” 

She looked at you, like she didn’t believe you. Which she shouldn’t. You didn’t want to keep it because you were cold or because you wanted to run. You wanted to keep it because it felt good. It smelled right. Your fingers tightened on the cuffs. You didn’t remember much about coming here the first time. All you really knew was because of this coat. The man had given it to you and when it settled over your body, the collar brushing your nose, the smell of it brought back a memory you didn’t know you had. One where you were warm and in a daze and swaying on the back of a horse with something broad and warm at your back. Safe. You liked safe. You needed the coat. 

“OK,” she said. “If you need a bathroom, there’s one right through that door there. I’ll be right out here if you need anything.” 

You waited until she closed the door before you crawled in bed. It was dark outside now but you knew it couldn’t be too late. Even so, you were exhausted, and you somehow felt safe enough to close your eyes and rest. 

*** 

“That girl is not sticking around,” Maria said as Joel sat beside Tommy in the mess hall at dinner. 

“Who isn’t?” He asked. 

“That woman you brought in from outside,” she replied. “She is skittish as hell, seemed fucking terrified…” 

“After seeing what she did to the men out there, we should be thankful she’s just skittish,” Joel said, starting in on his meatloaf. 

“What’d she do?” She frowned, looking to her husband. Tommy winced, bouncing his son on his leg. 

“Well, now, see, I didn’t want to worry you…” 

“Tommy,” she said in a warning tone. 

He sighed. 

“Well we found the other guys first,” he said. “One was just shot, nothing bad…” 

“OK…” she said slowly. 

“The other,” he sighed. “Well she’d damn near scratched his face off with her bare hands.” 

She startled back from him. 

“You didn’t think this was an important piece of information for us to know before we offered her a place to stay with us?” She asked. “Before you brought her into our community?” 

“Guy deserved it,” Joel said. Maria narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged. “Well, he did. Did you look at her at all? Got the shit beat out of her. Looked like she’d been tied up, someone fuckin’ branded her….” 

“Jesus,” Maria shook her head. “Can’t say I looked too close, no. Too busy trying to keep her from taking off on me.” 

“Sure the fuckers we found deserved it,” Joel said. “We won’t give her a reason to do that to us so we’ll be fine…” 

He couldn’t be sure of that, of course. He didn’t know you, not really. But he felt like he did. Looking at you, it felt like he knew you. 

“Well it’s a moot point,” she said after a moment. “She’s taking off as soon as she’s able, mark my words. She’s terrified of this place.” 

Joel didn’t bother to respond. He knew what that felt like, coming into a place like this when you were used to something so different. It had been scary for him and he’d come here of his own volition. He’d known someone here. 

You were different. Of course you were terrified. 

Tommy and Maria left to go back home before he did and Joel sat there, watching for Ellie to come in with her friends. She usually did, about half way through dinner. If she came in the right door, he’d sometimes hear her laugh. That was worth sitting there for a bit. More than worth sitting there for a bit. That girl, her life, her happiness were worth a lot of things. He could justify damn near anything for her. 

But Ellie came in the door further from where he was sitting that night and he didn’t hear her laugh. She saw him watching her and shot him a glare as she crossed the mess hall. A warning message, of sorts.

“I’ll go back, but we’re done.” 

That’s what she’d said to him. She’d meant it. And that was OK. She was alive so he could live with that. But at least this way he got to see her. Even if it was just for a second. Even if she hated him through it. 

He was gone before Ellie and her friends were looking for a place to sit. 

It was cold out, without his coat. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, thumbs hooked on his belt loops. Going home sounded lonely. Lonelier than usual. He didn’t want to go bother Tommy and Maria, they had enough going on with a toddler at home. Getting a drink at the Tipsy Bison sounded miserable. 

There was one thing he felt like doing. It was just a bad idea. So Joel just walked for a bit, wandering aimlessly through the town, letting the cold bite at his exposed skin. But he kept finding himself back in front of the clinic, the light on in the front room. 

It couldn’t hurt anything, right? Just… he could check. Just check. 

Carol smiled when he opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking. 

“I can take a look at that for you,” he said, closing the door behind him. 

“Just a squeaky door,” she said. “Nothing much to worry about fixing. Can I do something for you?” 

“No,” he shook his head for a second, looking at the ground and cupping the back of his neck before he could bring himself to look her in the eye again. “I just… was hoping to check up on the woman I brought in. Make sure she’s alright. You know.” 

She smiled a little wider and shook her head once. 

“She’ll be fine,” she replied. “Just keeping her here tonight because she lost a lot of blood. But, as you know, she was up and about plenty today. She just needs to give herself a chance to heal before she tries to crawl out a window and take off on a horse again.” 

Joel laughed once at that. 

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he said. 

“I’m afraid I can’t give you your coat back, though,” she said. Joel frowned. “She’s still wearing it. Wouldn’t let me take it. I think you might need to go find a new one, Mr. Miller. I don’t think she’s giving it up.” 

“Oh,” he said. “That’s fine she… she can keep it.” 

He turned to leave before he stopped in the doorway. 

“Don’t tell her I came by,” he said. “Don’t want to freak her out.” 

“Sure,” she smiled a little. He nodded. “Have a good night, Joel.” 

“You too.” 

The night was still biting and cold but he felt a little better, walking home in it as he looked at the clinic window as he passed, the one he knew you were just on the other side of, wrapped in his coat because you didn’t want to give it back. 

He was still warm when he got home. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I'm so sorry this update has taken so long! I wanted to finish up Beskar Doll before I fully dedicated myself to Yearling and now I can settle into a comfortable writing space with this fic which I am so excited for.

Bambi has officially landed in Jackson and Joel has taken notice. I love that for him.

I'm also really enjoying this softer Joel compared to Lavender Joel. It's interesting to write the same character who is in such a different place in his emotional journey and I can't wait to explore both of them further! I hope you enjoy the ride as we do :)

I do have a taglist. Please comment below if you'd like to be added!

Thank you for reading! Love you!!

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 31

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: I keep adding the amount of words and then making edits on tumblr and the words are never accurate. At this point either read or don't.

Masterlist

You guys are not ready for this. I wasn't ready for this. It took 31 parts to get here and I still kinda think it's too soon.

Welp. Anyway.

When I get back to the bus station, it's too late to catch the final bus, and you're not answering your phone.

I don't know how to get a cab in this fucking country, so I have to walk five miserable miles back to the AirBnB. Fucking fuck. It's dark and it's raining and there are no street lights, because most of the walk goes through the fields. Shit fuck shit.

When I finally get back, I want a shower, and I want to sleep forever.

And you are sitting on the couch, your knees pulled to your chest.

The TV is not on. You are not reading a book. You are facing the front door, waiting for me.

But whatever it is, I can't react, because I don't know anything and why are you looking at me like that? You're just staring at me. You don't say anything. It's getting a little creepy.

I can tell right away, just from the look on your face, that you've already gotten the news. But what have you heard? I made it look like an overdose, but I don't know if you were aware your mother had a drug problem. You never made it sound like she did. Maybe you think she killed herself on purpose.

Or maybe you don't think anything at all. Maybe you're just heartbroken.

You have not been crying. Are you in shock?

“Are you okay?” I ask, hanging up my coat casually because I don't know anything. I just came from Amsterdam, where I walked around and looked at old buildings and I don't have any fucking pictures to back that up.

You don't answer.

“It's sure pouring down out there,” I say. “I need a shower and a change of clo–”

“Why?” you interrupt.

I turn to you.

“Well, I'm cold.”

“Why did you kill my mother, Joe?”

What?

“What?”

“I didn't want you to do that,” you continue. “You can't have possibly thought I would ever want you to do that.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, shaking my head. “Your mom's dead?”

“Don't do that,” you say. And the thing is, you don't sound angry. You don't sound any particular way. We could be talking about the weather but you say: “don't act like you didn't do it.”

“I didn't– I don’t know what you're talking about.”

I try to sound worried and confused, but even I can tell I'm failing at that particular tone. There's too much panic to convey anything else.

“You follow me,” you say. “You break into my place. You steal my stuff and you think I don't notice. At first I try to distance myself from you but it's not like you're as bad as what I’m used to and I actually like you, so I get over it and I just let you. I mean, it's not like you're actually dangerous, right?”

This is not good.

“But then I complain about Jasper, and he turns up dead. And I think… surely not. The guy had a problem. Surely my boyfriend didn't kill him.” You stand up. You're angry now.

I'm scared for us, (Y/n).

“And I ignore it. Like I ignore all of it. And I fall in love with you.”

“(Y/n)–”

“But then I get back to this country,” you say. “And Mitch. Fucking Mitch! And I think… I think to myself. There's no way Joe hurt Jasper but if he did–”

“Listen to me.”

“If he did!” you shout, and somehow you've walked up to me and you're poking me in the chest and you're right in my face. You're crying now, but you're so angry. I have never been this terrified. “I mean, I didn't think you would! I left my phone out knowing you'd check it and I thought: no way, right?” You cackle. “But yes, yes you did. And the worst part? I suspected it and I thought you might and I let it happen anyway.”

“You need to calm down.”

“And what do I do? I ignore it! I tell you the whole story like you didn't already know all of it–”

“I didn't!”

“–and I pretend I don't know that you killed him and I lie to the cops for you and you killed him. You fucking killed Mitch–”

“Stop!”

You slam against the wall.

No, you don't just slam against it, I push you. My hands are on your wrists beside your head and you're struggling. What am I doing? I don't want to hurt you. I'm not going to hurt you.

But you are so angry. I let you go and I try to step away, but you follow me, slapping at my chest.

“I didn't want you to kill her! Not her! Not her!”

You could hurt me, if you wanted to. You're not weak. But this is the worst you're doing and you want me to calm you down. I just don't know how. Not without hurting you, or putting you in the cage for a while - which is obviously not an option right now.

“(Y/n),” I say. “Please.”

And I'm holding you again, except holding is the wrong word because you are against the wall and I've got your arm twisted and I am pressing your head sideways against the grainy paint. That's going to leave a mark. Stop. stop!

