#we have new evidence guys i can’t believe it

[rosykanaya]

the fire is reignited… we are so back

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Haunted Manor

Nightwing: And meet Tim, our main brain cell. He works on pure rage and caffeine but often gets too carried away and forgets to sleep. Phantom: Well, for a ghost his age it’s okay to focus on the obsession of his core. He’ll grow out of it. "Ghost?" Tim takes eyes off screen and tries to find his pulse."Uh-oh…" Phantom: You…didn’t notice that you died? Red Robin: Well, I sometimes lose consciousness at work. Maybe I just didn’t notice that at one of these times side effects were more permanent. But in recent months, there have been so many difficult cases to investigate, and Bruce was lost and I had to find evidence that he was alive and … Red Hood: What the hell, Timmy?! I thought cameraman never dies. Signal *in horror*: What should we tell Alfred? Tim *drinks more coffee*: Yeah, that's a problem. Damian: What are you doing? Stop drinking this sh- drink and go to bed. Your routine literally killed you. Red Robin: Come on. Obviously, I can’t get any worse from an overdose. But wait, wait..does it mean that now I have an ability to work non-stop 'cause I'm ghost? Ha! No RIP for me, I’m entering a whole new level of productivity, guys, hear me out.. ~~~~ Nightwing is silent. If Tim died at the time he was looking for Bruce, and it was Dick who didn’t believe him that Batman was still alive, does that mean it was all his fault?

[starsinthesky5]

blondes do it better || joe burrow x reader

description: a little morning moment before the first day of training camp 

a/n: look at me writing a bleach buzz joe fic LMAO. this is a little something i wrote for you all (very unplanned) inspired by today’s content and with some help from my anons and @joeys-babe! enjoy!

word count: 3.9k

warnings: language, smut (a little BJ moment, nothing crazy)

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

July 24th, 2024

Sunlight slowly peeked through the curtains of your bedroom as you looked over at the alarm clock, the time reading 5:30 AM. Normally, you wouldn’t be up this early in the morning but considering today was the first day of Bengals Training Camp, you wanted to squeeze in some 1 on 1 time with Joe before he had to get up and leave. His alarm would go off in about half an hour, so you were determined to get in all your cuddles and kisses that you’d miss the entire day. It was amazing having Joe around more this first half of the year, even though the reason for it wasn’t particularly good. 

You both made the most of the extended time you had together with various trips and vacations (joe finally getting a proper tan this year because of how much sun you both had been absorbing) and joining Joe on his new ventures such as Paris Fashion Week & speaking at events in Cannes, but now you both were ready for things to go back to normal. It was a nice few months of taking it easy and enjoying life a little more but normal for you both was football. It had been your normal since high school and you missed it. 

You looked over at Joe, watching his steady breathing and listening to his soft snores for a few moments before he started to move around; his natural body clock probably began waking him up before his alarm as usual. 

You moved your covers down and gently moved on top of Joe, placing one leg on either side of his hips as you moved your hair out of your face. You leaned down and started pressing lazy kisses along his jawline before you felt two hands grab your waist and pull you back up. 

“My favorite way of being woken up,” he said, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Morning, Quarterback,” you said as you rubbed the skin under his eyes.

“Morning, Y/N,” he mumbled, his sleepiness evident by his tone. “Any particular reason why you woke me up half an hour before my alarm?” he said, his eyebrow shooting up out of suspicion.

“Well, today’s the first day of camp and I won’t really get to see you a lot these next few days since you’re going to be locked in,” you said, your smile dropping. “I just wanted some ‘us’ time before you left,”.’

“Aw, is someone going to miss me,” Joe teased as he ran his hands up and down your sides.

Joe was expecting you to reply with some witty response, but all he got from you was silence and the image of your eyes getting glossy. 

“Hey, Hey. I’m just joking,” he said as his tone switched to concern.

“No, I know,” you said as you dropped your shoulders. “I don’t know why I’m being a baby about this since I practically shoved you out the door on the first day of OTA’s,” you laughed, your smile coming back at the memory. 

“OTA’s were the tip of the iceberg to be fair. Training Camp, then Pre-Season, and before you know it you’re out on the field week 1,” he sighed. “Really gotta focus now,”.

“It all happens so fast,” you nodded. “But that’s good since we thrive when there’s football consistently in our lives,”.

“Are you excited though?” you asked as you rubbed his chest with your palms.

“Absolutely. I feel really good and I can’t wait to see how it translates to the field. And I’m really looking forward to working with the younger guys,” he said.

“I just know they’re going to be so excited to get out there with you. You’ve always made everyone feel welcomed and seen, even in high school you did the same,” you smiled. 

Joe bit his lip and said, “I still can’t believe you’re not sick of this life. I mean you’ve been a football player’s girlfriend since high school and have dealt with so much shit over the years,”.

“I have no idea how or why you do it,” he said as he shook his head. Joe knew how much his life affected yours and he oftentimes felt bad with how much stuff you’ve had to deal with since you were teenagers. Even though he physically couldn’t live without you, he sometimes thought that you’d be better off without him for your own sake as your life would be drama-free with him out of the picture. 

Since you and Joe had been together since High School, you had quite literally been a part of his football journey since Day 1. As his popularity increased once he came into the NFL, the amount of things you dealt with increased too. Before the only football-related concerns you had were if Joe had eaten something after practice, did his homework, or studied for his tests so that he wouldn’t fall behind in school, and that your Friday nights were cleared so you could sit in the bleachers and watch him play. 

Now your football-related concerns were making sure Joe wasn’t pushing himself too hard at the risk of injury, making sure that he wasn’t hurt (even a bruise or bump) after a game, dealing with a plethora of comments and negativity about Joe (sometimes even yourself), and making sure that everything was good at home since that was the only place he could relax. It was a lot for you to deal with, mentally and physically, and sometimes you even wondered if it was all worth it. Football life was like a rollercoaster, really high moments that made everything so much more exciting and really low moments that made you feel like you hit a brick wall.

But when you looked at Joe, you remembered why you did it and what all this was truly worth. It was worth it because you had the best possible person by your side and you two had built a life together which was a little chaotic, but incredibly fulfilling and filled with a kind of love you couldn’t put into words. You wouldn’t trade anything for this, no matter how rough it got. You’d never give this up. 

“You,” you smiled. “You’re the reason I do it. Because you are the single most important person in my life and I love you,” you add as you lean down to kiss him, his hand sliding up to cup your cheek as he melts against your soft lips. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he grinned as he pulled away from your lips. 

“And you won’t have to know since I’m not going anywhere,” you smiled as you moved your left hand to his view, showing off the very beautiful and very new engagement ring he put on your ring finger. 

“I love you,” he said as he pecked your lips a few times. 

You smiled against his lips before coming back up, one of his hands settling on your hips again while the other moved to the top of his head, a laugh escaping your lips as you watched him attempt to run his fingers through his hair.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked with a little laugh.

“Your hair,” you laughed, this time even harder as you had a funny thought pop up in your head. “I still cannot believe you did that,”.

Flashback to a few days ago 

You were lounging on the couch, scrolling through your favorite shopping app as you were doing some retail therapy to brighten your mood after having an awful migraine earlier, and were waiting for Joe to get home after his routine hair trim. 

You heard the garage door open, not bothering to turn around since you knew it was Joe. You listened to him move around the kitchen, probably trying to see what was for dinner before you heard his footsteps getting closer to the couch.

You put your iPad to the side, closed your eyes, and tilted your head up, anticipating a kiss from Joe.

“Hey,” he said, bending over against the back of the couch to kiss you.

“Hi,” you smiled, your eyes still closed as you were anticipating one more kiss, which you anticipated correctly. You then opened your eyes, expecting to be met with a freshly trimmed Joe, but instead, your eyes widened and your mouth fell open.

“AHH!” you screamed as you jumped off the couch, your blanket flying off your body at your jumbled movement. 

“What?” Joe asked, his eyes widening and feeling incredibly confused.

“Your HAIR,” you screamed as you ran back over to the couch, kneeling on it and grabbing his head. “What the fuck happened to your hair,” you said as you brushed your hands over the spikey buzzcut that was bleached platinum blonde. 

“Surprise,” he laughed as he grabbed your wrists and lowered them. “You like it? I got bored and felt like changing it up,”.

“Changing it up is getting a different kind of fade on the sides or something. Your hair is gone,” you laughed in amusement, your brain not registering the fact that his hair was practically gone and whatever was left was the color of a snowball. “And you didn’t even tell me,” you scoffed. 

“Gotta keep everyone on their toes. Even my beautiful fiancee,” he winked. “Besides, it feels kind of symbolic in a way? Like letting go of everything that happened last season and turning a new page,”. 

“See that’s the reasoning I can get behind, not the ‘I was Bored’ excuse,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“But do you like it?” he asked again.

You looked at him carefully for a few seconds, assessing the new look he had. Well, it wasn’t all new. “I’m getting major deja vu right now from the blonde even though this is a bit more platinum than high school,” recalling his original blonde look during your high school days. 

“Yeah?” he laughed.

“Blondes definitely do it better from what I can recall from our adolescence,” you winked, remembering all those times you’d sneak away with Joe for a quick moment before he had practice or after a game. Even back then you couldn’t contain yourself around each other, just one flash of those signature bedroom eyes and you were both sneaking back to his car. 

“God, do you remember all those times we’d sneak away during practice? I’m surprised we never got caught,” he laughed.

“That blonde hair woke something up inside of me,” you sighed. “I remember coming home after one of the games with a limp and my parents thought I fell or something,” you said as you covered your face with your hands to hide the embarrassment. 

“Damn, we really haven’t changed since high school have we?” he said, biting his lip. 

“Not one bit,” you shook your head. “I do like that you’re channeling some of that Athens luck for this season since you dyed it when we won the district championship. This is def a manifestation tactic,” you said as you cupped his face and turned his head to the side to get a good look at the hair again. 

“Keep talking,” he said as he leaned in more, a sheepish grin on his face. 

“The buzzcut may take a bit of getting used to,” you say as he nods in agreement. 

“The blonde does help make it not look super ‘fresh out of jail-y’ though,” you chuckle as you watch him eagerly waiting for your opinion, an adorable smile on his face as he looks at you with all the love in the world. 

“But, I will say,” you say as you give him a slow once-over, the increased muscle on his body, his tan skin, and now this bleached buzzcut which you were honestly loving, was making him even hotter than he was ever before which you thought was impossible. “You still look as hot as ever and I would still drop to my knees at any given moment,” you said, leaning in even closer so that you were just inches from his lips. 

“Really?” he smirked.

“Mhmmm. Welcome back Slim Shady, I’ve missed you,” you said as you felt Joe reach out and grab you, easily throwing you over his shoulders.

“Joe,” you laughed, not even a single bit surprised since he manhandled you like this quite often. “Put me downnnn,”.

“Nope,” he said as he walked over to the stairs leading upstairs. “We gotta make sure that blondes still do it better. The last time I was blonde was over 5 years ago,” he said as he patted your ass.

“And what if they don’t?” you grin. “You gonna wash it out?”.

“Hmm, I think I’ll try Orange hair if that’s the case,” he joked while he walked up the stairs with you hanging off his shoulder. “It fits the team aesthetic too and gingers are known to be wild and crazy. One can only imagine how that translates to the bedroom”. 

Your mouth fell open, “Um, absolutely not!” you yelled as he walked into the bedroom, his laughter filling the room as you went on about how you forbid him from doing anything else to his hair as it was sad enough that you couldn’t pull on the strands or twirl your fingers through them during the activity that was about to happen once he laid you down on the bed. 

End of Flashback 

“You look like an egg,” you added as you continued to laugh at him, his smile turning into a grimace. 

“An egg? Wow,” he scoffed as he pretended to be offended by the comment.

“A very hot, sexy, delicious egg,” you said as you leaned down again and started pressing kisses to his neck, his frown slowly turning back into a smile as you showered him with kisses, unknowingly grinding against his crotch while you were at it and you didn’t notice until you felt him grip your waist tighter and a hardness prodding underneath you.

You immediately pulled away, trying to prevent that from happening because you knew that today was a big day for him and this was not the way to start it off. 

“Y/N, come on,” he sighed. “A quickie won’t hurt,”.

“Absolutely not. It’s the first day of camp, I can’t send you out there already tired and slightly worked out,” you said as you crossed your arms. 

“Please,” he pleaded with that adorable pout that always made you cave. “You can be on top,”.

“Nope,” you shook your head. “You always say that I can do all the work but you end up doing most of it anyway,”.

“I won’t this time, I swear,” he blinked. 

You bit your lip as you thought about it for a few moments. You felt bad about leaving him hanging but you also didn’t want to make him use his energy on this when he could be using it on the field. 

You took a deep breath and said, “Okay, we can compromise,”. 

“I’m listening,” he said as he moved his hands to your thighs.

“I’ll give you some super sloppy world-class head and then we can finish this after practice if you’re not too tired,” you offered. 

He stared into your beautiful eyes for a few seconds before smiling, “Deal,”.

You immediately leaned down and captured his lips in a messy kiss before moving down his body, kissing his chest through his t-shirt as you got a glimpse of the clock, noticing that you didn’t have a lot of time before his alarm went off.

“Shit, gotta make this quick,” you mumbled as you moved further down his body.

You quickly pulled his shorts down and then his boxers, allowing his erect cock to spring out, precum pooling at the tip. You grabbed his erection, giving him a few pumps before sliding your tongue down the side, Joe’s hips jerking at the contact. 

“Settle down,” you softly reminded him as you looked up.

Your lips parted around his cock as you slowly twirled your tongue around the tip, moving down the length of his shaft inch by inch. You heard Joe groan before feeling his hand on the back of your head, his fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he struggled to hold in his moans.

“F-Fuck,” he moaned as you slid all the way down, his tip hitting the back of your throat which made you shudder. 

You then released him from your mouth, pumping his cock a few more times before leaning down again, sucking and licking your way down his shaft. You began to bob your head up and down his length, sounds of pleasure leaving his lips as you started to send him to heaven. 

“Jesus, Baby, You feel so good,” he groaned as he gently pushed your head further down. You wrapped one of your hands around him, jerking him off with your hand as you continued to suck him off, your eyes watering at the pressure you were feeling but also the pleasure. 

You looked up at him, making direct eye contact as you continued to suck him off which you knew drove him crazy. You watched as he threw his head back against the pillow as a result of your fingers gently playing with his balls, his grip on your hair getting tighter as the sounds coming from his lips got louder. You could tell that he was inching closer to his release by the way his cock was twitching in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he moaned as he jerked his hips again, which made you stop. 

“Baby, please,” he panted as he watched you come back up.

“Stop moving your hips so much,” you laughed you went back to pumping his cock with your hand, once again leaning down and twirling your tongue around the head before taking him in your mouth, this time setting a hungry pace as you knew he was close. Your manicured nails dug into his thighs as you tried to keep yourself together, the feeling of him hitting the back of your throat sending you to the point of tears. 

A few moments later, you felt him twitch inside your mouth again, this time feeling hot spurts of his cum fill your mouth as you slowed down your movements, whimpers and moans leaving Joe’s lips as you looked up and watched his heaving chest, and closed eyes. 

“Y/N..” he whispered. 

You released him from your mouth, swallowing every last bit of his cum and lapping at his dick to make sure you did, before moving off of him and pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You wiped your chin and mouth with the back of your hand before lying back down next to him, pressing a few gentle kisses to his cheek as he came down from his high. 

“Better now?” you asked him when he turned his head to meet your eyes.

“You’re the best,” he said, giving you a lazy smile. “I feel bad for leaving you hanging though,”.

“It’s okay,” you sighed. “I can have some solo fun with the shower head when you’re gone,” you teased, his mouth dropping at the words you just said.

“Kiddinggg,” you laughed as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck. “I’ll wait for you to come back; if you’re not too tired obviously,”.

He moved his hand to the back of your head, playing with your hair before gently sliding it down to your neck as he pressed a few kisses to your forehead. “I’ll make sure to save some energy for you,”.

“Thanks, Slim Shiesty,” you teased.

“W- What did you just call me?” Joe asked as he pulled your head from his neck.

“Slim Shiesty,” you smiled. “It’s only fitting after you did this,” you chuckled as you rubbed the top of his blonde head.

“I forgot how many Eminem references I’ll be getting from now on,” he whined.

“I cannot wait to see the internet write think pieces about your new hair,” you giggled.

“God, and I forgot that I owe the entire world an explanation for every move I make,” he groaned. 

“Just tell them what you told me,” you smiled. “You needed a fresh start and you got bored,”.

“They’re still going to be writing think pieces even if I say that,” he said, pursing his lips. 

“You’re right,” you agreed. “Then tell them you did it because your fiancee said blondes do it better and that you wanted to please me,” you joked. 

“You know, I just might,” he laughed. 

“This time I won’t even mind getting hate comments from some of your fans. Blonde Buzz Burrow is def something else and I’m going to enjoy every single moment I have with him even if some girls on the internet say they hate it,” you said before you leaned in for another kiss. 

“The only opinion I care about is yours,” he said before pecking your soft lips again. 

“And I love it, even if you sometimes look like an egg or a snowball,” you teased. “You’re still the same panty-dropping, sex-on-legs, gorgeous man that I fell in love with when I was 16,”. 

“I love you,” he grinned again before closing in on your lips for another kiss, his hand cupping your jaw as you threw your leg over his and moved closer to him, only for the sound of his alarm to interrupt you both.

He pulled away and turned it off, a sigh leaving his lips as he knew he had to get up. “As much as I’d love to keep this going..”.

“I know, I know. Football time,” you grinned as you sat up, Joe doing the same while he rubbed his eyes. “Before you get up to shower, I wanted to tell you something,” you said to him, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers.

“What?” he asked you. 

“I wanted to tell you that I am so beyond proud of how far you’ve come since last November. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy and definitely wasn’t going to be enjoyable, but you really pushed through even though everything was stacked against you. Not many people are capable of doing all of this while the entire world is practically screaming ‘you suck and are overrated’ in their faces and the fact that you recovered from the wrist injury so well and are on track to coming out the other side better than how you went in is insane. And the fact that while recovering you did all this new stuff like fashion week which you'd never thought you'd ever do before is crazy and you killed that too even though it's not your thing. You truly are one of a kind,” you said to him. "Oh my god, and this," you said as you picked up your left hand and motioned at the ring. "You knew that I didn't care when this happened but the fact that you did this whole thing at the same time while dealing with all this shit should be enough to hand you the MVP award,".

“You always kill anything and everything you put your mind to. Whether it be football, your career outside of football, or our relationship, you always do so good at everything. I can’t wait to see you tear it up out there and start the next chapter of your story,” you added. 

Joe’s heart fluttered at your feelings; a big part of why he was able to push through was you. You were like a storm shelter for him in the hurricane that was his life. You kept him comfortable, and safe from his own negative thoughts and made sure that he didn’t drown. 

He pulls you in for a hug, stuffing his face in your neck as you can feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything on this earth,” he said in your ear. “Thank you for sticking by my side,”.

“I love you too, forever and always,” you said as held onto him for a few heartbeats, not wanting to let go, but eventually doing so since he couldn’t be late. 

“Now, go knock ‘em dead and give them something to talk about Slim Shiesty,” you smiled as you pulled away.

“You got it,” he kissed your cheek and got up from the bed, a bounce in his step as he walked into the bathroom. 

“Blondes may do it better, but he does everything better regardless,” you smile to yourself. 

–The End–

[vampireimiko]

i loved your most recent steve work! i was wondering if i could request an eddie work similar to that where the hellfire club just doesn’t believe that he could have a gf

Full of Surprises

warnings, none! note, this was fun to write !! also i didn't include the whole hellfire club i didn't feel like writing the extras in💔

"Eddie, you expecting a call or something? You keep staring at the phone like a maniac." Mike pointed out.

"You noticed too?! I didn't wanna say anything but holy shit, every few seconds he stares at it." Dustin agrees.

Eddie rolled his eyes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Yeah I'm uh, just waiting on my girlfriend to call." he muttered, his tone nonchalant, but the room instantly fell into a stunned silence.

Mike’s eyes widened. “Girlfriend?”

Dustin snorted, crossing his arms. “Sure, Eddie. And I’m dating Madonna.”

Eddie shot them both an annoyed glance. “I’m serious.”

