#the spray paint is going to come back i promise

[ninguitar]

୨୧　𝓧O TATTED ALL OVER HER BODY　˒˒　MMB

─── ﹙🎱﹚wanting to get your first ever tattoo, you take a recommendation from one of your college friends' on which parlor to go to, and which specific tattoo artist—meret manon bannerman, who was ultimately drop-dead gorgeous.

pairing. tattoo artist!manon x f!r genre. fluff wc. 1.7k+ notes. missing manon sb nd i JUST saw the clip of her w dominic fike w a cigarette in her hand. 💔💔 all the freaks on twt nd tt hating on her gmfu 😒 ⚠️ PLEASE NOTE THAT I DO NOT CONDONE THE DEPENDENCE ON ANYTHING NICOTINE-RELATED—IF EVER USED, USE IT AT A MODERATE PACE. ( MASTERLIST )

now playing ⋆ timeless by the weeknd, ft. playboi carti

THE BUZZING OF TATTOO GUNS spread across the parlor, as manon runs a hand through her hair, adjusting her white tank top and leather jacket. a cigarette remains slack in between her index and ring fingers, a sigh drifting from her lips. contrasting her cold demeanor was the hello kitty lamp sitting on her desk accompanied by a tattoo gun.

grabbing disinfectant spray, the ghanaian girl meekly disinfects all the surfaces, sterilizing all her equipment. tattooing other people's bodies—leaving parts of herself and her art forever on them—always seemed magical to manon, and so, she started in highschool, buying a shitty tattoo gun online. eventually, while at high school parties, she'd take commissions from people begging her to etch designs into their skin, usually taking cash as payment—sometimes nicotine, even.

simple, rugged designs on random people's skins at parties eventually turned into nights spent in her bedroom, practicing her apprenticeship by cross-hatching designs on mannequins. every night, the ghanaian girl would be at home, cornered in her bedroom—sometimes with her friends to keep her company—shading with pointillism from designs she found.

meret manon bannerman was never the type to really think about tattooing newbies, especially with the way her temper sometimes ran short, barely able to have the patience to deal with their face. however, because of her charming character, her co-workers usually assigned her to tattooing newbies, never letting her protest.

grabbing her phone, a myriad of notifications pop up on her lock screen. her eyes narrow at seeing daniela's name pop up, as she swipes up.

dani: turn the lights off before u leave manon. dani: if i see that the electric bill is high again im gonna fr gonna pocket ur paycheck

manon huffs, though a smile tugs the corners of her lips, before her thumbs move a mile a minute, typing back cheeky responses.

manzanita: i willll promise 🤗🤗 manzanita: pocket my paycheck nd im telling ur mom.

the ghanaian girl plops her phone onto the counter, setting it face down. the bell at the front door rings, making manon slightly jolt up, a chain of shivers running down her back. a muffled curse escapes her breath, as she whips her head towards the front door, noticing you gingerly leaning against the front door.

"i- one of our mutual friends, lara, suggested for me to come here. i don't know if she told you considering the look on your face," you shrug, your voice barely above a whisper. with the ghanaian girl nodding, you saunter towards her, a meek smile on your face.

"yeah, she told me—just didn't think you would be so… gorgeous," she bluntly drawls out, making you cock your head to the side. a giggle escapes your breath, both your cheeks and ears tinted with flushness. a small puff of amusements leaves your plush lips, shaking your head.

"look at you—talented, creative, and stunning," you reciprocate her energy, a wide grin painting your face. the ghanaian girl pats the seat beside her at her station, beckoning for you to sit down. you slowly sit down, your heart practically pounding—your first tattoo, and it was done by the most gorgeous girl ever?

an unbearable grin quirks up at the corners of her lips, your words garnering a chuckle from her, "yeah, you think so? you new—to tattooing, i mean?" her eyes trail from your eyes down to your lips, her gaze piercing. with your eyebrows furrowed and knitted together, you nod sheepishly at her question.

"no need to worry 'bout the pain; you got me," she lets out a giggle, making your heart tremble at the thought of a tattoo gun against your arm, held by a pretty girl, at that. the ghanaian girl crushes the cigarettes in her hand, disposing it into the ashtray by the window. she continues, "trust me; i've gotten a few tattoos and piercings."

"you got any ideas?" manon asks, as she disinfects her supplies once more, being cautious, especially with somebody who was only getting their first tattoo. that same smile lingers on her face, wanting to try to rid the worry lines creasing your forehead.

you shake your head, "still dunno what to get, i just know i want it on my hand. any ideas from you? i know you have good ideas in that head of yours." your eyesbrows furrow in question, your eyes fixating on the girl's features. a smile dances on her cheeks, almost elated to recommend any.

"what category? like funny, memorable, y'know," manon bites the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from just pressing your velvety lips against hers. her eyes scan your features, trying to think of an idea.

"surprise me?" you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper, as your gaze softens, your breath hitching in anticipation. and manon was just a simple girl—a girl who couldn't help but indulge in your pleas, especially when you were the textbook definition of adorable.

and so, over and over again, the needle of her tattoo gun hits against your delicate skin. sometimes it breaks, though other times, your skin is left raw and swollen. her dark eyes bore into your face, chuckles escaping her breath at the way you tried to suppress your winces.

a smile dances at her cheeks, "you okay, pretty?" making your heart pound. you nod, your eyes bright, as you ease into manon's touch, the needle lifting every few minutes to give you some clarity. she rubs your shoulder gently while pausing, before continuing.

while she continued, you mindlessly rant on and on about work, your mouth running miles a minute. words spill from your lips, as the ghanaian girl softly hums, showing indication that she was listening. every few minutes, she makes small, humorous quips, playing along to your jokes.

"y'know hand tattoos can fade away easily," manon hums, her hand rubbing against yours to soothe your worries. she sucks a breath in through her teeth before continuing, "it's a shame, isn't it?"

"i could always come back to you—no big deal," you shrug, taking deep breaths to suppress the sounds of pure pain escaping you.

"already wanna see me again? i'm just that great, aren't i?" she teases, as she wears a shit-eating grin on her face. that same grin morphs into a smirk, the corner of her lips lifting into one hastily. manon cocks her head to the side, her eyebrows slightly raising.

the ghanaian girl continues, faking a questioning face, "well, i don’t know. you may have to convince me to do a touch-up on it." she scrunches her eyebrows, giggling.

a pout juts on your lips, "i could take you out for dinner, or well, advertise you! the same way lara does—always talkin' about your beautiful self and your work." you taunt, giving her a gentle smile.

"trying to bribe me now—wow! did not expect that," manon coaxes, as her gaze fixates back on your hand, the needle leaving marks on your hand. as she finishes it up, she softly hums. standing up, manon grins at her work.

the tattoo had come out flawless, the cross-hatching done by the girl practically perfect. you blink your eyes, almost shocked at the sheer precision and patience needed for the perfect thickness of the lines; you knew manon was talented, but fuck.

on your hand was a crown etched onto it; you didn't know the meaning of it at all, but you could tell it meant something to the ghanaian girl. breaking your train of thought was her gentle, melodic voice.

"you like it?"

"'course i do! holy shit," you exclaim, immediately standing up, and pressing yourself against manon, wrapping your arms around the ghanaian girl's neck. safe to say, you were practically over the moon.

raising her fists, manon reciprocates your sheer enthusiasm, "i've won! you ought to take me on that dinner date, y'know." your eyes widen at her request, your eyebrows shooting up, alongside your smile wide. excitement bled from you, traveling through your veins.

shameless, without little thought in your head, you plea, "really? we have to!" your pleas elicit a series of chuckles from manon, the girl rubbing your shoulder. catching her breath, she nods.

"you and i, tomorrow night. i get off my shift earlier tomorrow," the ghanaian girl proposes, her eyes scanning your face for any indication of emotions. in response, you press your lips against manon's cheek gently.

"see you then, pretty girl," you drawl, slipping your payment into her pockets, as you saunter away.

tucked away in a small, up-scale restaurant in the heart of the beach, you and manon made quip remarks towards one-another. with your cheeks and ears flushed, you kept a lingering smile adorning your face. the moon hung low in the sky, as you two look out the window, your gazes' tracing the stars. a giggle escapes your breath, as your hand cups manon's jaw, gently drawing patterns on her cheeks.

shortly, though, the ghanaian girl dragged you to the waves, swinging you around in exhilaration. sitting down on the sand, you two ease against one-another's touch, interlacing hands. the beach ripples crashing harshly contrast your guys' gentle touches, the dark, midnight-hued water glimmering.

"thank you for this date," manon murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, as she swallows a lump down her throat, "maybe i'll actually touch-up your tattoo now." her words elicit a giggle from you, as you nudge her.

feeling the breezy, cold air hitting against your skin, you take deep breaths—only for the ghanaian girl to cover your shoulders in her jacket. a wide, animated grin plasters her face, making you swoon in endearment.

"what was the crown for anyway?" you mumble, turning your head to face the girl, as you raise your hand up, your new crown tattoo now in sight. she shakes her head, her gaze softening.

"it's like, a light of hope—just a small touch from me to you," manon rasps out, leaning further towards you, as her eyes were practically of hearts while etched on your lips. your lips fall open, as the ghanaian girl presses her lips against yours, her touch firm and precise.

her hands find its way to your hips, your breath hitching. a playful glint appears in manon's eyes, as she nips at your lower lip, her kisses fervent and magnetic. your hands meet her neck, the ghanaian girl shivering at the trifling lace of your cold hands.

"i better get that touch-up for my tattoo if it fades away," you playfully assert, now straddling the girl's lap, as you cup her cheeks, tenderly squeezing them. before you could press your impatient lips against manon's, her phone blares out a ding.

dani: you forgot to turn the lights off today.

xo tatted all over her body, yeah (body, yeah)

she just wanna roll, and i don't mind it, yeah

taglist. ୨ৎ @lararajjj @kisshae @sed7ction @yeetaberry127 @vrtualstar

@jellaaa @artrizzler19 @falling-intoo-deep

[theweirdestroller]

Crime Time!! Arts and Crafts

Stop my doomsday clock! This is my big update for today! Please do not hunt me for sport. I've fulfilled my end of things. I wanted to do a more birthday themed thing as it is my birthday today!! However, that didn't work out, buuuutttt, I do have this!

It's some more from my criminal au based off of @cubbihue's au! Hope y'all enjoy!!

Despite the apartment Mugsy, and now Peri, called home looking rather... run-down, once you’re outside the building, it isn’t too bad. The grounds have a lot of foliage, most of it growing where it shouldn’t, but it was still beautiful nonetheless. Sure, it was mainly grass and weeds, but it was still green.

Peri was taking his time enjoying the view, wandering aimlessly around the complex, trying to make his new human legs stronger. Because the reason they were so different had to be that they were new and he was unused to them. His parents walked around flawlessly, though they still had their magic, so that couldn’t be ruled out. But Peri wasn’t fond of how tired and weak his legs felt. The cane helped some, but he didn’t want to always rely on it like some humans.

It was during this wandering that Peri came across a section of sidewalk he hadn’t noticed before. It was somewhat cleaner than the rest of the path he had been walking, and clearly led somewhere that wasn’t one of the buildings. Peri veered off his current path and decided to follow this new one. It wasn’t anything too different, in fact, it looked much like the rest of the sidewalks.

Up until it led into a garden. It wasn’t a very healthy looking garden, with many of the plants rather small and pitiful, if not wilted, but it was something new. Peri stepped around the planters and wandered deeper into the little garden, coming across a wall. It was concrete and not quite taller than Peri. It was very random, but probably made sense to humans. Stepping around the wall revealed-

“Mugsy?” The brunette human glanced up from where he was crouched beside the wall.

“Oh. Hey Peri. I see you’ve found the garden,”

“What are you doing?” Mugsy pulled a black duffle bag into Peri’s line of sight and removed a can of spray paint from the bag.

“Art. The wall’s left over from a project that the complex never finished. I got permission to practice here. Susan’s in charge of the rest of the garden,”

“You? Permission?” Peri snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Mugsy waved Peri off and shook the can.

“The wall is probably the best part of this whole area,” Peri commented, sitting down next to Mugsy.

“Eh. For right now. Susan’s been visiting family. She’ll be back. I think.” There was a moment of silence, with the exception of the can. “I wouldn’t blame her if she just left,”

“Do you want to leave?”

“I- I’m not sure. I don’t really have anywhere else to go... Maybe if I found the right place,” Mugsy tested out the can on the wall. It left a quick, neat line of yellowy-orange paint in its wake. “And what about you? You have plans that aren’t crashing on my couch?”

“Excuse you! I’ll have you know that crashing on your couch is a perfectly good plan!” Mugsy choked out a startled laugh.

“Sure buddy, sure.” The human continued painting on the wall, each new line capturing Peri’s attention. Mugsy watched with amusement as he painted, his roommate not unlike a cat watching a laser pointer.

“Say,” Mugsy started, pausing his work so Peri would actually listen instead of remaining in his weird zoned out state. “You ever used spray paint?”

“No? Why?” A wide grin spread across Mugsy’s face. He sifted through his bag and retrieved a can of purple spray paint before tossing it to Peri.

“That one should be good to go. Give it a try!” Peri caught the can just before it smacked him in the face.

The fairy popped off the cap and held it up like Mugsy had done earlier. With hesitant pressure, he pushed down on top causing a short, and to Peri, startling, spray of paint. On the wall in front of the pair was now a messy looking splotch of purple covering Mugsy’s earlier work.

“I’m so sorry!!” Peri gasped out, nearly dropping the can from flinching back.

“It’s fine!!” Mugsy said quickly. “I can redo that, no problem. Buuuuutttt, do you want to help me out?”

“How? I don’t even know how to use this thing...”

“That’s the fun part! You learn as you go! And we can come back to this wall any time,” Mugsy slung an arm over Peri’s shoulder. “We can stay sitting and work down here if you’d like, or I bring a chair out if you want to work higher up,”

“Uh, sitting’s fine... Maybe we can bring a chair another time?” Mugsy smiled and nodded, looking rather excited that he’d be apprenticing his new roommate in all matters of spray paint.

–

It was nearly evening when the pair had finished. The sun was still lazily making its way back down, and the lamps for the complex had turned on, with a few completely out and one sadly flickering away. The wall was covered in various colors, from Mugsy’s preferred yellowy-orange, to Peri’s more magenta hue. Between those smatterings were a multitude of shades coming together to make a somewhat recognizable scene. It was the familiar view from the apartment window that Mugsy and Peri saw every morning. It overlooked a small part of the city, just before the start of the towering buildings and busy streets. There were a few trees, some street lights, and a silhouette of a person walking down the sidewalk.

Looking at it now that it was all done, Peri could still tell what parts he worked on versus what parts Mugsy did. The biggest giveaway was the increase in purple, and messy lines. But it looked nice.

“Wanna sign it?” Mugsy asked, offering Peri a black sharpie. Peri took it and quickly wrote his name in loopy cursive. A simple “Peri” with no last name or initial. Mugsy signed it after. Peri didn’t look at the name he wrote, more because he forgot than him not wanting to know his friend’s real name.

The two made it back to the apartment shortly after, and heated up leftovers for dinner. Well- Mugsy heated up leftovers, Peri tried to eat a donut and call it a day.

[shanastoryteller]

Sam seems convinced this is going to work, but Dean’s pretty sure it’s just a load of crap. Bobby’s even more convinced that it’s a whole lot of nothing, although he had admitted that he couldn’t read every symbol that Sam had added to this mess up devil’s trap. That didn’t mean it would work. It just meant that Sam had thrown everything he could think into it.

The real reason that Dean is going along with this, and probably Bobby is too, is because it means that Sam wouldn’t be alone after Dean is dragged to hell. Although standing in the middle of Bobby’s junkyard in a mess of spray paint isn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend the last hour of his life.

“You really think Lilith is going to show?” he asks. He doesn’t know why she would. She just has to send the hellhounds, who’s howls and yips Dean has been hearing for days. And those things have never been stopped by any sort of devil’s trap.

“Yes,” Sam says, tense, not looking at him.

That’s another thing. For weeks Sam has barely looked at him, barely talked to him. Which sucks, because he’d really wanted to spend the last weeks of his life just looking and talking to and spending time with his brother, but Sam hadn’t been interested in that. At all.

He shares a look with Bobby, who just shrugs, hands tight on his shotgun.

Then the hellhounds come, just like he knew they would, no Lilith in sight. “Sammy,” he says, reaching out for his brother. Not because he thinks he can do anything, but because he wants to touch Sam one last time, one last memory to sustain him through hell.

Sam snaps out his hand and the hellhounds go skittering back, letting out pained yowls.

Dean stares, not understanding. “What did you – wait. You can see them?”

Only he should be able to see them. He’s the one that made the deal.

Sam still won’t look at him, damnit, even as Dean fists his hand in the back of his shirt. Sam's voice is low and pained when he says, “I’m sorry.”

Fear clenches in his gut. But before he do anything, there are demons surrounding the devil’s trap, appearing one by one in Bobby’s junkyard. They’d needed to take down his protections so Lilith could get in, but they hadn’t expected this. Of course she brought a freaking audience.

“Which one of you is Lilith?” he barks out, dragging Sam behind him. He refuses to let the last thing he sees be his brother hurt, or worse.

Dozens of demons stand there, human vessels with pitch black eyes. The hellhounds whimper and slink around them, but don’t seem interested in getting any closer. Dean can’t blame them.

Sam pries his hand off of him, stepping away before Dean can grab onto him again. He leaves the safety of the devil’s trap, which is fucking stupid. Dean’s lunging forward to stop him, but then there’s Bobby’s arm holding him back, face pale with a horror Dean doesn’t understand. He hadn’t looked like that even at Cold Oak, when they’d seen the gates open to hell.

The demons bow.

He blinks, not understanding what he’s seeing.

Sam is standing there in front of them, no protections, and they’re all bowing to him.

Except one.

Ruby is there, stupid red leather jacket and blonde hair and the smirk he hates so much. She walks around the demons up to Sam, who’s face is cold and expressionless. “She’s coming.”

“I know,” he says. “If this doesn’t work, I’m going to kill you.”

“Promise?” she returns. “If this doesn’t work, death will be a mercy.”

Dean tries to push Bobby off of him, to get in between Sam and this bitch, but he doesn’t let go.