“You can't just go on a fucking murder spree anytime somebody upsets me!” You shout. You are too loud. “What if I have a fight with Nadia? Or my grandparents? Or my boss doesn't give me a raise–”

“I would never hurt Nadia. She's your best friend.”

“You killed my mother!”

“She was ruining your life!”

We fall silent and you're breathing too loudly, you might start hyperventilating if I let this go on.

But what do I say? There's nothing to say. I've just admitted everything to you, and…

“You knew,” I say. My grip slackens, and you could pull loose but you don't. “How did you know?”

“I saw you following me,” you whisper. “And my landlady saw you go in after some guy came to check for a leak, or something, I don't know.” You pause. Clear your throat. “It seemed logical to assume you were the one taking my shit.”

“You didn't say anything.”

I let you go. I step back again. You turn, pressing your back against the wall.

“I didn't care, Joe.” You close your eyes, press the palms of your hands against them like you can somehow shut out the sight of me. “What's some stuff? What's a look at my phone? What's wanting to know where I am or what I'm doing? I'm in love with you. You could just ask. What does it fucking matter?”

You're in love with me, present tense. I want to hold on to that, but what if you only say it that way out of habit?

“And Jasper,” you say. “I mean… I didn't actually think… I thought I was a sick, fucked up person for even allowing the thought to come to mind.”

“You left your phone out so I'd see Mitch's texts?” I ask. But what I think is: did you manipulate me into killing your stalker for you?

“The tiniest, tiniest part of me thought you would see those texts and– and–”

But you can't even say the words.

You didn't manipulate me, (Y/n). At least not consciously.

“And I felt so guilty after,” you add. “I didn't want to know.”

I forgive you.

“He was a monster,” I say. “He deserved it. If you wanted me to kill him, I wouldn't blame you.”

You glare at me.

“He was sick. You can't just say he deserved to die. I mean, God, Joe. When he stalks me he's a creep, but when you do it, it's just fine and dandy?”

“I don't send you thousands of texts! I don't threaten to hurt you if you don't speak to me for five minutes!” I realize I'm shouting, and lower my voice. “I would never hurt you.”

“Just everyone I love?”

“No,” I say, firm. “It's not like that.”

“Then what's it like, Joe?” you ask, tearing up again.

“I–”

“Tell me something that makes this okay, that makes killing my mother–” Your voice breaks. “Please tell me how it's okay.”

“I… can't,” I say.

I have my reasons, (Y/n). But even if I thought you could really, truly understand them, I don't want you to. I don't want you to have to face the darkness I face every day.

I don’t want to break you like that.

“You can't do this,” you say softly. “You can't. I need to be able to talk to you when I feel– things, without worrying you're going to…” You stop.

“What are you saying?” I ask slowly.

“I will never forgive you for this,” you say.

“I understand.”

“Never. She's– She was my mother, and I loved her so much and she's gone. Because of you.”

“I'm sorry,” I say.

“No. Don't even start. I want no apology or explanation or justification from you. I don't want to know. I don't want to know how you did it, or why, or to who else. I don't want to know if you liked it or if you would do it again or if you want to do it again.”

And I am. Not for killing her, but for how you feel about it. I never wanted you to feel such pain. I only wanted to save you from it.

“I didn't like–”

“I don't want to know,” you stress. “And you can't do it again. I mean not– Not to people I know. Even if I hate them. Even if I ask you to in those exact words. Not ever.”

“I'm not asking you to look away,” I say.

I'm not, (Y/n). I don't want you to.

“Then what do I do?” you ask, coldly. “Do I break up with you? Do I run from you screaming? And what will happen to me if I do?”

“Nothing.” I need you to believe that.

“I don't believe you, Joe.”

So that's where we stand, then.

You know everything about me and you are afraid of me. But you're not walking away.

It's all I've ever wanted: for someone to see me exactly as I am, and stay. My mother saw my darkness and left me. Candace saw my darkness and tried to run away.

But you're here. You're looking me in the eyes, and you're staying.

Why does it hurt?

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do your 2, 13, and 35 prompts for Chucky? Thanks <3

Sure! Today I binged Child's Play 1-3 today so here's a little chase scenario/short for Chucky >:) No specific movie. I could've made this longer but I was just doing what I first saw in my head-

This feels like potential for an ending event of a fic, so maybe in the future I'll make a part before this. Only maybe.

Yandere! Chucky Prompts 2, 13, 35

"It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!"

"So what if a few people have to die? It'll only bring us closer!"

"Don't push me away, dear... I only want to be closer to you!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Mentioned stalking, Blood, Murder mentioned, Swearing in one line, Violence, Threat, Implied forced relationship, Graphic descriptions despite this being short, Ritual mentions.

"Don't push me away, dear... I only want to be closer to you!"

The malicious voice of the doll echoes through the walls of your house. You curse yourself for even trusting the gift. You wonder if your friend was set up by... it to give it to you.

Normally you'd call yourself crazy for thinking a doll could threaten anybody. You know better now due to seeing what it can do. This doll... Chucky... appears to know you a lot longer than you did it/him?

"Okay, maybe I came off a bit strong. The whole revealing myself thing should've taken more time. But honestly? I can't wait to take you in."

You hear fast steps run about your house. He's toying with you. He knows he'll get what he wants, even if you try to defend yourself with that weapon of yours.

"I promise it won't hurt... much- I already have the perfect type of doll you can be, baby! Just give up and reveal yourself... it'll be quick."

You don't give him the satisfaction of responding back. Instead you make your way to the nearest exit. You can't tell if it's best to stay in the house and fight him or flee outside.

Either way you can't really see him... would giving him an open area only be worse?

"Oh for fuck's sake you won't even give me a response? You're cold!" Chucky yells, more movement soon following. "It's an honor for someone such as me to take you in and love you!"

You grit your teeth and slowly try to open the door behind you. In response a knife is thrown at your leg, causing you to cry in pain. Blood drools out of the wound as you try to fumble the door open despite the pain.

"What? Are you mad I killed them?" Chucky says from behind you, he sounds rather annoyed. "Think of how I feel! I had to watch you mingle with other people that weren't me! You know what? I got tired of it!"

You manage to push the door open, only for something to slice the back of your leg. Your cries ring out and you slip on your own blood. The pain in unbearable, Chucky pulling your head back to expose your throat certainly wasn't helping.

"So what if a few people have to die? It'll only bring us closer!" Chucky growls, holding on as you flail. You can stand with your wounds and struggle to fight the doll with a blade pressed to your throat. "In fact, your own death and blood will bring us closer if you just let me conduct this little ritual!"

"Go to Hell!" You yell, cringing at the warmth of both the doll and blood coating your clothes.

"Oh, baby... I can't!" Chucky teases before pushing the knife closer "Not unless I take you with me!"

You struggle more with the doll before he eventually finds a way to knock your head with something. You're not quite unconscious but docile enough to allow the doll to tie you down. You struggle weakly in your binds, realizing the blood loss would put you in shock in soon. While you come to terms with tour situation... you barely notice Chucky drag a doll in.

"If you continue to fight me on this, you're dead." Chucky claims in a stern tone. You're in no place to fight anyway so you weakly nod. In reality, you'll probably die either way with the blood you're losing.

Perhaps you're just tired of fighting anyways.

Chucky smiles at your compliance, lifting your head to see your dull eyes.

"Now I want you to sit tight, I prepared for this moment." Chucky chimes, placing his hands on the doll and you. "After this... you'll be my perfect little doll, just you see."

You go light-headed, feeling your own warmth begin to slip away. You hoped death would claim you before he did whatever the hell he was planning. Unfortunately, that would be mercy compared to what's happening.

"Give in." Chucky orders. "When you wake up, we'll be made for each other."

It's then you hear a foreign language spill from the doll's lips.

You're too weak to even cry.

[shitideas]

the end | stu macher x reader

summary: on the 30th anniversary of maureen prescott’s murder, stu comes back to kill one last time. what he doesn’t know is that his presumably dead girlfriend, and billy’s sister, will come back to end everything herself.

warnings: okayy, this one is a lot. so: murder, knives and guns, suicide, angst, swearing, lmk if there’s something i missed! it’s kinda shit tbh but i was thinking about this a lot bc i am a firm believer that stu’s alive!! also she/her pronouns used for reader.

it was september 28th, 2026. the 30 year anniversary of maureen prescott’s murder.

his forearm tightened around tara’s neck, holding the old knife to her throat. her sister stood in front of them, hands in the air with his gun pointing right at her. sidney watched the scene from the ground, cluthing onto the deep stab wound in her stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. a tear slipped down her cheek, wishing a miracle would happen to finish all of this. by now, he had killed almost everyone in the building.

when he took the old, busted up mask off of his face, sidney almost fainted. she thought she was having a nightmare for a brief moment. moments later, his knife was deep in her stomach and he was looking directly into her eyes.

his goal was to have only two survivors, samantha carpenter and himself. i mean, he could never kill her, he would hate himself forever. the only thing that didn’t go to plan was the fact that he didn’t commit all of the murders, and he didn’t know who did. he couldn’t say he wasn’t freaked out by that, but he hadn’t given it much thought. he was focused on his goal, to finish what had started in 1995.

he was about to push the knife into the squirming girl’s skin when a gunshot was heard in the distance. he knew somebody would come barging in soon. so he proceeded with what he was about to do.

his knife cut her throat in one swift motion. he pushed her to the ground and watched as her life left her body, listening to the loud screams her sister and sidney let out.

he smiled to himself, “you’ve still got it, stu.”

sam tried to come to tara’s side, but he shot her in the leg before she could move. she screamed in agony. the whole building was echoing with cries of the young woman.

sidney was slowly losing consciousness, cursing herself for not hugging her kids tighter when she left.

but then, another gunshot was fired.

except this one was fired right into the wall next to his head.

he raised his gun at the new person in the room. they wore the same black coat he did, and had an equally beat up mask on their face.

“take the fucking mask off you piece of shit! you think you can come barging in here and ruin everything for me?!”, he yelled.

“stu, stu, stu…why so angry? i always thought billy was the hot-headed one…guess i was wrong”, the person spoke through a voice changer.

“i mean, there’s no need to insult me…i helped you kill those people after all.”