The skepticism in the air was palpable. Lucas raised an eyebrow from across the room, tossing a pencil onto the table. “Eddie Munson... with a girlfriend? That’s rich.”

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie asked, defensively, leaning forward.

Dustin shrugged, an innocent grin on his face. "C'mon, man. If you had a girlfriend, we would’ve heard about it by now."

"And met her," Lucas added.

Eddie groaned, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Not everything revolves around you guys, y’know. Some relationships are private."

Dustin, Lucas, and Mike exchanged skeptical glances before bursting into laughter. "Yeah, right! What, does she go to another school or something?" Mike teased.

"Yeah there's no way in hell Eddie Munson gets bitches." Dustin laughed.

"Well news flash, Dusty boy! I do infact gets bitches. Not that my girlfriends a bitch or anything." He said adding that last part very quickly. Even though you weren't there, he'd never disrespect you like that or in any way for that matter.

Dustin raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Okay, okay, so you get bitches. Prove it."

"Yeah, let’s see some evidence," Lucas added with a smirk. "I mean, it’s kinda hard to believe when we’ve never even seen her. Is she invisible or something?"

Eddie huffed, tapping his fingers on the table, clearly annoyed but trying to keep his cool. "She’s not some trophy I need to parade around, alright? She’s busy. She’s got... a job! School stuff too."

"Uh-huh, and I’m guessing she also lives in Canada and only writes letters?" Mike quipped, earning a round of chuckles from the others.

Eddie sighed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. "Fine! You wanna meet her so bad? She’ll come by Hellfire next week."

Dustin raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Oh, really? Can’t wait."

"Yeah yeah, I'll believe it when I see it. Now enough about his imaginary girlfriend, I'm hungry." Mike interrupted.

The next week couldn’t have come fast enough for the Hellfire boys. The anticipation was thick in the air as they sat around the table, pretending to focus on the campaign, but their eyes constantly darted to the door. Even Eddie, who usually basked in his Dungeon Master role with enthusiasm, seemed a little distracted, checking his watch more than usual.

Dustin nudged Lucas under the table. “You think he’s actually gonna pull through? Or are we about to witness the most embarrassing bluff in Hellfire history?”

Lucas smirked. “I dunno, man. He’s been pretty confident. It’s either the truth, or he’s about to go down in flames.”

The whole week leading up to this very moment, Eddie talked about you to the guys. They obviously did not believe him one bit. Eddie had told them about some of your hobbies, favorite movies, he was even close to telling them where you worked but quickly decided against that.

They always asked him to just give out your name, but then they'd know who you were obviously. Eddie wanted to keep a little bit of mystery surrounding your identity. News flash, you were a quite known person at Hawkins High.

"Can't wait to see him squirm either way," Mike added with a grin.

Eddie, sensing their whispers, glared across the table. “You know, you guys are real supportive friends.”

“We’re just preparing for disappointment, Eddie,” Dustin shot back, hands raised. “Don’t take it personally.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, there was a knock on the door. The room fell silent, and all eyes shot toward the entrance. Eddie’s cocky grin returned as he stood up, walking over to the door with a confidence that even had Dustin second-guessing his skepticism.

He swung the door open, and there she was—you. Dressed casually, you gave Eddie a warm smile before stepping into the room, completely unaware of the stunned expressions plastered across the faces of his friends.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie greeted you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. “Told you I wasn’t making her up.”

The room was deathly quiet, the boys blinking in disbelief as you walked further into the room.

Mike was the first to break the silence. “Holy shit. Y/N Y/LN?

You laughed softly, glancing at Eddie before turning back to the group. “I take it he’s been bragging about me?”

“More like we didn’t believe you existed,” Lucas admitted, still wide-eyed. "Much less did we expect the girlfriend to be you?!"

Dustin was still frozen, mouth hanging open in shock. “Eddie... how?”

Eddie grinned smugly, draping an arm around your shoulders. “Told you, Dustin. I get bitches. Not that I'm calling you a bitch." He quickly clarified, knowing you didn't tolerate any type of getting called out of your name.

You playfully elbowed him in the side. “I know you'd never do anything like that."

Eddie chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Noted.”

"Anyway, nice to meet you guys! I've seen you around and Eddie talks about you guys all the time." You exclaimed cheerfully, extending a hand to the nearest person to you, which happened to be Mike.

Mike, still in shock, shook your hand cautiously, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. “Uh, nice to meet you too…”

Lucas stood up, still blinking. “Okay, I have to ask—how the hell did Eddie Munson land a girlfriend like you?”

You laughed, glancing over at Eddie with a playful smile. “What can I say? He’s full of surprises.”

Eddie grinned proudly, leaning against you. “See? Told you guys. I’m not just some lonely metalhead.”

Dustin finally regained his composure, shaking his head. “This has to be some kind of cosmic glitch. I mean, Y/N Y/LN... and Eddie Munson? Something isn't right."

Lucas nodded in agreement, still processing. “Seriously, I gotta know—what did he say to win you over?”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Well, he didn’t try too hard, if that’s what you’re thinking. Eddie’s actually... kind of sweet once you get past all the theatrics.”

Eddie gave a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you. Theatrics are part of the charm.”

You giggled and gave him a loving look.

Mike snorted. “Yeah, we’re still trying to figure out what charm you’re talking about.”

Eddie shot Mike a look, then turned back to you, clearly soaking in the validation. “See what I deal with?”

You shook your head, laughing. “They’re not so bad, Eddie. Just a little... doubtful.” You glanced at the group, your expression softening.

Dustin nodded. “You’re like, Hawkins royalty compared to... well, Eddie.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving Eddie a curious look. “Royalty, huh?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but you could tell he secretly liked the sound of it. “They exaggerate. A lot.”

You smiled warmly at him. “Well, royalty or not, he’s good to me. And that’s what matters.”

Mike finally cracked a grin. “Alright, alright. Maybe you’re not completely full of shit, Eddie.”

Dustin laughed, pointing a finger. “Still can’t believe it though. You lucked out, Munson.”

Eddie smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Told you, man. I’m full of surprises.”

additional note ! my requests are open if you wanna have me write something<3

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

[staycait]

⊹ 　 ﹒ 　 ❝ 　a losers secret ⠀⊹⠀˚⠀ ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚 ┈ loser!scara x shy!fem!reader ㅤ ✦

𝐈. ──ㅤ youre the good and shy girl of the school, everyone knows you and everyone likes you, you consider everyone a friend, even the loser that sits in the back of the class. but what happens if you, the most well-liked good girl, gets paired up with the most hated loser in school ?

𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ mentions of fingering , overstimulation , cream pie , raw sex , mentions of markings , little bits of degradation 'n praise, reader is very shy and gets nervous easily , reader is inexperienced , reader is innocent , breeding kink , && corruption kink .

𝐈𝐈𝐈. ──ㅤ nsfw , smut , english is not my first language, please forgive me , proofread , fluffy yet suggestive ending .

﹒ thoughts ; hope u guys enjoy this ,, its been months since i was active here and im trying to get back here because ive been starving yall </3 . btw , reqs are open ! feel free to req anything . :) what do we think of new theme tho? it keeps changing 😭 .. and ngl this fic kinda sucks. ☹️☹️ but yeah i hope u guys still like this even if it’s horrible!

> story right under the cut <

SCARAMOUCHE is the typical loner you’d see in your class, black jacket with the hoodie over his head, headphones on, is at the back of the class, and much more. there were rumors that he murdered someone, that he does drugs, and the list goes on. no one likes him—in fact, everyone hates him.. almost everyone hates him.

for your english project, you got paired up with scaramouche. after the teacher announced who would be paired with who, everyone in your class came up to you, telling you how much sympathy they have for you, that how sorry they are for you, and telling you ‘good luck with dealing with him’.

you were confused, what was so bad about scaramouche? sure there were rumors, but if they don’t evidence that they did those stuff, you have no reason to believe in the rumors. you felt so bad for him, he already had no one by his side, and the entire school hates him.

you went up to scaramouche, he immediately notices your presence and looks up at you with an indifferent expression on his face, yet he looked awfully tired.. he took off his headphones and he stared to speak,

“what? here to bully me for having no friends?” you hear him scoff, a frown plays on his lips as he brings his gaze to the floor.

hearing his words made you protest, you would never bully anyone, or even hurt a fly !

“n-no! of course not..” you stammered.

you fiddle with your fingers in nervousness. you always get nervous whenever you talk to new people or when people assume things about you, a slight blush creeps up your cheeks as you think about his words.

the indifference immediately leaves scaramouche’s face once he notices your blushing. he stares at you for a moment before a huge smirk appears on his face.

“ah, so you’re not like all the others?” scaramouche tilts his head back and chuckles.

“huh..?”

you take a seat next to scaramouche’s chair and you bring it closer to him.

“what do you mean by that..?”

“everyone else treats me like i’m sort of monster or freak. you, however, seem different from everyone.”scaramouche leans back in his chair.

“well, you don’t seem like a freak or a monster..”

you were growing increasingly nervous, and as an attempt to calm yourself down, you look down to your lap to hide your nervous and red face and grip the hem of your skirt. you never thought someone would assume you’d bully them— let alone think that you think of them as a freak or a monster!

you can’t help but notice that scaramouche’s eyes trail down to your legs. it’s quite unnerving, and your short skirt doesn’t help much with that either.

as a way to snap out of his thoughts, scaramouche shakes his head and sighs.

“are you just saying that to be nice? what about me isn’t freaky?”

“u-uhm… you seem like a normal person. you look.. um.. cool too..?”

scaramouche looks back at you and raises his eyebrows.

“oh yeah? you think I’m cool?”

you notice him shifting slightly, leaning toward you.

“then, you surely don’t mind me getting closer, right?”

your blush gets heavier the moment you feel scaramouche leaning in closer to you.

“no… not at all.”

scaramouche grins at your response and scoots even closer to you.

“then is it okay if…” he trails off, and his voice gets husky as he leans in. you feel something touch your leg, you look over to see his hand resting on your thigh.

“i suppose so..”

scaramouche’s eyes light up after hearing you agree. you could feel him plant his lips on your neck; a few gentle kisses on your skin.

“how about if i…” scaramouche places a finger along the hem of your short skirt.

a small whimper escapes your lips, you don’t know how to feel about being this close this to someone, you had never been this close or intimate with anyone.

“is it alright for me to… lift your skirt up?”

your eyes widened, you weren’t sure how you’d respond to that, but, if you were going to be honest, scaramouche was making you feel hot down there..

his words made you feel tingly and horny, but his gaze was what was making your panties damp and wet.

“can we.. go to a private room first?”

…who knew it was so easy for you to fall right into scaramouche’s trap?

after successfully making the teacher believe that scaramouche he was taking you to the clinic, he brought you to his dorm, and next, to his bedroom.

SCARAMOUCHE had you on a tight mating press, your clothes on the floor with bits of your orgasm stained onto it. (it got to your clothes because scaramouche had fingered you until you squirted all over the place.)

how could scaramouche have resisted himself? you looked so innocent, and so corruptible, he just had to get his hands on you.

scaramouche groans as he feels your walls clamping down on him for the ‘nth time. it was a sign you were about to have another orgasm, another sign was when your moans get higher-pitched.

the feeling of scaramouche’s cock mercilessly ramming into you was agonizingly pleasurable. you couldn’t think of anything else but him and his cock, your body couldn’t help but just have orgasm after orgasm.

you held tightly onto his shoulders, clinging onto him as if your life had depended on it. scaramouche’s dick was bruising your cervix, fucking you into the mattress, and possibly trying to fuck your brains out.

“does it feel nice being reduced to nothing but a whore?”

scaramouche grabs a handful of your hair, staring at your messy and slutty state. the way you looked so disheveled, the way you were gasping for breath, the way you gave up trying to keep up with scaramouche’s quick and brutal pace.

you looked so helpless and vulnerable under him, his cock ramming into you and you have no choice but to take it like the good girl you are.

“answer me, you whore.”

scaramouche speaks to you with a stern voice, in which you immediately nod your head.

he smirks, letting go of your hair. he speeds up his thrusting, bringing one of his hands down from your waist to your clit, rubbing slow circles on it. you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter until,

finally, with just one more snap of scaramouche’s hips, you both reach your intense climax and cum together.

scaramouche continues to sloppily thrust into you, however, it’s much much slower, he continues to thrust until he comes into a full stop.

“oh fuck, you felt so good..”

you both lay there panting, with scaramouche still on top of you. he stares at all the hickeys and bite marks he left on your neck (he also left a lot on your thighs.), feeling proud he had his markings left on you.

“scara..?”

scaramouche snaps out of the daze he was in while he was staring at the markings he left on you—he immediately looks up at you and responds back.

“what is it?”

“can we do things like this… more often?..”

scaramouche chuckles, finding your shyness even after all the rough sex you two just had adorable.

“hmm.. sure.”

[sarahisslytherin]

•❣•୨୧ 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 - 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙞𝙞 ୨୧•❣•

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

summary: you and benedict have been sneaking out every chance you get.

contains: lots of romantic fluff and a dash of whorishness.

a/n: part two of the new series! hope you guys enjoy! PART I

word count: 1.4k

The garden beneath your window is cast in the pale glow of moonlight. The king has retired to his chambers and so have most of the servants. The wind blows gently into your bedroom from the open balcony window, the curtains waving softly as if inviting you out. You stand from your bed, the hairs at the back of your neck standing from excitement. You step out onto the balcony, immediately bathed in moonlight. As you run your fingers across the marble balustrade, you can’t keep your mind from running wild with all the possible scenarios that could play out tonight. You rest your head in the divot of your palm and gaze wistfully out onto the garden before you.

You don’t realize how lost in thought you are until your attention is caught by the rustling of grass. “Princess?” you hear Benedict’s voice call out for you. You look down and meet his eyes. He has only been able to pull this trick – sneaking onto the royal grounds past midnight – a handful of times, so it never fails to surprise you when you find his azure eyes shining beneath your window. He gasps as if the air is taken out of his lungs. “You know, your beauty never fails to take my breath away.”

You laugh incredulously. You have grown accustomed to hollow flattery your entire life and struggle to believe each one of Benedict’s Shakespearean compliments. But you say nothing of it, for the adoration in his gaze is evident and you wouldn’t dare doubt its sincerity. 

“Such a flirt.” you tell him and he smirks boyishly. “Just a moment, I’ll be right down.” You slink back into your chamber and out into the hall. Your white nightgown and floral robes flow as you glide down the crystal-clean stairs and out into the garden. There you find Benedict, his black coat making him seem more mysterious and dangerous than you know him to be. He takes your hands in his own and brings them to his lips, where he places a gentle kiss. “How I have longed to see you, my dear.”

“I feel the same.” you say, still catching your breath. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” You feel more electricity in this simple embrace than you have in years of dancing at balls and being courted by men of royal blood. Benedict smiles;  a sweet, earnest smile. He looks down nervously, fishing something out of his coat pocket before placing a sealed envelope in your hands. 

“For you to read later, when I am gone.” he says, bringing his thumb and forefinger up to hold your chin affectionately.  Though it has been a matter of mere weeks, what began as intense infatuation has inevitably begun to blossom into what can only be described as the purest form of love. The thrill of sneaking off with Benedict, or of reading the poetry he sends you nearly on a daily basis has become a sort of drug to you, a high you will never tire of chasing. However, it is in moments like these, when it is only the two of you and the moon as witness, that are filled with a tenderness that you feel will last forever. You open your palm and try to peek at what is scribbled on the inside of the envelope, cheekily holding it up against the moonlight.

“Very funny.” Benedict clicks his tongue and tickles your ribs, eliciting a laugh from you. “God, there is no sound I love more than that of your laughter. And to know I am the cause of it; well, that it makes it all that much lovelier.”

You smile before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and pulling away. But the moment is short-lived as Benedict pulls you in for a true kiss, one filled to the brim with passion and yearning, and perhaps a bit of lust. “Now, my dear.” you reprimand him half-heartedly. “We shan’t get carried away.”

“Of course, Princess.” he nods pliantly, but his voice is dripping with mischief as his head dips to plant a trail of kisses down the crook of your neck. He knows all too well that this act never fails to make you weak at the knees. “Surely we are both fully capable of abstaining from our desires, especially such a distinguished woman as yourself.”

“Oh, you are terrible, Benedict!” you push him off you, a scowl on your face. But one look at his roguish face and you are smiling in spite of yourself. “You are terrible and wonderful all at once.” 

“What conflicting reports.” he teases you. You feel as if you could jest this way with him for an eternity, simply laughing and kissing and smiling as lovers do. You try to picture it for a moment, a future with him. Your father would never approve. Benedict is the son of a Viscount and a member of arguably one of the finest families in London, but he has no title and is certainly not of royalty. You fear this love you have only just begun is fated to end sooner or later. But you do your best to push that thought away at present because Benedict is here and lovestruck and gazing at you starry-eyed. 

You awaken when your ladies in waiting rouse you from your sleep. You reluctantly stand and are almost immediately poured into today’s gown, the corset bodice somewhat constricting your lungs. As soon as you are left alone once again, you dash over to your vanity, sitting before the mirror as you rummage through a drawer and produce the envelope Benedict had given only the night before. You rip it open with a letter opener, your eyes eager to take in the words on the page. You recognize it almost instantly. It is a poem dedicated to you, one by Byron.

She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!

You swoon, nearly sighing as you press the parchment to your beating heart. You decide that to be adored like this is truly one of the greatest kinds of bliss this life has to offer. You reluctantly part with your reminder of Benedict as you are summoned to see the king. The servants seem to be exchanging whispers as you make your way through the endless corridors of the palace in search of your father. You cannot find a cause for it, but there is a growing feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach when you enter his parlor.  You find him in quite a jovial mood, sipping his tea and flicking through the pages of a dusty book. “You called for me, Papa?”

“Ah, yes! My dear, I have news for you.” he says, a wide grin on his weathered features. “Now, I know you will probably not be ecstatic to hear it, but I have found a suitor for you. Well, not truly a suitor. You see, you will be marrying him come summer. It would be an excellent alliance and it is about time you assume your responsibilities as the princess.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach. “Papa! No! You can’t do this to me! You cannot make me marry a total stanger!”

The king’s smile now fades, replaced with an authoritative scowl. “You will do as I say, child. If not for the good of our family, at the very least, for the good of England. You will meet this prince and as the season comes to an end there will be a wedding, and it will be yours. My decision is final.”

You find yourself gasping for breath, turning on your heel to storm out. You find an empty corridor and lean on a wall before sinking down to the palace floor as you weep. There are too many thoughts racing through your mind to count, and the one you cannot cast aside is that of Benedict, with his boyish charm and romantic poetry. It seems your forever with him was doomed from the very start.

tagging: @velvetcloxds @oweninadaydream @holdthegirrrl @enchantedbytomandhenry @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @dd122004dd @marvelspogue

[venuszn]

☆ : The Elevator

Summary / You and Bada are rival choreographers under the same company. Bada has always treated you differently and you didn’t know why. You convinced yourself that you hated her for it. But you’re both forced to face each other one evening when the company elevator breaks down and there’s no where to hide - from each other and ur feelings.

Cw / Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff

Authors note / So I wrote parts of this sober, tipsy and then hungover . . . And then wishing I was drunk lmao. It’s not my best piece of work I’ve been feeling a little demotivated but here u guys go <3

Wc / 2.3K words

“We appreciate that the two of you are this company's top performing choreographers. That is why we asked you both here today, as we would like to discuss the possibility of the both of you collaborating together to create a new, fresh, but distinct style that will suit our new girl groups debut.”

“I understand. But personally, I believe that my style is enough on its own and does not need additional input to achieve the vibe you are aiming for.”

Bada’s words smack you across the face and you feel your eye twitch. Your nails pick at the fabric of the chair beneath you as you force your anger down, swallowing the words of bile bubbling in your throat.

“No offence of course, to you.” She doesn’t even look at you as she says your name.

Your mouth stretches in a wry tightlipped smile. “Oh no, none taken. I actually feel the same. I’m confident enough in my own abilities. And I feel like collaborating with a dance style such as Bada’s might throw the vibe off entirely - which would be unfortunate. But of course no offence to you, Bada.” You say as you turn to face her, offering an empty smile.

Bada scoffs.