Then there’s a little girl in a white dress, head tilted to the side. “Something here belongs to me.”

Ruby flinches, stepping just slightly behind Sam.

“Not you,” she sneers. “You haven’t belonged to me in a long time, I fear. You really think that this boy can save you?”

“Sam,” Ruby says.

He sighs, like this is a trial, and raises his hand.

Lilith’s sneer drops from her face. Her upper body yanks forward, but her legs won't move. “You bastard,” she snarls, raising her hand in return, but nothing happens.

For the first time, fear flickers across her face.

Ruby steps forward, her own terror swallowed up by arrogance, by delight.

Dean tries to move, but finds he’s just as frozen as Lilith, even more so. He can’t twitch a single muscle. Going by Bobby’s unnatural stillness next to him, he assumes he’s in the same boat.

“Samuel is the heir of the light bringer,” Ruby says. “He has taken his birthright. You can’t touch him.”

What’s she talking about? What birthright?

What has Sam done?

“No,” Lilith snarls. “He’s nothing more than one of Azazel’s experiments.”

“A night, a full day, and then morning,” Ruby says. “That’s what he was. Then he rose on the third day.” She shoots a mocking look his way. “If it weren’t for his brother, he would have died nothing more than a failed experiment. But he has risen.”

No. What does that mean? What’s she saying? He had just wanted Sammy back.

Did he do this? Is this his fault?

“Ruby,” Sam says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Right, right,” she sighs. Then, back to gleeful, “Her eyes.”

Sam’s finger twitches and Lilith’s eyes bleed black tears.

She screams, the sound even worse because her vessel is a child.

Ruby lists thing after thing, pulling out her fingernails, peeling her skin. Her blood is black, none of it red, and the injuries shouldn’t really be hurting her but they clearly are. Dean watches helplessly as Sam tortures Lilith at Ruby’s command, enacting one terrible thing against her after another.

Lilith lies there, moaning, limbs broken, body in pieces.

“That’s enough,” Sam says.

“Enough?” Ruby hisses, turning to face him. “You know what she did to me! She – she–”

Sam’s stoic mask breaks, creasing in sympathy. Dean would prefer it wasn’t for a demon, for Ruby, but at least he now recognizes his brother. He raises his free hand to her head, his touch an oddly gentle counterpoint to everything he’s done to Lilith. “I know. But it’s enough.”

Tears glint in her eyes, just for a second, then she swallows and nods, stepping away from Sam’s hand.

He steps forward, crouching in front of Lilith. “You shouldn’t have come after my brother. Now we both have to live with the consequences.” His mouth twists. "So to speak."

Whatever she would have said in response is lost in her screams. Black smoke pours from her, then lights up, like a spark in steel wool, the fire moving through her reminding him almost of the Colt.

Lilith dies. Sam kills her, no Colt, no devil’s trap. Nothing but his own terrifying powers.

“Will you bow to me now?” he asks.

Ruby tears her eyes from Lilith’s corpse and her irritating fucking smirk slides back into place. “Now?” She steps closer, tilting her head back almost like she’s about to kiss him, then falls gracefully to her knees in front of him. It looks more like she’s about to give him a blowjob than a form of subservience, but he thinks that for a moment Sam almost seems amused. “I bowed to you first.”

“So you did,” he says softly. He raises his voice. “Move out. Casey. You know your job.”

“Yes, sire,” says one of the demons, voice almost familiar.

Then Sam’s walking away, Ruby just a step behind him. The other demons follow suit, the hellhounds not even glancing at Dean as they get caught up in the procession.

Sam still won’t look at him. He only sees the back of his brother’s head as he leaves him behind

The only demon left is Casey. He knows her, he recognizes her, the demon he’d been trapped with in that city full of sin, the one that Sam had shot and killed. He’d seen him kill her.

She gets to her feet, offering him a smile as she draws closer. “Hello, Dean. I bet you never thought you’d see me again.”

She steps right into the devil’s trap and presses a hand to him and Bobby each. As soon as she touches them, they’re able to move, darting away from her and leaving her stuck in the devil’s trap.

“What the hell was that?” he asks, wishing his voice wasn’t shaking, but he has more important things to worry about.

She turns to face them. “Samuel does not want you to die. He did what he had to do to ensure you wouldn’t.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Bobby asks gruffly.

“I told you back then I was ready to follow Sam,” she says, stepping out of the devil’s trap like it’s nothing, which she definitely shouldn’t be able to do. Bobby hadn't thought that this thing would be able to contain Lilith, but Casey’s nowhere near Lilith’s level. It should work on her just fine.

Bobby’s hand darts out, throwing holy water over her, but it doesn’t so much as steam.

She just looks amused. “That won’t work on me now. Neither will an exorcism, or any of the usual tricks. I have been purified.” She holds out her hand to Dean and it’s the Colt, the one that they’d lost when Bela sold it. “This is the only thing that will kill me now.”

“And you’re just handing it over?” Dean asks.

“I have my orders,” she says steadily. “Samuel wants you to have it.”

His entire body goes gold.

“What do you mean purified?” Bobby asks, shooting Dean a concerned look. “You’re a demon. Purifying you should kill you.”

“And was Lucifer a demon?” she asks. “I have taken the sacrament.”

Dean doesn’t know what that means, but Bobby’s expression shifts from disgust to shock to a horror filled curiosity. “You drank Sam’s blood?”

She did what?

“I have taken the sacrament,” she repeats, lifting her chin. “Samuel purified me.”

How the hell would Sam’s blood do that? Why had she drank it in the first place? She’s a demon, not a damn vampire. Dean pushes those questions aside and instead asks, “How are you even alive?”

“Samuel resurrected me,” she says. First he can kill demons, and now he can bring them back? “He knows we had a rapport and he thought it would be easier if it was me.”

“What would be easier?” he asks. His head is spinning and his heart hurts and he doesn’t understand anything that just happened. At least being dragged to hell would have been simpler.

She presses the Colt into his hands. “Samuel doesn’t want you to die. He knows this will be difficult for you, that you’ll make poor choices. I have my orders. I am to stay with you and keep you alive. We’re going to get to know each other very well, Dean.”

“Like hell,” he says gruffly, hand tightening as he takes the Colt and raises it to her head. “What’s to stop me from killing you?”

“The same thing that will stop you from killing Samuel,” she says and he flinches. “Nothing.”

He stares at her. He can’t bring himself to speak.

“You’ll have to hunt him down the old fashioned way,” she says casually. “But if you can find him, you can kill him. We’re all under orders not to touch you. Samuel won’t stop you if you want kill him. The same way I won’t stop you if you want to kill me.”

“Why?” he asks.

She shrugs. “It’s always been up to you, Dean. He trusts you. If you decide that he must die, then he’s willing to die.”

Dean sold his soul for him. He’s not going to fucking kill him.

But the Sam he sold his soul for wasn’t capable of doing that to Lilith. He wouldn’t have even wanted to be.

“What about your demon lover?” Dean asks, thinking of the priest that Casey had embraced and kissed, the demon she’d begged to spare Dean’s life before Sam had killed them both. “Sam bring him back too?”

Grief chases across her face before she smooths it away. “He will. If I am good, and obedient, and loyal, then Samuel will bring him back for me.”

Dean’s stomach rolls to hear Sam described like that, like some sort of tyrant or king. Like Dad. “You really believe that?”

Casey meets his gaze steadily as she echoes the words she’d said to him in that basement as she spoke of Lucifer, except now she’s talking about his brother. “I have faith.”

[silentium-symphony]

Autumn-disiac (Link x Reader) SMUT

a/n: sorry i've been gone for awhile! here's some ~fun stuff~ to make up for lost time ;) i haven't really written anything in awhile, so please bear with me as i get back into the swing of things!

cw: minors dni, afab!reader, link going FERAL over his meal :), reader is just a sobbing horny mess LOL, praising, cunnilingus, overstimulation, porn w/o plot, christ what the hell did i write

wc: 595

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The return of autumn heralded many things. Those sick of summer's swelter happily traded in sweat-yellowed tank tops for cozy, chunky knit cardigans. Fur-lined pants and leaf-patterned smocks replaced rustic shorts, and other summer apparel was shelved for the next growing season. Mothers' calls for their children chime earlier and earlier, paralleling the harvest darkness that encroached sooner in the day. Heroic epics crafted from the day's play are often discarded at the door, forgotten, as children are embraced by their mothers first and the smells of her cooking second.

Beyond the intimate comforts of home lie the wilds, which have since been shadowed with deep magenta. A thin spray of mist rolled down the hills, carrying with it the softest hint of moved air. The breeze, chilled by the beginnings of the harvest season, lapped at a set of blurry windows fogged from within.

A tongue, moistened with your sweetness and honeyed with sinful whispers, dragged the edge of ecstatic muscle up and down your abused folds. A brittle sob erupted from your chest as you tossed sweat-pressed locks from your forehead.

"L-Link, we've been at this for hours..."

"I know, baby, I know. You're doing so well. Just one more round, okay? You know how much I need this sweet pussy."

Your beloved's sultry purr rumbled through your core, sending bolts of electricity through pleasure-numbed nerves. Calloused palms sunk into your soft, supple thighs as he urged you forward and back with a gentle sway.

"Mm... Rock your hips for me... That's it, that's it, love..."

The sounds of desperate suckling and pussy-drunk groans brimmed the air with sickeningly sweet depravity. The musk of hours-long sex perfumed your senses into a mindless, blissed-out mush, electrified only by the occasional flick of your clit or the teasing teething from the man below. Leaning back slightly, you rested your shaky arms atop Link's thighs, doing little to still his erratic and involuntary pistoning--a futile attempt to fuck the hole he was currently feasting.

"That's it, hun, lean on me. I'll take care of ya, promise."

That all-too familiar tension was mounting deep in your gut, threatening to spill over and drown the man underneath. Honed in on your tells, Link initiated a dangerous combo of tongue and finger, alternating between fucking and rubbing until your vision blurred with more tears and your throat burned with more pleas.

"Mm... You want it, yeah? Does my beautiful, perfect girl wanna cum for me? Hm? Wanna cum, baby?"

"P-Please...! Link, I'm so close, please let me cum! Please let me cum! Plea--!"

A burning white throbbed through your core, snapping the thread that dangled your last bits of sanity over the velvety abyss. A searing light, hot and addicting, temporarily blinded you as you felt yourself fall back onto a sticky body.

A loud cry buzzed through your subconscious as something hot and wet squirted all over your front, painting your tits and stomach with thick threads of white. Pleasure-stricken convulsions rocked his body as more heat spilled onto you.

No energy could be expended to bask in the final afterglow, your eyelids weighted by an exhaustion you had never known. Some shuffling, and soon, the hot stickiness on your back and front was cooled by a wet rag. What could vaguely be recognized as fingers combed through the undoubtedly sweaty, tangled bird's nest formed atop your head. Soft, lovestruck murmurs coming from your beloved hastened you quicker into slumber.

You could only hope he understood your gurgled hum as an 'I love you.'

(Don't worry, he did).

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

128 of the angst prompts for the pAInter?

128) '"I need you, why do you always leave me?"

......

"Heyyyy."

"......."

"Suddenly you don't wanna talk? That's rude."

"Well so is turning my body into swiss cheese when you promised you wouldn't do that anymore." You huffed, sending a pointed glare at the sentient computer that sat behind a locked cage, before going back to checking the nearby drawers for data.

"Oh right.." Painter muttered awkwardly. "I was actually aiming for the Wall Dweller behind you, but the turrets like to pick and choose their targets sometimes...heheh."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well..do ya feel better?"

"Hm..I guess it beats being eaten alive by one of those things. So...sure." You glanced back at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Thanks for trying."

"You're welcome."

Of course, you still had your..issues with the computer, considering that ever since he gained access to the Internal Defense System, your runs to the crystal have become more treacherous than ever before.

It was bad enough that you had to worry about wandering towards the wrong door, with him using HQ's voice to misguide you.

But now at any given moment, you could walking into a room with turrets sweeping the area, red lasers waiting to catch you in their line of sight before spraying you with bullets--while he taunted you over the speakers and whined whenever you managed to find the lever to shut them down.

You hated him at first, but after coming across his containment room, where his main body was hosted on an old computer, he swore that none of it was personal. He blamed Sebastian for hooking him up to the Navi-Path system and asking him to delay your mission for as long as possible, convinced that he could find another way out of this place.

Of course, you were still upset, and believed his actions were very much personal, especially when you've come so close to escaping with the crystal....only for music, of all things, to cause your gear to detonate.

Maybe he was a reluctant accomplice of his, but why should you care?

Why waste time talking to someone who stopped at nothing to kill you? He wasn't a mindless animal like Pandemonium or the Wall Dwellers, but had total awareness that you could come back after death.

And he knew how to take advantage of that.

You used to roll your eyes at the news channels declaring that AI would be the death of humanity.

Now? This AI sure as hell was going to be the death of you.

But sometime ago, you acquired his document and had Sebastian show it to you, and you learned some rather...tragic things about him.

He was built and programmed with love, by his human creator who taught him how to paint and appreciate the beauty of the natural world. All he wanted to do was create things, and now he was being used as a tool for destruction.

It was all because of Urbanshade.

They killed the only person he ever cared about, tore him apart and put him back together to see how he "worked", and when they couldn't figure it out, they forced him into crypto mining, only giving him the promise of letting him paint every once in a while.

He might be a machine, but the pain he felt was real--so real that he'd rather die than continue existing.

Of course, it doesn't justify him killing you over and over, and making your runs through the blacksite a living hell, but you could understand why he's so bitter towards humans now.

If you were him, you'd definitely have a lot of resentment and built-up anger.

After reading that document, you had a little more sympathy for Painter, and eventually you two managed to work out a deal: if you found his room, you'd stop by to draw a small landscape for him, and he was free to replicate it on his program. In exchange, he promised to keep all turrets in further rooms disabled and not lock you in a "gauntlet" with Eyefestation anymore.

He still works together with Z-96, but at this point you've learned how to avoid the flesh creature at all costs. So that was the least of your worries.

"Anyways, what have you drawn for me today, hm?" He spoke up, growing a little impatient.

You took a few moments to open the notepad you had, grateful that the security cameras in this room were under his control, so HQ won't detonate your gear for talking to him.

You've overheard the higher ups mention something about Painter becoming a pain in the ass for expendables and operatives, losing a lot of them to the IDS and Z-96 attacks, and he was to be marked for destruction before he could take 100% control of the blacksite.

Whether they were going to declare that as an order in the near future or not remains to be seen, but...you didn't want to do that.

Did Sebastian know?

Does he know-?

"Welllll?"

"Oh. Right. I have this here." You showed him the sketch of a mountain range, trying to get as close as the chain-linked wall would allow you to. "This is the Himalayas, where Earth's highest mountains are located."

"Oooooh, yes I recognize it."

"You do?"

"Of course. Over a hundred bodies are still up there, most unrecoverable due to the conditions." Painter sneered. "It should have been left untouched. Why do you humans always wanna ruin nature with you stupid hikes and big egos?"

"...well if you don't want this one-"

"Never said I didn't. Show it to me again. And hold it steady."

You blinked in surprise, before turning the notepad back over so he could see the landscape, and you saw the MS Paint program on his screen going right to work.

While you could only draw it from memory and with the pencils you found in a random drawer, he managed to bring it to life--using vivid colors and beautiful shading to really capture the scenery. Almost as though a professional artist went to those mountains and studied them for hours.

With Painter's AI, it didn't take hours, but mere minutes for him to create a masterpiece.

And it was beautiful.

As soon as he finished, you put the notepad down and grinned. "It's amazing, Painter. It's like..I could walk into it and be there."

"Thanks. I also wish I could walk into it and just...escape all of this." He saved the artwork to his files, before his usual scribbled face appeared once again, but this time it looked rather...sad. "I'll..make sure the turrets don't turn you into swiss cheese."

"I appreciate it, buddy." Smiling, you grabbed the keycard that you needed to exit the room, but right as you walked over to it...he spoke again.

"Do you have to leave right now?"

"...pardon?" Turning back around, you could see him staring at you, looking utterly despondent. "You..want me to stay?"

"You're..the first positive human interaction I've had in a long time. I feel bad for all the deaths and inconveniences I've caused you. Seriously, I do. But...if you reach the crystal, you won't ever see me again.." He muttered.

"Painter." You walked over to him, frowning. "That's the point. I'm only here to get that crystal. We agreed that you'd turn off the turrets so that-"

"I didn't do it to make your life easier." He snapped, growing hostile. "I did it because I don't wanna be the one who causes your death. I'll leave that to somebody else...eventually they'll get you. And you'll come back-"

"No."

He went dead silent for a moment. "..no?"

"This time, I'm getting that crystal. I can't stay here with you forever, Painter. I'm sorry about everything you've been through, but in the end..you're still a threat in Urbanshade's eyes. They could kill me just for talking to you. I need to leave now before-"

As if right on cue, the lights in the room began to flicker, and somewhere in the far distance...you could hear the familiar shrieking and howling of Pandemonium hunting for its next prey.

"You better go to that door over on the right." Painter advised, his voice uncharacteristically monotone.

You failed to pay attention to that and rushed to the door, quickly inserting the keycard-

Only to come face to face with Z-96, whose long claws reached out to slash you across the face. You fell backwards as the door slammed shut, the creature barely managing to drag its arm back inside, with a message in red appearing on the screen beside it.

I need you. Why do you always leave me?

'Bastard. He tricked me-'

Then you heard one final loud scream, and turned around..

Seeing nothing but a gaping maw with crooked rotting teeth and dozens of eyes closing in on you.

You should have known better. You should have just focused on the mission and ignored him from the start.

Now he'll never let you leave, and he'll find other ways to make sure of that.

[starryeyedjanai]

ill-tempered

@steddiemicrofic bonus prompt for @wynnyfryd's birthday! prompt: bottom | 345 words | rated: g | read on ao3

“We need to get to the bottom of this,” Eddie says.

“It’s not that big of a deal, honey. It’s harmless,” Steve says, going back to his crossword puzzle.

“Harmless? Harmless? Steve, whoever did this vandalized our home,” Eddie says, reaching out and plucking the pen from Steve's hand to get his full attention.

“Give me my pen back please,” he says, holding his hand out.

“Will you help me make the person who wrote that word on our garage clean it up?” Eddie asks.