“so you’re the dick that jumped in on my shit. this was supposed to end with me you fuck! i don’t need some random kids ruining my plans!”

“i’m not just some random kid, stu. and it will end with you, don’t worry.”, they said before reaching up for their mask.

the mask fell to the ground, and stu macher’s face fell in shock. he lowered the gun and just stared at the person in front of him.

“have you missed me?”

the voice of y/n loomis echoed through the room. stu let a tear fall down his scarred face, quickly wiping it away.

sidney was out cold on the floor, leaving only sam. y/n’s eyes flickered to sidney, noticing she was breathing. she smiled, glad sidney was going to be alright.

“you’re samantha. it’s good to finally meet you.”

sam stared at her, barely processing what the hell is going on. didn’t y/n loomis die in 1996?

stu walked over to y/n, her gun pointing at him.

“put the gun down, y/n.”, he said in a soft voice. she missed his voice so much.

she looked at him through her eyelashes, slowly lowering the gun. he cupped her face with tears in his eyes and kissed her, rubbing his thumb on her chin. she kissed him back, placing her hand on his scarred cheek. she ran her fingertips over the old cuts, her mind taking her back to the night of horror he and her brother caused.

she pulled away and he pressed his forehead against her’s.

“i thought we killed you. i couldn’t forgive myself for thirty years.”, he spoke in a hoarse voice.

she gave him a small smile before pushing him away, leaving the man with a puzzled look on his face. she raised her gun again, pointing at him, and walked over to sam.

“sam, i am so sorry you’re a part of this messed up bloodline. and i hope you can find peace after all of this is over.”, she spoke softly, looking at her niece from above. she was holding her sister’s hand, sobbing quietly to herself. she watched her aunt with a dazed look, barely nodding at her words.

“y/n, what are you doing?”

“it’s about time this ended, don’t you think, stu?”, she turned to look at him, tears forming in her own eyes. they were glossed with fear, but at the same time certainty. she knew this had to be done.

“isn’t that why you joined in? i’m going to kill this bitch and then it’s over. you and i leave. together.”, he said pointing his knife at sidney.

y/n looked at the floor and smiled to herself weakly. he was always such a lapdog to her brother. always doing whatever billy wanted.

“you know, stu, billy’s dead. you no longer have to go along with everything he says and wants.”

“i’m doing this for myself. you killed people, y/n. i know you want to finish this off.”

“i do. but i only killed people who deserved it. and i am going to finish this off.”, she pointed the gun directly at his head, biting her lip to stop a sob from coming out of her.

his eyes widened with realisation. he moved towards her but stopped once he realised she was serious.

“y/n don’t be stupid..you can’t kill me. you won’t be able to live with yourself.”, he uttered in a broken voice.

“you’re right. i won’t be.”, she stuttered, finally letting the tears fall from her eyes.

“no…y/n. please don’t do this. i have to finish what we started.”, he pleaded.

“stu, this will only continue to happen if you’re alive. this should’ve stopped with you and billy dead in 1996. and as much as i would love to run off and spend my life with you…i know that that’s not how it’s supposed to be.”, she said, sobbing.

she loved stu. for all of these years she spent in hiding, a part of her wished that her brother’s knife had killed her that day. she always knew he intended for her to live, to escape, but when she realised that her brother and her boyfriend were behind the horrors of woodsboro, she wanted to be in the ground with them both. she hated herself for carrying the loomis name, and she hated herself for loving a macher.

stu’s baby blues found her’s with a sad look. he also knew this had to be done, deep inside of him. but he was crazy after all. he didn’t care what was right. the gun from his hand fell to the ground in defeat, and so did the knife from his other hand. he walked closer to y/n. he wanted to see her face. he wanted that to be the last face he saw before his death. she was the only person besides billy who ever made him happy, who gave him a purpose. and all of these years he was planning how he was going to end this and bury himself in his own sorrow and despair. he couldn’t live without her. but the world couldn’t live with him.

so he let a small smile creep onto his lips in defeat.

��i love you y/n. i’ll always love you.”

“i love you too stu.”, she muttered. her face was red and her eyes were puffy.

she screamed loudly before shooting. the cries that left her were like nothing you’ve ever heard. she fell to her knees and crawled to his lifeless body, cupping his cheek and burrowing her head into his neck, letting out loud sobs.

“i’m so sorry stu. i’m so sorry.”,she cried.

sam watched from behind, barely comprehending what she just saw. she didn’t know wether to feel sorry for y/n, or happy that she killed him. her hand was wrapped around tara’s, wishing that y/n would’ve came in the room minutes earlier.

y/n turned her head to look at sam.

“take sidney and leave.”, she whispered.

sam stared at her in disbelief, “i can’t just leave my sister here!”

y/n turned fully and pointed her gun at the girl.

“i said, take sidney and leave. now.”

sam shook her head with tears in her eyes and got up. the pain in her leg was sharp, but she managed to go to sidney and drag her up. she looked at her aunt one last time and nodded before leaving as fast as she could.

once sam was gone, y/n was left alone with stu. she hated herself for what she just did. but she knew that her niece would be safe now that he’s gone. but she wasn’t finished yet.

she placed a soft kiss on stu’s lips before hugging him one last time.

“see you in hell.”, she thought to herself before bringing the weapon up to her head and finishing what her brother had started.

everything was finally peaceful. and it will be peaceful for eternity.

//notes//

THIS IS SO BAD LMFAOO but i’ll get better i promise🙏🙏it was a good idea just shit execution…if you guys want like one shots or a story from when they were teens lmk i’d love to write that!! okay byeee thanks for reading this trash!!🫶🏻🪼

[lacyscabinet]

Ghostface Natalie!!!

Angsty, cause I can't think of to much fluff rn:

1. She ends up stabbing R (reader) instead of the victim. And immediately crumbles grabbing onto them and falling to the floor sobbing she removes her mask begging for help from the others but their all to scared of her, as she panics trying to stop the bleeding. I don't like R death but just having Nat panic and feel bad is ❤️

2. Since people like sister Nat from you (with your beautiful writing!) Let me get this out of the way, she's like Sam Carpenter. Older, half sister. Her dad was a killer before her and she just lost it and started killing. But one night at a costume party, she's dragging some asshole of a dude away in the crowd of drunk teens with loud music. And just after she stabs him, right in front of everyone but no one seems to notice, the guy pulls her mask off, she looks up only to see her little sister caught her. (Gonna be an awkward discussion at home ngl 🏃) can also be like non sister, I just know people like her as such.

3. Natalie was staying in your room, she always had to sneak in through the window. She left her lover R, to go with her partner in crime (you pick) to "take care of something" anyway long story short she ends up stumbling and falling through your window on her way back, she was stabbed. Her mask in hand the only person she could think to seek refuge with was her girlfriend/partner/lover, but now you have to face the fact not only is she bleeding on perfectly good carpet, but she's killed people. Your friend's (mostly assholes let's be honest) but you don't want her to die.

Also could I ask for an emoji? To just sign with? I think I'm gonna end up sending a lot of things 😭 (if that's ok!) I love your writing!

A/N: OMG I WANNA WRITE EVERY SINGLE ONE (AND I WILL MAYBE 🤭), but I think I'm gonna start with your first idea!! Actually now that I think about it I might create a little section just for ghostface!au requests. And you can totally have an emoji!!! Just let me know what you picked! <3

Not proofreaddddd

MASTERLIST

Scream

"Natalie!" You happily squealed as soon as you saw your girlfriend walking into the room.

You were at Jackie's house for a sleepover with the whole team and a couple of mutual friends.

Natalie smiled, dropping a heavy backpack on the floor and instantly opening her arms for you "Hi baby" she mumbled while kissing the top of your head. You and the girls planned a fun and quiet night, but what you didn't know was that you currently stood in the arms of the mysterious cold blood murder Ghostface, and you also didn't know that one of Jackie's friends, Matt had a reputation to be a bit of a fuck boy.

And Nat couldn't stand him.

So as soon as everybody arrived at the party, she started targeting him from far away, monitoring his moves.

"Nat! Nat! Stop! Don't tickle me!" You said in between laughs, the two of you were cuddling on the couch "Okay okay I'll stop babe, actually, I forgot to tell you I need to go home earlier" Natalie said with an apologetic look "My mom...I need to check on her" she knew that you were very empathetic of her family situation, and she also knew that if she pulled that card you would let her leave without further questions.

That leads us to this moment, Nat changing outside of the house, from her grungy clothes to black coat and mask in hand along with a sharp knife.

Sneaking back inside, she could hear all of you messing around in the living room, a movie playing combined with soft music.

Nat peeped from the almost closed door, you sat near Lottie and Matt "Pretty" she thought when you smiled at one of Van's jokes "focus nat".

The lights were dimmed and you were distracted, so it was easy for her to sneak in and hide behind the bookshelf.

That's when she decided to attack.

Revealing herself, all the people in the room started screaming and running as far as they could, the adrenaline pumped in Nat's veins, and then she stabbed.

But in the chaos she didn't realize who she stabbed.

At least not until she heard you scream, scream like you never screamed before, it wasn't fear, it was gut wrenching pain.

Your body fell on the floor, blood, lots of blood splashed everywhere and Natalie's eyes widened

"no no no" she mumbled in panic while getting closer causing you to scream more, at that she instantly took off her mask "No no no baby it's me, it's just me I didn't mean to... I...let me help please, please baby..."

At that you could believe your eyes, your beautiful, kind and loving girl was ghostface? Like THE ghostface, a murderer!?

And just like you, everyone in the room was shocked, so when Nat asked, or more like begged them to help her they all just stared at her paralyzed.

You were so weak and the blood wasn't stopping, she cradled you in her arms for a while, until you passed out, and she cried and cried terrified that she just lost you forever.

You woke up in a hospital bed, beeping of machines and the smell of sanitizer lingered in the air, your mind was blurry and the memories of the night scattered in your head, but you did remember one single thing clearly

Natalie was the ghostface.

And you didn't know where she was now, if she was arrested or if she ran away, either way, you stared at the white ceiling, thinking of everything that happened and everything that changed in the moment ghostface pointed her knife at you.