You’re both snapped out of it when you hear the aggressive clearing of the director's throat. “Well, I've heard what you both have to say. As much as I would have hoped for a little more professionalism, we do not have the time to waste trying to force you both to work together. So this is how it will be - the both of you will create your own separate choreographies and will perform them in 3 weeks time. We will be choosing one for the debut. Good luck to you both. You’re excused.”

You both bow and make your way out of the office and into the corridor. You walk ahead of Bada, irritation fuelling your steps as you enter the elevator. You turn to see Bada, a few steps behind you and out of pure pettiness you repeatedly press the button to close the elevator doors.

But to no avail as her long legs play to her advantage and she catches the doors just in time.

“You can’t keep doing that whenever you see me. You’ll break the elevator.”

“Then maybe take the stairs.”

Bada rolls her eyes.

Bada stands beside you, hands in her pockets as she looks ahead.

“My dance style might throw the vibe off entirely ?” She echoes your words from earlier with amusement.

“Yeah. What are you going to make those poor girls do ? Grab their crotches and start thrusting ?”

Bada scoffs and leans over you, a little too close for you liking, to press the button for the ground floor.

You feel her presence infiltrate your personal space like a bulldozer to a glass wall - because to Bada you were as transparent as can be and she could see right through you.

“Big talk coming from you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean ?”

“It means that I can see through this act you have going on and that I know you don’t hate me.”

You wish the elevator would surpass the ground floor and plummet into the fiery mouth of hell.

“Go to hell.” You hammer back.

“You didn't deny it.” You can almost hear Bada’s smirk.

You feel the rage rise within you - rage once tamed like the flame of a candle now igniting a stick of dynamite as you feel yourself losing your composure.

“I do hate you actually.”

You spin to face her, eyes locking with hers, the amusement evident within them as she raises a brow.

“I hate how you look down on me.”

You hold your ground, eyes bearing into her soul as you continue your barrage of words.

“I hate how you dismiss me. You have never once given me a chance. I don’t know what I did to you but one day you decided that I wasn’t worth your time or effort. You do not know me, Bada. But you have decided that you hate me.”

Bada’s eyes stare back into yours, void of amusement but replaced with another emotion unknown to you.

“I don't hate you, actually.”

The elevator comes to a stop as it arrives at its destination on the ground floor - regrettably not hell.

“I don’t care about you enough to hate you.”

Bada brushes past you and swiftly exits through the doors without sparing you a glance.

You stand frozen as you watch her leave. Her words bouncing around your ears in a dance of jest.

Only that it wasn't amusing.

In that moment you promised yourself that you did, in fact, hate Bada Lee. And that you would never take an elevator alone with her again.

How wrong you were.

Three weeks quickly passed by and it was the night before the deadline. Despite the fact that it was a Sunday evening, you found yourself back at the company building in hopes of quickly squeezing in one last practice before the morning - and what better place to do it than in the very room you would be dancing in.

You approach the elevator doors and you hear footsteps approaching behind you. You turn and scoff as you cant believe your luck, or lack thereof.

Bada walks towards you, cap donning her pink and black hair as she looks down to her phone, not yet noticing you. You deliberate for a moment whether to shut the doors on her now that she's not paying attention or to suck up your pride and let her take the damn elevator with you as it’s nighttime and you’re probably the only ones in the building.

The angel on your shoulder won and you folded your arms taking a step back to lean against the wall as you watched her approach.

As she gets closer, Bada lifts her head up and her eyes meet yours.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Are you stalking me now ?”

Bada scoffs in incredulity and steps in.

“I guess we both had the same idea.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You press the button to go up and you both stand there . The sound of the elevator making its ascent fills the void of silence between you. You stand there in disbelief of your luck, wondering if tonight could get any worse.

It did.

The four metal walls begin to quake as a shrill cry of metal scraping together slices through the once silent air.

You feel your body jump in shock as you grip onto the railing. Your head snaps to look at Bada but her eyes are already focused on you - wide and alert as you see her arm almost instinctively stretching out for you.

Before you can register anything, your bodies are bounced around once more and the electricity crackles and hisses before it blacks out entirely.

The elevator comes to a halt and you are both swallowed in darkness.

Bada immediately calls your name, voice laced with concern.

“Bada ? I'm here. I’m sitting down”

“Are you alright ?” She makes her way over to you, following the sound of your trembling voice before she crouches down in front of you as you sit on the ground knees to your chest.

The emergency lights flicker on, your eyes adjust and you blink to see Bada Lee mere centimetres away from you as she looks at you with the most emotion you've ever seen her show outside of dancing.

Bada blinks back at you, eyes staring into yours as she manages to observe how shaken you are. A feeling squeezed at her heart and she internally scolds herself.

Bada quickly rises to her feet. Now able to vaguely see, she takes a couple steps towards the elevator buttons and wastes no time in ringing the alarm.

Silence follows the rings as you both hold your breath, waiting and praying for someone to pick up.

“It’s a Sunday night, there’s probably no on-”

You're cut off by the voice of a man on the other side. Bada lets out a breath of relief and she takes control, explaining to the person your dilemma and securing you both your release.

Bada then makes her way back over to you and you feel her sit besides you. The dim overhead light permitting you to see her but only vaguely.

“Are you alright ?” She says your name tenderly.

You feel your throat tighten and you swallow hard. “I’m fine. Just a little claustrophobic but I'll be alright.”

“The maintenance guy said a minimum of three hours.”

“Yeah . . .” You mutter into your knees as you hold your arms around them tighter. Insecurity crawling its way around your mind. “Sorry you're stuck on here with me. We don’t have to talk or anything.”

“Stop . . . Just, stop.” Bada removes her jacket and places it around you without another word.

You both sit in silence, besides each other. You don't know how long it has been but it feels like forever and you pray that the girl beside you is unaware of the pounding echoing in your chest and the chorus of thoughts overlapping each other within your mind. You curse at yourself for getting into this position; ‘what kind of sick game is the universe playing ?’, you ask yourself.

“You know, when I said I didn’t hate you I meant it.” Bada’s words pull you out of your thoughts.

“Like you also meant that you didn't care about me. Which I can understand, we’re not friends. We don’t really know each other.”

“What if I want to know you more ?”

“What ?’

Bada shuffles in her spot beside you and clears her throat. She begins by saying your name gently.

“I don’t actually hate you. Or not care about you.”

You freeze in your spot, eyes locked on the vague darkness in front.

Bada continues, eyes locked but on you.

“I know that you don’t hate me either. That made everything so much harder.”

“W-what do you mean ?”

“I mean that I needed you to hate me. I needed to act like an ass around you and push you away before we even got close.”

“But why wo-”

“Because I have feelings for you.”

You feel your heart skip multiple beats.

“Fuck. Ever since you walked through those company doors you caught my attention. The way you carried yourself, how hardworking you were and how insanely talented you were - it all blew me away.”

You slowly turned to face Bada.

“And of course, how beautiful you are. I knew that I couldn't have you. I have a rule I've always stuck to which is not mixing work with pleasure. Then I saw how you would look at me and I knew I was done for. So I started to do everything to avoid you and to push you away.”

“Oh how selfless of you.” You say dryly.

“You made me feel like shit, Bada. For how many months you made me think I did something wrong or that I hurt you. You’re such a fucking coward.” You sniffle as you bury your head into your knees.

“I know. I know and I won't deny that. But here now, with you, I’m ready to step up and to face my feelings towards you. I can’t ignore them any longer and I can’t ignore you any longer. There’s been so many times where I’ve wanted to hold you - to touch you. To laugh with you or comfort you. I want to do all of that and more. That’s if you'll accept me . . .”

Bada gently guides your cheek and you let her, turning your head to face her as she holds you tenderly under her fingertips.

You feel heat travel through you from her touches and you lick your lips in nervousness. Bada’s eyes immediately flicker down to meet the sight of them. Her eyes then meet with yours, the both of you allowing the gravity of your attraction to pull your faces closer together.

Lips mere breaths away from each other, your hands find their way to rest on her shoulders as Bada slightly tilts her head and your lashes flutter shut.

“Is this my answer ?” Bada whispers onto your lips.

You inch forwards intending to close the gap.

But the sound of the doors prying open interrupts snapping the both of you out the moment causing you to jump back away from each other.

The bright light of a torch shines through the doors and you turn to see that you are being freed.

You look over at Bada, face a little flushed. Bada clears her throat and rises before offering you her hand and helping you up.

You feel butterflies travel down your arm to your stomach.

You both thank the guy and quickly exit, making your way out of the company doors before you realise that your hand is still in hers.

You blush and attempt to let go but you feel Bada grip your hand firmer as she leads the both of you out into the darkness of the night.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

You smile to yourself at her words and you find yourself lowering all of your defences for Bada Lee - the person you swore you hated.

Tag list / @princhii , @lil-elliesgf , @wiselight @nimixe ! If you’d like to be tagged for future Bada fics lmk !!

[ihaveverything]

Limitless manifesting for beginners

ʚ part I - the basic concepts

part II - states, techniques, change

part III - mental diet, sats

part IV - daily life, time

part V - resistance, faith, the ''real'' world

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Many people who first get started on their manifesting journey will come across a variety of sources, explanations, tutorials, techniques, and methods. When faced with all these different options and an abundance of content to apply, it can be quite overwhelming to know exactly what to do. How many times do I affirm a day? What scene should I use for my visualization? What are SATS and how do I do it perfectly? How do I get rid of my wavering? Do I need to fix my self-concept? Why is my 3d not changing? These are all questions that have been floating around the internet, and we all know the short answer is to persist, but people might wonder what’s so effortless in turning a blind eye to the harshest circumstances and putting faith into something you don’t have concrete proof of yet.

4D vs 3D

With the 4D referring to your inner world, your imagination & mind, and the 3D being the familiar physical construct of the reality you know, it’s hard to understand navigating daily life while “living in your head.” One of the biggest fears or doubts people have during their first stage of learning the Law is not knowing how to handle the 3D. A common misunderstanding is that you have to be delusional about your surroundings and completely ignore it. This is extremely difficult to achieve because our logical minds will always be aware of the 3D environment we live in. Being delusional when manifesting an SP might be trying to convince yourself your phone is filled with texts from them when that notification isn’t there. It could also be looking at a completely broke bank account and trying to convince yourself that you’re rich. Another thing about being delusional is that it implies you are avoiding the 3D or unable to acknowledge it since you fear seeing the circumstances that do not align with your desire, either because you believe they will hinder your manifestation, or it pulls you away from your ideal 4D. To avoid or to fear something is often confirmation of a belief you hold. When you view the 3D as a problem or something you cannot face, it means you haven’t been able to find full conviction in knowing you already are the person who has your desire even though you can’t see it yet.

“If you judge after appearances, you will continue to be enslaved by the evidence of your senses.” ― Neville Goddard, Your Faith is Your Fortune.

Manifesting is not about being delusional in an attempt to hide from what you see. It is to see the 3D for what it truly is, merely a reflection of your past states of consciousness, therefore freeing yourself and making new internal selections for the life you wish to experience. It is where you have been dwelling long enough for it to reflect into your individual reality, since it confirms what you assume to be true for your life, but it is not the objective truth as you perceive it to be. Once you change your perception of yourself and completely discard the old beliefs that tie you to the past and present 3D, your whole world will change.

Creation is finished

Another trap people might fall into is constantly worrying about whether their old story is too complicated or difficult to fathom being able to change it. The truth is, it does not matter when your SP blocked you, how long you guys haven’t seen each other, how you’re one week away from being homeless, or if your dream life seems light years away. This is because of one simple concept. Creation is finished. Everything you could possibly desire within reason of our human biology and experience is already promised to us in a different probable reality. There are infinite versions of ourselves and others, and your 3D will move mountains if that is necessary to bring about your desire, but under the condition that you have truly changed yourself first. Do not expect things to change if you have not changed yet.

“Because creation is finished, what you desire already exists. It is excluded from view because you can see only the contents of your own consciousness. It is the function of an assumption to call back the excluded view and restore full vision. It is not the world but your assumptions that change. An assumption brings the invisible into sight. It is nothing more nor less than seeing with the eye of God, i.e.,” ― Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness

Letting go vs persistence

Let go of the past, lack, desperation, and need. Persist in making the decision that you have your desire, regardless of it being unseen right now. To be honest, no matter how sympathetic people are towards your story, the anger, frustration, heartbreak, and guilt you feel is only reinforcing how you see yourself and your reality. Holding negative feelings towards someone for what they’ve done to you is understandable from the 3D perspective, but it does not benefit anyone if you are going to manifest a behavior change from them. If you are still blaming an SP for blocking you, does that sound like someone who feels as though they are already in a beautiful loving relationship with them?

“Do not waste one moment in regret, for to think feelingly of the mistakes of the past is to reinfect yourself. ‘Let the dead bury the dead’. Turn from appearances and assume the feeling that would be yours were you already the one you wish to be.” ― Neville Goddard, Feeling is the Secret

Going back to the questions mentioned in the first paragraph, it’s important to know that the word “change” is referring to a change in your beliefs and dominant state of awareness. It does not mean an effort based lifestyle change where you feel pressured to affirm or visualize in an unnatural way against your own will. Changing your state is as simple as making a decision each time you think of your desire throughout the day. You are free to change how you think and feel at any moment. It is not the event itself that holds meaning, but your reaction that implies acceptance.

“Man, who is free in his choice, acts from conceptions which he freely, though not always wisely, chooses. All conceivable states are awaiting our choice and occupancy, but no amount of rationalizing will itself yield us the state of consciousness which is the only thing worth seeking.” ― Neville Goddard, Awakened Imagination

It does not matter how many times you affirm or which words you say. You can affirm once a day or 10k a day (please don’t do that though), but if you haven’t changed your beliefs at all, then nothing will happen. Quality over quantity for anything you do. Mental dieting and keeping yourself in check for what thoughts and beliefs you are entertaining has proven to be easier and faster for many people.

source tba

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I was always meh on the fan theories that Crowley was some kind of high-ranking angel before the Fall, because there didn’t seem to be much evidence for it (in s1 he says “I helped build that one” about the nebula, not “I fucking hand-cranked the spacetime continuum into existence”) and because it seemed more thematically resonant for Crowley to have been Just Some Guy in the celestial hierarchy, rather than God’s Specialest Boy (gn).

But s2 does very much seem to be dropping hints that Crowley was an angel of some significant rank before the fall, possibly even a Supreme Archangel, and after the end of s2 that presents a new possibility I hadn’t thought of before.

What if Crowley knows Heaven can’t be reformed because he already tried it? What if cooptation was their strategy for Crowley, after he started asking questions but before the Fall?

It’s a classic move to neutralize challenges to a power structure. Take the people who are speaking out and say, hey, you make some good points. We hear you. In fact we’d like you to sit on this committee. Come change things from the inside, where you’ll have the power to get things done.

And lots of people in lots of real-world systems try this, genuinely believing they can make a difference and not realizing that there is no way to bend the system into what they want it to be, because the system wasn’t broken or badly led back when they first started complaining about it; it was working exactly as intended.

And these people either end up sucked into the system they were trying to change until it changes them instead. Or they end up bitter and checked out and cynical. Or, they refuse to yield in their calls for change and eventually get marginalized and pushed out of the system. Sound like someone we know?

From the beginning of s1, Crowley was adamant that Aziraphale’s attempts to find someone in Heaven who will listen to him and want to stop Armageddon are fruitless. There are no right people. I think he, like me, kind of assumed Aziraphale had figured that out by the end of the events of s1, which is part of why he’s so shocked that Aziraphale would even consider the Metatron’s offer. But Aziraphale hadn’t gotten there yet, and now Crowley is watching Aziraphale repeat the same mistakes he made, and he can’t convince him to stop.

[seoulmatez]

୨♡୧ DRUNKEN CONFESSION — geto suguru x reader. sfw. fluff. college au. reader is intoxicated. lots of flirting + kinda self-indulgent.

never in a million years would you have imagined walking side-by-side with geto like this. the man is practically a celebrity at your school—chased after and envied. and, like it’s normal, he’s here beside you. not as discreetly as you think, you spare him a glance out of the corner of your eye.

you had accidentally bumped into him earlier, the collision resulting in a good majority of the contents of your cup ending up on his shirt. profuse, slurred apologies fell from your mouth, but he didn’t seem to mind much about his ruined garment—in fact, he was more concerned about you. so much so that he had been kind enough to offer to walk you home.

thinking back on it now, it was a rather impulsive decision to leave without the group you arrived with, and with a guy you’ve spoken to no more than ten times, at that. but no one’s known for making particularly good decisions while under the influence, right? and, you were smart enough to shoot your friends a text explaining your whereabouts in (what you hoped was) the unlikely event that your choice to take geto up on his offer turned out to be a bad one.

although, that much didn’t seem like it would be the case; he’s been a perfect gentleman thus far—leaving a fair amount of space between the two of you and only letting his hand ghost over the small of your back during those moments when you seem unsteady. you should be thankful that he’s so chivalrous, and you are, but a little part of you, one swayed by the alcohol in your system, was hoping he’d be a little more touchy. nothing inappropriate, just an arm around your shoulder or some simple hand-holding.

you look at geto again, more directly this time. his chocolatey eyes are focused forward and the moonlight glints off the two silver hoops wrapped around his lips. you’ve always found him pretty, but the gentle aura of the night makes his beauty seem even more delicate.

you’re positive you would have ended up staring at him for the rest of the walk if it weren’t for your foot catching on the sudden rise of the sidewalk.

before you’re able to trip forward and make contact with the pavement, geto’s hands are on your hips, firmly pulling your figure against him. “woah, careful there.”

“sorry!” you apologize, wriggling out of his hold so you can turn to face him. he doesn’t look the slightest bit annoyed, in fact, there’s a soft smile tugging at his lips. if you were sober, you’d be capable of picking up on the humor hiding in it.

“it’s fine,” he assures you. you’ve been swaying since you two crossed paths at the party and geto has a hard time believing that’ll wear off any time soon.

“we still have a while ‘til we get to your place,” geto’s voice trails off with the last word as he turns around and crouches. you wordlessly stare at his back until he looks over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows. upon seeing your confusion, he spells it out for you. “hop on.”

“are you sure?” you ask him. “i can walk.”

geto’s is sure that statement isn’t true. “yeah, get on.”

you fight the smile threatening your lips as you climb onto his back, your arms loosely wrapping around his neck, wrists crossing at his collarbone. long legs boost the both of you up and geto’s arms snake under the backs of your knees before he sets off in the direction you’d been walking.

the cool breeze is even more evident against the warmth of your cheeks. this is a new proximity, one you haven’t been warranted before. you can feel the bit of skin exposed from beneath his t-shirt against your forearms, see the scrunchie holding the top half of his hair up in its bun. the scent of his shampoo—coconut, you think— wafts through the air, pleasantly meeting your nostrils. it’s hypnotizing, drawing words out of you that you certainly wouldn’t voice if you were sober. “you know, i’ve never really liked guys with long hair.”

he can’t conceal the snort that sounds in the night air. “is that so?”

you hum in confirmation, nodding your head despite geto not being able to see you. the rational part of your brain that would normally urge you to shut up isn’t functioning at the moment, so you continue. “but i like yours. it’s kind of hot.”

geto’s lips wobble in an attempt to hold back his laugh. alcohol makes you bold, huh? on the few occasions you two have interacted in the past, you were never this forward. geto has an eye for picking out those who are interested in him—they don’t make it hard. though, you completely slipped past his radar.

“you think?” he asks through a chuckle.

“yup,” you reply, popping the “p.” there’s no end to your vomit of words. once you’ve started talking, it’s difficult to get you to stop. “all my friends think it’s sexy when you tie it up before practice.”

geto doesn’t know what’s more surprising—how easily you’re giving up the information or the fact that he somehow missed you in the bleachers. it’s not the moral thing to do considering your current state, but he’s curious enough to ask, “what about you?”

“hm? what about me?”

“do you think it’s sexy?” he clarifies.

the burning in your cheeks is back but you don’t feel embarrassed, not the way you would if geto had asked you any other time. alcohol is your truth serum and without thinking of the consequences you’ll be facing in the future, you tell him, “yeah. you’re, like, super attractive.”

he was only teasing before but your answer makes geto’s eyebrows shoot up. as cocky as it sounds, the man doesn’t normally find such declarations surprising. although, that isn’t the case when it comes to you. he has no intention of telling you so when you’re drunk, but the feeling is mutual. geto clears his throat before his next words. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” there’s a sing-songy lilt to your voice that tells him your head is still swimming.

your willingness to so honestly answer each of his inquiries raises another question in geto’s mind. it’s a tad bit shameless on his part but you likely won’t even remember this exchange come morning considering your condition. and, geto thinks, the question is harmless enough—just a little flirting. “so, what do you like most about me?”