“If you help me figure out a five letter word for ill-tempered, sure,” Steve says.

Eddie hums. “D-y-l-a-n, the little fucker who did this,” he says, placing the pen back in Steve’s hand before coming around the kitchen island to look down at the crossword puzzle.

“How do you know it was him and not the Jenkins’ kid?” Steve asks.

“Because he’s called me that before,” Eddie says, his hand coming up to play with the hair at the nape of Steve's neck. “The answer to ill-tempered is ‘testy’.”

“Really? I thought it was going to be ‘Eddie’,” Steve says, filling in the missing letters.

“Ha ha, laugh it up,” Eddie says, wrapping his arm around Steve's chest, his cheek resting on top of Steve's head as he finishes the puzzle.

When Steve is done, he tilts his head up and presses his lips to Eddie's jaw. “You want me to call Dylan’s mom?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, voice sullen.

Steve leans back into Eddie's embrace as he calls Dylan’s mom.

They head outside after she finds the red spray paint can in Dylan’s room and promises he’ll come right over to clean it up.

They watch as Dylan walks up with his head hung low.

“My mom said I have to say sorry,” he says when they hand him a towel.

“We’ll accept your apology when you clean this up,” Steve says in his sternest dad voice.

He puts his arm around Eddie's shoulder as they watch Dylan start to scrub the word ‘NERD’ from their garage door.

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 60

part 1 | part 59 | ao3

cw: reference to canonical minor character death

Max slams the phone down, knocking her forehead against the wall. Sixteen calls in a row and still no answer. “I give up,” she sighs. “You should just go.” “Seriously?” Steve protests. “And just leave you here? Alone? After—?” After all that? He throws his hands out like an umpire calling a safe. “No. No way.” “Look, my mom will be home soon, you can’t—” “—I’m not letting you get hurt—!” “—What are you gonna do? Fight my nightmares for me?”

“Maybe I will,” Steve mutters under his breath, pissed off and replaying the conversation on repeat while he gets ready. Feels like a psycho for doing it; feels certifiably unhinged just going about his evening after everything that happened, putting on a clean shirt and choking himself in a cloud of Farrah Fawcett spray so he can go pick up the sweet-but-stupid girl named Brenda he promised to take to the game tonight; so he can go cheer in the bleachers like he didn’t almost die.

(Or like, very vividly hallucinate his own death, which... Yeah. Doesn’t feel any less horrific.)

But whatever. Max is right. Without El, there’s really nothing to do but wait. Hop’s dead, Bob’s dead, Joyce is thirty hours away. Owens is off the table, too. What’s Steve gonna do? Call the government and tell them to come nuke the boogeyman? He doesn’t have any proof. 

He also doesn’t want to freak Dustin or any of the other kids out without knowing for sure what’s going on and what, if anything, can be done about it, so...

Fuck.

Fuck!

He gets dressed; he goes out. Picks up Brenda and does his best to be nice to her even though she gets on his nerves the moment she gets into his car, and he buys them sodas at the gas station and doesn't say a word when she spills Sprite down the side of his passenger seat.

The school is packed when they show up — the crowd in high spirits, the marching band leading chants. Nancy's reporting from the sidelines, Lucas is laughing with his teammates on the bench, and Steve leads Brenda toward the bleachers and does his best not to think. Not about the graveyard, not Max, not the looming threat of cosmic terrors. Not about the fact that Eddie is somewhere in this building, probably looking all hot and menacing while he leads tonight's campaign. Probably perched on a prop throne drinking Mountain Dew from a painted chalice like a fucking dork; probably making it look sexy, anyway. Tight jeans, legs spread, an air of casual command…

Steve could go find him. He could make everyone else leave; he could get on his knees and crawl between Eddie's legs—

"Does it bother you that we might win the championship, like, right after you graduated?"

Reality comes back like a slap in the face. "Yeah, that's an excellent question, Brenda, thank you so much for bringing that up."

They get settled into their seats, and Steve wishes he were more excited when the ref throws the jump ball, but he mostly just wants to go home. ("You always want to go home," the Robin in his head reminds him, and the Robin in real life throws him a weird look when she catches him snorting to himself about it.) He's just tired. Worn down in his bones, hollowed where he thinks his marrow should be, and he's clinging to normalcy with a sort of sweaty desperation that he’s pretty sure Brenda can smell on him because the date just sucks; it’s so bland, so mutually boring and bored. He spends most of the night mouthing stupid shit at Robin or keeping a sharp eye on the court — anything to ignore his proximity to Eddie; anything to drown out his messed-up head and heart. 

When the game finally ends Brenda gets a ride to a party with some friends. Steve goes back to Dustin’s place and paces a hole into the carpet. Stays up until 3 A.M., humming a Fleetwood Mac song.

In the morning, he tells himself as he drifts into fitful sleep. 

In the morning it’ll be fine. 

In the morning Max will come by the store like she promised, and they’ll keep trying until they get ahold of El, or Owens, or someone, and that someone will know what to do and how to help.

—

In the morning the TV tells him there’s a dead girl in his house.

—

part 61

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[usedtobecooler]

follow me down | steve harrington x reader

a/n: one tiny conversation with @loveshotzz caused a fire to be lit under my ass yesterday, thus this debauchery was written. it's good to be out of the smut slump! 2.3k words.

tw: EXPLICIT CONTENT 18+ MINORS DNI, gloryhole, dubcon, blowjobs, reader has a vagina, alcohol and drug mentions, anonymous sex acts, dirty talk, pet names, rough oral sex, masturbation, no protection.

Maybe this was a terrible, awful, bad idea, but as you sit on your knees in the darkened bathroom stall, you can't shake the nervous thrum of excitement vibrating through your entire body at what's about to take place.

This wasn't what you came out with your friend to do tonight — the plan was to go to this new kink bar on Main, party together and maybe take somebody home, if you were interested enough.

The drinks went down way too easily, the bass of the sensual music flowing through you both as you danced together, grinding up against one another without a care in the world. People were staring, of course they were, two hot women in latex in the middle of a sex club? It was inevitable.

Happening upon the secret bathroom was no mistake, your girlfriend pulling you in through the door and laughing in delight as she showed you, multiple private rooms behind blood red doors, slick grey door knockers adorned on them.

"It's all legit, I promise. No creeps, the guys on the door know better than to let them in here, especially Eddie, he would never," she'd assured, "let loose, babe. Put that talented mouth of yours to good use. I'll be in the next one over."

You eye up the stall, draped in red lighting, creating an aura. Taking in your surroundings for the next who-knew how long, with wide, curious eyes.

The hole in the wall itself was quite wide, clearly meant to be there as the plaster is perfectly cut in a circle, cute multicolored sparkles frame it alongside sharpied numbers and lewd messages.

There's a little box at your side, full of various single-use items you may need or want — disinfectant wipes, gum, breath spray, condoms, lube. You giggle, pleasantly shocked by the attention to detail that the club put into it all.

It's clear that this is what these stalls are meant for, to live out the deepest of fantasies in some sort of safety.

It's almost comforting, makes you want to go ahead with it even more, as you sit patiently waiting for somebody to enter the stall on the other side. Busying yourself with using a disinfectant wipe, cleaning any part of the stall that you think you'll come into contact with.

You're so preoccupied that you don't even notice somebody else has entered the room, until you hear the stall door next to your own click shut. Jeans so tight they almost look painted on ghost past the hole in the wall, nervous hands rubbing at the material.

"What the fuck is the etiquette in here?" The guy laughs, to himself mostly, no other greeting, and it's almost endearing. The nervous lilt in his voice obvious.

"I was expecting you to come in here and just shove your dick through the hole, to be fair," you giggle, picking up your drink and taking a sip, "nice of you to talk first, though. Hi, I guess?"

"Hi," he laughs back, breathlessly. You watch as he shuffles around on the other side, nothing more than a thigh and hand in your eyeline, the side of a zipper. Tighter fitting in that area than usual.

"So, do you wanna do this?" You ask, just for confirmation, veins thrumming with nerves and something akin to excitement, "I think I know the answer already, your jeans are, uh, very fucking tight."

"Shit, yeah. You— you're sure you're okay with this, right?" The man's voice is high pitched, whiny and a bit desperate, the clink of his belt against the stall wall enough to shock you, "I just— I don't do this, ever. But my friend he, he gave me these pills 'n I'm just so fucking horny, and you're, well. You're here and offering, God, I wanna."

You clench your thighs together, teetering between both knees as you get comfortable, "I'm okay with it, promise. I wanna, too." You confirm, voice lilted and dripping in desire, "Can you at least tell me your name, though? Wanna know who I'm moaning for."

"Oh, shit," he grunts, shuffling a little so you can see the tips of the auburn loafers he's wearing under the frame of the stall, "I'm Steve. Fuck, dunno if I should've used my real name but, who cares, right?"

Steve.

"Okay then, Steve," you gasp breathily, squeezing your thighs together once again, relishing in the relief it gives the dull ache on your clit, "wanna drop your pants and show me what you're working with?"

You sound far too confident, so confident that you shock yourself. Your hands shake, brain foggy still from one too many tequila shots and bubblegum flavored cocktails. But, Steve's right there and unzipping his pants in your eyeline, your bleary eyes zoning in on tan, slender fingers that you suddenly wish were inside of you.

"Can you— are you okay with me telling you what to do?" Steve asks cautiously, pulling open his jeans and getting ready to drop them. You bite at your glossy lip, the way the denim hangs almost frames the thick bulge in his tight black underwear. You store the picture in your memory for later.

"I like being told what to do," you admit, soft and sweet, "sometimes my brain gets all fuzzy when I'm into it, and I need to be reminded how to act, y'know?"

Steve lets out a strangled noise, a soft chuckle echoing in the room immediately after, "I'll remind you, honey. Don't worry your pretty little head about that."

Your confirmation, the air of arousal in the small space, suddenly has Steve flipping like a switch. You watch with wide eyes as he tugs down his offending clothing covering his thighs, pushing the layers down to his knees, out of his way. His cock springs out, weighed down by its own sheer size, thick and cut.

"Christ," you mutter, your mouth watering, and you desperately grab for the drink you carelessly abandoned at your side, swigging the last of it for a bit of courage. The burning of dark alcohol settling deep and warm in your gut.

You stare unashamedly as he grips the base of his dick, strong fingers wrapping around it, somehow looking dwarfed now. Your jaw already aches and he hasn't so much as pushed the tip past your lips.

"Open wide, honey," Steve's voice drips in sex as he coos his pet name for you, domineering and strong, a very different version of the man who came into the room just minutes earlier, though you can't say it's not a pleasant change.

Your mouth hangs open, tongue lolling out over your bottom lip, putting on a show for the man who can't even see you. You shuffle a little closer, going cross eyed as the wet tip of Steve's cock slides through the hole. You tentatively flick your tongue against the weeping slit, getting a taste of him in your mouth, before wrapping your lips around the head, gently suckling on the salty skin.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ," Steve groans, sighing blissfully as you start up a steady rhythm, allowing saliva to pool on your tongue and help glide your way along his thick shaft, jaw unhinging as if on autopilot for him. The clean, musky taste and scent of him driving you fucking insane, your hands coming up to touch the wall at either side of your head as you bury in further, choking yourself on him.

You know you're sickeningly wet for it, for Steve. Your core runs hot and aches as you lick and suck every inch of his cock you can get to, whining high in the back of your throat as his salty pre slides down your throat, coating your tastebuds in him. It's almost embarrassing how much you enjoy it, losing yourself in making him feel good.

"Y'r so good at this, baby. Fuck me," Steve's forehead thumps against the stall, jolting you slightly, has your rhythm faltering momentarily, teeth grazing ever so slightly down his shaft. He groans, loud and unashamed, punches his hips forwards until you're moaning around your mouthful, vibrations shocking the prettiest sounds from his lips.

"You're rough, huh? Hands on your knees, like a good girl," Steve grunts, rocking his hips into the stall and pushing deeper into your mouth until he's hitting your gag reflex — your throat tightens automatically at the intrusion and he moans, animalistic and needy.

Your hands move on instinct, coming to rest on your thighs, just below the hem of your dress. Your fuzzy head does the work for you, relaxing your jaw and throat for the impending assault. Your panties drip with arousal, eyes rolling into the back of your head, the idea of being used like this doing unspeakable things to your body.

Strong, tan hands wrap around the top of the stall, gold rings glinting in the low mood lighting in the room. You whine, loud and unabashed when you see them grip the plaster. Mind racing at the thought of those hands all over your body.

"Bet you look so fucking good with my cock down your throat," Steve groans, tiny little grunts escaping him as he punches his hips forward in sharp thrusts, "you feel so fucking good, holy shit. Good fucking girl, taking all of me like this."

You know you look obscene — saliva running down your chin, lips raw and puffy, eyeliner and mascara smeared down your cheeks from the tears that spring from your eyes. Your throat feels wrecked, stuffed full on Steve, and you finally show yourself mercy, hand running under your dress to run over the seam of your cunt.

The slick noises of fluid soaked skin crescendo in the room, filthy and disgusting in the most delicious way, erotic and adding to the senses that get you closer and closer to the edge. Your fingers slip deftly over your slick cunt, working at your clit until you're choking on a sob, body alight with how good you feel.

"You crying, baby?" Steve coos, rocking into your mouth again, tears pooling below your top lip, adding to the salty mixture in your mouth, "You're lucky the walls between us, if I saw you crying I'd only go rougher, I'd break you."

You wail, fingers slipping from your pussy as his words rattle in your ears. Your tongue flicks over every inch of him you can get between the harsh thrusts, swallowing him down and mapping out every bit.

"Can hear you fucking yourself in there," Steve comments, and you can't find it in you to even feel embarrassed, not when he's rammed so far down your throat that you're struggling to breathe and gagging, "so fucking hot, wanna watch. Wanna pull on your hair and fuck that tight little throat harder."

Your knees ache, your jaw feels like it's splitting, whole body alight with the pleasure-pain that courses through you. It's like nothing you've ever felt before.

Steve chuckles, an animalistic noise tearing from him when you suck a little harder, chasing his cock as he tries to pull out. Your core burns hotter with every passing swipe of your fingers on yourself, chasing your high so desperately that you can't find it in you to be mortified.

"You close, honey? You've gone a little stupid on my cock," he comments, tutting at you, "if this is how dumb you get on blowing me, I can't wait to see how dumb you get when I'm buried deep in your pussy."

You whimper, tears spilling down your cheeks as you shudder through your orgasm, your cries muffled with Steve's cock. Your fingers work on your clit until your hips shake, slick drips of your creamy release sliding down your inner thighs.

"Perfect little slut," Steve grunts, hips beginning to stutter in their rhythm, a constant stream of steady praises spewing from his lips, "can't believe you came sucking my cock, I'm a fucking stranger. I'm gonna cum, y'r making me cum, holy fuck."

One, two uneven thrusts later, and Steve's hips shove forward for a final time, cock kicking up on your tongue as he releases inside of your slackened mouth. Your brain and gag reflex barely cooperate, some of his load sputtering out from between your lips as you struggle to swallow it all.

Steve's loud when he comes, moaning so unashamedly that it echoes in the room, and you're so sure that your friend in the next one over will hear him, maybe even the one over from that, too. It's mortifying how attractive you find it.

There's an awkward silence once all is said and done, his spent cock slipping from your lips once you're sure he's finished. The sounds of heaving breaths and clothes shuffling are almost deafening in your ears, as you sober up from what could be considered a mind melting experience.

Steve zips his jeans up on the other side, awkwardly chuckling, "Uh, thank you for the best blowjob I've ever had in my entire life, stranger."

You bark out a hoarse laugh in return, shocked by the casualness of it, though it's so endearing — and inflating for the ego, "Thanks, Steve. It was a pleasure getting to suck your dick."

Steve laughs for real that time, breathless and almost incredulous, "I don't know if this is, uh, kink etiquette or whatever but, I'm in this ridiculous black satin shirt. Hairs high enough that you can see it through the crowd, or so my friend says. Come find me out there?"

You're shocked into silence for a moment, brain running on overdrive, trying to comprehend the invitation to actually go see him, after all of that. You feel ridiculous, how could you be prudish after sucking off a stranger?

"Or not?" Steve asks, with a deflated little huff.

"No!" You awkwardly shout, cringing internally, "Uh, I absolutely would love to, Steve. I'm in a black latex dress, I have a red pentagram necklace on, it's hard to miss."

"I'll see you out there then, honey."

[writer-by-the-sea]

Um, hi! I'm new and I really like your works!

I want to make a request for Haley and Penny (separate) if that's okay with you!

Scenario: how would they react when they find out that their s/o, the farmer, used to be a member of the Mafia? A hitman to be exact, but they've changed and left that life behind.

I don’t think I’ve ever done a full on headcanon before, but I figured why not! 

Instead of doing mini fics for only two characters, I am going to attempt to write these thoughts into a slightly coherent but readable mess. WARNING: These do not all end happily. Some are very heavy angst and they break up with you.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“There’s… something I need to tell you,” the farmer began, rubbing the back of their neck while they looked away from the person in front of them. Someone that they’ve come to love, to trust enough to finally open up to, and someone who might understand.”Before moving to Stardew… I was... Part of a very bad crowd,” they pause and take a deep breath. “Not just a little group of delinquents that spray paint the side of buildings.

“Something.. Far worse. I know that you might view me differently because of this but– I want you to know who I truly am. I never want to lie to you, and while I wanted to keep this secret buried deep inside; I care about you too much to allow you to continue dating me without knowing… 

“I was a hired killer, an assassin, a hitman.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------

Alex

“Hey, man, you don’t have to lie to me to look cool,” Alex laughed and gave you a thumbs up. “You’re already really cool in my book.” 

You grimace before saying, “Alex, I’m not lying.” 

“Oh,” he breathes out. A minute passes, the gears turning in his head as he thinks it over. “Ohhh.” 

“Yeah, oh,” you reply. “I understand if you need some space–” 

Alex leaned back into his bed, letting himself land softly on his back. “Gramps has killed a few guys, so I’m not really worried about it.” 

You look down at him and raise a single brow, “Wasn’t that in war though?” 

“It was, but it’s the same thing, isn’t it?” 

“Not.. really.” 