[soleilnomoon]

i would love to place an order for Meringue Cookies, Dark Chocolate, Jelly Beans, Candy Necklace, & Blan Manje, with Caramel & Honey. Side menu # 1 for Boa or Nami. either is fine! with a g/n reader! These stories are a blast to read!

anon i am so so sry this took forever 😭💕💕💕 but i finally finished and i'm actually happy with it; also ty for requesting, i love boa hancock sfm i wish more ppl wrote for her.

4.3k words, gn reader (no pronouns), nsfw, 18+ mdni; angst angst angst bc that's how i vibe & smut, and if you squint real hard there's some fluff somehow i think. hancock is a brat as usual and reader ain't shit, but they go great together <3 feat. cute things like oral (f receiving), fingering, a lil bondage, hair pulling, some pussy slapping, more stuff that idr anymore ૮₍ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ₎ა (if u see grammar/spelling errors no u didn't ;_;)

tagging lil’ kaia bc she asked so nicely ❤︎ @cvvor

“our love would be death” — anaïs  nin

sea salt sifts through the wind, warm and fine enough that most don’t notice its intrusion. it lands on your nose and lips, coats your tongue when you exhale through your mouth; no matter how many times you try to wash away the taste, it still lingers. a persistent annoyance that refuses to leave you alone. it’s a bitter, yet familiar taste — one that fills your heart with memories you’ve long wanted to keep buried. you’re no stranger to heartache, but this is different.

you find that you can never sleep through the entire night without dreaming of your ex — of how you begged them to stay, of how you told them you couldn’t live without them. pathetic, you tell yourself one morning after another restless night — you know you need to find a way to move on, but there’s no way you can, not when you carved so many pieces of yourself to give away without much thought.

what you’re left with is a battered heart that can barely function on its own; it flops pitifully in your chest, rattling against your rib cage weakly. every day it gets harder to breathe, harder to face the truth that you’re all alone — again.

boa hancock doesn’t know why she even fucking bothers, but she can’t seem to stay away from you. it’s a privilege, in her opinion, for you to be graced with her presence, let alone be allowed to touch her intimately. so, when she finds you staring wistfully out of the window, sighing to yourself again she snaps.

“y/n, look at me,” she commands loudly, voice piercing through your body like a thick arrow that keeps you frozen in place. you know better than to disobey her, even though you want to; you know you’re being unreasonable, but the heart always wants what it can’t have, right?

not that she cares about any of that. in her mind, your ex is an ex for a reason. she grabs your face with her hand, squeezing tightly, delicate brows furrowed together as irritation drips down her spine. she could easily kill you and you know it. “i’m the most beautiful woman in the world,” she boasts, although there’s something melancholic about the way she says it.

you narrow your eyes at her, mouth moving before you can think better of it. “and what of it?” it’s not often that you challenge her like that, but today you’ve had enough of her games, of constantly catering to her whims and desires, of her veneer that she insists on keeping even when she’s alone with you.  

it dawns on her then what the actual problem is. “you’re still in love with them.” anger seeps through her pores, and she knows if she doesn’t walk away soon, she might say or do something she’ll possibly regret.

you flinch, eyes widening — she’s not entirely wrong, but she’s not right either. you’re just stuck in limbo, unable to move on because you refuse to do so; after seeing them so happy with someone else, you can’t fathom finding any sort of happiness yourself. so, you cling onto the past, even when it threatens to destroy your present life.

for some reason, this pisses you off — that hancock is so much more perceptive than people give her credit for; that she’s not afraid to tell you the truth, despite how your friends sugarcoat everything for you. the rage that’s bubbled deep inside of you for months finally pushes out; you can barely think or see properly, and you forget yourself when you practically shout back at her.

“and you’re just jealous because for once, you’re not the focus of my attention.” you’re not sure why you say it, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, you feel like shit.

there’s rarely a moment where hancock finds herself in absolute shock, but your venomous words cut into her bruised ego with vigor. it's a harsh reality that she refuses to accept, so she lashes out at you again.

“you’re pathetic.” her tone is cold, and she steels her face enough that she almost looks bored with you. hancock releases her hold on you and swivels on her heels to walk away. you don’t bother calling after her, but she pauses in her gait to look over her shoulder at you. “i’m done playing with you, get out of my sight.”

the dismissal is the first slap of many and her insistence on blatantly keeping her back turned while she ignores you is another. something in you breaks, but you know you’ve angered the pirate empress enough for one day. you don’t hesitate before scrambling to your feet and leaving her alone. after you close the door, you hear a shriek that’s accompanied by what sounds like a large vase shattering. you don’t bother checking on her, because you know you’re not wanted in her presence right now.

you should’ve seen this coming. one doesn’t simply think about another lover while in the presence of boa hancock; it’s absurd and theatrical, but it’s an unspoken rule that you keep breaking over and over. in the back of your mind, you know you should go make things right with her, but you just don’t know how.

hancock’s frustration continues to build throughout the day. she doesn’t know why someone — you, a commoner who should be groveling at her feet daily — can be so insolent without remorse. she’s smashed several expensive sculptures, shredded her mattress and bed sheets with large scissors, and cursed out every staff member in kuja palace. her anger only intensifies when she hears someone whisper your name, so she locks herself in her bedroom, refusing meals or assistance from anyone.

you’ve always thought that the pirate empress was annoying, self-centered, and unnecessarily mean without reason. you’ve told her this on several occasions, stunning her into silence — a feat that most cannot achieve. hancock would normally sentence someone to death for those sorts of callous remarks, but for some reason she spares you. maybe it’s because despite her incomparable, unrivaled beauty, you don’t helplessly pine after her.

and she absolutely hates that about you.

hancock’s not someone who’s used to being treated like a regular person, and yet that’s what you do to her. you barely hold any reverence for her, give her the minimal amount of respect owed as a citizen of amazon lily, and you don’t flinch when she threatens you publicly. most are afraid to be associated with you, out of fear for incurring the snake princess’ wrath — not that you care, you’ve known that your personality can’t be tolerated by most because you tend to happily go against the grain.

you’ve always found her beauty to be intense and intoxicating — imposing like the sun, forcing a heat to surge through you that has yet to dissipate. you hate that your attraction to her impedes your daily life, especially when you’re plagued by dueling thoughts of her and your ex. you’re barred from entering the palace, and you’re thankful for it as you don’t know how you’d be able to face hancock after all that you’ve said. you know that you should apologize profusely, but a woman like hancock requires something extravagant and elaborate — something that’ll prove that your adoration and loyalty is genuine and not forced.

the first few days are relatively easy; you work tirelessly to keep your mind and body busy, and you’re so exhausted by the end of the day that you sleep without dreaming. when a week passes, you start to notice that certain things are off; you didn’t make it a habit of frequenting the palace that often, but you were there enough that the staff didn’t give you a hard time when you showed up unannounced. you tell yourself that distance is good — it means you’ll be able to finally focus on the things that are important to you.

but, when you sit and think about it, you’re not quite sure if that’s entirely true.

after the second week, you start getting antsy. your friends keep pestering you, asking why your mood keeps shifting day to day — you’re intolerable and grouchy, snap at minor things and make mistakes all day. your heart, as tired and as worn out as it is, still skips a beat when you think about hancock despite what you try to tell yourself when you’re alone. somehow, you’ve convinced yourself that the only reason why you’re thinking about her, is because you miss fucking her.

the lie is tough to digest, but you keep repeating it and sooner or later you’ll believe it, right?

soon, everything reminds you of her.

on a warm night, a small festival is held, and you wander around listless and slightly tipsy. memories of the first time you met boa hancock — outside of all the fanfare that her royal title awards her — plague you relentlessly. you remember the warmth from that night, similar to this one; you remember how highly oppressive and unbearable the humidity was; and you also remember that you were on your third drink when you unceremoniously bumped into the pirate empress.

at first, her sisters demanded you apologize, but you were annoyed and had just been dumped so you chose audacity instead.

hancock’s irritation was evident, despite her not saying much — and it wasn’t until your rambling struck a nerve that she fired back. it was the first time he’d let her walls down, and her sisters watched in shock as both of you went back and forth over nothing. hancock called you all sorts of terrible names, and you sneered and laughed in her face. the fact that you weren’t cowering in fear or salivating over her beauty set her skin on fire in a way she didn’t understand.

you remember her dismissing the other gorgon sisters, insisting that she’d be able to handle you on her own. and she did, in a way. if anyone were to ask her about that time, hancock would easily admit that she regrets meeting you that night — but it would be a lie. the only thing she regrets is allowing you to infiltrate her heart, to settle without permission, to make her feel less than when she knew she was anything but.

her brattiness is unappealing on the surface and you normally wouldn’t be attracted to a woman who boldly wears such an ugly personality with pride. somehow, hancock has made the trait endearing to you, in a strange way; she’s so unapologetic with her behavior, that you find it rather comical. why people take her seriously is beyond you.

but, despite all of that, you do miss her.

you miss seeing the way her nose would scrunch and wrinkle when she was disgusted with something insignificant and minute; you miss kissing her in the middle of arguments and watching her easily melt underneath your touch; but you mostly miss hearing her complain about your lack of etiquette, about how odd she finds your views on the world, and about how you see her more clearly than anyone else on the island.

that sort of vulnerability terrifies her, and it’s why she’s been so miserable without you.

her sisters pay you a visit one morning and implore you to talk some sense into hancock. they tell you about how her temper tantrums have gotten uncontrollable (even for them) and how she barely eats or bothers leaving the palace these days. that bit surprises you, as hancock thrives off the validation from the populace. at first you mean to refuse them, but when you take note of how marigold anxiously fidgets with the gold bracelet around her wrist and the way sandersonia has dark circles under her eyes, you give in.

after taking a long, long soak in the bath, hancock pads back to her room naked, deciding to keep the windows open so she can air dry properly. you find her shortly after, out of breath from running over to the palace; she didn’t lock her door — and why should she? she’s the empress, after all — so you enter her room with ease. because she’s been so out of it lately, she’s been sluggish in her reactions to certain things; especially since she hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

with the door shut and locked behind you, hancock’s mind clears a bit; she blinks slowly, her dark eyes honed on you, taking in your thick thighs and toned body. as usual, hancock’s face only features an impassive expression, and she keeps her tone flat when she addresses you.