“mm, definitely your smile.” your reply comes almost immediately like you had been waiting for the opportunity to tell him so. the observation makes the corners of geto’s lips turn up. “it’s really pretty. but your piercings are a little intimidating.”

“oh?” geto’s pace slows down as he approaches the building you had told him was yours when the two of you were leaving from the party. he squats down to let you off his back and your feet haphazardly meet the pavement before you steady yourself. the crunch of pebbles beneath his shoes sounds in the air as geto turns around to face you. “you don’t like them?”

“i do,” you start, “i just bet it feels weird when you kiss, right?”

once again, geto’s eyebrows meet his hairline in a show of surprise. unconsciously, his tongue pokes out to toy with the cool hoops wrapped around his lips. “wanna see for yourself?”

“what?” you squeak, your eyes widening at geto’s suggestion. sure, you’re curious but that’s not what you meant. for the first time all night, you’re flustered. “i didn’t say that!”

he holds a fist to his mouth to hide his laugh which is still plainly audible despite his effort. with the same hand, he waves you off. “i was kidding.”

your lips are still parted in shock and you can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, but you nod in understanding.

“come on,” geto jerks his head in the direction of your building, “let’s get you inside.”

he leads the way with your instruction, typing in the four-digit pin to gain access and pressing the button in the elevator to take you to the third floor. you stop outside your door to pull your keys out of your bag, sticking the carved metal into the keyhole after a few attempts. you can’t see it, but geto’s lips pull up as he watches your struggle.

when you finally get the door open, you step inside your apartment. geto’s feet stay rooted to the floor of the hallway.

“drink some water before you go to sleep, okay?” he advises you.

too embarrassed to speak after the last mishap, you stick your arm out and thumb up, a smile accompanying the gesture.

your uncharacteristic silence draws a quiet laugh from geto. he raises his hand in a wave. “see you around.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

[demonsslayersstuff]

First Time (Nanami x Reader)

Description: A little fic about your first time having sex with Nanami. (Note: I wrote a bit of basic story background before getting into the smut. Reader is close friends with Shoko and Gojo)

Warnings: Fluff and of course smut. Oral, p in v sex. No use of a condom, but reader is on a form of birth control. (Safe sex is the best sex)

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing for Nanami, I plan on doing more in the future. I think my next work will be from my AOT project list. Enjoy!

“Damn. You’re telling me you’ve been dating blondie for a whole ass two months and you guys still haven’t done it”, Gojo says, turning to look at you as he laid on Shoko’s makeshift hospital bed in her lab. “Give her a break, we all can’t be little sluts like you”, Shoko tells him from her desk as she shuffles through the paperwork piled on her desk.

The three of you were hanging out after a long day work in Shoko’s lab, too tired to go out for the evening. At first, you’d been ranting about work, but as that conversation lulled, your relationship became the new main point of the conversation. “Hey, I’m not that much of a slut. I’m too busy cleaning up after everyone’s messes to have time for that”, Gojo grumbled before moving to sit up right. “I want to take things slow”, you tell them from your own place of rest across from Shoko in a worn, but comfy chair. “And that’s completely fine”, she replies, giving a pointed look at Gojo, before her attention falls back to her paperwork. He sticks his tongue out in response. “But I want to take things to the next level…I just don’t know how”, you say, looking up between the two of them.

“Ooo, ready to get hot and steamy with Nanami?”, Gojo asks while wagging his eyebrows. “If you ever do that again I will punch you”, you say with disgust. Shoko looks up from her papers, eyeing you carefully for a minute. “Have you told him this?”, she asks you. Your cheeks burn red from embarrassment, “No..”, you mumble. “Well, that would be a good place to start”, Shoko says. “But I don’t know how”, you whine, throwing your head back with a huff. “Eh, just tell him something like these past two months of dating have been great, but I’m ready to take it to the next level”, Gojo pipes up from his side of the room. Both you and Shoko turn to look at him with shocked expressions. “What?”, he exclaims. “That was actually really good advice”, you admit while Shoko chimes in with a, “What the hell happened to the real Satoru Gojo?”. “Har har”, he responds. “I can occasionally give good pieces of advice”, he continues. You giggle as Shoko grunts in reply. “Back to the main point, you just gotta tell him Y/N”, Gojo says before he scoots off the bed, walking over towards you and Shoko.

“I know, I know”, you murmur. The conversation is interrupted when you hear a buzz and watch as Gojo sighs before picking up his phone. The call doesn’t last long, “Well ladies this was fun but, duty calls”, he says after hanging up the phone. “Who was it this time?”, Shoko asks. “Apparently Yuta and Inumaki ran into higher grade curse than they believed there to be”, Gojo replies, frustration evident in his tone. “Are they ok?”, you ask with worry. “They’re fine, they handled it on their own, but I need to go and make sure everything is ok”, he tells you. “Need help?”, you ask. “Nope, I can handle this. Besides Nanami should be back soon from his own mission, go be with him”, Gojo tells you with a wink. “Call me if you need help”, you tell him as he heads for the door. He pauses briefly, turning to look back at you and Shoko. “The next time we have this little get together, I better be hearing about someone taking the next step”, he calls with a laugh and disappears before the water bottle you threw at him reaches his spot, hitting the door with a thud. Shoko just laughs before rolling her eyes.

It’s not long after that, that you find yourself walking the fairly quiet hallways of the school, most everyone in their respective dorms or homes for the evening. You’d left Shoko knowing that the two students would be arriving any minute per the message she’d received from Gojo. You glance at your own phone, waiting to see when Nanami would text that he was back from his mission. You pause, turning to look out the window, eyes watching the setting sun. It was a beautiful sight to see; the former blue sky turning into shades of golden reds and oranges. It wouldn’t be much longer until the sky would darken further. Unbeknownst to you, the man you were just thinking about watches you from down the hall. Nanami hadn’t texted you that he was back from his mission, preferring to seek you out in person.

He walked slowly towards you, slipping his arms around your waist when he reached you, knowing that no students wouldn’t be walking down the hall at this hour. “Mmm Ken?”, you softly question as his face comes to rest against yours, his grip tightening, holding you close. “Hey”, he calls out, voice barely above a whisper. “How was the mission?”, you ask, leaning your head back to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Not bad, the curse was exorcised and no one got hurt”, Nanami answers before turning you around to face him. He studies your face for a moment, his eyes carefully looking at yours. “What’s up?”, he questions. “Nothing”, you respond, slightly confused. “Darling I can see it your eyes, there’s something you wanna talk about”, Nanami presses on. You sigh, it was hard to keep things from him. He had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book. “Let’s talk somewhere a little more private”, you suggest, eyes peering down the hall to make sure no was around to listen in. “Of course, is something wrong?”, Nanami asks, slight worry in his tone. “No, no”, you immediately start, making an effort to keep the conversation calm. “But it’s something that I want to discuss between just the two of us”, you continue with a smile, though your inner monologue was going through nothing short of a near panic attack with what you actually wanted to tell him. “Very well, let’s head out, we can talk in my car”, Nanami tells you. You nod your head as he takes your hand, leading you out.

It’s a short walk to the car. Once you’re seated you take a steadying breath, willing yourself to act like mature adult as Nanami slides into the drivers seat. “What’s wrong darling, you’re worrying me”, he begins, turning to look at you with his honey golden eyes. “Ken, I’ve really enjoyed the past two months of our relationship, but…I’m ready to take things to the next step”, you say, your heart beating erratically as you look towards him. You watch as his eyes widen in shock before he clears his throat. “Take things to the next step?”, he questions carefully, not wanting to get his own hopes up. He’d been ready a long time ago, but he was waiting for the right time, waiting for you to be ready. “Yes, I want to…”, you start, taking another calming breath before continuing. “I want to have sex with you, if that’s what you want”, you finish, voice meek. “Ahhh”, Nanami replies, letting your words wash over him. “Are you absolutely sure you are ready for that?”, he asks you, wanting to be doubly sure that you were ready. “Yes”, you say more confidently. You were ready. You felt secure in the relationship, you knew it was time. Nanami smiles at your response. “Then, if you’re up for it, how you spend the night at my place?”, he asks you.

You felt a tug in your stomach at his words, the implications behind his question were as clear as day. If you spent the night, you knew what would happen. You reach out and grasp his hand lightly, squeezing it for a moment. “I’d really like that”, you tell him honestly. He leans over to give you a soft peck. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you, I promise”, he whispers, his voice causing goosebumps to erupt across your body. “Ok”, you sigh, before Nanami settles back into his seat before starting the car, ready to take you home.

Before you know it you find yourself looking at yourself in a mirror. Nanami had left you to use his private bathroom to clean up form work while he went to use his guest bathroom. He was giving you some much needed space. As you continue to look at yourself in the mirror you internally curse yourself. Why couldn’t I have been more bold? More risk taking?, you think. You so desperately wanted this, but at the same time you were worried. What if you weren’t good enough, what if he didn’t like it. “Are you ok?”, Nanami questions on the other side of the door, apparently he’d finished cleaning up. “Yes”, you answer a bit shaky, and you internally cringe. After a quick splash of water on your face, you open the door, eyes greeting Nanami’s. Your jaw nearly hit the floor as you take in his figure. You’d seen your boyfriend shirtless many times, but today he looked delectable.

His usually well kept blond hair laid a bit more messily across his forehead. He was clad only on a pair a dark sweatpants that hugged his waist just right, low enough to show the v lines, leaving the rest to your imagination. You gulped back your words as your eyes move up to his chest. Years of being training and working as a Jujustu sorcerer did wonders for his body. To you he looked like a marble statue, flawlessly sculpted and chiseled to perfection. Any coherent thought leaves your brain as your eyes continue to rake over his body, and though you were still nervous, you felt a heat beginning to pool in your lower belly. “You know we don’t have to do this if you aren’t ready”, Nanami tells you as he watches you carefully. He notes the slight worry in your eyes, but also sees the warmth in your cheeks. He knew you were flustered just looking at him. You step closer towards him, leaving barely any space between your bodies, your chests almost touching. With the way Nanami looked in this moment, you were not about to turn this down. “I want this Kento. Please I want you”, you whisper, eyes locking with his, your desire for him evident in your voice.

He closes the distance swiftly, lips brushing against yours, hands cupping your face gently, taking the time to simply kiss you sweetly. After a moment he pulls away slightly, “Let’s go somewhere more comfortable”, Nanami murmurs before pulling you into his bedroom, the door being swiftly shut. His lips capture yours again quickly as you find yourself pushed up against the door, the sweetness of the earlier kiss being replaced with heated desire. Nanami’s hands play with the hem of your shirt as the kiss deepens, your fingers roaming through his blond hair. You lean your head back against the door, allowing Nanami’s lip to attach to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt. You moan softly when his hands cup your breasts hesitantly, testing the waters. “It’s ok Ken, I want this”, you whine as his fingers play with your nipples, while he continues to assault your neck. He stops momentarily, hands gripping your shirt before it’s swiftly pulled off your body. The cool air hits your skin, nipples pebbling as you gasp inaudibly. “Beautiful”, he murmurs before he takes a good look at your body, trying to burn this imagine into his mind permanently.

“Bed”, he commands, before you’re moved from the door to his soft bed. Your back barely hits the mattress when his lips attach to your breasts suckling each one, the sensation earning a soft sigh. His other hand moves slowly down your stomach until it reaches the waistline of your pants. “Please Ken”, you whimper, your worries long gone, all you wanted was for him to touch you anywhere and everywhere. “I’ve got you”, he says, voice hooded before taking your other breast in his mouth. His tongue swirling over your nipple. Your back arches when you feel his hand slip into your underwear, fingers finding your entrance with ease. His middle finger softly moves in a circle motion on your clit as your hips buckle involuntarily. “Ken”, you huff as he teases you for a second, before he slips his digit inside of you. Your damp walls suck him in greedily. “Damn baby, you’re already fairly wet”, he tells you as his finger slides in and out of you for a few seconds. Nanami pulls his hand away and you almost cry from the loss of pleasure. “Hang on love”, he says before yanking the remainder of your clothes away.

“Wait, what are you doing?”, you ask watching Nanami's hands grip your knees before throwing them over his shoulder, his hot breath falling against your glistening pussy. “What does it look like love? I wanna taste you”, he responds, eyes locking with yours for a moment before his eyes fall between your legs, pointedly looking a your own arousal that he could see seeping out of your entrance. You open your mouth to speak, but your words die as he edges forward for a moment, his tongue swiping across your pussy, eliciting a shocked moan. “Spread them open pretty girl, let me eat you”, Nanami commands. You’re shocked at how quickly you respond to his words, relaxing your hips as he places a quick kiss to your thigh. “Good girl”, he mumbles before you feel him in back in the place that you’d only imagined in your fantasies. Your head falls back and you lift your hips up slightly as you feel his tongue inside you, licking and slurping up your juices. A strangled moan escapes from the back of your throat and your fingers thread through his golden locks, pulling them slightly. You almost want to die from embarrassment at the lewd noises that fall across the room, but the pleasure you feel when Nanami rubs his finger against your clit makes your brain turn to mush.

You know with the way his tongue was stroking your inner walls that you weren’t gonna last long, heat pooling in your lower abdomen. “I’m so, ngh..Ken I’m so fuck..close”, you heave out as he continues to eat you out like you were his last meal on Earth. With a few more flicks of his tongue you come, flashes of white erupting across your vision as you cry out his name over and over. It’s only when your hips finally stop stuttering that he pulls away, taking a moment to enjoy the mess he’d created, your cum staining the navy blue comforter, not that he cared. He moves up your body, gentle kisses placed along your hip, stomach, breasts, and neck before he kisses you on the mouth. You taste yourself for a moment when your tongues intertwine before he pulls away with a triumphant sigh.

“You ok?”, he questions softly. “More than ok, I just needed to catch my breath”, you respond, pulling him in for another sweet kiss. When his waist makes contact with your thighs, you feel his harden member. You break the kiss, determined to make him feel the same way he’d made you feel. “Pants off”, you tell him, switching your positions, letting him lay back on the mattress as you settle between his legs. With his pants now long gone, you feel a surge of worry shoot through for a second, while not super long, Nanami was quite girthy. As you wrap your hand around his dick, giving it a few experiment thrusts you had distinct feeling that tomorrow you would not be walking out of his apartment properly. You hear a hiss of pleasure coming from him as you thumb softly swipes across his slit, his precum wetting your fingers. "My turn to take care of you", you tell him before spitting on his member, your hand picking up its pace. As Nanami turns into puddy you lean down, licking the length of his dick, your tongue swirling on his tip before you fully take him in your mouth. Nanami nearly blows his load as he peers down at you, your head bobbing up and down, cheeks flushed and hair messy as you try to take him as deep as you could in your mouth. Nanami's hips buck up as you fondle his balls, grunting as he slowly loses control. "God you take me so well". he groans. Once you add your hand to help create more friction, Nanami knew he was a goner.

"Love, I'm gonna..fuck, I'm gonna cum soon, where can I-", he starts but the words die in his throat as you take him deeper and before he can contain himself he spills his seed into your mouth, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. While not your favorite taste, there was something imitate in this moment as you swallowed, before his dick slipped out with a pop. You shimmy up his body, his arms pulling you closer as you place delicate kisses on his jaw. "I'm sorry love I didn't mean to do that", Nanami tells you after you kiss him softly. "It's ok Ken, I wanted it, I promise", you respond. The two of you relish in the peaceful atmosphere for while, allowing Nanami to come back down from his high. "You want to keep going?", he questions after a few minuets of silence. "Yes", you tell him honestly. Nanami smiles before his fingers slip inside of your pussy, pleased to know you were fairly wet. "Let me get a condom", he says, moving to sit up. "Wait, you don't need to", you tell him hastily. Nanami turns to look at you, choosing his words carefully. "Darling, we are not ready for kids and as we just witnessed, I'm not sure I'll pull out in time", he tells you. "I know, that's why I got an IUD", you say, cheeks flushed. "You did?", he asks, unable to contain his surprise. “Yes, I mean if you’d rather use a condom that’s fine, but I wanna feel you…all of you”, you tell him, eyes downcast from the sudden shyness you were feeling.

Nanami sits back down on the bed, fingers moving to lift up your face. “I want to make you feel comfortable and good, so if this is what you want to do, I’m ok with it”, he says softly. You nod your head at his words and allow him to lay you back down on the bed as he moves to hover over your body. He grabs your thighs, moving your legs to wrap around his waist. You watch him stroke himself a few times before he lines his thick cock up to your entrance. Your breath hitches as he coats himself with your juices. “Tell me if it hurts, I’ll stop love”, Nanami tells you, looking at you, eyes catching yours. “I’m ready Ken”, you say quietly. He gives your hips a reassuring squeeze before he pushes in slowly. You gasp loudly as his cock stretches you, pain mixed with the pleasure. Nanami gives a few shallow thrusts before he sinks deeper inside your slick walls. You move to wrap your arms around his neck as he bottoms out, his balls firmly planted on the lower part of your ass. “Fuck you feel amazing”, he mumbles, words slightly choked. It was hard for you to speak, Nanami filled you up in a way you’ve never experienced before. So instead you lean up and kiss him sloppily; teeth gnashing together, spit intermixing. But it felt so amazing, for the first time your bodies were together, you never wanted the moment to end.

Nanami gives an experimental thrust; sliding all the way out before pushing back inside of you, the sensation earning him a cry of pleasure as you break away from the kiss. “God please don’t stop”, you mewl, fingers nails raking across his back. Using one hand, he lifts your hips slightly, hitting you in a deeper spot as the other hand wraps around your throat possessively, but not squeezing you. You can’t contain the moans that fall from your lips as he continues to pound into you, picking up the pace, his cock practically hitting your cervix with each thrust. “Look at me”, he calls out gruffly, forcing your eyes to snap open. Nanami was a beautiful sight to behold; his hair falling against his forehead in a sweaty mess, his breath falling out in heavy puffs, eyes glazed from the pleasure. He’d never looked so good before. You reach out, cupping his face for a second, eyes holding each other in a very vulnerable, very intimate moment. Words not needed to be spoken as he leans down, kissing you deeply. It’s takes about three more thrusts before you’re unable to hold back your orgasm, your walls clenching around his cock, your moans being swallowed in the kiss. Nanami doesn’t last much longer, he feels the tug in his lower abdomen before he shoves his face into your neck, his thick white cum painting the interior of your slick walls.

You sigh with pleasure as his seed continues to shoot inside of you, making you feel full, almost sated. Nanami’s hips rock into yours for a couple more seconds before he groans; he pulls you to him as he flips onto his back, not wanting to crush you with his weight. Neither of you speak for a long time. His cock stays buried deep within you as you lay your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his erratic heartbeat calming down. Once he’s returned back to reality, Nanami leans down and kisses the top of your head. “You ok?”, he questions quietly, fingers gently running through your hair. “Mmm, feel s’good Ken”, you murmur. “I’m gonna pull out now ok”, he tells you. You nod your head, face scrunching slightly as he slips out of you, his cum beginning to seep out of you and onto to the bed. As much as he wants to stuff it back inside of you, Nanami knows it’s not the time for that. “Let’s clean up and sleep”, he calls to you, already seeing your snoozing face. He gently pinches your hip, forcing you awake. “Come on love”, he calls sweetly.

A little while later the two of you are back in bed, clad in clean clothes and in fresh sheets. You grab your phone sending a quick message to your group chat with your friends before turning it back off, preferring to deal with the deluge of text messages in the morning. “Night love”, Nanami says as you snuggle into his embrace, sleep finding you very quickly that night.

[clubforfrogs]

Slip Ups (Part 2) Poly Marauders x Reader

Quick note: Omg I can’t believe I’ve already finished my first fic. It’s obviously a pretty small one (only two parts) but i’m so excited that people actually seem to like it! If you have requests please send them- I need ideas!

This part is about 2.3k words- I hope you enjoy!