Alex shrugs and sighs, “if you asked him for stories, he would spend the rest of the day telling you every single bloody detail. I’ve heard them all a thousand times.” He sat up, dropping her face to a sneer and pulled his lips back. “During that war,” he began, perfectly mimicking his grandfather. “I killed fitty men! I collected their earlobes and wore them around my neck like a trophy!” 

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into Alex. “Okay, that’s a little fucked up actually.” 

“You haven’t even heard the worst of it,” he answered with a grin. “He likes to tell this story about the time they had to go save some guy–”

“Wait,” you cut him off, gently placing your fingertips against his lips to stop him. “I just.. I want you to know that I love you, and that all of that shit is in the past… but I understand if you want nothing to do with me after this.” 

Alex pushed your hands away with his lips, laughing again as he pulled back. “It’s alright, I get it. Just don’t keep anything else from me, okay?” 

You nodded and pulled him into your arms, giving him a good squeeze. “I promise.” 

Alex slid out of your arms and ran to his bedroom door, swinging it open before playfully glaring at you. “As punishment for not telling me in the first place!” He took a really deep breath filling his lungs before shouting “Grandpa! The farmer wants to hear all your war stories!” 

Alex wasn’t scared of you. Afterall, nothing you’ve done could ever compare to the stories he grew up with. He knew his grandpa regretted the choices he made, but sometimes, you have to do cruel things to survive. 

Elliott

Elliott quickly grabbed his wine, downing the glass in one huge gulp before placing it back onto the table. “What you’re telling me,” he whispered, his gaze focused on the empty wine glass. “You’re being truthful? This isn’t a jest?” 

“No,” you answered, scooting your chair closer to his. “Just.. I know you’re in shock right now, but please just give me a chance to explain–”

“This is wonderful news!” Elliott jumped up from his chair, darting to a notebook that lies open with scribbles across the pages. He sprinted back, throwing himself back into the chair as harshly it nearly toppled over with him in it. “Tell me, what does another man’s eyes look like as you choke the life out of him?” 

“W-what?” you stammered, glancing down at the notebook that was now on the table where Elliott held his quill above it, ready to write. “Are you trying to get a confession from me?” 

“Heavens no!” He replied with a laugh, putting his quill down and turning to grab your hands. “My next novel is a murder mystery! I would love to have your feedback.” 

“You’re kidding,” you replied, your mouth hanging open. 

“Not at all, my love!” Elliott smiled so brightly, you would have thought you just told him his book had a million sales; not that you used to kill people for a living. “It truly is destiny that we were to meet!” 

“Do… Are you okay with my past?” 

“Ah,” Elliott nodded, understanding now why you seemed so hesitant with your words. “We all have our demons, don’t we, darling? If I were ever to judge every person I knew by the skeletons in their closet.. Well, life wouldn’t be very fun, now would it?” 

“I’m…” you tried to focus, confusion swirling in your head making everything foggy and hard to follow. “What?” 

Elliott was already back to his notebook, licking the pad of his thumb while he flipped through the pages. “This part here,” he held the book out to you, the page filled with brainstorms and more messy scribbles. “Could you fact check it for me? I honestly don’t know what a man sounds like when he gets stabbed like this. Also, the shoulder would be a good spot for them to survive from a stab, right?” 

You laughed, shaking your head at this ridiculous man. “Well, actually, there’s a main artery that going along the shoulder–” 

Part of you wasn’t surprised that Elliott was excited to discuss bloody, brutal, cold murder with you. Although, the writer did make a point the next day to scold you for keeping the secret from him. He could have finished his novel even sooner, and… he could have told you how much he loves you and would never give you up. 

In fact, he would help you get away with murder. 

Harvey

“No,” Harvey stood abruptly, his knee hitting his kitchen table and nearly knocking his coffee over, the hot liquid jumping out of the mug and onto the table. “Shoot!” he cried as the coffee landed on some of his folders that were spread out. 

You joined him in grabbing napkins, trying to clean the coffee before it caused too much damage. 

“I can’t believe this,” he whispered as he tossed the dirty napkins aside, uncaring of where they would land. “Not you, not my farmer, no…” 

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back your emotions. “Harvey–” 

Then he broke before you, a sob ripping through his throat right before he began sobbing. His glasses getting wet and foggy as he let each tear slide down his cheeks. “Not you…” 

“Please, I just–” 

Harvey straightened up, taking a deep breath and forced himself to meet your eyes. “I have dedicated my whole life to helping those who need it. I took an oath to assist any single soul that cries for help. If a patient dies on my table, I have to live with that for the rest of my life. The rest of my life knowing that I couldn’t do enough for them!” 

Your eyes widen, dread filling you as you realize this is the end. “Harvey, please–” 

“Get out,” he growled, his voice deep, dangerous, and oozing with hatred. 

“Let me explain–” 

“For you to come to me, and tell me that you took human lives for your own gain? I don’t need to hear another word,” Harvey took a step towards you, his body tensing, preparing to fight you if he must. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

Everything in you wanted to stay, to fight for what you had… 

You left, crying on your way back to the farm, your heart shattered beyond repair. 

Sam

“For real?” Sam's face scrunched in disbelief. “No, you’ve gotta be joking. Ain’t no way the hot farmer killed some dudes.” 

While your hands may have been tough from constantly working in the dirt, Sam could never imagine in a million years that you would kill a fly on the wall, let alone another human being!

“Is it April Fool’s? It is, isn't it?” he joked and nudged you. “Well, you got me–” 

“Sam,” you breathed out in reply, the truth hanging between you. 

“Holy shit,” Sam stood slowly, taking a step back from you. “You’re serious? You’ve actually killed people?” 

“Yes.” 

“Dude…” he ran a hand through his wild hair, not caring how the gel stuck to his fingers. 

He needed more information, but right now, he needed to make one thing clear. 

“Look,” he started and made his way back to you, dropping himself on his mattress next to you. “Like, I’m not gonna dump you over this; but keeping that from me was seriously not cool.” 

“I know,” you mumbled in reply and offered a weak smile. “I just–” 

Sam raised a hand, cutting you off. “No, we’re gonna talk about this later, after we’ve both had some pizza, and maybe a couple… or an entire case of beer. You’re gonna break all this shit down for me, and then we’re gonna talk about how you’re doing like.. Mentally. After doing all that shit.” 

“Mentally?” you asked with a laugh. “What--” 

“Nope,” Sam stood and grabbed your hand. “Pizza first, you asshole. I can’t believe you killed people, so fucking weird.” 

Sam was in it for the long run, and while he viewed you differently (as like, a cold blooded killer what the fuck,) he wasn’t going to give up on you just because of a dark past. 

Sebastian

“I mean, who hasn’t?” 

Your head whips up to stare back at Sebastian, not sure you just hear those words correctly. “Wait–” 

“You think I haven’t killed a man? Why do you think I hide out in the basement coding shit all day instead of living in the city and making a fortune? Be realistic.” 

“Sebastian, I–” 

“No, it’s cool. I really don’t care,” he said with a shrug and went back to typing on his computer. 

“Well, no, wait; Sebastian that’s a lot to drop on someone–” 

“Hey, I wasn’t a fucking hitman though now was I?” 

“I don’t know, were you?!” 

He shrugs again, reaching for an open pack of cigarettes and lights one up. He takes a deep drag and then blows it out slowly. “I’m gonna go get some leftover pumpkin soup, I made it last night, you want some?” 

You just stare back at him, your jaw hanging open. Now you were the one that needed more information! 

But, you supposed that could wait. Pumpkin soup was on the line, afterall. 

Shane

He takes a sip of his soda, savoring the flavor and bubbles before putting his can back down on the kitchen table. 

“So,” he began, forcing himself to sit up straight and meet your eyes. 

“Are you here to kill me then?” 

“What?” 

“Are you.. here, to kill me?” Shane asked again, slowly. 

“No!” you shouted and waved your hands in front of you like a white flag. “You’ve got the wrong idea!” 

“I’m not telling you how I made the chickens blue, you can beat me to the brink of death and I’ll never spill–” 

“Shane, babe, no– well actually how do you–” you stopped speaking as Shane glared at you and narrowed his eyes. “Nevermind the chickens, I’m not here to kill you.” 

“To kill Marnie then?” He asks. “To end the competition for milk and eggs? You make me sick,” he spit. 

“No, what? I turn all my milk into cheese to make you Pepper Poppers or Pizza–” 

“Then the eggs!” He declares and stands up, pointing a finger down where you sat. 

“Please, just listen to me,” you stood with him, on the verge of tears knowing that this could be the end–

Shane’s frown twitched, so quick you could almost miss it. 

You opened your mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again. 

“Oh, I see. You came here to kill Willy, with your gaping fish mouth.” 

Any doubt or worries you had dropped instantly. “You’re totally fucking with me, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, I found your list of names a few months ago. You really shouldn’t leave that stuff lying around you know?” 

“Yoba,” you sighed in relief and dropped back into your chair, the wood lightly squeezing on the tiled floor. “Why didn’t you say anything?” You kept your head down, ashamed to have ever tried to hide this from him. 

Shane chuckled and sat back down, “I figured you’d tell me when the time was right.” 

You risked a glance at Shane, “do you hate me for it.” 

“Hate you? Of all people to hate someone for the mistakes they made in their past, you think I’m going to be one of them? I’m a little offended, farmer.” 

“I’m sorry,” you cracked a smile as he gazed at you, his eyes filled with all of the love and support in the world. 

He was right, Shane would never judge you for your past, just as you never judge him for his. The only thing that matters is the kind of person you are moving forward, and that suits him just fine. 

Abigail

The first thing she asks, with a wicked grin and excited eyes, “So, how many people did you kill?” 

While she knows the value of a human life, she could never allow her thoughts to wander towards ‘what if I killed someone?’ She feared she may pursue it herself. 

“What was your weapon of choice?” she would ask next, hardly containing the buzz flowing through her body from the quick high; knowing she was talking to (dating!) a certified badass killer. 

She does view you differently, however. 

Not as an evil person, as you might have expected; but someone strong enough to protect her, someone who told her this knowing that she might turn away from them, someone who loves her enough to put her first. 

The subject is sensitive, and she knows not to tease you too much or ask for too many details; but she does ask for the occasional story – if you’re willing to give it. 

Emily

She gasps, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as she stares back at you in horror. “W-what do you m-mean,” she stumbles over her words, her hands now shaking as she lowers them away from her face, trying to steady them as they rest in her lap. “You.. you actually, ki–” she can’t finish the sentence. 

“I did what I had to, to get by. Please understand that I’m not a bad person-” 

“You killed people,” she dropped her head and watched as tears fell into her lap. “You actually killed people…” 

“Emily–” 

“How can I trust you after this?!” She jumped up, still shaking while she paced around her room. “How can I know that you’re not withholding more?!” 

You stood and put your hands on her shoulders, holding her in place, but she refused to meet your eyes. “I swear to you, I will never hide something from you again… if you just give me a chance to prove myself.” 

Emily dropped her head onto your shoulder, softly sobbing and letting her tears drip onto your shirt. “You’re going to tell me everything.” 

“Okay,” you whispered back, your arms moving down to wrap around her. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” 

There would be a lot of trust issues moving forward, and Emily would keep you on a tight leash for a while; but she knew that not everyone was perfect, and while she might not like your past, she loves who you are now. And she’s not willing to give up yet. 

Haley

She looked up from her phone, her brow dropping down and her eyes narrowing, “Ew.” 

You tried not to snort a laugh at her reply, but failed miserably. “That’s all you have to say? Ew?” 

She rolled her eyes at you, “what else am I supposed to say? Oh no, please don’t kill me, super scary hitman?” 

“Uh,” you looked around you as if you could find the answer hovering in the air. “I’m.. not.. sure, honestly.” 

Another eyeroll. “You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it’s worth. I’m still going to love you no matter what dumb shit you’ve done in your past. I mean, did you know that I dyed my hair black once? Also, ew. Total regret.” 

Bewildered, you plopped down beside her, shaking your head in disbelief. “You don’t care?” 

“Ugh. Of course I care,” she slapped you on the side and finally put her phone aside. “But you obviously regret it, like I did with the black hair, and while our past mistakes may have been huge; it doesn’t dictate who we are today. So, don’t worry about it.” 

“You realize you’re comparing black hair to the murder of a.. Lot of people?” 

“Babe,” she took a deep breath, staring deep into your eyes, begging you to understand… 

“I used a box dye. Tell me a worse crime than that.” 

You laughed together, her crime never coming close to your misdeeds, and she knew it. But after getting to know you, she knew she could continue to trust you just as she always has. 

Leah

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Leah threw her paintbrush at you, hitting you in the chest and leaving a splotch of yellow paint. “Not again!” 

“Again?!” you shouted back in shock. “What do you mean again!?”

“Tell me,” she hissed. “How many, what organization, and why the hell did you make me fall in love with you?!” 

“Leah,” 

“Do. Not. Leah. Me.” Each word spit in your direction. “Answer me.” 

You sighed, “it was a lot of people.. The organization was international and I never really knew who was in charge..” Closing your eyes, just to get away from her angry glare for a moment, you continued, “I never meant to mislead you. I wanted to tell you the truth to see if I even still stood a chance with you.” 

Leah relaxed, shaking her head before finding a place to sit down. “Thanks, for telling me, I guess.” 

Moving to her side, you kneeled next to her, taking her paint stained hands into your own. “Please, just give me a chance to make this up to you. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

“Yeah, well. You did,” she gently pulled her hands away, turning away from you. “Honestly, I don’t know if I can go through this again.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“You’re never fully out of that life, farmer. That past will come back to haunt you one day, and I don’t think I have the strength to endure it.” 

“No, Leah, it’s over, I swear–” 

“Just leave, okay? I have a lot to think about.” 

Dejected, you do as you're told, stopping to say one last thing before you go. “I hope you’ll give me another chance, Leah. I’ve never felt this way about someone before, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. 

She sniffles and wipes a tear away, “we’ll see.” 

Maru

She begins by tilting her head at you, her eyes scanning you up and down before turning back to her studies. “I know that, it’s pretty obvious.”

“Huh?!” you blurt out, shaking your head. “How–” 

Maru sighed and put her work aside, realizing that they needed to have a full chat about this now, despite her samples calling for her. 

“Once, you mentioned the amount of required poison to kill a person without raising suspicion to require an autopsy.” 

“Okay, but–”

“Another time, when my dad asked if you wanted to go camping one weekend and maybe hunting, you asked if a Heckler & Koch P30L would be an appropriate gun to bring.”

“I��ve never been hunting before!” you defended, weakly. 

“Sweetheart, it’s a handgun. You don’t go hunting with a handgun.” 

“Hang on–”

“Furthermore, you have two bullet wounds that I know of. One on your lower left calf and the other on your upper bicep. You also have obvious scars from being stabbed or sliced and it was most certainly not from a childhood cat.” 

You both stared at one another. You felt like an idiot for thinking you could ever hide anything from her. 

“Does it bother you?” 

“A little,” she admitted with a small shrug. “So long as you don’t go back into that kind of work though, I can get over it. Just don’t ever try to lie to me again, I will always know.” 

Penny

Her eyes widen and her heartbeat jumps so quickly she thinks she might faint.

She would have never expected this of you. 

Going into the mines was one thing, but killing people was a whole other level of insanity. 

It takes her a minute to process what you’ve just told her, her hands twisting in her lap, fearing she’s going to say the wrong thing. 

“Were they all bad people?” she finally asks, lifting her eyes up to meet yours. 

You take a moment to respond, a lie resting at the tip of your tongue, but you squash it and say, “No, they weren’t.” 

At this, Penny breaks. 

She drops her head into her hands and cries, pulling her knees up and to her chest while the heels of her feet rest on the edge of the couch. 

She was in love with you. So desperately, eagerly, pathetically in love with you. 

And now, she doesn’t know how to move forward. 

Her whole life, she has dealt with bad people. From the moment she was born she has fought with everything she’s ever had to be one of the good ones. Abiding by the rules, keeping to herself to avoid stepping on any toes, taking care of others when they don’t even appreciate the kindness she shows to them. 

“I don’t-” she gasped between her tears. “I don’t think I can do this.” 

The farmer nodded, taking her hands into their own and squeezing them gently. “I love you, Penny. More than anything.” 

“Why did you have to tell me?” she whispered. “Why..” 

“I couldn’t keep lying to you..” 

Penny stood, ripping her hands away to rope the back of them under her eyes. “Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to me ever again.”

Then she ran off, leaving you there as the guilt washed over you. 

[wyn-n-tonic]

That's a Real Fucking Legacy: Legacy

Pairing: Joel x f!reader/former Tommy x f!reader Word Count: 2.6k+ Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, childbirth, child loss, grief, alcohol, drugs. Author's Note: I'm sorry.

Writing Blog: @wyn-writing. Sign up for my taglist HERE.

Empty.

The shelves of his belongings, sparse as they may be; the maps that hung tacked to the wall; the knife taped beneath the table; the life of his laughter drained from the walls.

And the guitar.

Of course the guitar was gone.

“I'm sorry,” his note read. “I had to go. I had to know if it was possible for us to have a safer, happier life outside of here. I’ll be back for you, I love you.” 

Nothing else, just gone in the night leaving nothing else but a note and a broken heart.

It always ends bloody—day after day, year after year.

But this didn’t end at all, it just never came back.

It left two things in its wake—you and a brother.

A brother who couldn’t look you in the eye after reading the tear stained note that mentioned him nowhere in it.

It didn’t say he’d come back for Joel.

It didn’t say he wanted better for Joel and it fed into Joel’s belief that he was no longer good enough for good things or good intentions. 

Somewhere along the line, you picked up on that feeling for yourself. It was easier to tell yourself that Tommy had forgotten about you and the promise he made in his letter. It was easier to assume that he no longer loved you because the only alternative was that he was no longer living.

Not Joel, though.

That callus nature ticked off Tommy’s life like a box in his goddamn head. Compartmentalized it away as one less person that made him vulnerable—weak. It was the illusion of strength that drove you to him; to showing up at his apartment with some poorly constructed moonshine and an ache you hadn’t felt satisfied since the night before everything changed.

You told him how Tommy had fucked you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, knowing it was the last time, and that motherfucker didn’t even have the balls to say goodbye.

“I never meant fuck all to him, did I?” You had asked.

Shattered glass wasn’t the response you were looking for but it’s certainly the one you got, expletives crawling out of his mouth as he knelt down to pick up the shards. 