“why the hell are you in my bedroom?” she grabs the silk robe that’s draped over her mattress and puts it on in a rush.

before you can answer her or move closer, she picks up a large pillow and chucks it at you in the hopes that you’ll get the hint and leave her alone. you sidestep the attack, lips pressed together as you hold back a laugh; she can’t honestly think that a pillow will stop you, can she? hancock keeps throwing things, anything within her reach that isn’t nailed down to the floor or wall. you try to reason with her, try to make your way closer, but stop when you see the way her lips quiver.

she keeps fumbling with tying her robe properly, keeps looking down at her trembling fingers — the same ones that have tugged on your hair more times than you can count — but still she won’t say anything else to you.

after a minute, hancock manages to compose herself once again, her lips pressed tightly together as she fights the urge to berate herself for looking weak in front of you — as if you care about any of that. your silence compels her to swiftly make her way towards you, long legs shimmering in the sunlight, captivating you so much that you forget you’re supposed to be angry with her.

“look at you,” she stands tall, her pride giving her the confidence she needs to verbally tear you apart. “you’ve come begging for my forgiveness, right?” she doesn’t wait for you to respond and simply flips her hair over her shoulder before continuing. it’s all she can do to keep her composure around you; she knows if she gives you even a fraction of an inch, you’ll take a whole damn mile. “i should have you gutted for entering the palace without permission. you should know your damn place.” while her words are harsh, her delivery doesn’t quite match the expression on her face. maybe it’s because you haven’t taken your eyes off of her since you entered her room; or, maybe it’s because she’s standing much closer than necessary but can’t physically move herself away.

did you cast a spell on her without her knowledge?

while her eyes do narrow at that possibility, she highly doubts that you could, as there’s no one on amazon lily that doesn’t succumb to her treacherous beauty. but you continue to defy her expectations and you never know when to quit. which is why she just wants to grab you by the neck and toss you out the window; maybe if she actually kills you this time, she’ll be done with you forever.

except, she could never bring herself to harm you — not really. so she continues with her rant, reminding you that you’re beneath her, that you should be happy someone like her gave you any attention at all, but the more she talks, the more you want her to just shut the hell up.

“you’re right,” you say, cutting her off without remorse or any regards for your own safety, “and i deserve all of that,” and possibly more, but you don’t add that bit in. it becomes a little difficult to focus, what with hancock watching you with a different kind of intensity than you’re used to. “i… should’ve just explained myself properly before. but, more importantly,” you decide to take a risk and gently grab her by the hips.

silence wraps around her, blending into her thoughts, warping her perception of everything that’s happening. your hand is warm — much too warm, hot almost; she can feel the heat through the flimsy fabric as she presses her body closer to yours. whatever it is you want to tell her doesn’t matter — maybe she’ll pester you about it all later, but right now all she wants is you.

so, you give in and allow yourself to be more selfish than usual.

when your lips brush against hers, she completely comes alive — the longing you both felt for weeks, the irritation and unsaid words, they all prompt her to wrap her arms around your neck. it’s something short of a loving embrace, but you know better. your kiss goes from slow and tender to something much more fevered and enthusiastic; her lips are soft and supple, wholly inviting and terribly mesmerizing. you back her against the wall as she threads her fingers through your hair, tugging on it roughly, her patience practically nonexistent from all her wanting. you laugh at her in between kisses, breath warm against her skin — a feat that simultaneously annoys and arouses her — and remind her to play nice.

when she tugs on your hair again, you bite her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, but run your tongue along the miniature wound to soothe the sting. she inhales sharply, the pain not noticeable, but the way you suck on her lip makes her head spin while also leaving her breathless.

 a woman like hancock doesn’t beg, but when you grab her ass roughly — aggressive, yet completely undoing — she lets out a whimper so pathetic she’s almost ashamed of herself.

she should slap you, but all she does is roll her hips forward once you spread her legs and run your fingers against her folds. in a fit of desperation, to excuse her reactions, she tells herself that it’s because she hasn’t been touched in so long — but deep down she knows the truth; she knows it’s because there’s no one else she’d rather have here with her, and that is a terrifying revelation. still, she’s very receptive to your touch, her back arching as soon as you spread her with your fingers.

her arousal drips down slowly, and while you’d love to take your time with her, you also know that if you don’t hurry up you might actually lose your mind. you trail kisses down the length of her neck, and hancock presses her lips together to keep from making any more embarrassing noises. it’s ridiculous the way her body can easily be commanded by you without much effort; she wants to hate you for leading her down this path, but she can’t ever bring herself to do so.

love makes people incredibly foolish and tender indeed.

“that won’t do,” you remark lightly, gliding your fingers back and forth, barely grazing her clit. her breathing stops momentarily when you open her robe completely and drop to your knees in front of her. “why are you holding back?” you don’t ask her because you actually want the answer; you ask because you know it’ll annoy her greatly.

you tease her entrance with your fingers and a shiver fires through her entire body; with her lips parted, you strain your ears a bit, but you hear through her all of her light panting, her softly saying please, please, please. she’s trying so hard to hold it together, and you commend her for her efforts by inching your fingers inside of her slowly. hancock’s façade finally shatters, and you hear her moan audibly as you plunge your fingers in and out of her pussy. you love the way she clenches around your fingers — warm and tight, soft in a way that just doesn’t make sense to you — and the way she moves her hips once your tongue playfully swirls around her clit.

you drape her long, shapely leg over your shoulder and scissor your fingers inside of her pussy; you hum against her skin, thoroughly enjoying the way her chest heaves and how she can’t seem to stop moaning your name.

if only she was always this compliant.

a heat passes through your body as her nails rake against your scalp, and if you weren’t so hellbent keeping her steady, she’d probably fall over by now. you eat her pussy with vigor, swapping your fingers for your tongue; you thrust it inside without remorse, and she quickly becomes a whimpering mess as she chants “yes, yes, yes.” you mean to tell her to keep it down, but a part of you also enjoys it when she lets go and gives into her desires. you don’t want to get caught, but the thrill of it incites you to lap at her pussy — greedy and eager, as if it’s the most savory meal you’ve ever had. her wetness drips down your chin, glistening along your lips but you don’t stop.

she watches you in a trance, unsure if she’ll ever be able to let you go after this. possessive by nature, hancock never thought she’d find herself in this sort of position, but there she is, completely under your spell. every swipe of your tongue brings her closer and closer to the edge — a dangerous dance that she does without thinking. she brings her free hand to cup and knead one of her breasts — hefty and round, moaning repeatedly, voice already straining as she shamelessly rides your face.

you love it, though and when you suck on her clit roughly, lightning wraps around her veins, time slowing down around her, causing her vision to blur. she’s so wound up, that the orgasm takes her completely by surprise — her hips buck wildly and you hold her firmly as you work your fingers back into her pussy. you pull away just to give her a haughty look — one that she catches by accident through her tear-stained lashes — voice low and husky as you continue teasing her. “you’re doing so good,” you lick her clit hard enough to have her eyes roll back, “do you trust me?”

it's not fair of you to ask her genuine questions right now, but you need to know.

hancock swallows hard, unable to think properly, but answers without hesitation: “y-yes.”

her voice is sweet, much more demure than you’re used to; your heart suddenly feels much too big for your chest, the beats growing louder and thunderous; a dangerous combination when coupled with your cowardice. but you know better than to cower away, so you muster the courage to quietly respond with, “good, i’m glad.”

you’re not sure why you ask her that, but you keep thinking about it when you have her naked on her bed with her hands bound above her. thanks to you, her normally blemish-free skin is littered with bite marks and dark red bruises — small and harmless, but you do feel a sliver of remorse when you realize she’ll have to cover herself up for a bit when she’s outside of the palace. you tell her she’s a masterpiece worthy of exhibition, and she tells you that you’re insolent for stating the obvious.

she’s so beautiful and vulnerable in this position — flushed cheeks, tears in her eyes, legs shaking as they’re spread wide for you; her pussy is swollen after you slapped it a few times when she gave you lip a few minutes ago. out of habit, hancock wants to run her mouth again when you hover over her, but her words never come out. she looks up at you, silently wondering why you keep coming back to her. the melancholy that accompanies those thoughts is heavy enough to make her want to cry, so she ignores it. she wraps her legs around you as you rock your hips against hers, cunt still dripping — eager and inviting.

fucking hancock is like being trapped in a feverish dream, one where you fall over and over, unable to predict if you’ll survive in the end. it’s an unending maelstrom — powerful and unpredictable, wild, and all-consuming. sweat pools at your temples, but you don’t slow down until you wrench another orgasm out of her. her voice grows hoarse, and she claws at your chest; you lick the tears off her cheeks and kiss her in a way that deludes her into thinking that she’s your one and only.

when you finally cum, it’s with her name on your lips. your hips stutter and your breath is uneven — for you, your pleasure comes mostly from watching her unravel underneath you. hancock never lets you stay over, but she’s surprisingly soft with you afterwards, even letting you run your fingers through her silky, ink-black hair.

the intimacy scares both of you, but you can’t stop yourself from touching her like that. and even though you’re both sticky and sweaty, skin burning in a way that doesn’t make sense, you still stay close to one another.

she opens her mouth several times, the compulsion to curse you out for driving her mad grows weaker as time passes. she watches you fall asleep and she admires your features without restraint. she refuses to tell you that you’re much more attractive than she’d like you to be; she’d rather you be hideous with a shitty personality, but that’s not the case, is it? she’s hopelessly enamored with you, and you with her.

nothing will ever be perfect between the two of you, but you don’t need perfection or superficiality — not with her; you like dealing with the true, raw version of herself. there will be a moment — not now, but in the near future — where you’ll be brave enough to finish your confession; but for now, you keep it to yourself, tucked safely away in your heart, and enjoy the way your limbs are tangled with hers.

[greazyfloz]

“i told u to leave” and “why are u still here” for quinn hughes? thank u sm! and i love your work btw ❤️❤️

Leave

Angst: "I Told You to Leave" & "Why Are You Still Here" w/ Quinn Hughes

This one is a bit long!!