•

Earlier, sneaking around and breaking rules with the marauders sounded fun. Running away from teachers, giggling amongst each other, and thinking of new pranks when inspiration struck. Really, who wouldn’t want to prance around with Hogwarts’ hottest group of guys? But right now, looking at that same group standing in front of you, you wanted to be swallowed whole by the couch you were sitting on. The boys had been about to sneak out and continue on their adventure without you, but somehow spotted you before they actually left.

“Hey, are you guys heading out?” You winced at how lame you sounded as James replied, “Uh, yeah? I invited you earlier today. We thought you’d gone to sleep already, but this is perfect! Now we can all head out!” Your stomach sank at the excited nod the three of them shared. There was no way you could just ditch them without hurting their feelings. You slowly heaved yourself up from the couch and made your way over to them. 

“James’ invisibly cloak is probably too small for all of us, so we’ll need to split up into pairs. Who here’s good at the disillusionment charm?” Remus asked. James shook his head first, “I’ve only casted it a handful of times, I’m no good.” Sirius looked at you and Remus sheepishly, “Same here, Y/n, gorgeous, love of my life, please tell me you know how to cast it?” Your face felt hot at Sirius’ words, but before you could answer James interrupted, “Hold on Sirius, I wouldn’t mind huddling close under the invisibility cloak with Y/n.” He sent a wink your way and you were pretty sure your face would burst into flames at any moment. Before anyone else could get in another remark, you spoke, “I’m pretty good with the charm. So Remus and I will use the charm while you two,” you pointed at James and Sirius, “use the cloak?”

Remus nodded in agreement, “Yeah, that should work, now let’s head out. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.” James and Sirius threw the cloak over themselves and immediately disappointed. You and Remus looked at each other. You watched as Remus cast the charm on himself, and you watched as he disappeared. The only evidence that he was there was the faintest outline around him. You took a deep breath, then did the same, muttering the incantation and finally disappearing. You heard a low whistle, but couldn’t see who did it. You were immensely grateful at that moment that none of them could see you flush red. “Ok, let’s head out. I trust that you, Sirius and James, know the plan. Darling, we’ll fill you in on the way.”

Your mouth dropped open as you all headed out of the common room. The entire student population at Hogwarts described Remus as the shy, stoic type. All of that seemingly disappeared from his demeanor the second he started talking to you or the other marauders. Did that mean he liked you too? Did that mean all of them did? You shook your head as if to clear the thought. Stay focused L/n, don’t be ridiculous. A low whisper broke you out of your all-over the place thoughts, “Make sure we stick together, splitting off from each other just makes us more likely to get caught.” Remus reasoned. You agreed with his thinking, but were slightly surprised when you felt a hand grab your own. You let out a squeal of shock, then quickly slapped a hand over your face. “Sorry about that,” Remus adjusted his grip on your hands, so they were now intertwined, “hopefully we’ll be able to stick together more easily now.” You quickly wondered how he was able to find you so quickly, but brushed it off as him having a keen eye. “Oh, yeah. Makes sense.” Your voice wavered a bit, but if any of them noticed, they didn’t say. Another voice spoke. It was James, surprising you with how close he was, “Alright, let’s head to the snake pit.”

Nerves churned in your stomach as you made your way to the Slytherin common room. Yeah, that was definitely the reason your stomach was in a knot, certainly not the fact that one of your longtime crushes, Remus Lupin, was holding your hand. Remus, feeling the way your hand tensed, mistook your infatuation for the fear of being caught, “Hey, don’t worry, this is a pretty mild prank compared to some of our others. James wouldn’t have invited you if this could get you into serious trouble. You want me to walk you through the prank? Would that help?” You couldn’t help but melt a little at his concern. “No, it’s alright, I think I’d rather be surprised by your guys’ utter genius.” You said the last words with obvious sarcasm, as Remus let out a noise of disbelief, “I’ll choose to ignore that last bit. But good choice, you’re going to love it. Oh, and would you look at that, we’ve arrived.”

You looked and around and realized Remus was, in fact, correct. It was colder down in the dungeons compared to the Gryffindor common room. You wrapped one arm around yourself as Remus led you toward the sound of James and Sirius’ footsteps. Sirius, having heard the pair of you approach, told each marauder where to go and what to do, “and you, my dear Y/n, get to sit back and enjoy the show.” You waited as they all dispersed. You looked around nervously, praying that prefects didn’t decide to do check in over heard for the next few minutes. But you also couldn’t deny the adrenaline rush you were feeling. You had never really been a strictly “by the rules” student, but you’d also never snuck out to prank Slytherins in the middle of the night. An out of breath silhouette of Remus stood in front of you, you could hear from the way he spoke that he was smiling, “Now we get to watch it all unfold,” 

He led you to the now open door of the Slytherin common room. It was absolutely nerve-wracking being in there, but the way Remus grabbed your hand again made you feel a lot a little better. Suddenly, you heard a commotion, and a group of four Slytherins came scrambling into their common room. You recognized them as students that would constantly pick of the first years and make fun of any other wizards and witches for not being pureblood. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel any satisfaction from seeing their panicked faces, and you strained to hear their conversation, “Did you see that?” a tall and skinny wizard said. Another wizard who looked almost identical aside from his much lighter hair responded, “Of course I did! I didn’t think ghosts could get into our common rooms! But did you see that thing? It was all bloody and mangled and terrifying.” The first boy spoke up again, “Of course I saw it! And it doesn’t look like any of the ghosts here at Hogwarts. We’re so fucked!” The group of them looked positively frightened, before a shorter boy who hadn’t said anything yet pointed to the dorm stairs and spoke in a shaky voice, “Guys…”

A pale man floated through the air towards the boys. His hair was flat and greasy, his neck bore long gashes caked with blood, and he looked angry. Remus squeezed your hand as if to reassure you that this was all fake, and you were immensely grateful for it. You watched as the boys ran around the common room like headless chickens, attempting to flee from the ghost. The tall boy with light hair had been cornered by the ghost, and whimpered. It was hard to make out in the dimness, but you could see how his pyjama bottoms started to darken, indicating that, “Oh Merlin, he just pissed himself,” you whispered to Remus. The two of you cracked up, while trying to be as silent as possible. You were laughing so hard that you didn’t notice when the prank had ended, not until Remus calmed himself and muttered, “Let’s get out of here.” 

The two made your way towards the Gryffindor common room. You were walking at a nice leisurely pace until your ears picked up on a pair of footsteps that didn’t belong to you or Remus. You stopped Remus, asking, “Do you hear that?” The both of you listened, but Remus was the one to catch sight of Filch as he turend the corner, walking down the same hallway you and Remus were in. Now, Remus and you were still disillusioned, but neither of you were willing to take the chance of being caught. Remus grabbed you and pulled you into a nearby broom closet quietly. The two of you were both breathing heavily as you strained to hear if Filch was gone or not. Your thoughts didn’t stay of Filch for long, however. They were pulled to Remus’ strong chest now pushed flush to yours. His arms hanging at his sides, but were still so close to you. Remus had apparently noticed the same thing, because you could feel his breath hitch. You desperately didn’t want the atmosphere to turn awkward, so you whispered to him, “How long do you think we’ll be-“ he interrupted you. “You didn’t want to come out with us tonight, why?” 

His tone wasn’t accusatory, it was just matter-of-fact. Regardless, you started to stumble over your words, “What? I didn’t- I never said, that. You just.. read the situation-“ he cut you off again. “Just be honest. Is it because your uncomfortable with us? Do you not like breaking rules? What is it?” His tone was so desperate, you just wanted to tell him everything. Tell him how the reason you didn’t want to go out with them was because you were so horribly in love with each of them, even though they were already in the perfect relationship. Your silence made the air in the closet feel heavy. Suddenly, you felt Remus move his hands to your hips. It made you feel dizzy and hot and wonderful at the same time. He leaned down, “Or did you not want to come out with us because of how you feel towards us?” His words shocked you. “Look, I’m not trying to mess you guys up. I know you’re already committed to each other. I swear I’ll distance myself and leave you guys alone.” 

Remus spoke quickly, “No! that’s not what I want- not what we want.” “What? What are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to stop the feeling of hope blooming in your chest. “James, Sirius, and I speak about you all the time. Those ‘jokes’ we make in class? That’s just how we feel. We want you, if you are willing, to be with us.” If you thought Remus’ hands on your hips made you feel things, his confession doubled those feelings. “Really? You’re not kidding? Because that would break my heart.” Remus wrapped his arms around you and pulled you impossibly closer to him, “I swear to you that I am telling the truth.” 

Giddiness overtook you. Without thinking, you grabbed Remus’ face and pulled him towards you, smashing your lips onto his. The kiss was full of all your pent up longing for this exact moment. All of the times they’d make flirty comments toward you without you knowing how to respond, all of those moments you wished you could just fit in to their world. But right here, kissing Remus, you finally felt like it was a really possibility. You both pulled back, gasping for air and grinning like idiots. Remus dragged you back to the Gryffindor common room excitedly, the pair of you practically skipping your way there. 

Inside, you found a worried looking James and Sirius. “Where have the two of you been? We thought you guys had been caught!” Sirius rambled. You looked at Remus, confirming your prior situation hadn’t just been a figment of your imagination. He nodded and you with a smile and you launched yourself at Sirius, connecting your lips. He huffed in surprise before eagerly retuning the kiss. This kiss was wilder than your kiss with Remus. Sirius tasted slightly of fire whiskey, so you assumed he and James had celebrated their prank on their way back from the dungeons. You heard the disbelieving chuckle from James as he talked with Remus, “I take it you told her then?” You broke a part from Sirius and looked at James, “He might’ve.” 

James walked over to you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. Your lips met and finally everything was complete. You had the three men you’ve been pining over for forever all to yourself, and you didn’t want to waste a single moment with them. You flung your arms around James’ neck and pulled his head even closer to yours. He obliged you as he smiled into your lips and kissed you sweetly. When you both finally came up for air, you looked around at Remus, Sirius, and then back to James. They all looked back at you with the same excitement you were sure was displayed plainly across your face. The look in their eyes was the only confirmation you needed: this was going to work. All of you fear and worries surrounding whether they really liked you or if this would last disappeared. They were going to do everything in their power to make this work, and you would do the same. 

The four of you went up to the boys’ dorm and flipped down onto one of their beds. It was a tangled mess of limbs, but no one cared. You used Sirius as a pillow while James laid on your stomach and Remus was lying by your side. You were pretty sure life didn’t get any better than this.

•

Thank you for reading, and again, send me some requests! I’d love to hear them💕

[superblysubpar]

dad!steve harrington x mom!you

a How Sweet It Is story

summary: steve's baby girl isn't really a baby anymore

3,911 words

warnings: please see the How Sweet It Is masterlist for general warnings about this AU | minor spicy smutty mentions | minor alcohol mention | shitty first boyfriends, with minor discussion of feeling pressured in a relationship | overall an angsty yet fluffy story

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the story!

Autumn, 2004

There’s something burnt inside of the microwave, some vegetables they refuse to eat past their prime in the bottom drawer of the fridge. There’s a lovely drawing on your living room wall, the only evidence left behind a purple and orange crayon which leads you to believe it was Annie, Luke having dared her to it no doubt though.

The dishes aren’t done, the laundry isn’t folded, the bills need to be paid, but for once, you really don’t care.

Because Annie and Luke are with The Munson’s at the movie theater then staying over, Julie is sleeping over at a friend’s house. Olivia is with Zoe and her aunts, Grace is at her first ever boy girl Halloween party then also sleeping over somewhere and Steve isn’t even having a melt down. And your eldest, Nora, for once, isn’t with her boyfriend, but having a much needed girl’s night with her best friend, so Steve’s in a fantastic mood.

You’re not going to take the night or the mood for granted.

He’s refilling your wine and pulling you onto his lap once the movie starts, the movie you got to pick and one that has sex, and weapons, and swearing and you get to watch from any spot on the couch you want. You get to take up space and eat junk food you tell them they can’t.

Except, it turns out, you and Steve don’t really care about the movie or any of that stuff.

Steve’s got his hands running down your back, like each little dip in your spine is meant just for his fingers. His warm breath flows over your throat as you throw your head back, his kiss finds a spot on your neck and he can’t wait to mark you up like he used to. Can’t wait to make out with you for hours with no interruptions except his stupid lungs needing air. He’s gonna make you come on his fingers, and his tongue and-

Ring! Ring! Rinnnngggg-

“Don’t,” you gasp, eyelids fluttering and blurring your view of the ceiling when Steve grinds his hips up into yours, “Don’t you dare answer that.”

His lips graze your collarbone. “Answer what?”

Your laugh makes him smile against your jaw before he’s catching your head with both hands and pulling your lips down to meet his.

Hey, you’ve reached The Harrington’s! We’re sorry we missed your call, but if you leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you as soon as we can. Have a great day!

Steve hums into your mouth, thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he whispers, “Your phone voice is so cute.”

Your lips skim over his, back and forth as you shake your head. Narrowed eyes meet his sparkling ones. There’s little lines next to his eyes that almost obscure the freckles, proof of the years and laughter, direct results of letting you steal his sunglasses forever.

Beeep!

Uh, hey guys…

Both of your chests inflate, shared held breaths at the sound of Eddie Munson’s worried tone.

Steve looks over at the machine, your forehead knocks against his temple and his arms wrap around your waist as you both exhale and wait for Eddie to tell you the bad news.

A kid threw up, cried, something, and that meant they were coming back home.

It’s worse. It’s so much worse.

So, um, listen, I know, I know okay, it’s your first free night, but I just wanted to call and let you know…well jesus liv, how do you want me to tell them? If it were my kid I’d-

Steve looks at you and you both get up at the same time, worried expressions and racing towards the phone.

Christ, okay, we have Nora, and we’re bringing her home…I’ll let her tell you what happened. But uh-

Steve’s hand reaches the receiver first and his jaw is sharp as he bites out, “What?”

You’re unable to hear Eddie, but it cannot be good from the look on Steve’s face. Cannot be good from the way he grits out a ‘thanks’ and slams the phone down, almost knocking the whole thing right off the little table.

His hands are in his hair and he’s pacing, so it’s definitely not good.

Steve’s glasses slide down the slope of his nose while brown and slightly wavy hair speckled with gray gets trapped in his fingers as he yanks and ruffles it and blows out his breath.

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill her. I’m gonna-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” you pull at his wrists when he makes a third spin back towards you and get him to stop. “What’s going on? What did Eddie say?”

Steve’s arms go limp in your hold, hanging next to his plaid pajama pants as he stares at you. Eyes a little more green when they get all teary like they are now.

“Fuck, she’s…”

“What? She’s what?” You panic when he trails off, when he starts crying. You grab the front of his shirt, “Steve, tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“She’s fine, she’s,” he sniffles and presses his fingers under his glasses which he then yanks off and flings onto the kitchen counter. “God, I’m so fucking mad at her. She’s fine. She’s drunk, or was drunk, I don’t know. She was at a party or something. Eddie said they drove past her crying next to a pay phone.”

Your shoulders relax, knowing your daughter is at least safe, and your best friends found her. You’ll worry about the state she’s arriving in when she gets here.

Steve leans on the kitchen counter, his head hung between his shoulders and your palm soothes up and down his back, wary of your tone when you start to speak again.

“Okay, let’s not jump to conclusions, alright? She didn’t…she didn’t lie, necessarily. Maybe she just went out with Lindsay for a bit…they’re always being invited to parties. It’s this time of year. And…and we can’t be mad at her for drinking Steve. How many times did we-“

Steve shakes his head and turns to you, hand thrown out towards the front door as his voice rises. “You don’t think that’s the exact problem here, Kate?! I was fucking seventeen not that long ago and I know what the hell she’s doing with Charlie, I mean, christ, babe, we didn’t have her that much older than she is now!“

“Hey, don’t yell at me! I’m not the enemy here!” You shout right back.

You’re glaring at each other, his hands on his hips and yours crossed over your chest and there isn’t a sign of either of you backing down any time soon. But something in his eyes shifts, his chin wobbles a little and you raise your shoulders and clear your throat.

Steve breaks first, falling back against the countertop again as he cups his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“I know,” you whisper, your socked foot nudges his, “It’s gonna be fine, okay? Cause we do this together, right?”

He doesn’t look up at you, but his arm reaches towards you and he’s pulling you into his chest, nestled between his spread legs. He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you, tightly.

Neither of you moves until headlights slice through the sheer curtains of your little bay window in the breakfast nook next to you.

Steve sighs, deep and full of too much stress and he doesn’t let you go till he hears the sound of two car doors.

There’s a light knock on the door, then the creak of it opening, Eddie’s voice calls out, “Guys?”

You’re the first to go assess, and your shoulders tighten when you see your daughter, cowering behind Eddie.

Smudged make up and a top you’ve never seen, a skirt too short for your liking cause it reminds you an awful lot of one you wore that the boys really liked. You can smell the vodka from here and your eyes sting from the tears forcing their way to your lashes when Steve’s breath sucks in behind you with a pained breath of her name.

“Thanks, Eddie,” you clear your throat and nod to him with as much of a smile as you can muster, “Are Annie and Luke…”

Eddie waves a hand and hooks his thumb over his shoulder, “They’re at home hopped up on something Liv told them all was zombie blood but is actually just mountain dew and vanilla ice cream and in front of Hocus Pocus on Disney as we speak.”

Your arms curl around yourself and you smile a little more at that, but it falls as soon as your daughter makes eye contact with you. It’s like every ounce of calm has vanished from you, because now you know she’s here and safe, you can be mad.

Really mad.

Eddie nods once, and pats Nora’s shoulder, gently nudging her forward.

“Thanks Uncle Eddie,” she murmurs.

He kisses her temple and starts to close the door, “Anytime kid. I mean, not anytime. Don’t…anyways…”

He raises his eyebrows at the two of you and the door clicks closed.

Nora covers her chest with her arms and her chin wobbles an awful lot like Steve’s and her mouth parts but you stop her.

“Go to your room, Nora, I don’t…I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

Tears slip past Nora’s lashes at the same time as yours and she shakes her head. “You’re not gonna even let me explain? It’s not what it-“

Your hands fly to your temples, rubbing them as you close your eyes and laugh, “What? It’s not what it looks like?” Eyes open to find hers looking shattered as you keep going, “Cause it looks like my daughter lied to us about what she was doing tonight. If I call Lindsay’s mom, will she even know you were supposed to be there or,” you laugh again, colder, and not at all finding the situation funny, and hold up your hand, “Let me guess, her mom thinks you’re both here and we thought you were there, right? But really you were with Charlie at a party.”

“Mom,” Nora sobs, her hands fall at her sides, “I’m sorry, but-“

“Oh, I’m not done,” your hands land on your hips, adopting your husband’s signature pose along with his hot head, “Cause you know what else it looks like? It looks like you’re wearing clothes I’ve never seen before and I sure as hell didn’t buy for you. And that’s just looks, cause I can smell the vodka from here and-“

“You’re not being fair!” Nora shouts at you, black mascara runs down her cheeks that she swipes at half-heartedly, “I didn’t-“

“I don’t want to hear it young lady!” Your foot practically stomps just like her’s used to, her own tantrums held in this very entryway flashing before your eyes. “What’s not fair is lying like this. You don’t do this Nora. We don’t do this! When have we ever told you couldn’t go to a party? That we wouldn’t pick you up, no questions asked? That you couldn’t see Charlie? That-“

“Right!” Nora screams, her hands thrown up in the air and at you, “Your perfect daughter didn’t do something right, for once in her life! I fucked up, okay? I’m sorry!”

She sobs and you shake your head and start to walk away, “I can’t do this.”

“Mom,” her voice breaks and she sniffles as you head into the kitchen, “Daddy-“

“Nora…just…clean up and go to bed. Please. We’ll talk in the morning.” Steve’s voice is unnaturally calm and you hate him for it.

Your shoulders hunch with the sound of each step of your daughter’s feet on the stairs, your head lands heavy in your hands as your elbows press to the counter-top.

There’s a clink, a pop of a cork, liquid sloshing, and then the distinct grate of glass across the counter top, red wine sits under your face as Steve sighs.

“Well, that went super well I think. A plus parenting, mom.”

Your hands drop from holding your head so you can glare at him.

“Yeah? Thanks for the back up, dad.”

Steve shrugs, he leans against the stove and squints at you, his lips have the nerve to twitch a little like he’s fighting a smile.

“Oh, sorry, was I supposed to talk too? You didn’t really take a breath to let anyone else chime in, hon.”