Only that and the silence that followed as he disposed of the crystalized remnants and paced the small room.

“My brother loved you,” he finally said. “You were the best goddamn thing my brother had going for him—he said you were the best thing he had ever done. His love for you is how I know he’s fucking dead, sweetheart, so you need to stop sitting here convincing yourself that what you had was fake—some fucked up way to protect yourself—and start grieving like the goddamn widow you are.”

That grief stood to meet his and both of you fell into bed shortly after.

It made sense, he’d promised you. You weren’t doing anything wrong.

You got the next best thing to Tommy Miller.

He got to protect the most important thing to Tommy Miller. 

It’s what he would’ve wanted.

But now he looks like he’s going to throw up.

The sex got more frequent, the small laughter and the stolen touches.

For a while, you’d kept separate dwellings—him sleeping alone, you sleeping with a ghost.

Then the apartment was ransacked one day while you were out, you came home to Firefly spray paint on the doors and half the floor boards torn up.

Joel barely let you out of his fucking sight after that.

He also fucked you blind most nights, giving over small glimpses of the man he used to be—the man he still wishes he was.

There’s half a glimpse of that now followed by fear followed by a set jaw and a mask he wears when it’s not just you beside him.

“Are you sure?” He asks, hands worrying into the edge of a book over and over again.

You shrug, “who can really be sure of anything these days? Especially this early on but… I don’t know.” Looking down at your nails, you start to pick at the bloodied skin already ravaged by your anxieties. “I’m fairly certain though,” you tell him. “Don’t feel obligated to anything.” 

“Shut up,” he snaps. He is harsh when he wants to be but he’s never been so with you. “Don’t sit there and tell me you’ve got my baby inside of you and then tell me not to feel obligated. You are the only person I feel that for anymore.” 

The chair kicks back and falls behind him when he stands, clattering down in a way that shakes you. You’re used to the loudness of his voice, the attack dog style way he turns on anybody who looks at you sideways.

"I'm sorry,” he says after a few beats from the other side of the room. He’s staring down the window but you’re not sure his eyes are anywhere, really. Not sure he’s here either.

You know where he goes on the nights he doesn’t exhaust himself enough between your legs after a long day. Hell, he goes there even then. Because no amount of sex or drugs or alcohol is going to scrub that memory out.

Tommy told you about that night; the subsequent nights and the years that followed where Joel turned into somebody completely different. Joel, who used to be goofy and happy, even if he was stressed. 

But he’s not that man anymore and, even if you catch the glimpses of him in fleeting moments, he never will be again.

“I'm sorry,” you tell him. Because it’s all you can say. You’d been as careful as you could. You’d drank the tea. You did the best you could.

He doesn’t turn until you stand, following the noise of your body with his good ear to bore his brown gaze into you. “Where are you going?” 

You shrug, “I think you need some time and uh”—you rub at your eye—“I heard a rumor a while ago about somebody who can help take care of it so—“

“So just like that”—he snaps his fingers for emphasis—“you’re gonna take it all away? Never happened, huh?”

“You don’t want this,” you tell him. You say it plainly like a fact because it is.

His features twist up, eyes squinting as he pulls back like you've slapped him. “It's not that I don’t want this,” he says, accent coming out thick. “It's that I don’t want this for you”—he starts counting on his fingers, taking steps toward the fallen chair and the door you stand at now—“I don’t want this life for you; I don’t want this life for that baby; I don’t want me for that baby, sweetheart. Don’t you understand? That should be my brother’s, you should be my brother’s—“

“Yeah, well he fucking left me, Joel!” The way you heighten your voice shoots pain right up into your head, the headache you’ve been nursing from nerves all day growing worse as your fists clench and unclench. “He fucking left you, he left us! This should be his baby, but it’s not, Joel. It doesn’t have to be yours either.” 

“Sweetheart,” his voice is so soft now. Another glimpse. He walks towards you slowly, hands out as if trying to pacify a wild animal. “Can we talk about this before you just go off and—“ 

But you’re already halfway out the door before he can finish the thought, letting it slam shut behind you on the man you never should’ve told.

——————

It’s always bloody—this life we’re forced to live now.

Starts in blood, ends in blood.

In the moment you hemorrhaged from childbirth, all you could think of was Tommy and how you hoped his end was the fast kind of blood and not the kind you were experiencing. 

It was the first time you saw Joel cry, stood back and shaking with clenched fists. In the end, it was how stern his voice got that brought you back from the blackened edges of your vision. 

That’s how he spoke to you, to the baby. Soft voices, yes. But stern, too. Like every statement was a warning shot not to leave him like the rest. 

Life in the QZ wasn’t exactly a good one but it was enough; safe enough. Joel took the risks he needed to, to get you and the baby what you needed. 

That was her name for the longest time, just Baby.

Baby, who fit in the palm of her father’s hand.

Baby, who made him laugh like he hadn’t in years.

Baby, who made his smile reach his eyes again.

Baby, who was told stories of how much like her big sister Sarah she already was with all her sass and all her charisma.

He was obsessed with her tiny hands, her little toes and the way she cooed up at him with big, dark eyes. 

He was obsessed with her little face, the curve of her lips and the way she latched on to feed.

“You're gonna hate me for saying this,” he started when he walked in the room one day, her tiny body nestled in the crook of his arm like a football. “But I think she kind of looks like Tommy.” 

You did hate him for that but he wasn’t wrong. It was some sick cosmic joke; the baby that should be his; the baby made out of grief for him.

Three weeks later, her papers were officially filed with FEDRA under the name Thomasin Miller; never imagining that, one year later, you’d be walking down the street to see her namesake stepping out of your old building like a bad dream.

Or the best dream.

If that’s where he went first, finding that the entire thing is cleared out, then he’d be going to Joel’s next. 

Unless he stuck with not ever wanting to see his brother’s goddamn face again.

You split left before he saw you, turned the corner and took the other way to Joel’s; to Thomi—home.

Fighting with your keys to get into the lock, the door pulled open and your muttering stopped as Joel stood easily at six feet with baby girl tucked up on his chest fast asleep. From the looks of it, he was too.

He barely came around to the pregnancy, trying hard to school his emotions through every milestone afraid that it was going to drop just like everything else. He carried that fear through the birth, told you that he was so afraid you were going, too. So afraid that you were leaving him with a baby to fend for so he could start this sick cycle of his life over again.

Except this time he wouldn’t even have Tommy and he knew the only outcome of that was him leaving the baby or her leaving him.

He said he wouldn’t have survived.

That’s the only way you know Joel Miller loved you—his version of it anyway.

Obligated.

“What's wrong?” He asks, worry covering every part of his face as his large hand covers yours. “What happened?”

“Tommy.” It’s all you can choke out.

He goes to hand you the baby, says she’s right here. Says she’s okay and asks again what happened. Asks if there was a baby on the trucks today.

“No,” you shake your head. “No, Joel, Tommy’s here.” 

He tells you you’re crazy, that it can’t be. Says the heat of the day and the smell of the infected dead must’ve gotten to you. That wasn’t even your job today; he stopped letting it be your job a long ass time ago. He didn’t want you seeing Thomi in every snuffed out life the way he saw Sarah.

“Listen to me, Joel!” Your yelling wakes the baby but only half a cry comes out before she realizes she’s in her daddy’s arms. “Tommy was coming out of our old building, he is here and I wasn’t there and you know where he’s gonna go next.” 

After two hours with no knock on the door, Joel starts to examine you; your eyes; your head; your neck. Any sign of trauma at all that can explain away the ghosts you saw in plain sight.

And then it comes. Just a couple of knocks at the door. Joel’s eyes rake down your face as all the color drains from it and crosses to the front door. “Who is it?”

“It's me,” a muffled voice on the other side comes through. “I-it’s Tommy.”

Joel opens the door enough to fit his broad body into it, one arm raised to lean against the deteriorating wood jamb. “Thought you were dead.”

“Why would you—“ 

“Maybe because you fucked off with a promise to come back and didn’t.”

“I—“ He stutters looking for the words. “I sent letters.”

From here, you can see Joel’s eyes squint and his face twist in near disgust. “We don’t exactly have a goddamn postal service, shitbird.” 

“Yeah, I fucking know that,” Tommy quips back and you can imagine just the face he’s making too. “I fucking radio’d, every fucking week, and I got nothing back. I just want to know she’s okay.”

You watch from the hallway, one arm hugged around your body for warmth. It’s not even cold.

“She’s—" He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how to fucking answer that. I hope she’s fine now but I’m worried that knowing you're around might slide that progress back.”

“Progress?”

“Yeah, Tommy, she fucking grieved for you for a long ass time. That was after she waited for you until I told her to accept that you weren’t coming back.”

“But I radio’d…” 

“We didn’t get a goddamn radio from you, Tommy!” 

Thomasin screams at the sound of her father’s raised voice, howling out every thing she’s got in her tiny lungs as you move to pick her up.

Tommy’s asking what the fuck that is and you can see Joel’s fists clenching, tightening the grip he has on the door. He looks back at you, back at his daughter and his face betrays the parts of his heart that are breaking as Tommy asks whose goddamn baby is crying in his apartment.

“Mine,” Joel responds. 

Then he shuts down, jaw setting and unsetting as Tommy asks question after question. 

Where’d you get a baby?

What’s going on?

Why can’t I find her?

You know where she is, tell me where she is.

Joel can’t answer any of them, can’t make eye contact with his brother anymore but he doesn’t move from the door. He wants to, you can tell. He wants to shut it, go back to this morning when you and he and the baby were all still sound asleep in the early light of day.

“Can I just come in, Joel?” He finally asks. “Can we just talk about this? You can tell me where she is, I’ll set it right with her, I meant to come back for her a lot sooner.”

“Yeah,” Joel breathes out, “you really fucked up on that one.” 

He looks to you then, a silent question in his eyes.

Are you ready for this?

No. You aren’t. Three hours ago, you didn’t know this man was still breathing and the only solace you could hope for was that he was truly dead and not some fucking monster with a mushroom growing out of his gorgeous head.

Sitting, finally, with Thomasin in your aching arms to cover your aching heart, you nod and Joel lets the door open wider until Tommy's eyes are on you; your daughter.

“I'm sorry, Tommy,” Joel says. “I’m really fucking sorry.” 

[lovelytsunoda]

his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room // mick schumacher

summary: she’s a woman with very specific taste. all she wants is to be worshipped, reminded of her worth, and mick is all to happy to use her as his altar.

pairing: mick schumacher x female reader

warnings: smut, mentions of anxiety (and it’s effect on orgasms), my sweet girl just wants to be loved (she’s just like me fr), mick doesn’t let her come until she tells him how pretty she is, she calls him ‘prince charming’, pretty girl has a pretty obvious praise kink, mick has a bit of a size kink.

“i wouldn’t say i’m a sub, exactly, but I do feel more comfortable with someone else guiding me.”

it was a conversation she had been dreading for weeks. a volatile conversation, if you will. she had no idea how mick would react, what he was going to say.

if he was going to decide that she wasn’t worth it.

but he was listening, so far so good, as she listed off everything she needed to feel safe, comfortable and loved in an intimate setting.

and by an intimate setting, of course she meant sex. words couldnt describe the anxiety that shot through her veins when she thought about the mere idea of having sex with the man in front of her. the man that made her feel like she was walking on clouds, like she was the most important person in the world.

“that’s okay, schatz.” mick encouraged, placing a comforting hand on her thigh. “i can guide you.”

she smiled, placing her hand on top of his. “you know how anxious I can get, and when that happens, when I get too deep inside my head during sex, it can be really hard to reach orgasm. which can be a little embarrassing sometimes.”

“that’s okay, too. hey, there’s no pressure to come, yeah? i just want to make you feel good, bring you as much pleasure as i can.”

“okay.” her voice was shaky as she cupped his face with her right hand. “the most important thing is that I feel loved, reminded that I’m beautiful and smart and wonderful. treat me like a princess, mick.”

“darling, you don’t deserve anything less.”

in a flurry of giggles and smiles, he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her through her home to her bedroom, painted its sunny shade a pale blue, the large disney castle painting hanging above her bed. he placed her down on the bed gently, kissing her softly before pulling back.

“you do whatever you need to get comfortable, darling. i promise I’ll be right here when you get back.”

she got to her feet with a smile, jaunting over to her closet and grabbing a hanger, holding it to her chest and trying to keep mick from peeking. she peered over her shoulder, telling him as much before ducking into the bathroom to change.

she fluffed up her hair, stripping down to her bra and underwear, frowning at the butterfly pattern in the mirror. the lavender butterflies didn’t match her heather gray panties.

fuck it, she told herself, taking off her bra before throwing on the pale pink satin button down, the hem barely covering her ass as she undid the top few buttons, the pendant of her tree branch necklace resting just a over her breastbone.

she spritzed herself with a bath and body works spray, a fun and playful scent, one that made her feel alive, beautiful.

mick couldn’t hide his gasp as he watched her walk back into the room, easing the door closed behind her.

“hi.” she exhaled with a laugh, leaning against the door, hair tousled and bare legs long as she stalked towards the bed.

“hi.” mick giggled, taking her hands and guiding her to straddle his thighs, hands gently caressing her thighs as he kissed her neck gently. “you’re so pretty. and you smell nice.” he hummed, gently blowing a raspberry against her skin.

she giggled, and he swore it was the most erotic sound he had ever heard.

“can I touch you, sweet girl?” mick asked, voice husky as he traced her curves through the fabric of her shirt.

she nodded, undoing the buttons and letting the fabric fall open, fabric hanging off her slender frame as mick took her breasts in his hands, massaging them and rolling her nipples in between his fingers.

“mickey;” she giggled “that tickles, babe.”

“your tits are so perfect, my love.” he hums, kissing her skin softly. “so soft. so round. so sensitive.”

she hummed, arching into him as he used the tip of his tongue to trace one of her stretch marks. her nails dig into mick’s shoulders, a high pitched whine leaving her throat as mick gently pulled one of her nipples into his mouth.

she moaned his name, all composure falling away at his touch as both hands moved to squeeze the globes of her ass, pulling her closer to him as she braced her hands on his chest, panting heavily.

mick flipped them over, cradling her against the mattress before he got up to shed his under armour shirt. a sizeable bulge was growing in his jeans as he leaned over her, skin to skin when he kissed her hard, tongue slipping into her mouth.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n.” he managed to say in between husky kisses against her lips, neck, jaw. “i just want to stay here all day and fucking worship you like i should, like every man should. because you’re my pretty girl. all mine to pamper and love and cherish.” mick groaned as he wrapped her legs around him, her bare breasts pressing against his chest. “I’ve got to have you, darling.” he sighed as he kissed up her neck, nibbling gently on her ear. “and I want you to know that I’m yours as much as you’re mine.”

“okay, prince charming.” she hummed, arching into him. “make me feel good, mickey. i need to feel you.”

mick sat back on his heels, gently pulling down her soaked cotton panties. she looked up at him with that face, that innocent yet desperate and dirty expression so wore as she but down in her lip in anticipation.

the moan she let out when mick kissed her soaking core was enough to make him want to come then and there, moaning against her lips as he eased his tongue inside of her.

“you taste like heaven, schatzi.” he groaned as she bucked her hips against him.

“oh, mick, just like that.” she whined, head thrown back as she clutched at the top of the pillow her head rested on. “worship me, mickey.” she whispered, eyes closed as mick held her thighs open, continuing to work her with his tongue.”

“that’s it, darling. ride my face, use me to make yourself feel good.” mick encouraged as she bucked her hips into his face, causing him to shift his grip, gripping her ass tightly with one hand as the motion of his nose running over her clit made her cry out.

“oh, fuck, mick!”

“that’s my good girl.” he moaned, plunging his tongue back into her. “so nice and wet for me. do you want my cock, princess? are you ready to be spoiled?”

“yes, mick.” she panted, a sheen of sweat covering her body as she fell back against the sheets. “please, i need you.”

“I’m right here, baby. right here.” mick said softly, kissing her forehead as he got up to strip down, discarding his jeans and boxers on the floor, rolling a condom over his rock-hard cock. “just lie back and let me spoil my pretty girl.”

she moaned, desperate and needy as mick began to slide inside her, a growl escaping from his throat as he gently slid inside, taking her hand in his and cradling it next to her head.

“so good for me, pretty girl. so perfect. so warm and wet and wonderful.” he hummed, kissing her forehead as she closed her eyes, chest rising and falling as she hummed, trying to get used to micks size. “you okay?”

“yeah. yeah, I’m alright. just nervous.”

“if you get anxious and feel like you can’t tell me, just tap my arm twice, okay? we can stop, grab some snacks, curl up and watch a movie if that’s what you want to do.”

“i love you.” she said softly, leaning up to kiss him. “what did I do to deserve you, mick schumacher?”

“you didn’t do anything, sweetheart. i should be asking what I did to deserve you.”

“mick?”

“yes, pretty girl?”

“you can move now.”

mick slowly pulled back, thrusting in gently to start, paying very careful attention to every twitch of her muscles, every breath she let out.

she looked so small, letting out little, breathy moans underneath him, nails digging into his biceps. her fingers couldn’t even wrap all the way around his muscles.

small but strong, he reminded himself as he thought about what must be running through her head, what anxious and intrusive thoughts she must be fighting.

he was proud of her.

“harder, mick. harder.” she begged, voice a high pitched whine as she pleaded with him.

he leaned down to kiss her, swallowing her moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into her faster, harder and deeper. she whined against him, nails digging into his tanned skin hard enough to draw blood as he bit gently on her lip.

“fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.” she moaned. “you’re so big.”

“only the best for my princess.” mick grunted, adjusting his position to go deeper, heart skipping a beat as she screamed his name. at first, he worried he’d hurt her, but the ‘fuck yes’ that followed her surprised shout was enough to reassure him that she was fine.

“yeah, yeah, I’m your princess, mickey.” she whined, a feeling that was nothing less than pure euphoria spreading through her body as she looked up at mick, eyes wide and hair matted to skin as she cling to his broad shoulders. “fuck me like I’m yours. the most important thing in your life.”

she’s never felt this treasured during sex before. the anxiety had started to ebb away as soon as mick put his lips on her cunt.

she had never been comfortable with the duality: how a man could be the sweetest most loving person on earth outside the bedroom, but would call a girl a slut and demand she get on her knees once the door was closed. and that was fine for some people, more power to them, she had decided, but it never worked for her. made her uneasy, let the negative thoughts in.

mick kissed up her neck, cradling her face with one hand and clutching at the sheets with the other. “yeah, you’re my beautiful beautiful girl. the one I love most.”