Quinn was on his way back home quickly from a meeting with his coach, and I was already ready. We had the Annual Dice & Ice Gala to attend, so I set up his suit nicely on the bed ready for him to put on.Quinn should be here soon so I put my pea coat on as Quinn entered through the front door of our apartment. “Your suit is on the bed!” I yell out behind him as he runs down the hall to the room to get changed quickly. After trying about 4 different heels on to see which one is the comfiest but nice fashionable before deciding on just black pumps.  

  Quinn comes from down the hall quickly planting a kiss on my cheek, “Thanks babe, ready to go?” he says bending down to tie his shoe. I open the door and he grabs it behind me, opening it wider before making our way down to the apartments parking garage together. 

When we get there Quinn opens his door and makes his way over to open mine as well. He grabs my hand to help me hop out and then hands his keys to the valet. We walk in hand and hand until we round the corner to the event’s lobby. He shrugs his hand away as we enter the room. I follow behind as Quinn makes his way to the coat check. We hand our coats before turning towards the event's doors. I reach out to grab Quinn’s hand and he shrugs my hand away again. I then just walk beside Quinn into the event. 

Since we got to the event I Quinn had given me a bad taste in my mouth, so I started to notice all the little things throughout the event. When introducing me he would say “this is Y/n” and that’s it. Meanwhile the rest like of the team like Brock would say “This is my girlfriend, Bella” to introduce their girlfriends. I felt like trash stuck to the bottom of his shoe all night because I was just following him around, he wouldn’t even talk to me.

When we were sitting at a table getting ready to watch whatever they had the rookies doing this year, investors and partners would ask questions about me, and Quinn would answer before I could say anything. As the night went on Quinn only made me feel less and lesser about myself. My breaking point was when he leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Would it kill you to smile?”. 

I felt a tear sting my eye. I gently pushed my chair behind me excusing myself from the table bringing my clutch bag with me. I headed to coat check to grab my coat, and ordered an uber.

When I got back to my and Quinn’s shared apartment. I kicked my shoes off at the door and I hear my phone ding. I see Quinn’s name on my phone. I turn the screen off then receive another text a couple minutes later from Quinn. I turn to the room and get ready for bed then return to the kitchen for a glass of wine. I pour some wine as the dings on my phone continues. ‘Maybe it’s time he feels stupid’ I thought to myself. 

I pour myself another glass as the door swings open and slams behind immediately scaring me as the apartment shakes. Quinn turns into the kitchen and slams his fist on the island, making me jump. “What the fuck was that?!” Quinn says

“I left” I said

“No fucking shit” Quinn starts, “You left me there by myself! You fucking embarrassed me infront of all of those people!” he yells

“Oh my God Quinn. Why would I stay? You didn’t make it very comfortable for me”

“Because your my girlfrie-”

“GIRLFRIEND?! OH NOW I’m your girlfriend?!” I say throwing my hands in the air chuckling at the end. “I thought I was just ‘Y/n’, You sat their and listened to how everyone introduced their girlfriends ‘this is my girlfriend, Bella’, ‘this is my wife, Lexi”, oh then there’s ‘this is y/n’.” I snapped reaching for my glass of wine taking a large gulp.

“YOU ARE SO FULL OF YOURSELF! Did you just hear yourself? You left because I didn’t introduce you as my girlfriend?!” Quinn shouts

“No! Well Yes! That is just one of many reasons!” I defend myself. Quinn takes a seat on one of the island chairs and looks at me.

“Well continue. What made me such a terrible boyfriend that you had to leave me at one of the biggest team outings of the year?” He says 

“You want me to list them off? Well one you wouldn’t even hold my hand, two, -”

“Oh shut the fuck up! All of your problems just sounds like you think I should be showing you off like your hot shit! He yells standing back up so hard the chair falls to the floor, walking towards me before getting inches to my face. “Well guess what, maybe you are as hot as you think you are” he says maliciously. 

“Fuck you!” I say pushing him away and opening the bottle of wine to pour more so I can bring it to bed. As I tip the bottle to the glass I look at Quinn and say “You aren’t as great as you think either” calmly. Quinn rips the bottle of wine out of my hand and throws it at the wall. The wine bottle crashed leaving a big red mess all over the kitchen. 

I look at the wall at the mess in shock, then turn to Quinn to see a soften face. Still in shock, I look at Quinn and say, “Get out” lightly. Quinn just watches me as I grab the paper towel and rush to clean the white kitchen. Frantically scrubbing the walls that stained quickly red as tears I said to myself wouldn’t fall, fell. As I was scrubbing I lost my balance landing in some of the glass, “Fuck!” I yelp. Before turning, sliding myself against the cupboards bringing my knees into my chest. Quinn then decides to grab a clothe a wet it bringing it to my hands

“You’re bleeding! Here get up, We will run it under the water.” He says. I get up and look at him with disgust.

“What the fuck?!” I start, “I told you to leave” I say quickly leaving to the room and locking the door.

A couple hours go by and I am awoken by the bedroom door knobs wiggling. “Y/n, please open the door” Quinn says. I get up and open the door to the bedroom looking at Quinn

“Why are you still here?” I say

“I want to listen. Tell me why you left. I won’t get mad, I just want to make it better” he says. I move to the side so he can come in. He goes over and sits on one side of the bed letting one leg hang off. 

“Tonight just made me realize that you don’t treat me like I’m your girlfriend. Half the time when we go out I feel like a groupie or something. I saw how the other guys treat their girlfriends in public and you can even do the bare minimum of saying ‘this is my girlfriend’” I start

“We-” Quinn tries to butt in

“No Quinn, I’m not done.” I say sternly, “You didn’t say one word to me even when I would ask you questions you found a way to walk away without answering. Then you ask me if it would kill me to smile. Quinn that is the only thing you said to me all night since you shrugged me off”. 

“I’m sorry. I know it is far to late but I-” Quinn starts but stands up, making his way to the door. I don’t have enough fight in me to ask where he is going so I just stay and cry until I am asleep. 

I wake up to see the clock reads 4:30am. I get up and make my way down the hall to the the TV on and a sleeping Quinn on the recliner in front of it. I open the blanket he has wrapped around him and cozy in beside him on the recliner. Quinn wakes a little to open his arms to pull me in. “I’m sorry for leaving” I say sadly

“Don’t apologize” he stirs “Just don’t leave me”

[korpuskat]

hello! ^^

I recently finished your rftw series with michael! the story is so good (/gen) and I’m so excited to see what the last part of cadence has in store! if you don’t mind me asking, are there any hope for it to be released? @-@

Cadence has been a thorn in my side ever since I started writing it. It's painfully close to being done, but I can never coax it into wrapping up. On the chance I never do finish it, here's my WIP (remember this is in context of Cadence's 15K part 1 before anyone comes at me for characterizaton lol):

(NSFW, vaginal sex, somnophilia, choking)

Cold. That’s the first thing you notice. Cold- and droning like white noise. Warmth still clings to your chest, but a chill creeps over-- Your eyes snap open, arms shooting out, searching the dark because <i>fingers</i> touched your side. What you find, of course, is broad shoulders and wobbly latex. Michael. But what you find is also <i>wet.</i>

You recoil first- hands disengaging as he continues what he’s doing: flipping the blankets over, which you must’ve crawled under in your sleep, and pulling harshly at your pants. A seam pops- and you mumble in frustration, undoing the buttons with half-asleep hands. As soon as it’s open, he rips them down your legs. You hiss, the fabric stinging like carpet burn down your thighs. He’s keyed up, too excited from a fresh kill to even care- your underwear is shredded before you can even lift your hips to pull it off. 

Fuck, it’s going to be one of those nights. 

One massive hand keeps you still, holds you hips in place while the other unzips his coveralls with a <i>zzzzt</i>. Electricity sparks in your belly; he’s going to fuck you. The thought of his cock alone makes your thighs press together, the sweet promise of release so tempting after the last two days. His knees press into the mattress, your whole body shifting as it dips under his weight- and he doesn’t even wait for you to get resettled. The hot head of his cock rubs blindly between your legs; you don’t bother concealing your gasp as he brushes your clit. 

In the darkness, it’s only you and him. Time and space fall away, nothing left in existence but his body moving against yours, the raw physical sensation of heat and pressure and each of his exhales echoing in the mask. Your fingers grab at his shoulders, just for an anchor, twist into the coveralls- and it’s wet. You shudder, imagine how he must look, coated head to toe in viscera, tracked blood straight to your suite and- 

You don’t smell iron. 

His clothes are wet, but they are also <i>cold</i>. The mask is just visible with the low moonlight that sneaks in through the curtains- and it’s clean. Cleaner than you remember ever seeing it, almost starkly white. One flop of synthetic hair hangs darkly, solidly, over his latex forehead. You trace your fingers up over the slightly melted edge, over rubbery ears. 

Michael forces himself inside you with one stroke; your cunt <i>burns</i> with the stretch, all limbs closing around him in desperation to keep him still. Tears spring to your eyes once more, teeth scraping open your bitten lip- and all you can do is tell yourself to breathe, to focus on the coming pleasure, because it will, it always does, no matter how cruel Michael chooses to be. 

So your snap your thighs closed around his waist, locking him deep inside while you clench and shiver in pain and shock and the first trembling whispers of <i>good</i> because <i>fuck</i>, he’s so <i>big.</i> Your walls flutter around him, body struggling to stretch to accommodate him. Warmth replaces the cool, radiates out from between your legs and- and something isn’t right. 

Michael should be drawing back, forcing your legs apart and pounding away until the fuel of his bloodlust has burned off, more animal than man- but he’s not. Rain water drips onto your chest, runs off the shape of his false face, the heavy noise of his breathing masked by the soft rumble of rain and thunder. Bent over you, he’s not quite <i>on</i> you like he normally is- no, he’s leaned away, enough for you to stare into the pitch black holes where his eyes should be. There’s no light to see the gray or white beneath, but they must be fixated on you. 

“Michael?” You murmur, too sleepy to mask the concern there. He doesn’t even tip his head. It’s not panic, not yet- if he thought he was in danger he wouldn’t be still like this, if it was some new type of sadism, there’d still be an air of it on him. This is… something new, something you haven’t yet been able to pick up the little signs of. 