Your body lifts as does the wine glass to your lips as you throw a hand towards the staircase. After a large swallow of the wine, you accuse, “What is your deal right now? Five minutes ago you were-“

Steve takes a step towards you and grabs the wine glass from you, then he holds your cheeks in both of his hands.

“I’m trying to do that thing you’re always telling me to do, that you normally do so well. Take a deep breath. Relax. Listen. It’s not always what it seems.”

He raises his eyebrows at you and your head falls forward again, though this time in defeat, in embarrassment.

Your forehead is caught by his lips, a kiss pressed there then the top of your head before he tilts you up to look at him again.

“I…” you sigh and look at the stairs, “I should go talk to her again. I should apologize.”

Steve shrugs and kisses you, soft and over too quickly.

“I think she needs some time to cool off too. You can talk in the morning, after you both relax.”

Your eyes narrow at him and his sparkle when you tease, “How many ways have you come up with to kill Charlie?”

“Twenty-seven.”

A laugh leaves you but it’s quick to cut into something that resembles a sob and a sigh, because it’s too real. He pulls you into a hug.

Both of you make no hint of moving anytime soon until Steve whispers, “Wanna start the movie over? We can actually watch it this time.”

Which is a nice thought, but in reality, you just curl up next to each other on the couch and neither one of you really sees the action past the glow of the screen.

You’re both acutely aware of the shower upstairs, the soft music of a stereo, the click of a lamp. Severely aware of the laundry piles addition of clothing reeking of alcohol. Counting down the hours till your daughter wakes up and you’ll try it all over again.

So it’s not a surprise when you fall asleep on the couch, bodies and brains too tired to make it through another hour of the film.

Steve stirs first, the click of the TV and the blue fuzzy screen turning dark startling him in his fitful sleep.

Your head is on the opposite end, legs tangled together with his and hogging the blanket. He tilts his head just make out a figure in the dark, one now quietly sneaking out of the living room and into the kitchen.

Steve holds his breath and stares at the ceiling, listening.

He hears the soft thunk of a drawer closing, the hum of the fridge, the swoosh of a burner and then nothing.

So when he rolls off of the couch as slowly and quietly as he can, and makes his own way to the kitchen, he freezes when he sees his baby girl leaning against the counter, stirring a pot on the stove, not really thinking through his actions and what he’d say when he got here.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispers, avoiding his gaze.

“You didn’t,” he lies. Steve sits at the counter on one of the stools, and lets his chin rest on his fist.

It’s quiet then. Quiet for a long time. Long enough for Nora to pull down two mugs and pour hot cocoa into them. Long enough for her to pass him one, then for both of them to take sips.

Steve doesn’t know what to say, what to do, until Nora opens the fridge and pulls out an apple. Until she pulls a knife from the wood block and starts slicing, the peel remaining intact as she spins the fruit and it furls down to the countertop.

“Who taught you how to do that?” He asks softly.

Nora looks up, surprised, at him, eyes that are so much his blinking right back at him behind wire rimmed glasses. Glasses he remembers telling her she could use to see for late night snacks when she didn’t want to wear them.

“Oh, um, no one,” Nora says quietly, then hesitates, “Well actually, I guess, in a way, mom?”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, lips twitching on one side.

Nora nods, smiling as she gets to the last spin of the fruit, and she hums. Steve watches her eyes get a little glassy, watches her chin wobble just likes yours before she admits, “Yeah. That movie? Sleepless in Seattle?”

Steve smiles at that and nods, exhaling a deep breath as Nora finishes the curl. He knows it well, it’s your favorite movie, and the reason one of his daughters has the name she does. Her fingers toy with the peel, voice tight as she keeps explaining since his silence is letting her.

“Mom was watching it a couple of month’s ago and she…there’s this scene. Where Annie is trying to peel an apple in one long curl and she’s listening to Sam talk about his wife, and love and mom can quote the whole thing. And…and…”

Nora swipes at her eyes as she looks at him, so hurt, so broken as she shrugs her shoulders and she whispers, “It wasn’t magic, dad.”

Steve swallows and he stands up, grabs his little girl as she falls into his arms. So small and only getting smaller and he doesn’t know how to fix it. Nora squeezes him as she sniffles into his chest. His daughter who’s somehow old enough to be crying about love and a guy who broke her heart while she drinks hot cocoa with bunnies on her feet and moons and stars on her pajamas.

“I thought he really cared about me, and when I said no, when I told him I didn’t…that it didn’t feel right and I didn’t want to…he…he…”

Nora hiccups around her tears and Steve’s heart stops beating, his lungs stop working.

“He called me a tease,” she sobs into his chest, “He called me such terrible things. I thought…I thought he really loved me, dad.”

He’d kill this kid Charlie if it was the last thing he did.

Steve doesn’t say anything for a long time, just holds Nora until the front of his shirt isn’t getting freshly wet. So he whispers, “It’ll be magic, someday baby, and you’ll know, okay? It’ll just feel right. And screw that guy. I never liked him anyways.”

Nora laughs into his chest that swells at the sound and he curls her hair behind her ear when she smiles.

“But not until you’re, like, thirty.”

“Dad,” Nora sniffles, she shakes her head and hugs him again. Her voice grows tight again, “I’m sorry I lied about where I was. And I only had one drink. I smelled like that cause these guys spilled a bunch of punch everywhere and-“

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, kissing the top of her head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She hugs him tightly, then whispers, “Love you dad.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

Another squeeze, and then she’s disappearing with her cocoa and apple up the stairs, and his tears finally fall.

And in the morning, when he’s done prepping for a quiet breakfast before all the other kids get home, he climbs the stairs two at a time on the way to wake you.

But Steve finds the bed you’d both finally made it to at around one in the morning empty, and as he walks down the hall, he slows, hearing your voice come from Nora’s room.

“You know we don’t expect you to be perfect, right? If your dad or I made you feel like you can’t mess up or…can’t be a kid, I’m so sorry baby. We rely on you so much with the younger kids and that’s not fair to you at all, is it?”

He watches from a distance, the two of you curled up on Nora’s bed. You sit up right against the headboard, your fingers run through her hair as she hugs you, curled around your waist and chest like she used to when she was little.

Steve doesn’t hear what Nora says but you laugh and run your hand up and down her spine.

He rests his head on the wall and watches you with so much love in his chest, he feels like he might burst. And that’s before Nora asks, “How’d you know?”

And you ask, “Know what, sweetie?”

“That dad was the one? That he was…that it was right?”

Steve smiles as you tilt your head up and blow out your breath.

“Gosh,” you laugh, “That movie kind of gets it, honey. It was a lot of little things. It’s still a lot of things. I fall in love with him for a new reason every single day. The way he always opens the car door for me, or let’s me have the last of the fries. How much he loves and cares about you guys. When he picks up pizza on the way home with flowers. When he yells at the TV when his team doesn’t make the right play. The way he looks at me when I’m telling a story or the way he says my name.”

“Like it’s got all the best letters in it?” Nora asks and you smile.

“Exactly. Even when he’s mad at me, it still sounds like…”

“Magic,” Nora whispers.

“Yeah,” you nod.

Steve raps his knuckles on the door when it’s quiet for awhile, and peeks his head in.

“There’s my girls, anyone want apple cinnamon pancakes?”

Nora shouts a yes and you laugh as she jumps out of her bed and races down the stairs like she used to what feels like a really long time ago.

When you leave her room and touch his arm as you pass, he pulls at your hips, spinning you until you gasp. He catches the sound with his mouth, lips strong and sure in their kiss and saying so much with so little.

“What…what was that for?” Your eyelashes flutter when he pulls away and your stomach fills with a million bouncy balls.

“No reason,” he kisses you again and leaves you standing there breathless, shouting down the stairs to Nora, “You better not be eating that raw batter young lady!”

And later, when the sink’s full of suds and soaking dishes and kids are opening the fridge only to look inside and complain and then open it again two minutes later, or the washing machine is making that weird clunking noise again and Steve’s shouting at one of the kids to get off of the other kid and you’re scrubbing at crayon on the wall, neither of you care.

You aren’t going to take it for granted.

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/6

since there were two of these and I'm late posting, I posted the poll separately, you can find it here

[duskwoodraven]

I feel moved to speak, sooner rather than later because I believe time is of the essence and this needs to be understood in order to keep Moonvale from crumbling to the ground completely.

This is not completely spoiler heavy, but it will discuss the game. I should note that unfortunately I have not finished the episode because I am struggling with the mini games in making progress. So I do not know how the episode ends, but I need to say this in order for me to rest.

I am very angry and disappointed with this game, and even more than that, I hold a great deal of second hand embarrassment for Everbyte.

One of the greatest reasons I respected these developers during Duskwood is that the game never felt like a cash grab like so many games do these days. The option to make a one time payment for complete access to Duskwood was fantastic, an option they should have carried to here and that is the biggest grievance I have.

There is no reason a game should cost hundreds of dollars to experience and enjoy. There is no reason for the prices of gems to be as expensive as they are. This is unacceptable Everbyte, and you should feel ashamed of it, you should know better.

The beauty of Duskwood and what set it apart was its feel of realism and the fact that every question had a reasonable answer. Your use of AI art has cheapened the look of your game, not enhanced it, not to mention it’s insulting to use generated art when there are many artists who are already losing jobs to AI, artists who would have been happy to work with you if given the chance. If the cost of commission is too high, then use of stock photos you had before was just fine, and I believe you should have kept it, I can’t look at Ash and Charlie’s profiles without it striking me as goofy.

Furthermore, the story does not make sense, we were able to read chats because Jake made it possible for us, now it just feels like the return of a gimmick with no explanation, the same with the mini games, in the past we did mini games to “hack” into Hannah’s cloud, now we do it “just because”. It’s lost its feeling of meaning, not to mention most private chats are behind the gem paywall, which we never had to deal with before!

The characters seem more plain to me, or maybe they are loveable but I’ll never know because again, paywall. I can’t read the premium options and get to know them deeper because of it. There are also no profiles like before, which is awful because we can’t look back on past video calls and links and we can’t see what these characters are all about, their personality is gone.

Even MC’s answer options seem blander, more vanilla, repetitive or one directional.

I say this truthfully from my soul, if this was the style of of game you dropped but for Duskwood instead, I never would have played it.

I would have never fallen in love with it.

I would have never made this blog and would never have waited years for every episode and a new game.

I would have never made art and countless theories.

I would have deleted the game immediately.

So I’m asking you, begging you, please change this for our sakes, and especially for yours.

Because despite all my gripes and anger, and everything I’ve said, I know you guys have actually worked hard on this game because the evidence is there, hidden beneath it all.

I love the actual real life people you have for Adam and Eric, I was so moved to help Adam when he started to cry. I want to know why he knows us and wants our help. I laughed when Eric told us he had tripped, and I do want to get to know him. I even wished to lovingly twist Charlie’s neck! That is the game I remember loving, its writing and characters, I can see the potential here.

But you need to change something, otherwise I cannot support this game, I cannot force myself to play it. I will drop Moonvale.

Give the players a one time payment option for 100% complete access to the game, access to all premium options. That’s the least I feel anyone could ask of you and is biggest reason you are getting this backlash.

To my fellow players, if you agree with any of what I said then I ask you not to pay for anything until Everbyte changes to make their game more affordable. Don’t be quiet and please voice your opinions everywhere they can see it. That’s the only way something could change.

I am so sorry this is what we got… you all deserve better.

[sundrop-writes]

My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

The joke's on you - we are salt and you are the wound.

Summary:

Ellie confronts your abuser, and after years of torment, you finally feel free.

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader. Strangers to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort. Can be read with or without considering the canon events.

Word Count: 9,600

The Last of Us Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronounces, the reader is a lesbian/does not date men, themes of abuse and abusive relationships, domestic abuse, ‘love at first sight’ trope, could be considered ‘soulmates’ trope, hurt and comfort, the reader is being abused by a family member and is saved by Ellie,the reader is being emotionally and physically abused by a family member, evidence of emotional manipulation/brainwashing in the reader character, the reader character has injuries from physical abuse, trauma, becoming free from abuse, depictions of violence (fist fighting between Ellie and the abuser), mentions of guns and gun violence, there is elements of Joel and Ellie’s relationship in the background and this could be read with or without considering the canon events (their emotional falling out), mentions of alcohol, drugging someone against their will (done toward the abuser), threatening someone’s genitals with a knife (done toward the abuser), kidnapping and intimidation through violent threats (done toward the abuser), mentions of hanging/choking/suffocation, use of lesphobic slurs (I think ‘rug muncher’ is the only one?) (from the abuser towards Ellie), Joel and Ellie making a kidnapping (and potentially murder) plot together, this has a happy/hopeful ending. 

A/N: Another re-post of a fic I really, really love. This one is particularly deeply personal to me. Whenever I write about the concept of abuse, it’s very emotional for me, but this one has some more personal touches - because it is about abuse coming from a family member and how it can be difficult to part from that because you rely on them for survival and resources that keep you alive. Often times when people think about abuse - or when abusive relationships are modelled in media, it is a romantic relationship, and they display how a person can go from sweet and romantic and turn into a monster, and how it manipulates the victims emotions and makes it difficult for them to leave. And I do think that is an important story to tell, but one equally important - the story of an abuser who is a constant in your life, and makes you dependent on them for survival, and it causes you to rationalise all of their poor actions and behaviour because you need them. You want them to be a good person in your mind because you don’t know how to sustain your life without them.

Another deeply personal touch on this fic - the title. It is titled after a Fall Out Boy song, and you guys might know - I fucking love Fall Out Boy. I feel like all of their songs have a direct cord to my soul. But this one in particular is so special and tender for me. I was struggling with what to title this fic, and I was going through a playlist of songs that I listen to frequently - and this one came up. Although I believe the original intent of this song is about a cheating spouse, for me, it brings up feelings of how I think of my abuser. Especially the lines ‘I’m the kind of kid that can’t let anything go, and you wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up and split your throat’ and 'this is me wishing you in to the worst situations’.

I feel like it is very accurate, because Ellie is someone who is very 'wearing her heart on her sleeve’ and through this fic, she wants to be emotionally detached and leave the situation alone, but she can’t. And it turns her heart into this weapon against her, and ultimately, against the abuser. Because it is only of the fact that she cares so much about y/n that she wants to hurt the guy at all. And it also works to describe y/n’s feelings, because she hates that she has emotional attachment to her abuser, but she does, and it makes her feel as though her heart is a weapon against herself. So yeah. I hope you enjoy this fic, and if you relate to it somehow, I hope you can heal.

...

Ellie didn’t believe in love at first sight. 

She was the type of person who thought it was cheesy - some made-up bullshit built for movies and books to sell people on the type of story that would never actually happen. She founded herself on facts, and though she knew realistically it would never happen in her lifetime, she thought that space travel was far more factual than something like love at first sight. 

Until she met you. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t love - at least not true love - until later on. But there had to be some reason that she stuck her neck out for you like that. There had to be something drawing her to you like that. Maybe it was that fabled invisible string. That unspoken thing that made her want to die and want to kill for you, especially within the first ten minutes of meeting you. 

You were with a group taking refuge in Jackson. In such a small town, rumors were rampant. The group had been in town for less than a day and people were already whispering about whether or not Maria was going to take in such a large number of people on such short notice. 

Personally, Ellie didn’t care. She knew that Jackson had the resources to support new people and she knew that Maria would make the right decision. She was a good leader; she would sense if the group were good enough people to stay or not. She wouldn’t knowingly let in any dangers. 

But then, Ellie started to care very suddenly, very much - when she met you. 

When she saw you, the very first thing she noticed was your smile. She didn’t think she had ever seen someone smile with such intense, genuine joy. It was something that instantly twisted her gut into knots - filled her with those cartoonish butterflies as she took in the sight of you. 

You were standing along the edge of one of the fences, near a small, green pasture for the animals in town. It was a small wooden fence that came up to your hips, around an area that was sectioned off to keep the baby cows in so they could graze. You were leaning on the wooden panels, admiring those little cows with awe, a smile on your face a mile wide as you watched the animals stumble around happily in the field. It was a beautiful spring day, with a light breeze kissing against your skin, and plenty of bright green grass for the cows to snack on. It made the sun seem so much brighter with your smile under it.

Ellie couldn’t help but find herself drawn to you. 

She was supposed to be on her way to return her rifle to the gun shed after patrol. But instead, her feet carried her to you, almost entirely against her will. And soon she found herself standing barely a foot away from you, leaning on that same fence with one hand and staring at you with a big idiotic smile of her own. 

You gave a small jolt when you finally took your eyes off the cows and noticed her staring. Ellie panged with guilt. She hadn’t realized how unintentionally creepy she was being. She didn’t know that it was a programmed response on your part - an ingrained jumpiness that you couldn’t help. 

She swallowed around the dryness in her throat, struggling for words, and she was thankful when you spoke first. 

“You guys have everything here.” You said, bright and excited as you put your eyes back on the grazing pasture. “It’s the first time I’ve seen baby cows before.” 

“We - uh - we also have sheep.” Ellie tripped over herself to say this, shouldering the strap of her rifle to point beyond to a spot where the sheep’s pasture could not be seen. “And there’s greenhouses, and horses. My horse is named Shimmer. You can come and meet her if you want!” 

Ellie almost felt stupid, rushing to say all of this, rushing to impress you. If you liked Jackon’s plentiful resources, then perhaps if she pressed just how fantastic and resource filled the place was, you would want to stay. 

She found herself wanting you to stay. Very badly. 

You bit your lip, slightly shy, and let out a nervous giggle. You didn’t want to turn her down. But years of warnings in a closed off echo chamber had made you weary of strangers. Even seemingly kind ones. 

“That would be nice.” You told her quietly. “Maybe later.” 

Ellie thought she was coming on too strong. She kicked herself internally because of it. 

She had no idea that you were hesitant to be friendly - hesitant to get too close because of the ‘consequences’ you had seen in the past. In your eyes, Ellie seemed like a lovely, friendly person, but you didn’t want to get hurt for trying to make friends. Even if you felt a spark of attraction towards her, you could never pursue it. You didn’t have the room to do so. 

Ellie simply nodded at you, the pain of rejection curling in her gut as she began to walk off. But she stopped dead in her tracks when she heard it. 

Yelling - a brute voice disrupting your peace. 

When Ellie turned around, there was a man. Someone who would have been otherwise average in his looks, if not for the violence he wore so boldly, obviously uncaring of who saw him. His face was tight with anger as he crowded into your personal space, grabbing a hold of your wrist and screaming at you relentlessly as though you had greatly offended him. 

She wondered how someone like you - someone so sweet, who took wonder in baby cows, could ever do something to warrant such a visceral reaction of anger from someone. 

Ellie gripped her rifle tightly. 

A voice in her mind told her that it was none of her business, but another quickly argued back and said that you didn’t deserve to be treated like this. It said that she should step in. She felt frozen as the two sides warred inside her. For a few moments, she simply watched on, taking in the one-sided conflict between you and this man with horror swimming inside of her. 

Your reaction was the worst part. 

Your face immediately shifted from that excitement, awe, and wonder that the baby cows gave you and contorted into pure pain. Tears welled up in your eyes and pure fear overtook your entire body. Your spine coiled up, as if to protect your internal organs, but you made no real moves to get away from this man. 

He spouted at you about ‘wandering off’ and ‘what have I told you before’, ranting on and on as if you had made some horrible mistake by taking time out of your day to admire a grazing pasture full of animals. Ellie was just about to unlock her knees and charge over there to do something about it when a vial, angry eye caught hers over your shoulder. 

“The fuck you lookin’ at?” He barked at Ellie. 

Those simple words were all it took to trigger something in Ellie. 

At a moment’s notice, all of her logic flew out the window, and she found herself consumed by the impulse of her rage instead. She shed off the strap of her rifle, leaving the heavy object on the ground behind her in case it might impede her as she barreled toward the man like a raging bull. 

“Why don’t you tell me, asshole?!” Ellie fired back, entirely nonsensical. 

But both of them, ill-tempered, were beyond talking at that point. 

He stepped around you and went to open his mouth again and Ellie took a swing. She easily made contact with his jaw, but he absorbed it well. Her knuckles stung as she pulled back and landed another hit on his cheek, most definitely leaving a nasty bruise. 

Ellie was caught off guard when a large fist collided with her face. 