“i am, yes! oh, yes, i am, i am.” she could hardly form a sentence from how good mick made her feel, every thought turning to mush in her head.

“i need you to say it, pretty girl. i want you to tell me how pretty you are.”

“mick.” she whined, bucking her hips into his as he began to slow down.

“i need you to say it pretty girl. because only gorgeous gorgeous girls get to cum.”

“you’re mean.” she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip as mick laughed, leaning down to kiss her.

“I’m trying to get you to be more comfortable complimenting yourself.” mick reasoned, brushing her sweaty hair from her face. “i want you to love yourself the way that I do.”

“that’s actually shockingly sweet, mickey.” she smiled, running her thumb up and down his arm. “thank you.”

“anything for my pretty girl. now, let’s try this again.” he grinned mischeviously as he began so fuck her again, hips moving at a bruising pace.”

“yes, mick, I’m your beautiful girl.” she moaned. “I’m so fucking beautiful.”

mick groaned, feeling her walls clench around him as she hurtled towards her orgasm. “yes, yes you are, pretty girl. you’re my pretty girl. are you going to come for me, princess?”

“mick, i-i think-“

“it’s okay, darling.” he soothed, gently rubbing her clit with one hand, holding her hand with the other. “just breathe through it, I’ve got you. you’re safe with me.”

with a high-pitched whine and an arch of her back, hiding her face in micks neck as she squealed, she came undone around him, coating his cock as she fell limp in his arms, his lips kissing her skin softly as he reached his own high.

“that’s it, pretty girl. you did so well for me. lie down, I’ve got you. i know you’re overstimulated, just breathe.”

after his own climax, mick got to his feet, throwing out the condom and helping y/n out of her sweat-stained blouse and into her softest pajamas and a pair of playful cotton panties. he redressed in his boxers, sliding into bed and pulling her into his arms.

“how do you feel, schatzi?” mick asked softly, runnin his fingers through her hair. “how was I? was there anything you didn’t like or that felt overwhelming?”

she shook her head, yawning as she looked up at him through lidded eyes. “you were perfect.”

“i felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. the way I always feel when I’m with you”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @oconso @cl16version @cartierre @scuderiamh @thatsdemko @libraryofloveletters @monzabee

[strniohoeee]

Detained

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N hates when Chris does stupid shit and brings her along. This night however it didn’t end up how they thought it would 🚔

Warning⚠️: SMUTTTTTTTTT. They was fucking in a holding cell…dirty HOES anyways ENJOYYYYY

Song for the imagine: Deceptacon- Le Tigre

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

I love Chris with my whole heart, but sometimes he can be a fucking idiot. He does stupid shit that could get us in trouble yet doesn’t seem to care. He’s like a reckless child trapped in a grown man’s body

I always yelled at him for it, but he didn’t care clearly. He had this bad habit as of recently where he takes me out with him. I’m thinking we’re doing something cute, but then he starts pulling these shenanigans

I’ve given up. I just stay in the car and ignore him for the rest of the night because we’re 21 not 15, and this hooligan bullshit had to stop….

This brings us to right now it’s midnight, and I’d prefer to be sleeping or watching a movie, and what does Chris want to do? He wants to go be a fucking idiot, and I agreed like an idiot

He didn’t tell me what he had planned, but I knew it was bad. When he didn’t tell me his plans it usually resulted in crazy shit happening that could get us arrested.

“Chris, where are you taking us?” I asked him

“Somewhere fun come on baby lighten up” he said winking at me

“You know you’re going to get caught soon like this shit has to stop” I said rolling my eyes at him

“Babyyyyy come on live a little don’t you like the thrill” he said looking over at me

“Yeah I like thrill….like a rollercoaster or ziplining not illegal shit” I said

“You know me! I’m safe we won’t get caught I promise” he said

“Whatever….if you get arrested I’m ratting your ass out, and you can stay in jail” I said hugging

“I won’t get caught, but nice to know you have my back” he said sarcastically

He drove for another 20 minutes before he pulled up to what looked like an abandoned building from where he parked.

We got out and started to walk to the building, but it looked new

“Chris what the fuck are you doing this is not abandoned” I said to him

“I’m sure it it, I’ve been scoping this place out for a few days, no one comes in and out” he said

“Scoping out your next stupid activity is bizarre” I said annoyed

“Just come on” he said

We walked through some fences, and finally got to the building

“Alright baby let’s have some fun” he said pulling out spray paint cans from his sweatpant pockets

“Chris where the fuck did you get those, and how did I not see” I said looking at him

“Don’t worry about that, just have some fun” he said giving me the pink spray paint

I reluctantly took it, and we used our phone flash lights to illuminate the wall

Chris went straight in with his red spray paint just spraying dumb shit all over the walls

“Really a dick?” I said rolling my eyes

“Don’t cramp my style babe I’m just having fun” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Whatever” I said and began to paint the wall too

I wanted to hate this so much, but it was so much fucking fun just spray painting random shit on the walls

Suddenly we heard the leaves crunching in the distance

“Chris someone’s here” I said stopping

“No they aren’t it’s probably an animal” he said continuing to paint

“I don’t know I’m getting scared” I said looking around but not seeing anything

“Stop being a pussy” he said laughing

“HEY WHOS THERE” we hear a deep voice yell

“Chris you fucking idiot” I said in a whisper yell

“Shhh” he said pulling me in and turning his flashlight off

“You didn’t check if this place was surveillanced by cops” I said

“That I didn’t do” he said

“You’re so fucking stupid” I said to him

“Shhh I think they left” Chris said trying to listen

It got really quiet and we thought the close was clear, until suddenly a cop appeared flashing his bright light at us

“STAY RIGHT THERE” he yelled

Chris and I looked at each other

“RUNNNN” Chris said

All I know is Chris grabbed my hand and pulled me. We were running through the pitchblack

“I TOLD YOU, YOU WOULD GET CAUGHT” I screamed at him as we ran

“SHUT UP WE HAVE TO GET AWAY FROM HIM” Chris yelled

We saw street lights and a road, so we ran that way and once he was off our trail we’d circle back around to Chris' car.

We ran towards the street, and as we ran squad cars circled us, and four cops came up behind us with their guns drawn

“FREEZE PUT YOUR HANDS UP” one screamed

Chris and I both threw our hands up in the air looking at the cops

“DROP TO YOUR KNEES” one yelled

“Is that necessary we have our hands up” Chris said

“CHRIS SHUT UP” I yelled and started to get down on my knees

Chris didn’t though, and one cop tackled him down causing him to scratch his face on the pavement

“GET DOWN I SAID” he yelled at Chris

“HEY GET OFF OF MY BOYFRIEND HE DIDNT DO SHIT” I yelled as another cop got on my back bringing my hands behind my back

“Both of you shut up before you make it worse for yourselves” they said

“Chris Chris just relax let them arrest you” I said to him

They eventually got us cuffed and picked us up putting us in their squad car

“You’re so dumb” I said not looking at Chris

“I thought we had that” he said

“Yeah well we didn’t, and now we’re arrested, and your face is cut up” I said shaking my head

“I’m sorry” he said

“Yeah you should be I can’t believe you right now” I said rolling my eyes

They drove us to the precinct where we got our mugshots taken and our fingerprints done.

“You guys will be held in a cell block till we hear from the company you vandalized, they can press charges or they can drop them, and as of right now your bail is set at 1,000 each” the officer said bluntly

“This is bullshit” Chris said

“Should’ve thought about that before being idiots” he said smiling at us

“Can I get patched up for the cuts?” Chris asked

“Mmm nurse is off duty right now maybe in the morning” he said chewing his gum like an asshole

“Do I get a phone call?” I asked

“One call” he said

I had called Nick explaining what Chris got me into, and what our bail was set at. They said they’d see what they can do while we all waited for the company to get back to the officers

Chris and I were the only ones in the cell block yet they put us all the way in the last one

“I’m not supposed to put yall together, but you seem harmless” the guard said locking the cell

“Thanks for that how sweet” Chris said sarcastically

“Chris shut the fuck up for once” I said getting annoyed

“As long as you keep your hands to yourself, and watch that mouth of yours you guys can stay in here” the guard said

“Thank you sir” I said nodding my head and sitting down

“My face hurts” Chris said wincing

“Good I hope it does” I said rolling my eyes at him

“The way you tried to defend me earlier was so hot” he said looking at me

“Not now” I said bluntly

“My girl fighting for me….Ouu swore I got hard” he said winking at me

“We’re in a fucking prison cell, and all you think with is your dick….classic Chris” I said rolling my eyes

“Come on baby…..don’t you find any of this hot” he said

“No” I said

“Us running from the cops and being arrested. I don’t know seeing you in handcuffs was pretty hot” he said sitting next to me

“Your face being cut up and bleeding is the only hot thing” I said looking over at him

“Ouuu she finds bloody men hot” he said winking at me

“You’re so horny all the time” I said laughing

“I can’t help it” he said

“You think we could fuck and get away with it?” He asked

“First off no and second off that’s disgusting LOOK WHERE WERE AT” I kind of yelled at him

“Oh come on baby you can ride, and you won’t touch anything” he said

“You’re a dog” I said scoffing at him

“So is that a yes?” He asked looking at me

“Uhh fine only because you’re hot” I said

I got up and straddled his lap kissing him and running my hands through his hair

“We have to be really quiet though” I said to him

“Yes baby anything for you” he said kissing my neck

He came back up and continued to make out with me as I grinded down onto him

“Fuck Chris” I said biting my lip

He kissed my neck as he ran his hands up and down my body occasionally squeezing my ass and breasts

“Chris I need you now” I said grinding on his erection

“Me too baby” he said with half lidded eyes

I got up and removed my sweatpants leaving my underwear on so he could just push them to the side

Chris lifted up to pull his sweats down, and just pulled his dick out of his boxers

“Spit baby” he said stroking his dick

I leaned over and spat on his dick as he stroked his dick

I got back on his lap, and he slip my panties to the side

“Ready baby?” He asked

“Yeah” I breathed out

I slowly slid down onto his dick feel full

“Fuckkk” He whispered out

I slowly started to bounce up and down on him

“Shit Chris this feels so good” I said throwing my head back

“You’re such a dirty girl” he said rubbing my ass

“Shut up” I moaned out

I continued to bounce on his dick and making out with him to silence our moans. I then started to grind on his dick to allow my clit to get stimulated

“Shit Chris I’m going to cum” I said in a whisper grinding harder as he gripped my ass harder

“Come on baby you got this” he said helping me grind harder

“Fuckkkk” I said as my jaw fell and I started to grind down harder

“I won’t be able to hold out much longer” he whispered to me

“Okay okay” I said grinding on him

He brought his hand down to my clit and started to rub with his thumb

“Shittttt” I said shutting my eyes hard

“I’m cumming baby I’m cumming” I said as my mouth fell slack and fell into his chest, my legs shaking as I came all over his cock

“Come on baby you gonna swallow for me?” He said helping me ride out my high

“Yes baby” I said in a whisper

He helped me off of his dick, and I got down to my knees as he stroked his dick, his mouth falling slack as he covered his mouth cumming on my tongue, and I swallowed every last drop

“Fuck you’re so good to me” He said rubbing my cheek

“Always for you baby” I said standing up, and putting my sweatpants back on

He put his dick back into his boxers and pulled his pants up. I got up and laid down on the bench next to him laying my head on his lap

“You better never ever do this shit again” I said looking up at him

“I promise I won’t no matter how hot Jail sex is” he said laughing

“You pervert” I said playfully smacking him

“I’m kidding I won’t trust me I learned, I hope they don’t press charges and I pray Nick and Matt bail us out” Chris said leaning his head against the wall

“Yeah same” I said

We kept talking until we both dozed off

“ALRIGHT Y/N AND CHRISTOPHER YOUVE BEEN BAILED OUT” we heard a guard yell

We immediately jumped out of our sleep

“Shit what time is it” Chris asked rubbing his eyes

“8AM, let’s go” the guard said gesturing with his hands

“Okay yeah” we both said scrambling to our feet and following him

He brought us out to the front where we signed some papers, and we walked outside to see Nick and Matt waiting for us

“Ayyy you guys came” Chris said hugging his brothers

“Yeah you owe us $2,000” Matt said hugging him

“What the fuck did you do” Nick said

“This idiot decided to be an idiot at the wrong place” I said to them

“Typical Chris, come on let’s had back to the house” Matt said

We got in the car and headed back to the house where we showered and had to go back and get Chris' car from the building. What an interesting life I was living with Chris

The End

Alright this was for my bestie, but I hoped all your guys enjoyed this😏🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[piss-pumpkin]

🔒That time you died(?)🩸

(Older)dipper pines x reader, Douce amere chapter 20, ~3.3k words Masterlist Prev

Tw- violence/blood

Ford used spray paint to draw the zodiac in the grass on the mystery shacks front lawn. You watched on the porch, arms folded into a chin rest as you stared out. You hadn’t been outside the shacks magical borders in a while. The sun was bright. Brighter than you remembered, as dramatic as that felt to think.

Everyone was gathered around. Pacifica and Dipper were inside together. Ford was nodding along with McGucket as he drew out the symbols. Robbie, Wendy, Mabel, and Gideon were chatting by Robbie’s car: halfway broken down Honda that he’d spray painted himself. 

You smiled. Despite everything, it was a nice summer afternoon. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the sun was bright overhead. It might’ve been enough to make you an optimist. 

Sighing, you stood up and stretched your arms above your head.  Maybe the sun was making you tired. Or maybe you could barely sleep with the anticipation. One or the other, either way you yawned on your way to the vending machine. 

Lazily, you typed in a code, and got a Pitt cola. It was only a little gross. The pit wasn’t great. Sighing, you sat with your back to the machine, and sipped the drink. It might be a long day. Or not, if… you know. Whatever. You might not have known much, but you knew the waiting, no matter how long it really was, felt like a lifetime. 

“Hey,” said Dipper, leaning on the machine beside you. His eye bags looked a little like war paint. Or maybe you were just searching for some sort of fight, or battle, and could find it anywhere. It would be so much easier if this was a fight. 

You nodded up at him, and he slunk down beside you. “So,” he started awkwardly, watching the same scene as you. The preparations were pretty much done. Guess everyone was waiting on you, now.

You smiled, “So,” you echoed. 

“Are you still sure about this?” He asked, studying your face. You could feel the way his eyes burnt into you.

You sighed, “Guess so.”

That must not have been the answer he was hoping for. Dipper didn’t say anything more, but his gaze never left your face, even as you looked back on the others, sipping your drink. The letter you’d written him was carefully tucked under your bag in Soos’ break room. Hidden just enough that they’d only find it if things went wrong. If all went well, you could get rid of all your papers nice and easy. 

You tapped your feet against the porch, crushing you’re empty can, “are you ready?” 

“I should be asking you that,” Dipper laughed dejectedly. He glanced at Ford and his red paint zodiac on the grass. 

You snickered, “You already have.”

Dipper pulled his knees close to his chest, and rested his chin on them. “Then I guess I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” he sighed. 

You smiled, lightly hitting him in the leg. You let your hand linger there a good moment, and flicked him when you pulled it back. “It’ll be fine, man,” you promised. He didn’t look like he believed it. But he nodded along with you. 

Well, soon Bill would be out of your mind, and you could go back to… whatever summer you had left. You took a breath, stood up, and stretched your arms above your head. Smiling tiredly down at him, you offered Dipper a hand up.

He bit the inside of his cheek, and took it. Once his hand was firmly in yours, you heaved him up with force, leaning back on your heels and sending him stumbling forward with a grumble. “Come one, Dip,” you snickered. 

You stepped off the porch towards the group. When you got down the stairs, you stopped. The grass felt nice on your ankles. The shacks magical border was ahead of you. You weren’t sure where on the lawn your safety ended, but it couldn’t be far now. The circle was drawn a few meters away. All you had to do was step out there. 

Dipper waited beside you. Maybe he could sense your apprehension. You slowly inched forward, unsure when the effect would kick in. 

You took a little baby step. And another. One foot, and then the other. You must have looked a little silly. Each step you waited for him to come back. Where was that barrier? It had to be getting closer. You didn’t feel any difference as you-

And then it hit. Once tiny step forward, and you may as well have been stabbed in the head. You little- you’re going to regret this. “Oh shit,” you started, stumbling forward. Dipper caught you by the arm. I’m going to kill him. Then you. You’re not as good a host as I thought. So he’s here already. You looked down at the grass, the spot that must have been the barrier. If you stepped back, you’d be safe. But you weren’t going to do that. 

”Y/n?” Dipper asked. But his voice was like a distant echo. All you could focus on was the headache. Yeah, he’s gone, Bills voice rang through your ears. Just yours though, it seemed. You turned to Dipper, face twisted with pain. Good chance you didn’t have long before he was in control. 

“I’m, uh-“ you tried. Oh god, it’s happening. You looked up. Oh no. You couldn’t much feel the headache anymore. Your eyes fixed on Dipper, and you were vaguely aware of his hand on your forearm. Bill. “Hey Pinetree,” Bill said, grinning. His smile felt sick on your lips. 

His grip around you tightened for a moment, then all at once fell away. “Guys, he’s here!” Dipper shouted, turning to the crowd. Yeah, get his ass. Fuck him up. 

Bill was back in control. That was fast. Your pulse was racing, heart pounding. He must be a little anxious. Bill we’re totally gonna kill you, you taunted in your mind. You’re so dead. “Then so are you, host body,” he laughed. Guess he know everything you knew, considering you were stuck together. He could sense your worry, maybe. He giggled, “you bet!”

Then the wind was knocked out of you. It was all you could do to watch as you fell to the ground, and Dipper backed away slowly, even as you hit the grass. Whatever attacked you came from the side, and flipped you into your stomach to hold you down. 

“Bill,” Ford said. Your vision was a little blurry, and your cheeks pressed into the dirt. Ford had your arm locked behind you to keep you down. Good. Keep him that way. Don’t give him the chance. 