Your hands unwind from his soaked coveralls, the joints creaking from the effort. The fabric is rough and even more abrasive still soaked with water, but you stroke his arms as best you can and seek out his face in the darkness. Without any reaction you skate higher, one hand dancing up his chest, just past the drooping collar, to the thin strip of skin visible between the rough cotton and smooth latex. 

“Michael…?” His name hangs on your lips- and he answers with his hips. 

The animal drive has disappeared entirely. It’s a smooth roll, shallow- cautious. Where you had expected force and pain is softness; you gasp, part shock and part pleasure- and Michael must take it as a good sign. He keeps this strange pace and you dig your fingers into the shoulders of his suit, squeezing more rainwater out with each thrust. Your body isn’t sure what to do- so used to producing quick, efficient lubrication, you’re nearly gushing for him now. This sort of kindness from Michael is foreign, saved for when he’s injured or sick or- or particularly cruel. But this <i>isn’t</i> that- it’s new. 

You can’t even begin to understand his motives- why he needs <i>this</i>- but you can still give it to him. When you wrap your arms behind his neck and pull him closer, he only resists for a moment. Closer- closer until you can hear his soft pants from behind the mask, feel the heat of his breath with each puff through the nose holes. 

When he shifts his weight, he slides deeper- stroking so gently along places that have only known his brutal paces. You gasp, pull his hips closer with your legs- and the tilt of his head towards your mouth is not at all lost on you. Without prompting, he expands upon the motion: sliding nearly all the way back out until you’re whimpering, aching for his return- and pushing in so slow, finding his way so deep within you until tears gather at your eyes. 

<i>”Michael,”</i> It’s a prayer, an acknowledgement, a <i>thank you</i>- 

His breath catches; if your hands were not on him you wouldn’t have even felt it. He keeps pace, betrays no other hints of his reaction- fucks you deep and slow, rolls his hips with each thrust, grinds against your clit so sweetly- but you felt it, that sharp little inhale. 

With his head tipped towards you, it’s hardly a stretch to reach the latex. Cool and as clean as you’ve ever known- you kiss blindly in the dark. It’s too smooth to be the lips, slightly puckered with melting- must be his cheek. It isn’t for long, because Michael turns, meets you halfway. The rubber lips taste like rain water, not at all like the cruel mouth that lies just beyond- the taste of blood on his tongue as sweet as vanilla frosting. You kiss him and all the while tension settles between his shoulders, radiates down his arms.

<i>”Michael,”</i> You repeat, this time with <i>purpose,</i> you scrape your nails against the harsh cotton of his coveralls to emphasize it. This time, it’s his hips- a thrust just too harsh to be completely controlled. It’s a spark to kindling; the kind of treatment your body’s been waiting for- and the “Yes!” that follows is not intentional at all. 

And still- in the darkness you <i>feel</i> his resolve, the decision he’s made- whatever game he’s playing. He doesn’t give in, as much as his fingers are threatening to tear the sheets, he slows- keeps his pace even. 

There is one thing, however, you’re sure he can’t resist. Delicately- as much as you can be while being fucked- you wrap one hand around his left wrist. He doesn’t react at all, hardly seems to notice- except with you tug at it, urge it away from its death grip on the sheets. This he tips his head at. “Michael,” You whine, tug again for emphasis. The mask tips the other way, his pace slowing with curiosity. He gives in, shifts his weight to his other arm, lets you move his hand- 

The seams <i>pop</i> to the left of your head, his grasp shearing through them as you guide his three-fingered hand to your throat. The weight of it alone has your pussy tingling, every nerve woken, waiting for him to deliver. You think, perhaps, you might be crazy to taunt him like this, to get this wet at the thought of him choking you. 

It’s not a thought for long.

The muscles in his palm twitch once before he adjusts the grip. His hand rises up, forces you head backwards and <i>squeezes</i>. Not a single moan escapes his grasp, but he must know- because the mask tips again, the empty back eyeholes boring straight into you, watching every reaction. And like that, his interest in being soft has evaporated. 

He fucks you- the same fervor you’d expected after a hunt finally manifesting with each thrust, his cock ricocheting inside you, gives no room for hesitation. It doesn’t matter- darkness is buzzing at the corners of your vision, eyes growing heavy and tired, barely able to keep awake if it weren’t for the force of Michael’s hips. You’re fading, head lolling with each impact- 

Michael’s grip loosens. Air floods your burning lungs- and you’d been so oxygen deprived you didn’t know how close you were. He doesn’t even let you moan; his hand closes around you again before any noise slips out. Your throat vibrates under his palm and you wonder if he knows you’re screaming his name as you tip over. With no air every feeling is amplified, your adrenaline-fried brain bringing every stimulus up and up until it’s unbearable. 

Clamping down on him as hard as you can doesn’t deter him at all; he fucks you without pause even as your mind frays. Heat pulses out from your pussy, radiates down your legs, up into your chest- and you arch your back up, press more of your skin to the cold cloth of his suit. Your nails rip at the sheets, at his back, at anything you can reach- you don’t even realize you’d been digging your knees into his sides until he grabs one and <i>forces</i> your legs apart, all his weight held on your femur. 

[elliewilliamslover]

The Archer

1. Alone And Forsaken

Here is the link to the description

Spring 2034... 

      Y/n sat on the dingy hospital bed taking in everything that Marlene had just told her. Shocked that they would have to kill Ellie to create the vaccine. There was no way to sugar coat that. She sat in silence that made her ears softly ring. Minutes, maybe even an hour went by when she heard gunshots not too far from the room she was put in. Slightly startled, she stood up from the bed and walked towards the door. She went to twist the knob and investigate the gunshots only to find that it was locked from the outside.

"Fuck me." She said under her breath, twisting the knob aggressively a couple more times. She takes a step back and looks around the room taking in her surroundings, looking for anything she could use as a weapon if anyone were to come in. Looking in the cabinets and drawers, she looked under the bed and found a rusty scalpel. "That'll do." She grabbed it and hid behind the door waiting. Minutes went by, probably a half an hour she estimated but she couldn't tell, she had no way of counting the minutes to hours. Soon she got tired of waiting for someone to burst in and fell asleep on the wall behind the door.

When she woke up she saw that she was now back on the hospital sheets with a firefly soldier standing guard at the door. "Uh, hello?" She was confused as to why there was a soldier standing at the inside of the door. "Miss Miller is it?" He said, "Yeah it is." She said with a hint of confusion in her voice. "You're father, Joel Miller escaped with the girl and killed tens of soldiers, I know that's a lot to take in but I'm sorry we will have to keep you here, with us until further notice." He said then stood up, leaving the room.

"What the fuck?" She said not believing anything he said or was it her just taking in the key things he said to her? She didn't care, all she could think about was why he would leave without his own daughter? She asked herself. What did she do wrong to make him choose to take Ellie instead of herself? A couple minutes of repeating those questions in her head she became filled with anger and rage and she destroyed the room, kicking the wall, punching the door and flipping the bed on its side. While she's destroying the room a girl angrily bursts in to confront her and watches the sight in front of her. A girl with y/h/c destroying the room, of course y/n didn't hear her storm in because she was too busy screaming in rage and throwing stuff everywhere to acknowledge the other being now in the room.

After two minutes of her raging she slides down the wall out of energy, along with being dehydrated and malnourished. With shaky hands in her face and tears forming in her eyes as a few small sniffles could be heard, she hears slow footsteps coming towards her and her head shoots up and eyes locked on to this girl with blonde hair pulled back into a braid slowly walking up to her as if she's making sure she doesn't make a wrong step to make the girl on the floor jump at her. Y/n notes that she has red, puffy eyes, like she's been crying a lot. She also looked severely out of it and weak, the girl that was approaching her stopped in front of her and came down to eye level in front of her,

"Are you his daughter?"

The blonde haired girl asked in a passive aggressive tone. A couple seconds went by, maybe even a minute and the girl against the wall looked up, tears slowly falling down her face as she said,

"Yes."

(The rest of the story will be better than this Chapter, trust me lol)

[kandisheek]

You asked for prompts, so maybe awkward fem!Bucky getting flustered and pines over very self-confident and amazing fem!Tony? 👀

Fuck yes, I love fem!Winteriron! Here we go.

---

Steve had expected many things when he’d brought Becky into the tower. Mistrust, tension and fear being chief among them.

What he hadn’t expected was to bear witness to Jane Rebecca Barnes, former maneater and ladykiller, becoming a nervous, insecure wreck. And not because of the brainwashing either.

“Would you quit fidgeting?” Steve asked, and Becky turned around to give him a glare that had probably sent many a man running for his life.

“I’m not!” She started pacing again, looking exactly like the nervous Nelly she’d always told him he was. “What time is it?”

Steve glanced at his watch. “Why?”

“Just –” Becky huffed. “What time?”

“You going somewhere?”

“No, I’m –” She whipped around at the sound of the elevator opening to reveal Toni Stark, dressed in a burgundy pantsuit.

“– gotta give me more than that if they want to –” she paused, pulling her phone away from her ear. “Did I miss lunch?”

“No, you’re right on time,” Becky said, and Steve raised an eyebrow at the way her hands were fidgeting where she’d clasped them behind her back, out of Toni’s view. “I just –”

“Great. Grab your shit, we’re going out.” Toni’s eyes fell on Steve. “You coming too?”

“He’s busy,” Becky blurted before Steve could say anything. She gave him a half-threatening, half-desperate glare that Steve had to make a real effort not to laugh at. He schooled his features and cleared his throat.

“Actually, I –”

“Yep, we should leave. Right now,” Becky said, drawing a finger across her throat as soon as Toni’s back was turned. Steve stuck his tongue out at her, and Becky’s frown deepened as she grabbed her jacket and flung it over her shoulders. Toni pouted as soon as she saw it.

“Hey, where’s your new coat?”

“Um.” Becky froze, looking like a deer in the headlights. “It’s… upstairs?”

“Did you not like it?” Toni asked, and Becky’s shoulders rose, a horrified look crossing her face.

“Did… Did you leave that in my room?”