She would never be the type to say that men shouldn’t hit women simply on principle. Especially not in this case, because she had swung first. 

She was shocked simply because of the sheer force behind the hit. It wasn’t just to get her off of him - it was vengeful. 

Though her skull was rattled, when he moved his hand up again, Ellie caught his wrist and hit him again. Still feeling that blinding rage, she took him to the ground. His nose felt like mush under her knuckles and she wouldn’t have stopped - if not for someone forcefully pulling her off of him. 

She wanted to yell when she found out that someone was Tommy. But he quickly dampened any of her protests. 

Tommy then gave her a long lecture about ‘first impressions’ and handling her temper during ‘misunderstandings’. He told her that being a part of their family meant that even unintentionally, she represented Jackson as a whole. Regrettably, Ellie felt guilt curling in her stomach because of his words. Even if the guy had it coming, she hated Joel or Tommy looking down on her with disappointment. 

And some time during that long, droning speech, you and that man slipped away. Ellie had a very bad feeling in her gut because of it. 

She had a feeling that he was nothing but a cause of pain for you. 

But of course, she had no outright proof of that. Aside from your tears. But you weren’t even there to tell Tommy your story. And what story was that? That you had been yelled at? How the hell did that substantiate Ellie beating a man up? 

She had nothing more to go on than a gut feeling. 

So rather than telling Tommy about any of the things she suspected, she accepted everything she had said, she apologized for losing her cool, and then (after he gave her a hug, patted her on the head and said ‘it’s okay, kiddo’) - she turned and walked away. 

When she returned her rifle to the gunshed, Jesse asked if something had happened on patrol to cause the bruises on her face and make her expression so sickly, and she quickly shrugged him off. 

Ellie felt intensely guilty for not doing something more. She felt bad for not simply asking you what was wrong, for not handling the situation like a real human being. She had no clue why she couldn’t simply be calm when she saw you so upset like that. 

She didn’t even really know you. She just had a feeling that you were too good to be treated like that. Something deep in her gut was screaming that you did nothing to deserve it. 

The group you came in with split up. Some of them made their way down to the coast with the intention of fishing, perhaps finding and fixing up an old boat, and some of them stayed. 

Ellie took notice when you and the man who had yelled at you stayed. 

She also took notice of the fact that whenever she saw you around town, that man was never very far from you. And whenever he lingered around you, you were much different from the girl she had met that day near the pasture. You were slumped down, never rising to your full posture, constantly tense, and incredibly quiet. You never spoke a single word to anyone other than that awful man. You never even made eye contact with other people. 

Ellie spent weeks watching you from afar, attempting to see if you were okay, looking for some ‘evidence’ that you weren’t. Some hard proof that she could bring to Tommy and Maria, something to show that she wasn’t insane for attacking that man. And it wasn’t until the spring rolled into summer, and Ellie’s bruises from the incident had faded, that she found time to speak to you again. 

There was a time when Ellie caught you without your ugly shadow - when you were by the coops, feeding the chickens, imitating their clucking and laughing to yourself. 

“I think you’ve got a career as a chicken caller.” Ellie chuckled as she walked toward you. 

You smiled when you looked up and saw her. 

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “I just like them because if they say mean things to me, I don’t have to know.” 

Ellie felt a lump rise up in her throat at the pain behind your words. 

It left an awkward, painful silence for a moment before you spoke up again. 

“Look, I’m sorry about before.” You told her. “If you thought you had to defend me, or…” You continued staring at the grainy feed on the ground, pointedly not looking at Ellie. “I piss him off. Often. He was just having a bad day, and I-” 

“That’s no excuse for him to yell at you like that.” Ellie cut you off. She rushed to get the words out, desperate for you to know this at the truth. “He’s got a temper, doesn’t he?” 

“So do you.” You chuckled. It wasn’t genuine laughter. 

There was a twinge of fear in your voice. It made her nauseous. She never wanted you to fear her the same way that you clearly feared that horrible man. 

“I’m sorry.” Ellie said quietly, intense guilt overtaking her. “I do genuinely apologize if I scared you. I just… I couldn’t stand to see you crying like that.” 

“I totally get it.” You snorted, painful humor lingering in your voice. “It’s so annoying. But… sometimes I can’t help it.” Though you kept your voice steady, these simple words spoke volumes of pain. 

Ellie wanted to ask why. She wanted to ask if there were more days when he pushed you to tears. 

“I’m sorry that I’m such a crybaby.” You told her. You tried to laugh this off, as though it was just a funny trait of your personality, and not a fault of pain being inflicted onto you. 

Ellie shook her head vigorously. 

“No.” She quickly corrected you. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Confusion knitted over your features. Ellie fought hard to find the words to explain it. 

“I was angry because he made you cry.” She explained. “I was pissed off because he upset you, and - and, I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know you. But you don’t deserve that.” 

Hearing those words for the first time was a truth so radical it almost tore the ground from underneath your feet. After years of being told that you weren’t worth the trouble - that the food you consumed was a burden, that the bullets used to protect you were a waste - being told for the first time that you didn’t deserve such treatment… you felt like the words didn’t belong in your ears. 

“What?” You looked at her with pure shock overtaking your expression, a most genuine and raw reaction. “You really care that much about me being upset?” 

This gripped Ellie’s insides worse than anything else. You could barely conceptualize someone caring about your feelings this genuinely. 

“Yeah.” She admitted quietly. “I do care.” 

This left your face tight with contemplation, intense thought. Ellie didn’t want to leave room for you to get too caught up in it, for you to overanalyze her genuine gesture. So she came up with something else. 

“So… did you still wanna meet my horse? Maybe we could take her out for a ride?” Ellie posed. 

You seemed hesitant. But eventually, you decided ‘fuck it’ - you might as well have some fun. Especially if it meant spending some time with someone who actually seemed to care about you. 

Ellie took you to the stables and introduced you to Shimmer, and officially introduced you to herself, as you did in return - which seemed odd after all that had happened. But it was nice to finally have a name to go with your pretty face. It was nice to finally hear your laughter as Ellie made an age old joke about hay and horses. 

After you took a while to pet the horse and get acquainted with her, Ellie got permission to go past the gate. She took you on a slow trot on the outskirts of Jackson. She had butterflies curling in her stomach the whole time as you gripped her waist, sitting on the back of the horse, and you smiled brightly and complemented how peaceful everything was. 

When the two of you got back from the ride, you kissed Ellie on the cheek, and she nearly squealed with happiness. 

And then, she didn’t see you for nearly a week afterwards. 

She thought she had done something wrong, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with that awful man who barely let you out of his sight. 

The next time she did see you, you were walking along closely behind that wicked man, your eyes low to the ground. And when she called out your name, you didn’t look up to greet her. 

The sweet summer turned into fall and Ellie felt the guilt gnawing at her more, especially when she noticed the days or even weeks when you didn’t seem to come outside. Days when you didn’t show up to do your chores and were supposedly sick, days when nobody else seemed to care why you were missing. 

There was that voice in her head. ‘She’s just a girl.’ The voice said. ‘It’s just a crush. It’s none of your business. You should just move on.’ 

Ellie couldn’t bring herself to listen to that voice. For some reason, she felt this thing gnawing deep in her gut - something that said you needed her. 

Against her better judgment, Ellie went to the house she knew you were staying at, and knocked on the door. 

She wasn’t surprised when you answered. You peeked through the door with only half your face showing, utterly terrified. 

“What are you doing here?” You barked.

Ellie had a feeling that your anger was a formation of fear, and it wasn’t entirely directed at her. 

“I was worried about you.” Ellie admitted shyly. 

You opened the door further, hesitantly, and then pulled Ellie inside before you shut the door and closed all the locks. Ellie felt her stomach twist when she noticed you looking through the curtains, as though you were afraid for your life, looking out for danger. 

Ellie had a distinct feeling that she knew what that danger was. 

A giant lump formed in Ellie’s throat when you turned around and she saw it - that black eye, swollen and bruised, glaring at her. It was the part of your face you had been blocking with the other half of the door. There were other things she couldn’t see. Scrapes and bruises and hand shapes swats over your arms and torso, covered by your purposefully baggy sweatshirt with long sleeves. 

“Just stop.” You said, turning to Ellie, your voice quaking with the intensity of your emotions. “Stop worrying about me.” 

Ellie’s jaw tensed. She would find that intensely difficult - practically impossible. 

“No.” She easily told you so. “I care about y-” 

“Stop.” You said, a harsh cry in your throat. 

It was too painful for you to consider. The idea that someone sweeter and nicer existed in the world and cared for you. The idea that the way of life you had known for years wasn’t the only way to survive. 

“Look, I like you.” You added on. “You’re really sweet. But you don’t want me. I’m sure you can find someone else-” 

Ellie stepped forward, her fingers brushing so gently over your cheek, right underneath the swelling of that awful black eye. You were so entirely startled by the pure gentleness of the touch that you let out a choked off sound from the back of your throat, almost a sob. 

“He did this to you?” Ellie asked, her voice deadly calm and quiet. 

You refused to answer. 

“Is he your fucking boyfriend?” She prodded, her voice even sharper and more offended now. 

You scoffed, pulling away from her touch. You thought she was jealous of the idea of you having a romantic partner. But in fact, she was deeply offended at the universe, she was in turmoil at the idea that someone would even consider hurting you when they claimed to love you. 

“My brother.” You told her, the word almost sounding like poison on your tongue. “I would never choose someone like him. But I’ve been stuck with him for as long as I can remember.” 

“Oh.” Ellie said quietly. 

It was not a possibility she had considered. But she knew that there had never been any romantic connotations to the interactions between the two of you. Only danger, intimidation, and pain. 

It was almost a worse fate, in a sense. The idea that you had been saddled with him because of genetics, that you couldn’t escape him because of obligation, or being forced to survive together.  

“Yeah, oh.” You repeated, tears clutching the inside of your throat. “And really, it’s none of your business. He’s always taken care of me. He takes care of me, so-” 

“This is not taking care of you.” Ellie argued sharply, gesturing to the mark on your face. “If you need someone to take care of you, I’m right here.” 

You rolled your eyes at this. Again, you thought it was jealousy. That it was her trying to make herself seem appealing as a romantic partner. 

You didn’t know that she was serious, that she would give you the world on a silver platter if given the chance. 

“And I sure as hell won’t hit you.” Ellie added on. 

“That’s easy for you to say.” You scoffed. 

“That’s easy for me to do.” She fired back. “Not beating the people you love is the bare fucking minimum. In case no one ever told you that.” 

Her last words were intensely sharp, but struck a chord deep inside of you. It caused your stomach to churn with harsh realization, something you probably already knew that was brought to the surface and waved in your face:

This was not a life that everyone lived. 

“I can’t do this right now.” You huffed quietly, shaking your head. 

You were still swimming deep in denial, hating the idea that your life was founded entirely on pain. But Ellie would fight through all of that pain to get to you. 

“Come on, how long is it gonna be before he kills you?” She asked, the words quiet but devastatingly striking. 

You remained painfully silent. 

“What kind of life is this for you?” She spoke up when you did not reply. “There’s so much more out there for you that doesn’t involve your asshole brother.” 

“Look, you know nothing about him.” You said sharply. “You don’t know what kind of life he’s had. You don’t know what he’s been through. What we’ve been through. Some of the things he’s saved me from.” 

Ellie could only imagine what was going through your mind. Obviously, she had seen some of the darker things the world was capable of. She knew that if your brother had saved you from some of those horrors, it made him look like a saint by comparison. 

She wanted to scream that you didn’t have to go through this. Life didn’t have to be like this. Absorbing his hits and being a target for his anger wasn’t necessary for your survival. 

“Usually it’s my fault anyway.” You sighed. “I meant what I said before. I have some weird talent for pissing him off.” 

Ellie was downright insulted at this. 

“It is not your fault.” She rushed to say, her throat straining with the intense passion behind the words. 

You found it difficult to believe her. 

Any reply you could have mustered was drowned out by the sound of heavy boots coming up the porch. 

“Get out.” You barked at Ellie, panicked. “Get out, you have to leave.” 

You shoved Ellie out the back door before she could argue, and the sound of more screaming and an ugly collision of a hand on flesh made Ellie clench her fists to avoid charging back inside. She had to tell herself one simple thing - she wouldn’t be able to explain a murder to Maria or Tommy. 

She wouldn’t have to. 

And there was maybe only one other person in town who would understand. 

She went right from your place to Joel’s, and he seemed too pleased about her being there in order for him to really question it. He seemed even more pleased when she asked for his help. 

When Ellie explained the situation, she was surprised that Joel didn’t want to take it to Maria. But they both knew that she was diplomatic. She had an entire town to think of. She couldn’t be chasing down people’s personal problems, and she couldn’t be known for doling out vigilante justice. She had to make people in Jackson feel safe, and she didn’t think that civilian trials and public executions would be the way to do that. And as far as Ellie knew, nobody in Jackson had ever acted up like this before. Maybe they were just good at keeping it a secret. (That thought scared her more than anything.) 

Joel suggested something about a quiet smothering and a shovel. Nobody would ever find the guy’s body, he reasoned. 

Ellie didn’t want it that way. Even if the guy was a piece of shit, he was your only family. She knew that in some fucked up way, you would miss him. 

No - it needed to be his choice. And he wasn’t going to make the right choice on his own. So they had to guide him to it. Well, they had to force him to it and shove his face in the damn right choice. 

And then, if he didn’t make the right choice - then they would go to Joel’s version, a Plan B, and they would get the shovel. 

Her and Joel talked it over for hours, making a solid Plan A. When they were both finally satisfied, Ellie left out the back door to head to her place to finally crash for the night - when had it gotten dark out? 

She paused in her tracks when she saw you standing at the bottom of the few stairs that led up to the porch. 

You had a large sweatshirt hood pulled up over your head, and in the minimal light from the back door’s bulb, Ellie could see that your eyes were entirely startled. Your cheek was sporting a fresh, wicked bruise that hadn’t been there before. Your lip was busted, and you had the neck of the sweater pulled up, half hiding some marks on your neck. 

Clearly your brother had come home furious about something. Perhaps he had seen Ellie leaving. She partially felt guilty about it, and definitely felt more secure in her plan. 

“I - uh - I ran into Dina, and she said I could find you here.” You said, motioning off to where you must have spoken to Dina, muttering nervously because Ellie had been standing there for a few moments staring you down with sadness in her eyes and had not spoken. “I was gonna knock. But… I…” 

‘I got nervous.’ The words were lost on your tongue. You knew it sounded strange. Being afraid to knock. Being afraid to ask for help. 

Ellie walked down the steps to meet you on the ground, and you didn’t move away when she reached up and brushed a gentle thumb across your lip - not quite touching the area when it had been split open, but clearly scorning it in her mind. 

She wanted to suggest something about running away, but she knew Joel would just come after her. The easier solution would simply be to get rid of the awful man who had done this to you. 

You grabbed her wrist and leaned into her hand. She cupped your cheek then, holding you so tenderly that it almost hurt. Your body was so unfamiliar with sweetness, with comfort. 

“I can’t do this.” You sobbed quietly. “Ellie, I can’t do this.” 

You weren’t feeling brave enough to leave the familiar, the thing that bound you in pain and torment. 

“Yes, you can.” Ellie told you firmly. 

She gently tilted your head up, forcing your gaze toward hers. 

“Ask me.” She told you. 

You both knew what it meant. 

‘Ask me for my help.’ 

‘Ask me to get rid of that monster, and I will.’ 

You let it bubble inside of you. The words swelled up inside of your throat, and a wicked sob escaped, causing hot tears to leak down and touch Ellie’s hand before you got it out. 

“Help me.” You croaked. “Please.” 

“I will.” Ellie told you firmly. “I’ll get rid of him.” 

She leaned in then and planted a kiss on your forehead, something sweet enough to render another sob from your throat. When she moved to pull away, you reached around and grabbed the back of her shirt, clutching on tight to keep her there, pulling her into a hug and holding her to savor the precious temporary moment you were able to be away from your tormentor. 

“Ellie?” You said her name, and she hummed a response, still leaning with her lips gently pressed against your forehead. “I know - I know it’s so stupid. But… I don’t want him dead.” You told her. Ellie had predicted as much. “I just… I want him gone.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Ellie assured you. “I understand.” 

By the time Ellie got everything together, the cold was just setting in. 

The first snowfall had just hit Jackson, and she had made sure to keep a close eye on you in the interim. You told her over and over again that you were going to be fine. 

A few times you even went back on your ask, you told her that you and your brother were getting along much better. Ellie’s gut churned on the days when you smiled and told her that things between you and your brother were getting much better, that he was making an effort to control his temper, that you could see him making ‘big changes’. 

On for another fresh wound to show up on you and when she would ask you about it, you broke down crying and declared that it was all your stupid fault. 

Ellie knew that he was never going to change. And it only made her more firm in her convictions to carry through with the plan that she and Joel had carefully laid out. 

Gathering the supplies needed for her plan wasn’t as hard as she originally thought. 

The pharmacy in Jackson was surprisingly easy to steal from. She found a pharmaceutical journal in the library; finding out which drugs could knock out a grown man and memorizing the names of them - not that hard. 

And then Ellie took an easy fall during one of her patrols, wincing and whining about the pain in her twisted wrist far more than she felt it, getting the nurse to unlock the drug cabinet to give her some tylenol with codeine. Then she ‘accidentally’ knocked over a tray with a bunch of stray pieces on it, and she got what she needed out of the unlocked cupboard like clockwork. 

She wasn’t sure if the people in Jackson were naive, or if she was far too used to being a criminal. 

Her wrist had healed up nicely by the time everything else was ready.  

Joel thought it would be wisest that they use his basement. 

He explained to Ellie that they could use an old military technique - shut out all the light, take away anything potentially familiar about the room, make it naked and bare and anonymous so that it would seem like a random place that could be anywhere. 

It would be right in town, but the prospect of seeming so far off, so ‘in the middle of nowhere’ - it would be a good part of the scare tactic. They spent some time cleaning out the basement, putting garbage bags over the windows, and draping the room in plastic tarping - partially to scare him, and partially, just in case. 

Joel got a bottle of cheap whiskey that he watered down some, and Ellie poured out the bottle of pills onto the counter with the intention to crush them all up and mix them with the alcohol. 

“Christ Ellie, that’s enough to take down a goddamn horse.” Joel commented. 

Clearly, it was too many pills. 

Ellie took a handful of them - half, and put them back in the original bottle. When she looked up at Joel again, he shook his head. Still too many? 

“Here, let me.” He said, gently shouldering her out of the way so he could make the mixture himself. 

“You act like you’ve done this before.” She commented. 

“You act surprised that I’ve done this before.” He replied. 

He did have a point. Especially considering that when Joel had met Ellie, he had likely been expecting her to be a large bag of drugs, and not a child who needed to be smuggled. 

Joel put back a much bigger portion of the pills, only leaving four tablets that he began to crush up to be mixed in with the drink. 

“The alcohol is gonna magnify the effects of this stuff. A lot.” Joel explained, emphasizing the last words. “You kept saying you didn’t wanna kill him. So you don’t need to give him an overdose.” 

Ellie nodded. It was a good point. She felt lucky to have his help with this. 

Joel scraped the crushed up tablets - now a powder - into the bottle, and put his thumb over the opening to seal it while he shook it up, making sure it was well dissolved before he put the cap back on. 

“Remember. Pour one for yourself, but don’t fucking drink from it.” Joel reminded her. 

It was a mental tactic. Pour two glasses, so as to not seem suspicious, but don’t take a sip. 

Joel handed her the bottle, and they walked over to your place. 

Ellie made sure that Dina was keeping you busy with spare chores, things she supposedly couldn’t do without your help, ensuring that you would be out of the house for the night and wouldn’t miss your brother gone. Ellie went around to the front door and Joel went to the back, waiting for her signal. 

She knocked on the front door and when your brother answered, she waved the bottle. She apologized for the two of them having gotten off ‘on the wrong foot’ when he first came into town. She claimed that she wanted to set things right with him. 

He looked her up and down with suspicion, but opened the door. He fetched a couple of glasses and Ellie did as Joel instructed - poured one for herself after she poured one for him, took it in her hand, but didn’t sip from it. 

He eagerly knocked the first drink back and Ellie hated the fact that he didn’t pass out right away. He poured himself a second and she forced herself to make an attempt at conversation. 