Bill hissed under your breath, voice pushed out through barred teeth. Grass brushed pay your lips as he opened your mouth. “You’re really going down with the ship on this one?” You weren’t sure the others could hear his hushed tone. This was just for you. “How noble. Dead at what, sixteen?” 

Oh my god, does he know something we don’t? You thought. You’re gonna be fine, you told yourself, Ford said it was a maybe. But… 

Dippers words echoed through your mind. All the warnings. Bill tricks people, it’s what he does, you thought. You could feel your finger nails dig into the dirt, ripping through grass roots as Bill curled your fingers with rage. I’ll be fine, you thought louder. Loud enough for him to hear. 

Bill grumbled as Ford, Stan and Wendy hauled you up to your feet, starting to pull you towards the circle. A pit was forming in your stomach as Bill growled under your breath. Holy shit, he was scared. This could just work. 

But then in one swift motion, your legs flew out from under you. Bill shot your foot out straight into Fords knee, sending him buckling to the ground as he groaned in pain. The exclamations of the others were like a far off call, most of what you heard was the thumping in your ears, and the guilty sound of Fords pain. 

In the small moment of panic, Bill was turning the tide. He whipped your arm out of Wendy’s grasp, and tried to trip Stan on his way out. 

Stop. If you had any control of your breath, it might have quickened. Bill took heavy steps on your feet as he tried to pick up speed on your weary legs. Guess you still had some energy left after this whole ordeal.

”Don’t think so,” Bill hissed. 

“I don’t either,” Dipper cut in. Where’d he come from? Bill stumbled as he grabbed you, wrapping his arms around you to stop Bill from fighting back. And suddenly Wendy was racing back, and before Bill could even think about swinging your legs again, she grabbed you by the ankles, forcing your legs up so her and Dipper could carry you. As Bill struggled and wriggled, she hugged your feet close to her body to sequester them. 

Oh my god. They’ve got this. The force of their hold was tight, but it lifted a weight off your chest. 

Bills voice was a whisper, barely even words. Maybe he didn’t even speak, and just moved your lips. Either way, you heard it loud and clear, “Wanna bet I can talk my way out of this?” Despite everything, he still acted like he had the upper hand. Calm, calculated. You would’ve shuddered.

The eyes of the others were searing into you. Whenever Bill thrashed, you caught glimpses of horrified expressions across the board. Even Robbie looked unsettled, and unsettling was usually the vibe he was going for. The only one who didn’t look phased was McGucket. Though Ford and Stan were still out of sight. 

Hope Fords leg is alright. Another apology to add to the list that was growing more every time you stepped outside. Had you apologized to Stan yet for stealing his car? 

Wendy groaned, resisting a kick, “how are we gonna do this?” 

Bill was yelling and laughing, very much incoherently to you. You did your best to focus on your friends voices. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Ford hobbling over with Stan supporting him under arm. “They need to be restrained,” he said stiffly.

Wendy and Dipper paused, and you got an under hand look at Dippers face, mostly his chin, as he hesitated. They shared a glance as Bill squirmed. What happened to talking his way out? Bill didn’t seem to be trying very hard. 

“Have a little patience,” Bill whispered. Even without control of your body, it made you feel cold. You stared idly wherever Bill pointed your head as Wendy tied your hands behind your back. No more fighting back. Duct tape restraints dig into your wrists, but the feeling seemed far away. Your ankles were next. 

If Bill was going to make a move, he didn’t show it. They carried you to the centre of the circle, entrapped by the zodiacs members in case Bill found an away to escape again. Bill kept your eyes trained on Dipper, Mabel, and Stan, even as Ford spoke to him. You could feel the beginnings of a sick grin on your lips. 

The twins faces were locked in a grimace, but they steeled themselves. They didn’t speak to him, even when Bill started to laugh. Oh my god, stop that. Dippers eyes flickered to the grass at his feet rather than look at your face. Bill wriggled to the edge of the circle to hone in on him. Stop that. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Bill whispered. Maybe he just mouthed it again. 

Ugh. You’re freaking him out. In a second you wanted to hit yourself for thinking that out loud. If Bill was looking for a weak link, you’d confirmed he found it. Dippers eyes were trained on the grass. 

Bill giggled. Shit. He looked up at Dipper with those big manic eyes and wide smile. 

Ford had finished saying something to the group, maybe telling them what to do. They all held hands. Thunder clapped in the distance. Wasn’t it sunny? A peripheral glimpse overhead showed grey clouds gathering overhead. A faint blue glow emanated from the group. Shit, that was fast. Is this it working? The wind was picking up around you, seemingly coming from all directions towards the centre of the circle.

So, this might go according to plan, then. That’s… good. You’ll be fine. 

Then Bill did something that surprised you. You could feel your body contort as he winced, and sucked a breath in through barred teeth. Your face was twisted in a grimace as he let out a small cry. He might’ve been doing his best impression of you. 

I- what are you doing? Even with your senses dulled, you could tell there was no pain. The most pressing sensation was just the grass beneath you and the tape around your joints.

Then it clicked. Dipper was staring down at you, horrified. Oh no. Do not. Bill, no. Your laughter perforated the air as Bill cackled. Doing his best impression of your pain, he said, “Are you really willing to let them die over me?” 

Don’t listen, we’re fine, you wanted to shout. But you couldn’t. Dipper was glancing back and forth between you and Mabel, occasionally Ford. Bill giggling drowned out Fords voice across the circle. 

Bill coughed. That’s just dramatic, why would this affect our lungs? Our lungs. You would’ve kicked yourself for saying our. They were your lungs, he was just occupying them. “Your loss I guess,” Bill said to Dipper, doing his best at a pained smile. 

Dipper shouted over you, “Ford, is it supposed to hurt them?”

”I don’t know,” a faint voice yelled back. Dipper bit the inside of his cheek, and by the way it moved you could tell he was chewing. He grimaced, but didn’t break his hand hold on Wendy beside him. Good. 

Bill was on your knees, and with a groan turned your head down to the grass, hiding your expression. A few dew drops sparkled with the light that got through the shade of your head and hair. He glared at the ground and mouthed, ‘fine, you really want me to play?’ 

You didn’t. That is definitely not what you wanted. How much longer did Bill even have? The circuit had been complete for a few moments now. This had to be over soon. 

Bill was doing your voice. Your mannerisms. Just the way you’d speak. “Hey, wait- wait,” he sputtered. “Is- is this supposed to hurt? I don’t think I’m ready!” Crocodile tears were welling in your eyes as your head whipped up to look at Dipper again. Stay strong. 

Dipper stayed strong. “Yes, good, staying strong,” you said. Wait, what? Bill grumbled, and your face knit back into a knot of pain. Hold on, are you losing control here? You wanted to laugh, maybe punch the air. Instead, your fist twitched as it gripped the grass. Baby steps. 

Bill threw your body down, wiggling away from Dipper again, your eyes laser focused on the ground, scanning the dirt. “Fine then,” Bill growled. “We’ll play a different type of game.” Your bound hands might’ve made you look like an inchworm. 

Bill stopped before a rock in the dirt. Wait. What are you- 

Bill slammed your head into the stone.

The pain was dull. In the same way most senses were, like the yelling that sounded far off, or the grass beneath you. Bill went in for another smash, nailing you in the forehead between the eyes. The clearest feeling you had was a small trickle of blood creeping down to your nose. Stop stop stop stop stop stop. You saw the ground rapidly approaching again. Stop.

You didn’t hit rock. When your head came up again, a hand came into focus beneath you. Bill whipped around to look, grin on your lips even as the blood from your forehead hit them. The same blood was wiped on Dippers the back of hand now. Dipper. Dipper Dipper Dipper. 

Bill was still smiling. And with a twitch of your lips you felt the grin widen seeing Dippers maddened distress as his hands flew to your shoulders. 

He didn’t seem to know what to say. He gritted his teeth, and stared into your yellow eyes. Thank you. Thank you. “Thank you,” you managed to say. 

“Dipper, the circuit!” Ford shouted. He sounded muffled and far away.

Dippers eyes didn’t leave you even as he yelled back, “Someone needs to hold them down!” Pulling his sleeve over his hand, he wiped the blood from your forehead, and pressed the fabric in to stop the blood. When he pulled it back, it had a bigger dark stain than you’d have liked. 

Mabel and Pacifica fell to their knees beside him, rushing over to you both. Pacifica might have asked what was going on. Her voice sounded far away. Bills echoing laughter was the clearest noise. Weird we aren’t passed out yet, huh?

’you aren’t that much of a little bitch,’ Bill mouthed. In one swift motion, he swung your head forward again, making the floor spin below you. Your head clashed straight on Dippers skull. Your vision was blurry when you pulled back, but you saw blood smeared in his birthmark where his hair parted.

Dipper stumbled back, breathing heavy. That was Mabel and Pacificas wake up call. Them, and maybe some others- it was a blur to you- came forth to steady your head. 

Yells sounded garbled and underwater. Dipper looked so scared. He tapped and brushed at the blood on his forehead while his eyes were trained on you. He looked a little like when he first fought you- Bill- off. 

Bill laughed, thrashing when they tried to restrain him. 

Fords calm and steady hands came from behind, and his voice was clear. “I’ve got them,” he said, dragging you back away from the rest. “We need to complete the circuit, that’s the only way to end this.”

How he managed to steady his voice was beyond you. The world was spinning, Dipper was terrified, all your friends looked at you with a mix of pity and horror, but at least Ford was steady. Guess he’d probably done something like this before. Stan seemed to nod along too, and was the first to retake his place on the circle.

Ford carefully forced you to the ground, and put his foot down to hold you. With your body weak, and Ford strong, Bill couldn’t wriggle out. 

As everyone linked hands again, the faint blue light and storming counts above came back. 

Bill laughed. Then it was you for a moment as he lost a little control. Then he was back with a growl. Once more he started talking, and each word seemed to come out muffled or slurred or with a gasp for breath as the world spun. “I’ll be back,” he declared. “Again, and again, you can’t get rid of me,” he giggled with a malicious glee. He swallowed, “Sixer, you must know that, right?” 

Ford grumbled.

”This isn’t how it was meant to happen, but next time will be better. You think the zodiac can end me?” Bill laughed. “Caveman drawings are nothing! This is nothing!”

Your face was pressed into the grass. Things were starting to get dark and spotty. Maybe it was Bill, maybe it was your head, it maybe it was the pressure of Fords boot. You had a hundred reasons to pass out now. 

But Bill held on. “A x o l o t l-“ 

And then it all went black.

Next

Fellas. A little before writing this I watched ‘talk to me’ it’s an Australian horror movie and like iykyk cuz I sure did steal some ideas 😭

Also we pretty much caught up to where I’ve written too so like you’re experience the story around the same time I am now 😭

Taglist: @dead-esque @cipheress-to-k-pop

[medusapelagia]

23 Meet me at Skull Rock

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: Skull Rock) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt:Musician ), @aug-kissed (prompt: Using Tongue) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: no one Words: 1403

(Did Tumblr eat my fic... AGAIN?! Yes! It did! But now I'm smarter and I have copies! Lol XD)

The car is parked down the road, hidden behind a thick bush and a big tree, the same place Steve used every time he hung out at Skull Rock. Nobody could see it from the street and that gave him all the privacy he needed.

Steve has been to Skull Rock so many times by now, but every time was different from the time before.

There was a time when he was still King Steve and he used to come here with the girl of the week. There was a time when he was just Steve, and he drove Nancy here just to look at the stars and intertwine their fingers. There was a time when he was a warrior, ready to fight, and he came to save a friend.

But this time...

This time is different from all the other times.

This time is a goodbye.

Eddie hasn’t really told him, but when he asked him to meet at Skull Rock Steve immediately got it. The road is close enough to the highway. They can share a joint, drink a beer or two, and then Eddie will drive his car far away from Hawkins. From the place that was never home to him. And Steve will remain. Because his roots are deep and strong and he can’t move. Not when the boys are still there. Not when Robin has promised to take a year off to help him figure out what he wants to do with his life. Not when his parents finally came back to take care of him even if he doesn’t need it anymore.

“My liege! Come! Sit down! I already started a fire and brought some s’mores.”

Steve sits on the ratty blanket Eddie has laid down on the ground to protect his royal ass from the bumpy rocks, grabbing a marshmallow and stabbing it with a stick, roasting it on the flame.

Crackers and chocolate are waiting for him at Eddie’s side when he puts the hot candy out of the fire.

“So, you’re going to try?” Steve asks, squishing the marshmallow between the crackers and the chocolate.

“I have nothing to lose,” Eddie mumbles, his mouth full of crackers and some chocolate dripping down his fingers.

“Musician. That’s a cool career.”

“That’s the dream: playing my songs in an arena full of people who sing along with me. And there are other benefits. Like groupies, free stuff, and money. So much money.” Eddie adds in a dreamy tone.

“Yeah. It sounds, nice.”

“I know I’m dreaming big, but you should try it sometime. It really changes your day.  And even if I won’t make it, I will be far from this stupid town anyway, so that’s a plus. In a big town like Los Angeles, I could get lost in no time. No more angry parents threatening me or Wayne, no more slashed tires. No more spray paint on the trailer. Yeah. It sounds like Paradise.”

“The boys?”

“Jeff is coming with me, he is going to attend college in California anyway, And next year Gareth and Frank will graduate too so we’ll be reunited. And maybe we’ll finally make it big. If not, there are so many bars where we could play. I'm not worried at all.”

Steve nods quietly while inside him his feelings are bubbling like a hot soup. He reaches out to grab another marshmallow, and his hand bumps into Eddie’s. The metal head smiles brightly, “Didn’t know you had a sweet tooth,” he says, offering him the bag to grab another candy, but that seems to be Steve’s breaking point. He drops the bag of candies, not caring about ants or other insects, and pushes Eddie with his shoulders to the ground.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers on Eddie’s lips, “tell me you don’t want this and I’ll leave.”

Eddie’s eyes have always been big, but right now they are huge pools of chocolate brown staring at him in astonishment.

He doesn’t ask Steve to stop, he doesn’t push him away or scream against him, he grabs the back of Steve’s head with one hand and drags him toward himself. Eddie tastes like chocolate and candies with a hint of cheap beer, that’s what Steve will remember about his first kiss with a man. His hands are strong and his long slim fingers are curling on Steve’s back, urging him closer, and closer. They’re chest to chest, Steve practically crushing Eddie with his body, and then Steve’s tongue pushes a little bit harder and Eddie grants him permission to kiss him deeply. Their tongue meets halfway, as if they couldn’t wait to finally touch each other. Steve’s tongue twirls and moves faster into Eddie’s mouth and Eddie follows his lead, obediently. It’s not so different from kissing a girl, the only difference is Eddie’s chapped lips and a hint of beard growth brushing against Steve’s chin, but Steve doesn’t startle at the realization that he’s kissing a man. He just makes himself softer and kinder, not wanting to leave Eddie with a bad memory of their first kiss.

Steve doesn’t know how long they keep kissing, he hasn’t made out for so long in months and he’s somehow surprised when he finds Eddie straddling him, their hard dicks brushing one against the other behind their jeans.

But then Eddie retreats, crawling backward on the blanket.

“What was that?” he asks, cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand, and Steve knows he fucked up, he really did.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Is that so? I don’t know what I was thinking?! You fucking kissed me, man!” Eddie yells, “You… you stole it from me!”

“I didn’t steal anything.” Steve replies tiredly, “I kissed you, I made a big mistake, and I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, you should have not!” Eddie insists, and now he’s standing, touching with his fingertips his plum lips, “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know Eds. I wanted to, okay? You’re leaving anyway, why does it matter? It’s not like you have never been kissed before!” Steve sighs, brushing a hand through his hair, and then the realization hits him. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t your first kiss, right? You… you have all those dirty magazines you bought in Indy, you always talk about that stupid hanky code. You… you have never been kissed before.” Steve whispers, pinching his nose, “Listen, man, I’m sorry, ok? I didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t mean it? Thank you, Steve! That makes things so much better!” Eddie complains, his arms crossed in front of him, “Hey Eddie, I stole your first kiss because I was drunk and sad. I don’t even like boys but you were here so I just did it. Sorry. But we’re fine right?” Eddie yells, mocking Steve’s voice.

“That’s not… It’s not like that, ok? It wasn’t…”

“It wasn’t what? An experiment? A test?”

“I do like you, moron!” Steve finally yells and his voice reverberates in the quiet of the woods, then he lowers his tone, “I do like you. I have liked you for quite a bit but I never gather the courage to say anything. And now you’re leaving and I won’t see you again, and maybe you’re right, I’m sad and drunk. But I did mean it, Eddie. It wasn’t an experiment. I swear.” Steve almost whispers, avoiding staring at Eddie in the eyes. 

The metalhead is still standing in front of the fire, his silhouette dark and ominous.

“You did? You really meant it?” Eddie asks, and this time it looks like his crossed arms are pulling him together instead of shielding him.

“I did. I do.”

Very slowly, Eddie sits back on the blanket, “I’m going to leave anyway,” Eddie reminds him.

“I know. It’s the right thing to do.” Steve agrees.

“But maybe… you and Buckley could think about joining me next year. Or the year after.”

Steve reaches out with one hand, caressing Eddie’s arm.

“I’d love to.”

“So… maybe we can try again? Practice makes perfect, you know?”

Steve chuckles, “Yes. Yes, we can. Come here, babe.”

They kiss until the sun rises and when they get back to their cars Eddie’s last promise is that he’ll call him as soon as he’ll find a place to stay. And if Steve is already waiting for Eddie's call, sitting next to the phone, is none‘s business.

[size0forhollywood]

Metafiction

Pt 7

Content Warning: 21+, ptsd, vomiting, Xavier appears, Wanderers, Violence, Mental Trauma, forced proximity, murder, torture.

A/N: Do I smell a love triangle coming? His sweet tenderness and boyish charms hook you in.. and you can’t help but take the bait.

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

Your head is pounding. Your whole body aches and your mouth is dry. You can hear the hum of a car. You’re sitting in one? How did that happen?

“Are you awake?”

You know that voice. It’s so soft. So ethereal.

You groan, your body really does hurt. What happened?

“Everything’s going to be okay now. I’m taking you to Linkon City.”

Linkon City? You’re finally able to open your eyes. You look down at your body, blood all over you. Bits and pieces of what happened are starting to come back to you.

“Those guys…”

“They’re not going to hurt you or anyone else again.”