“Who else?” Toni huffed, propping her hands up on her waist. “You won’t take my card to go shopping, so I did it for you.”

“I didn’t know you bought it for me,” Becky said, her voice a little too high-pitched, and Toni sighed.

“Is that a problem? Because I can knock it off if it bothers you. It’s just –” Toni made a frustrated noise, gesturing up and down Becky’s body. “Fuck, look at you! You’re a fucking bombshell, and all you wear are the same three black shirts!” Toni folded her hands, giving Becky the sort of puppy eyes she must’ve perfected when she was really small. “Please let me buy you some clothes? I promise they’ll match your style.”

“I –” Becky looked at Steve like she was begging for help, but Steve just shrugged. He’d gone through the exact same thing when he’d moved into the tower. Sometimes it was easier to just let Toni have her way.

“Come on, Jane,” Toni whined, hooking her arm through Becky’s and pressing in close. “You’re killing me here! Please, just one shopping trip, I promise I’ll leave you alone after.”

Steve pressed a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at the look on Becky’s face, the stiff way she held herself as Toni touched her. Holy shit, was she blushing?

“Okay, Toni,” she mumbled, and Toni whooped, dragging Becky into the elevator. Becky stumbled after her, uncoordinated and clumsy in a way Steve had never seen her. Steve wished he had a camera to capture the moment, if only so he could send it to Becky later.

Becky Barnes crushing on the richest woman in America? Oh, he would never let her live this down.

Steve watched them as the elevator doors closed and was surprised when Toni’s face slipped from her usual confident smile into something a lot more real. Something Steve would almost call fond, right up until Toni smirked, her eyes trailing down Becky’s body in a way that was hard to misinterpret.

Becky didn’t notice, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve, but Steve caught Toni’s eye across the room and raised an eyebrow at her. Toni stared right back at him, unashamed, and Steve let his eyes flick over to Becky before he frowned, making his position known without words. Toni gave him a tiny nod, stepping a little closer to Becky, and Steve smiled, reassured.

Poor Becky had no idea what she’d gotten herself into. And Steve would enjoy every minute of the show.

--

You can also find this fic on AO3, right here :)

[amazingmsme]

Curtwen hc time! Bc we always need some more of these. (And strap in theres a few—)

First things first, i ADORE your last hc with Curt finding out about Owen first. I love the lines of dialogue beforehand between the two of them so SO much. I like that Owen would be like "stop tickling!" rather than "stop tickling ME", makes him sound more british.

Alr here are my thoughts:

Curt obviously spends a lot of time on his hair to keep it ✨️perfect✨️, but actually so does Owen. Owen uses a lot of product to keep his longer hair silky and soft, while Curt uses product specifically for looks. SO Owen loves that when theyre making out his hair ends up all up in Curt's face. Curts squinting and squirming and like "Owehehen- use a hair tie!" and Owens like "I literally just washed my hair, I'm not going to ruin it now-" so Curt has to suffer through giggles.

I will always and forever adore Barb being unwillingly involved in the boys' lil games, SO— Curt keeps asking and asking Barb to buildnhim somrthing that'll help him get revenge on Owen, but he never specifies what he wants the invention to do. So Barb's like "Mega, if you cant tell me what you want the invention to DO, i cant make one for you!!" and Curt tries to explain it in the vaguest way possible so that 1) she doesnt think he only wants it for himself and 2) itll still do what he wants it to do. And wventually when she connects the dots she teases the hell outta him. Curt makes excuses about the 'bad guys' bring thrown offguard or itd be helpful in interrogations, but Barb says "no one would ever use tickling in an interrogation, Mega" and Curt doesnt have the willpower or pride to correct her.

Owen has ticklish arms. There i said it. He wore a tak top while he and Curt were cuddling, and Curt just traced lines up and down the soft skin of his inner/outer arm. He tries SO FREAKING HARD not to tense his muscles because he knows as soon as he does Curt will notice. So hes just like "Curt could you cut it out? You're nails are itching me." and tries to move out of the way. But Curt senses somethings up and prods him (figuratively and literally) about it until he spills. Owen's laughter from soft tickles is so much different from when he's "getting wreckt". Its very breathy and soft, and he covers his face with the back of his hand to hide himself, but doesnt actively lean away from the feeling. Curt gets heart-eyes and immediately wants to hear more. Owen's throwing insults at him to stop, but he just lays there giggling into the side of the couch.

Finally, LETS👏TALK👏ABOUT👏CURT'S👏TICKLISH👏EARS👏. Our canon. Our bread and butter. Curt originally hates wearing earpieces because Barb hadn't perfected the technology yet and it always buzzed. He got yelled at because one time on a very important mission in Budapest Curt was losing his gd mind with how tingly his ear was feeling and he had to take it off. When Barb couldn't get ahold of him, she knew she'd give him an earfull later. Curt also has issues with Owen. Now, Owen loves Curt's ears. He thinks theyre a cute shape and he loves that theyre so sensitive. Owen adores tracing them and pecking them. Depending on the day, Curt wil either get major goosebumps from Owen, or lose his shiy immediately as he did in the famous interrogation scene. Owen always keeps an ostrich feather in his coat pocket. He rarely uses it, but he likes that Curt knows its always there. Its like its watching him 👀

THAT is all i have, i know it is alot but i am obsessed w these two and i just aAA-

AAAAAAAAA THESE ARE SO FUCKING CUTE I’M DYING I NEED CPR STAT!!! These two are gonna kill me, they’re such fucking dorks I love them I love them I love them! & I love that it makes him sound more British, I didn’t even think of that but now that you pointed it out I can’t stop seeing it!

I absolutely LOVE the difference in hair care between the 2 because they both obsess over their hair in different ways. Curt will style & gel his hair before he even thinks about stepping out the door because he’s always gotta look his best. Meanwhile Owen takes fucking forever after his shower brushing it & putting products in it to help it grow, heal split ends, make it soft, literally the works. Curt’s always like what the hell takes you so long??? & Owen’s just like “you have your hair routine, I have mine”

But it makes his hair so silky smooth & soft & it’s the perfect length to brush against Curt’s neck & ears when they cuddle or make out & it makes him so blushy & giggly because wtf hair shouldn’t tickle! But Owen absolutely loves the fact that he doesn’t even have to use his hands to get him laughing

On a related note, his stubble is the bane of Curt’s existence, it should be illegal

& omg Barb is constantly flipping between extremely amused & very annoyed, these boys never give her a fucking break! She’s so patient with Curt trying to find out what the fuck he actually wants from her, but he won’t stop beating around the bush & is being vague af. So she’s just like “damn if you can’t even say it you can’t be trusted with it” & then he tries to make more of an effort to actually describe what it is he’s looking for & she just gets more amused by the second. & when she says no one would use that in an interrogation he like mumbles under his breath something like “well Owen did” or “must be an MI6 thing” & he’s just being classic sassy Curt but she hears what he said & is like wait a fucking second. “Curt you can’t be serious. Agent Carvour is a professional” & he’s getting flustered & huffy & just goes “yeah, a professional pain in my ass. So can you make it or what?” She has it ready for him by lunch the next day & demands a “full report” on the device’s performance. She even had a sticky note with it that just says “give him hell ;)”

FMVRMAGELW I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH RN! TICKLISH ARMS ARE SO UNDERRATED! Sorry for yelling but this really has me in a chokehold. Owen is pretty averagely ticklish in all the normal spots, but I like to imagine he’s a lot more sensitive in harder to reach or more unconventional spots like his arms. Light touches here drive him up the fucking wall ok, he cannot take it whatsoever. Immediately breaks down in a fit of giggles. He tries to hold out, but breathy snickers always force their way out as he squirms around trying to suppress his wide dopey ass grin. Curt thinks it’s the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen in his life, & he’s right. His forearms are pretty bad & he can’t help but twitch away with a huff of laughter when Curt brushes over the skin there. But his biceps? That’s a good way to kill him. Light tickles there will have him in shrill hysterics & squeezing the muscle will draw out full on belly laughs. Owen didn’t even know he was ticklish there until Curt, & so he was really trying to hide the spot from the both of them. Because what a stupid fucking spot to be ticklish, he did not need to know how sensitive that spot was & he really didn’t need Curt to find out either. But he can’t lie to him, so they went in a little journey of discovery together

Bro we’re so damn lucky that we got canon ticklish!Curt I literally couldn’t believe it! & on his ears no less, like that is legit one of my favorite spots! It’s just so sweet & cute & the way people giggle & scrunch their neck for protection is so kxganssmabfi & that’s his literal introduction to the show!!! Like he legit goes from suave spy who never cracks under pressure to cutest giggly dork in the world in seconds flat! Like wtf they can’t do that to me! But I fucking LOVE how he can’t handle the ear piece because he’s too sensitive there & he just straight up ditches it! & when they ask him about it he’s all dodgy & embarrassed & not giving a straight answer until Cynthia threatens not to pay him for the assignment if he can’t answer her & he just blurts it out, blushing so much & Cynthia just scoffs like “Jesus Mega, that’s it? Why didn’t you just say so, no need to make such a big fucking deal out of it” & he’s so shocked because he honestly expected a lecture about how a spy shouldn’t be ticklish, but she was cool with it??? & she can kinda sense what he’s thinking so she says “look, we’re all human, I get it. I’ll get Barb to make some adjustments” & he thinks that’s the end of it but now she just uses it to tease the shit out of him when he’s least expecting it

His ears are Owen’s absolute favorite spot because Curt is soooo cute & giggly when he tickles him there & it’s one of his worst spots, & he’s a bit of a masochist & likes to bully his boyfriend. & I’m fucking dying thinking about him carrying around that feather all the time “just in case” like just imagine the first time Curt stumbles upon it! Maybe he’s looking for something in his pocket or grabbing his jacket for him & he just freezes & turns completely red. & he pulls it out & looks at Owen like “what the fuck is this???” & Owen looks up & smirks like “well you should know what that is” all smug & shit & he fucking has the audacity to wink at him. He knows exactly what he’s doing, & Curt really can’t handle it

Also worth noting: this is one of the top pics that comes up when you google Owen Carvour

I love them so very much, if you couldn’t tell