She asked about one of the pictures he had on the mantle over the fireplace - a framed photo of him and some woman. He grunted, saying that it was ‘his bitch’ but ‘she was dead now’. The way he spoke about women made Ellie want to hurl. This caused the conversation to lull into him asking if Ellie had a boyfriend. 

She shrugged it off. Especially seeing as he didn’t seem like the most accepting type if she told him why she didn’t have one. Then he looked her up and down as though he was inspecting her. As though just because she didn’t have a man in her life, that made her an available prospect for him. Ellie clutched her glass so hard she thought it cracked. 

He took more gulps of his drink, and then he mentioned you. He said that he had seen Ellie talking to you. 

He wasn’t clever about his intentions. He wanted to know why someone who was clearly friendly toward his sister wanted to be on his good side all of a sudden. 

Before she could make up some lie, the drugs kicked in. He became hazy, and made a slurred thought about his liquor tolerance being higher normally before he dropped to the floor, out cold. 

Ellie knocked on the back door for Joel, and they had his unconscious body halfway down the basement stairs when Tommy’s voice came into the house, shouting for Joel. They both gave each other that ‘oh shit’ look and Joel dropped the man’s head like a sack of potatoes. He rushed up the stairs to talk to Tommy before his brother could come to them. 

Ellie dragged the dead weight the rest of the way, and she listened as the voices carried through the house. Joel was getting called out for an emergency patrol route - a large horde of Infected had been spotted near the west watch tower. 

Tommy asked for Ellie too, but Joel lied and said that he hadn’t seen her. 

As Joel was gathering his things to leave, he went to the top of the basement stairs. He gave Ellie one last firm, knowing look. It was an out. She knew that if she wanted to, he would stay back and help her clean up the mess, and they would find some other way to go about things so she wouldn’t have to go it alone. 

But she was firm in her convictions. 

“I’ve got this.” She told him, giving him a nod. 

He nodded back and then closed the basement door. 

She picked a steady beam in the ceiling. 

She dangled off it with her body weight to make sure it wouldn’t budge (even though your asshole brother was probably a good hundred pounds heavier than her). And then she put him in the noose Joel had tied, with the rope tied precariously around the beam. 

She had more than enough slack on it to make sure that he wouldn’t choke while still unconscious from the drugs. As tempting as it was to simply kill the man who had been abusing you for years, this was about scaring him. This was a warning. An attempt to get him to make the right choice. His hands were tied behind his back, making him unable to get away. 

As he came around to consciousness, he began to groan and squirm, and Ellie wasted no time in putting her plan into action. 

She went to where she had the other end of the rope tied, fashioned to some hook that might have been used to hang up tools or something else at one point, and she untied it and hoisted him up. He choked furiously as his breath was cut off by the noose, and Ellie made sure he was far enough off the ground before she grabbed something else important - the stool. 

When preparing, Joel had intentionally cut off two of the legs, making it wobbling and unsteady. She put it underneath him and guided his legs to it, and then he took a wheezing breath as the pressure was released from his neck while his feet wobbled on it unsteadily. 

“What the fuck?” He barked out, obviously trying to sound intimidating when he was so breathless. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You’re fucking insane!” 

Ellie took a step back, looking up at him with a neutral expression. He was entirely powerless. He couldn’t swing and hit her, he couldn’t run. If he jumped, he would hang himself. He was completely at her mercy, and he had to listen to what she had to say. 

In regards to the question, she shrugged. 

“Maybe.” She said simply. “I just wanna talk.” 

“Oh, you wanna talk?!” He growled out the words in anger, still trying to sound lager and more powerful than he was. 

And then, all too predictably, he swung out his leg in an attempt to kick her. 

Ellie easily dodged it, and the motion made him unsteady on the stool. Both his legs fell off, and she simply watched as he struggled, hanging freely by the noose for a few moments. He sputtered and choked, kicking around frantically to get his feet back on the stool. It was a wonder that he didn’t knock it over. 

Eventually, he did get back up to stand on it before he passed out. He continued to choke on the air, veins bulging in his face from the effort. All while Ellie stood back, arms crossed, staring at him condescendingly. 

“That was stupid.” She commented quietly. 

“Fuck you!” He choked out. 

“Look, the way I see it, you have two choices. Maybe three.” Ellie explained. 

He glared at her with absolute poison in his eyes, but remained silent and still, other than the tremors in his legs as he struggled to balance on the stool. 

“Option one: you continue being a petty bitch, so I leave you here.” She told him simply. “You can test your endurance for a few hours, maybe even a few days. But no one will find you, if they come looking at all. And eventually, your legs will give out from exhaustion and you’ll hang.” 

“Y/N will come for me.” He replied confidently. The devilish smirk that spread across his face gave Ellie the urge to smack him. 

“No.” Ellie argued, just as quick, just as confident. “You really think Y/N is gonna be able to find you?” 

This was the mind game Joel had talked about. He was right in Jackson, right under your nose. Would he shout for help, or would he believe that he was out in the middle of nowhere, stranded somewhere that you would never be able to find him? 

His silence was all too telling. Ellie resisted the urge to smile, knowing how important a firm, intimidating face was in this situation. 

“Option two,” She continued on, taking his silence as a sure sign that he didn’t like option one. “You can listen to what I have to say, and you can get agreeable about it real fast.” 

“What’s option three?” He asked. 

Of course, he didn’t like option two either. He didn’t like being agreeable. 

But Ellie had a feeling that in a few minutes, option two would be the one that he’d beg for. 

“You say something I don’t like,” She got her switchblade out of her back pocket, and clicked the switch to show off the sharp, shiny blade. “And then I kill you.” 

There was a pointed moment of silence as he looked between the sharp point of her knife and her unforgiving, deadly calm expression. For a moment, his enraged face wavered, and then came fear. It was just a flicker, but Ellie saw it as weakness. And she was going to exploit it. 

“What the fuck do you want?” He barked. 

“It’s very simple.” Ellie explained. “Leave Y/N the fuck alone. Get your shit, leave town, and get as far away from her as possible.” 

“That’s my sister.” He argued. “That’s my blood. You can’t just expect me to abandon the only family I have, I-” 

“If you respected her as your family, you wouldn’t fucking beat her.” Ellie cut him off, the words turning to poison on her tongue. 

He looked intensely caught in that moment, his expression becoming ghostly. As if he somehow hadn’t figured out that this whole thing was about his abusive ways. 

“What? You don’t like me ‘cause I protect her? ‘Cause I look out for her?” He immediately switched, swelling into that self righteous, taunting person he was with you. “You wanna fuck her, don’t you? You fucking self righteous rug muncher, think you know what’s better for my own sister than I do! What the hell is wrong with you? You-” 

As he ranted, Ellie stepped forward and hesitantly grabbed the waistband of his pants. Clearly, the message wasn’t getting through to him. 

And though it was something more disgusting to her than blood, guts, viscera, even the smell of an old moldy building - Ellie yanked down his pants in one swift movement, trying to ignore the sight of it in front of her. She placed her switchblade right at the spot where his dick met his inner thigh, simply resting it there. 

The feeling of the cold metal in such a sensitive spot easily shut him up. His stomach clenched as he held his breath, likely waiting for Ellie to cut him. 

With him on the stool, it was hovering at around eye level, and she tried her hardest not to look directly at it. For you, it was worth it. That’s what she told herself. 

“Listen carefully,” Ellie told him, her voice still low, still deadly calm. “You are going to agree to my terms, or they’re going to find your body missing this.” She threatened him, gently nudging the blade upwards, not yet cutting into flesh. 

He gasped, shock and horror crashing through his system. He continued to struggle with balancing on the stool, struggling not to lean into the knife by accident and maim himself by mistake. 

He looked at Ellie with terror in his eyes, but oddly enough, he didn’t say anything. Ellie considered it progress. 

“I’m going to be very generous,” She said lowly, making it sound like a threat. “You have twenty four hours to get your shit, and get the hell out of Jackson. I don’t give a fuck what you tell Y/N. In fact, you don’t have to tell her anything at all. Just disappear. I don’t care where you go. Just get the fuck away from here. The farther, the better.” 

Ellie paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. 

“If you’re still in town by sundown tomorrow, I will kill you.” She said. “If you tell Y/N about this little incident, I will kill you. If I see Y/N later and she has a single scratch on her-” 

“You’ll kill me.” He quickly finished off the sentence as he thought she would say it. 

Ellie shook her head, putting on a wicked grin of her own for the first time during the conversation. 

“No.” She said, a chuckle peeking through her voice. “I’ll make it slow. I’ll make you beg for death. I’ll make you wish that you had taken this very fucking generous first offer.”

There was another silence, filled only by the wobbling legs of the stool rocking against the ground, and the man’s anxious breaths. 

Ellie wondered if he was stupid enough to decline her generosity. 

“Okay.” He finally agreed. 

Ellie hoped that she wouldn’t have to follow through on her threats, but she wouldn’t hesitate to. 

She took her knife away from his crotch, leaving a small nick on his inner thigh that would hopefully serve as a good enough reminder of what he was supposed to do. 

Of course, the temptation to hurt him more brutally was there. She knew that if Joel came home and she was covered in blood - he would help her clean up. He would help her hide the body. But Ellie knew that this was about something bigger than herself, her own rage, her own guilt. 

It was about keeping your conscience clean. 

She knew that if you ever found out that she had killed your brother, no matter the reason, no matter the situation - the guilt would fall back onto you. You would spend the rest of your days wondering how you could have done things differently to solve a problem that was never your fault. So she would take the burden of guilt or fault off of you, and force it onto him - where it belonged. He would get to live, but he would never go near you. Not ever again. 

After thinking about all of this for a moment, and calming herself, Ellie unceremoniously cut him down, letting him fall into the middle of the floor with a grunt. She pulled his pants back up and shoved a bag over his head. The bag something else that Joel had woven into the plan - another scare tactic. 

She kept his arms bound behind him as she struggled to lug him all the way across town without getting caught. He struggled against her hold and spoke up every now and then, demanding to be released, but Ellie simply kicked him and told him to shut up. It worked well. It seemed that he was truly afraid of her, because he was much more docile now than the man who had risked hanging himself to kick her in the head. 

She dumped him on the back porch of your house and cut the ties on his wrist. He could feel stupid later for the fact that he had been in town the whole time, not secluded off in the woods someplace you would never find him. He yanked the bag off his head and looked up at Ellie with pure scorn in his eyes, and she held up her knife once more, reminding him just how sharp it was as she left him with some parting words. 

“Sundown. Tomorrow.” She told him firmly. “Or Y/N won’t even find the pieces of you scattered out in those woods.” 

Ellie was surprised when he didn’t say a single word, didn’t even hurl any insults at her back as she walked away. 

She had no idea that he was happy to cut his losses, thinking that you weren’t worth the trouble if Ellie was willing to kidnap, threaten, and eventually kill for you. 

Ellie went to bed early and hoped that everything had worked. 

She woke up from a deep, hazy sleep to pounding on her door. 

She struggled to get out of bed, thinking there was some kind of emergency. She flicked on a light and opened the door, and you came rushing inside. 

Ellie almost didn’t see you through her sleep dulled eyes, her lids still half-closed, but she recognized your voice as she closed the door behind you. 

“My brother is gone.” You said, your voice edging between worry and fear. Ellie thought you might be relieved. She didn’t know that you were still tentative - scared that he might come back, terrified it was a trick. “It’s just - he just packed up all his things, and when I woke up, he was gone. And he left me this note.” 

You thrust a piece of paper into Ellie’s hands, and she blinked her sticky eyes open a few times in order to read it. She scanned over the messy writing, barely absorbing it. It was some bullshit about how Jackson ‘wasn’t right for him’ and he felt ‘suffocated’ and he was going to travel to catch up with your group who had gone to the coast, he thought he was a man of the sea, blah blah - but you needed to stay in Jackson, because it would be safer for you. 

“It’s a trick.” You announced as Ellie read over the words. Your voice quaked, your throat tight with fear. When Ellie looked up, tears were dancing in your eyes. There were sharp scratches on your neck - they were scabbing over, and a greenish bruise on your cheek that was fading. “It’s gotta be a trick. He’s testing me. He wants me to - to follow him? Or he’s coming back, or-” 

Ellie tossed the paper aside, uncaring of where it landed, and then stepped toward you, grasping your face with gentle hands. 

“It’s okay.” She said calmly. “He’s gone.” 

She echoed the words you had said that night, letting you know that she had miraculously granted your request. 

If it was true, then you would consider her a guardian angel. But you almost couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. 

“You did something.” You said quietly. It wasn’t accusing. It was a simple truth. You swallowed thickly. You waited before you asked your next question. “Is he dead?” 

You would have hated to think that Ellie would go through so much trouble to frame his murder as him simply leaving town. 

“Would you hate me if he was?” She replied. 

Strangely enough, you had no clue how to feel. 

Ellie saw the warring on your face, the years of pain tethering in your soul, and hoped to release you from it. 

“He’s alive.” She sighed, a heavy awful truth floating from her lips. You looked somewhat relieved, but then that fear pricked into your big, sad eyes once again. “He’s not coming back. I can promise you that.” 

If he did, Ellie would kill him. But she didn’t speak those words to you. 

You lunged forward then, tightening your hands around her back, squeezing her with intense, passionate ferocity as you pressed your face into her shoulder and began to sob. Ellie held you dutifully, trying her hardest to be gentle with you, petting smoothly over your back as her heart ached at the sound of your cries. She had no idea that it was relief - pure relief exhaling from your lungs, the feeling of finally being able to breathe with the presence of that dark tormentor no longer hanging over your life. 

“Thank you.” You sobbed, clutching onto her shirt. “Thank you, Ellie. Thank you.” 

… 

When Joel came back from his patrol, he asked where Ellie had buried the body. She sighed and told him that the guy had made the wise decision to leave town. Completely of his own accord. He shrugged and said he didn’t care either way - he just wanted to meet the ‘lovely young woman who was worth going through all the trouble for’. 

Ellie invited you over for steaks at Joel’s house a few days later, and artfully dodged all the questions about whether you were dating or not. 

… 

A few months later, when winter thawed out and spring had come around once again, Ellie had taken you beyond the walls of Jackson once again, both of you delighting in the purity of everything nature had to offer, and your newfound freedom. 

“Is it just me or is the air out here… fresher?” You posed, inhaling deeply as you threw your head back, truly basking in the nature around you. 

Ellie giggled at this, and you threw a smile back over your shoulder at her. You walked along the path, bobbing between the trees and enjoying the greenery as it thawed out from the snow. 

“It’s the mountains, there’s nothing but fresh air up here.” Ellie chuckled. “As far as I’m concerned, it beats living in the city. That place stunk to high hell. People piled on top of each other, old rotting buildings, no trees anywhere.” 

You let out a small laugh at this. It wasn’t Ellie’s greatest work in comedy, but your lungs felt much lighter these days, and she soaked up the sound like the new saplings soaking up the sun. 

She had also noticed your choice of attire for the day. For her, there was still that small nip in the air, something indicating that there might be one last frost left to the year, something that made her want to wear a sweater. But you had worn a short sleeved tee shirt with your jeans, and Ellie preened at the fact that there was not a single bruise anywhere on your skin. Some old scars that she could never have the hopes of reversing, but more and more lately, your smile outshined all of them. 

“Ooh, look at this!” Ellie came to crouch at a small patch of grass, what you didn’t recognize as thick reeds that were somewhat special to her. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

“Joel taught me this.” She noted, making you even more intrigued. 

Ellie plucked one out of the dirt, and held it between her two palms before she held it up to her two lips and blew - it made a sharp noise like a duck’s call, and you instantly began giggling at this delightfully strange sound. 

“Okay, how did you do that?” You asked, kneeling down beside her. 

Ellie grabbed up another one and put it in your hands, positioning them well. After a nod from her, you put it to your lips and gave a hard breath. You dissolved into laughter once again when it made that strange sound. 

“I love that.” Ellie commented, absolutely beaming herself. 

“What? You play the guitar but your favorite instrument is grass?” You joked. 

“No.” She replied. “I love that smile.” She told you, motioning up toward your face. “That’s why I fell in love with you.” 

“Els.” You murmured quietly, unable to truly explain the wave of emotion that came over you - being intensely thankful for her saving you, changing the course of your life, the swelling of love you felt for her and how it only grew with time. 

Ellie didn’t need words. She leaned in and kissed you then, and you - for the first time in a long time - relaxed into her love and let yourself be happy. 

From time to time, you were tempted to ask what exactly it was that she had done to make your brother go away. But as the months ticked on and your relationship developed - as Ellie helped you navigate your freedom and enjoy the sweeter things in life, you found that you truly didn’t care.

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot, so please do not ask about a sequel or a continuation for it, because there won't be one. If you liked it and you want to comment on it, please comment on the body of work that I have written. Or feel free to check out the many other works I have written on my TLOU Masterlist. Thank you!!

[yanderecrazysie]

Falsify (Yandere Kita)

This was requested in pms on Quotev! 

Title: Falsify

Pairings: Kita Shinsuke x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, amnesiac reader

Summary: You find yourself stricken with amnesia, but thankfully your loving husband is there for you.

falsify

/verb/

alter (information or evidence) so as to mislead

When you awoke, there was a certain blankness that you felt inside. You didn’t know where you were or even who you were.

The room you were in was small, only really fitting the bed you were lying on and an armchair next to it. The bed was soft, and you found yourself wondering who you shared it with, if there was anyone at all. You lifted your head from the pillow and winced- pain ripped through your head, making you lie back down and let out a soft cry. 

You raised a hand to your head and found bandages wrapped around it. So you had been injured? Was that why you couldn’t remember anything?

The door to the room creaked open suddenly and you jumped in surprise. A man poked his head into the room, his white-and-black hair framing worried brown eyes.

“(Y/n), how are you doing?” his voice was hesitant and quiet, as though he expected you to start yelling at him.

“(Y/n)? Is that my name?” you muttered, pressing your hand against the bandages around your head again. The man’s eyes widened and his mouth parted in shock.

“You… you don’t remember?” he asked, “Do you remember me?”

“No, I’m sorry…” you apologized, “I don’t remember anything.”

The man was quiet for a moment before explaining, “I’m your husband, Kita. You fell down the stairs and hit your head. I was so worried, I thought you had-” he choked up, eyes flooding with tears.

“I’m married?” you wondered, “But I don’t have a ring.”

“It must have fallen off,” Kita said, reaching for your hand, “If I can’t find it, I’ll get you a new one.”

You couldn’t help but notice his ring finger was bare too.

—----------------------

Kita was a doting husband, that much you could admit. He had found the ring that had fallen off your finger and, by God, it had a huge diamond.

He cooked every meal for you, bought you gifts, and took such good care of you. There was only one downside to your relationship with him.

He never let you leave the house.

You offered to go shopping with him, begged him to let you be a part of society once more, but he always had an excuse. Even though your head had healed, he insisted on you “resting”. Which basically meant staying in your room for eternity.

“Why won’t you let me leave the house, Kita?” you asked, swirling your fork through the scrambled eggs he had served for breakfast.

Kita was quiet, sitting across the oak wood table, watching you closely.

“It’s not like I’m going to run away,” you joked. Kita stiffened for a moment before relaxing.

“I know you won’t,” he responded, but offered no explanation, as always. You sighed and slid down in your seat, pushing your half-eaten meal to the side.

Kita frowned at your disappointment, “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“I love you too,” you replied, the words feeling foreign on your tongue, despite the number of times you had said it. He really was an amazing husband, even if he wouldn’t let you leave, so who were you to argue? Everyone had their flaws, Kita’s was just being a little possessive, right?

“Our anniversary is next week,” Kita said, “I was thinking we could go on a vacation.”

“Out of the house?” you gasped.

“Out of the house,” Kita confirmed with a smile. You beamed back at him, he really was the perfect husband.

To Kita, your amnesia was the best thing that had ever happened. Before your accident while trying to escape, you had been so disobedient and furious that he had kidnapped you. Now, you truly believed that the two of you were married, when that wasn’t the case at all.

All he had to do was reward you every once in a while, and you’d stick by his side forever, wouldn’t you? You’d believe his lie because he was all you had.

He could pretend to be the good guy, the loving, doting husband, when the truth was that he was a monster that had torn you away from everything you once knew.

Not that you’d ever find out, if he had his way.