You look at the driver, taking in his ashy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. You finally recognise him.

“Xavier..?”

He stiffens upon hearing his name.

“How do you know my name?”

You suddenly feel nauseous. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Xavier pulls the car over, you open the door and fall to your knees. Vomit spraying out of your mouth before you even hit the ground.

Your arms clenching your stomach. As you throw up again. You hear the crunching sounds of footsteps coming towards you.

Xavier crouches down next to you and holds your hair back as you continue to throw up.

You spend the next few minutes breathing heavy trying to will the nausea to subside. You use the back of your hand to wipe your mouth.

“I can’t go to Linkon City..” your voice hoarse. Throat burning.

“You need to take me back.”

Xavier looks stunned at your request. He doesn’t understand why. He saw you at the compound looking miserable. Which is why he sent the bunny to you. Furthermore, he rescued you when those thugs broke into the safe house and attacked you. Why would you want to stay in the N109 Zone?

“You know it’s not safe in the N109 Zone.”

Plus, it was Xavier’s mission to collect you and bring you to his Captain for questioning about the wormhole.

“Let’s get back in the car-”

“I don’t want to go to Linkon City!”

You pull away from Xavier’s grasp. His blue eyes on yours, trying to understand you.

“We can’t stay out in the open like this. Let’s at least get to a building and hold up there?”

“You promise you won’t take me to Linkon??” Your voice was trembling.

Xavier holds his pinky up to you, “I promise I won’t take you to Linkon tonight.”

Such a sweet innocent gesture. You bring your pinky to his and they grasp each other.

“Alright let’s go.” Xavier gently grabs your arm and helps you to your feet. His fingers lingering on your forearm.

He helps you back into the car and shuts the door for you. Once he’s back in the driver seat he takes off looking for somewhere for you two to stay.

He found a small motel, it was nothing fancy. Unlike all the places you’ve stayed in with Sylus. But it will do.

Xavier pulls the car over just around the corner of the motel, keeping his car off the main road.

“Come on, let’s go.”

You both head into the main office where the motel owner sits behind a desk, chewing her gum and scrolling through her phone.

Xavier walks up to the desk.

“Two rooms.”

The lady still not taking her eyes off her phone.

“All the cabins are ensuites.” She blows a bubble until it pops.

“Okay, two singles then.”

“There’s only a queen left.” She finally looks up and she’s completely un bothered by your appearance. In fact she even smiles. As if she sees people covered in blood all the time here.

“Okay, that’ll do.” Xavier hands her some coins. She reaches behind her and grabs a set of keys off a hook. A tag with the number 3 hangs off it.

“The hot water has been cut off.” She says before you and Xavier leave her office to find your cabin.

The cabins were very old, paint peeling off the outside walls, moss growing up the sides, windows were cracking.

Xavier found cabin 3 and unlocked it. The door squeaked as he opened it. After taking a quick glance he looks at you with a small smile. He stepped aside and let you walk in first. To your relief the inside was a lot nicer than the outside.

You’re instantly greeted by a queen bed, there’s a tv on the wall in front of the bed, underneath the tv are a couple of cabinets. As you walk a bit further in there’s a tiny kitchenette, a kettle and a microwave sit on a bench.

And just off to the side there’s a door which leads to the bathroom. There was only a tub in the bathroom, no shower. A toilet and a tiny vanity, with a small sink.

Xavier starts looking through the cabinets.

“There should be a public laundry around here.” He mumbles while searching through the drawers.

“Aha.” He pulls out a robe.

“Something to wear. I can wash your clothes for you while you take a bath. I have a lot of experience getting blood out of clothes.” He offered.

You hug your body. Contemplating his offer. He was being so kind and you two barely know each other.

“Okay.” You whisper.

You accept the robe from his hands and go into the bath room to strip out of your soiled clothes.

You open the door a tiny bit, hiding your body behind it. Xavier has his hands out ready, you give him your bunched up clothes. He holds your gaze for a moment.

“Take your time, I might be a while.” He smiles again, his bright blue eyes looking at you so tenderly. You swear you almost feel your heart flutter.

You just nod at him and close the door.

After you hear him leave the cabin you wrap a towel around your body and go to the kitchen to grab the kettle and bring it back with you to the bathroom.

Lucky for you there was a power point in the bathroom. It took you a while to fill the tub up because you had to wait for the kettle to boil a few times just to get some hot water in there.

By the time you were done the water wasn’t even lukewarm but this would have to do. At least it wasn’t freezing cold.

You get in the tub and try to relax your muscles and think of a way to get back to Sylus or at least let him know that you were alive.

Maybe the motel owner? She was completely unphased by all the blood so maybe she might have a connection to a few criminals that could spread the word. It was a risk but you know Sylus always hears the chatter amongst the criminals of the N109 Zone.

How would you do this without Xavier finding out though? Your brow furrows. There’s gotta be a code or something you can use. You rest your head against the tub and sigh. What a nightmare.

You don’t know how long you were in the tub before finally hopping out.

Once you dried yourself you put on the robe. You tried to wrap it as tight around you as possible but the front was just so loose, your cleavage was showing. You blush at yourself not wanting to be around Xavier like this… but now you’ve got no other choice while you wait for your clothes to be cleaned.

You open the door and Xavier is sitting on the end of the bed, remote in hand as he flicks through the channels on the TV. Trying to find a channel that actually works.

He glances over his shoulder when he hears the bathroom door open.

“Your clothes are just in the dryer now. I’ve set a timer on my watch.”

“Thank you.”

You sit down near the head of the bed, trying to keep as much distance between you and Xavier as possible in this tiny cabin.

“So you still haven’t told me how you know my name.” Xavier’s back still facing you, he’s still trying to find a channel that’s not just static and white noise.

“It’s a long weird story.”

“We’ve got all night now.”

You sit and think to yourself. Should you tell him? He was trying to take you back to Linkon for a reason and you have no idea what they want from you.

“I..I can’t.”

Xavier stands up and approaches you. Something different about his demeanour. He looks so much taller in real life.

“I take care to remain a mystery while I’m in the N109 Zone. And you, who was the thing that came out of a wormhole here knows my name. You also left protocores at the wormhole site…something only wanderers leave behind…” he leans down till his face is right in front yours. “But you’re not a wanderer..” his brow furrowed as he tried to read your face.

“I don’t know why..” is all you could muster. He was actually quite intimidating right now and you feel yourself getting choked up.

He tilts his head. “Not good enough.”

“I really don’t know! Please, I don’t know how I got here or why!” Panic starting to flood through your nervous system as you remember how Sylus first questioned your sudden appearance. You can practically feel the black tendril down your throat again.

You didn’t even realise you were choking.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you!” Xavier’s hand grabs your shoulder, trying to soothe you.

“Breathe, just breathe.” His voice soft again.

But it wasn’t working, tears were starting to spill down your face as you relive the memory. You don’t know why your body was reacting like this, especially since things were starting to go great with Sylus.

Xavier grabs your hand and places your palm against his chest.

“Hey, focus on me. Focus on my heart beat. Not what’s in your mind.”

After a few gasps, you feel it. His slow heart beat underneath your palm. The sensations starting to ground you back to reality. The feel of his clothes, his breath on your face.

After what felt like an eternity of trying to steady your breathing you tilt your head up to look at Xavier. Eyes glossy, tear stained cheeks.

Concern and pity decorating his face. He pulls you in for a hug, your hand still on his chest.

“You poor thing.. what did they do to you?”

~

A shrill ear piercing scream fills the room.

“Please! We don’t know where she is!!” The man begs, he was suspended in the air a black tendril around his neck, four more pulling on all his limbs, stretching him. His shoulder already dislocated but the tendrils keep pulling.

“Our men were supposed to grab her! But somebody cut them down!” Snot and tears spilling out of his face.

“Please I don’t know anything else!” He begs.

Sylus steps out of the darkness, hands in his pockets, his right eye glowing.

“All you’ve told me is what I already know.” Sylus’ voice was deep and menacing.

The man starts screaming again as Sylus reads his mind. Images of a mysterious woman appear in the man’s head. They’re making a deal. She gives the man a bag of rare jewels as an early payment.

“Hmph. Old school tricks.”

Sylus flicks his wrist and the tendrils give one final pull. Ripping the man’s limbs and head from his body, his blood curdling scream being heard from miles away. Blood splatters everywhere, redecorating the floors and walls.

Mephisto appears in a cloud of black mist and feathers and lands on his shoulder. Sylus was able to fix and heal him which led Sylus to these thugs that tried to kidnap you.

Mephisto was also able to tell Sylus that the hunter they were trying to evade is the one that cut down all those men and saved you.

But now there’s another piece to add to the puzzle. This mysterious woman.

Sylus knows everybody in the N109 Zone but not her. And she just declared war.

~

You open your eyes and you’re laying in bed. Not sure when you had fallen asleep, you just remember being in Xavier’s arms. Letting him comfort you.

You look around the room and see that he’s gone. Your clothes folded neatly on the end of the bed.

Is this your chance? You sit up, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Slipping back into your clothes, he really did manage to get the blood out. You glance around the cabin one more time just to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, still no sign of Xavier.

Your fingertips reach the door knob, opportunity within your grasp.

“Going somewhere?”

You turn around, Xavier was standing in the doorway to the bathroom. His hair wet and he’s wearing the other robe, his chest and torso exposed, revealing his abs. You have to stop yourself from checking him out.

“Just want to get some fresh air.”

“You should know better than anyone that you can’t ’get fresh air’ in the N109 Zone.”

He walks around the bed and stops just in front of you. Your eyes follow a droplet of water slowly making its way down his neck.

He smirks a little. “You should go back to bed.” He whispers

You tilt your head up and see his beautiful blue eyes eyeing you up and down.

“I can’t get on the bed if you’re blocking the way..” you whisper.

Xavier’s eye linger on you for a moment, you notice a slight tinge of pink in his cheeks before he steps aside. He gets on the side of the bed closest to the door. Sitting up against the headboard.

“Try to get as much rest as possible.”

Damn it. You make your way to the other side of the bed and lie down on your side, facing away from Xavier.

“You’re gonna sleep in your clothes?”

Your face flushes. “What about you? You gonna sleep sitting up?” You keep your back to him.

“Heh, with you being a flight risk I doubt I’ll sleep much tonight.”

You see a golden light cast on the wall, all of a sudden a gold bunny starts hopping in front you. It lands on your pillow and starts wiggling its ears at you.

“Something to help give you sweet dreams.” Xavier says softly.

Your heart beat quickens at the kind gesture. Why was he being so sweet to you? He obviously has ulterior motives?

Right?

It had felt like you had only just gotten to sleep before Xavier was standing over you gently shaking you awake. He had a finger on his lips signalling you to be quiet. He was dressed in his hunters uniform again.

There were voices outside, male voices. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying but Xavier motioned for you to get out of bed. His hand gently on your forearm.

“We have to get out of here.” His whisper barely audible. You can see the serious look on his face and just nod your head to show him you understand.

You both head to the bathroom, he locks the door behind you and goes straight to the bathroom window.

“We’re gonna have to be quick. I’m going to break this window and they’ll probably come in here when I do.”

Xavier still hasn’t let you go.

“I’ll help you out the window okay?”

You nod again.

“Okay. 3. 2. 1.”

He used the hilt of his sword to smash the window. Xavier is fast to lift you up by the hips to the window sill. You can hear the men starting to shout now as they break down the front door.

A bit of panic surges through you as you pull yourself out and through the window. You jump down and are actually surprised you land on your feet and you look up. Waiting for Xavier.

He jumps down and immediately grabs your hand and breaks out into a run.

The men shouting behind you as they realise you two have escaped.

You keep running into the perpetual darkness, hand in hand.

“Xav…Xavier please stop.” You wheeze. Your legs are aching, lungs burning you feel like you’re about to collapse.

You don’t know how long you two have been running for but whoever was after you is long gone now.

Xavier stops to let you catch your breath. His was noticeably faster too but he was more composed that’s for sure.

“Who.. were they..?” You ask still breathing heavily.

“Most likely the same mob that ambushed you at the house.” Xavier is looking around, trying to find anywhere for you two to lay low for a bit.

“Why is everyone suddenly after me now? I’ve been here for months.” You stand up straight and take a deep breath in.

Xavier doesn’t answer your question. “We need to keep moving.”

Suddenly there’s a chill in the air, goose bumps appear on the back of your neck. You got an incredibly sick feeling in your gut. Something was coming.

You look around trying to see what was out there but you could hardly see through the nights darkness.

A slight breeze kicks up and carries an echo of mixed voices.

“X-Xavier?” You turn back to look at him but he was gone.

“Xavier?”

The echos were getting louder, the air getting colder. Your heart beat getting faster. Fear was washing over you.

Your surroundings were starting to warp. The trees, the rocks, the ground beneath your feet.

“What is this?”

You hear a deep laughter surround you.

“Silly girl.”

“W-who’s there??”

You turn around on the spot. No body was there. Every fibre in your body starts telling you to run and you do. You didn’t even care which direction you were headed in you just needed to run!

The voices still following you, getting louder.

“Leave me alone!” Your hands covering your ears as you run but it was no use.

You trip over a rock and try to scramble to your feet.

“Sweetie?”

You stop and look up.

“Sylus??”

Sylus steps towards you but there was something wrong.

“Look at you…so fucking pathetic.”

Tears spring to your eyes.

“Why are you saying this Sylus?”

Sylus steps closer and that’s when you notice it. His eyes were black! An evil grin spread across Sylus’ face.

“Ugly!”

“Y-you’re not real!”

Another Sylus with black eyes appears.

“You disgust me, stupid whore!”

“No, no, no.” Tears prick your eyes. What was happening? Where was Xavier?!

More and more Sylus figures popped up surrounding you.

“You want to fuck the hunter don’t you?”

“Disgusting slut!”

“Whore!”

“Pathetic!”

“Please stop!” You beg, you’re on your knees, tears streaming down your face. Hands over your ears. Everything feels like it’s spinning.

“I should’ve killed you when I first saw you!”

“Disgusting!”

“Pathetic!”

“Slut!”

You start to sob. “PLEASE STOP!”

“You sicken me!”

“Xavier!” You cry out, you squeeze your eyes shut and start rocking. “Please help me!”

All the Sylus figures converge into one and it starts to grow and disfigure.

“You’re so damn pathetic. You disgust me.” The disfigured Sylus finishes transforming to reveal its true self.

A Herte Knave wanderer.

You’re paralysed with fear as you watch the Herte Knave stalk closer to you.

“Xavier!” You cry out.

The Herte Knave raises its blade and lunges at you.

You close your eyes but a bright light appears and you hear the clink of a sword.

Xavier blocks the wanderers attack and starts fighting it. Every swing of his sword shot out a ray of light.

The wanderers movements were getting slow Xavier pulls his sword back and runs at the Herte Knave and plunges his sword into its chest.

The wanderer dissipates, leaving behind a protocore which Xavier crushes in his hand.

He turns back to you and crouches down in front of you. His hand on your back.

“Are you okay?” His voice tender.

You look up at him, the tears still falling down your cheeks. Fear still in your eyes.

“Xavier.” You sob.

Your eyes never leaving each other. His hand still on your back comforting you. You don’t know why, whether it be the adrenaline, the fear, or just needing something else to ground you.

But you lean forward and kiss Xavier.

To your surprise…he kisses you back.

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

[bookskiver]

Tmr characters going trick or treating together (HAPPY HALLOWEEN):

(This one's been chilling in my drafts waiting for spooky day so here we go)

Let's start with the obvious, thomas and newt ARE DOING matching costumes.

Tbh I think they'd do something very basic, theyd get white sheets cut holes out and be ghosts but they'd wear some colourful fluffy socks and pull them up and wear blackout sunglasses over the sheets

And if minho wanted to do a trio they'd do alvin and the chipmunks (minho as alvin, thomas as simon and newt as Theodore (in my humble opinion))

If not, then I feel minho and brenda would go as those two from Subway surfers, tricky and jake, bc they both thought it was cool (they would both bring real spray paint cans and may or may not dabble in some vandalism, but shhhh)

Gally (being gally) didn't want to go, but when he saw everyone getting excited, he felt left out

"FIIIINEEEE if you insist, I'll come with you all"

"We didn't say anyt-"

"NONO it's fine, too late to apologise, I'm going now"

He would either just wear all black clothes and a scary mask (one of those light up purge ones probs) OR, he would still wear all black but put a police cap on and be the policeman from subway surfers to go with minho and brenda

If the girls did a group costume they would be the victorious girls (teresa as tori sonya as cat brenda as trina and Harriet as jade YES PLEASE!!!!!) (I would say they could do that one improv episode with the sleepover at sikowitz's but trina isn't in it 😔)

Alby would be there to babysit these CHILDREN

He would be the angry dad tapping his foot at the end of the driveway waiting for them to get their sweets

He's the one chasing down minho and brenda if they use their spray paint

Give my guy alby a break 😭😭😭

I can picture teresa as coraline, cute outfit she's wearing the blue wig yellow raincoat and everything

No one goes as a character from coraline with her but she's chill slaying alone. She stays back chatting to alby, trying to calm the poor man down from sprinting after gally because he jumpscared a group of children.

CHUCK GOES AS A CREEPER

He wears full green and paints a box to put over his head. Thinks it's really cool until SOMEBODY (gally) starts repeatedly smacking the top of his box

(Gally has been smacked in the back of the head by alby so many times he may have a bald spot at this point)

Harriet and sonya go as jake and finn from adventure time (sonya as finn harriet as jake) or if aris wants to go (I feel like he wouldn't care for Halloween but sonya bribed him with the promise of sweets) they'd go as kenny Stan and kyle from south park. They'd go as this is because aris DEFINITELY has that big orange coat kenny wears and you cant tell me he doesnt bc he does (he goes as kenny Harriet as stan and sonya as kyle)

Fypan (wanting to make chuck feel better) goes as a minecraft zombie with a box on his head (live laugh frypan 🥹🫶)

And if they did a whole group costume they'd go as SIMS!!! They'd print out print out those plumbob crystals and glue them to headbands. They'd all be green accept for gally who was given a red one and alby who's red plumbob was very much forced upon him

And yes, they do walk around talking simlish :)

(This was so all over the place im so sorry i had alot to say 😭) HOPE YOU ENJOYED HAPPY HALLOWEEN MY LOVELYS <33333