#he's got sick new boots now . look at him. he's so cool | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bimbobaggins69 · 11 months

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Heavy metal parking lot

eddie munson x metal head fem!reader

summary: the last thing you ever expected was to hit it off with a cute guy at a Judas Priest concert, but stranger things have happened.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, all porn almost no plot, no use of y/n, use of pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl etc.), smoking the devils lettuce, queer!eddie, reader has nipple piercings, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation (but eddie is still a simp), oral (m receiving), unprotected rough p in v sex (this is fantasy, pls don’t have unprotected sex with strangers), anal play (f receiving).

notes: just a dirty little one shot. Sorry, there will not be a part two. Thank you to my loves: @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can & @stwritings for beta reading <3 also, blame @bettyfrommars & @xxhellfiregirlxx for me posting this filth on our holy day.

wc: 3.1k

This was a stupid idea, stupid, stupid.

But here you are driving to the market square arena, an hour away from home, dead in the middle of a scorching summer, alone.

You had this elaborate plan for months, ever since you had bought your tickets. You and your best friend Abbee were supposed to meet up at your house, get ready together, go grab some fuel and head to the show a little early to hang out in the parking lot. That unfortunately is not what ended up happening. You got ready…alone, got food…alone and now you’re making the trip…alone.

You can’t be mad at your friend, she did have a very valid excuse as to why she was unable to make it. You couldn’t help but to kick yourself for never being brave enough to put yourself out there and make new friends, but maybe that would change, maybe you would meet some cool people at the show, some Judas Priest fans seemed like the perfect place to start.

The parking lot was jam packed, men and women in all their Judas Priest or Dokken gear, huge banners held out by adoring fans, beer cans littering the lot as weed and cigarette smoke fog the air.

You finally find parking, lucky for you it seems to be the last vacant spot left, squeezed tight between a red Camaro and a brown van.

Better than nothing.

As you exit your black Honda accord, your eyes flit around the lot, taking in your surroundings as you breathe in the second hand smoke.

“Hey, sick shirt.” A gruff voice towards your left calls out. You look around for a second before your eyes finally land on the owner of the van that's parked beside you.

His brown wavy hair gets hit by a gust of wind, as if he’s some hot character in one of those movies that the protagonist is in love with. You definitely couldn’t deny his hotness.

His defenders of the faith shirt clung to his body like a second skin, tight dark blue jeans with a chain adorned his lower half along with white reeboks.

He had a joint perched between his two fingers as his eyes so boldly roamed your figure.

“Thanks,” you acknowledge, as you look down at your ‘hell bent for leather’ cropped tee, and then back up to meet his mischievous smirk. “Yours is sick, too.” You offer in a small but cheerful voice.

“You wanna come smoke with me, pretty girl?” He offers as the mischievous smile grows, like the grinch who stole Christmas.

“Uhh, sure why not?” You shrug, making your way over to the van and taking a seat on the red carpeted floor, your leather mini skirt now hiked up around the very tops of your thighs while your knee high boots hang out the side, resting on the asphalt below you.

“I’m Eddie.” He declares while holding out a heavily ringed hand, you stare it down ogling between his tattoos, black nail polish and badass rings before placing your smaller appendage in his, you firmly shake it with a smile as you tell him your name.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He chuckles before handing you the dwindling joint.

You take a hit while you let your eyes wander around the inside of his van, a small mattress set up with a colorful quilt and two fluffy pillows.

Various magazines of the adult variety scrawled out haphazardly on the floor, a six pack of coors lite sits on the arm rest between the two front seats, breaking the law plays out through the speakers.

Though he’s not the only one, various Judas Priest songs could be heard throughout the stadium's parking lot.

You take another small hit, passing back the now roach sized spliff. Eddie tries to get one more hit out of it, before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it with the toe of his white sneaker.

You begin to stand up with the thought that you may be overstaying your welcome, until Eddie puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to go.” The shy look on his face is the total antithesis of his cocky demeanor when he’d first waved you over.

“Oh, okay. I just didn’t want to bother or keep you from anything.” Your response is sheepish and the butterflies in your belly begin fluttering about.

“No baby, you're not keeping me from anything.” He beams.

That damn nickname pulls you in like a moth to a flame.

As you and Eddie grow better acquainted, you realize he has a great sense of humor with an eccentric personality.

You also quickly realize you want him.

Right here in the back of his van.

You scoot your bottom back, making your way into the wagon. The action causes your skirt to roll up further along your thighs, giving Eddie the perfect glimpse of your black panties.

You swing your feet inside and hoist yourself up on your knees, as graceful as possible. Waddling over like a penguin to fling yourself onto the mattress that had your mind wandering.

“Mmm, this is comfy.” You sigh with a smile, as your body burrows deeper into the off white sheets below you.

Eddie stands just outside the door, eyes unable to leave your backside as you cuddle up on his mattress. ‘Was this his lucky day?’ This shit never happens to him, well at least not with women anyway. He had better luck with men.

Thank you Judas Priest, Eddie silently prays to the sky before making his way inside the vehicle to join you.

“Mind if I lay down?” He mumbles, surprising you with his close proximity.

You turn, catching onto the puppy dog eyes he’s giving you; and what you would give to have them looking down at you while he’s working your body to sweet, sweet release.

“No, of course not.” You giggle, the sound makes Eddie twitch in his pants.

He was a sweet boy, you wanted him to fucking ruin you.

You turn to face him, head resting on your palm as you pat the spot beside you.

The sly smirk returns as he lays down on the mattress, mirroring your exact position.

“Shows gonna start in an hour.” He whispers, scooting in closer towards you, the warmth radiating off of his skin is sending your body into a frenzy.

“Mm, so we have enough time?” You sweetly whisper back.

“Enough time for what? Hmm?” Your bodies continue to gravitate together, a pull so strong it was like you were both attached to magnets.

“For this..” you breathily huff before straddling Eddie’s waist, the groan that escapes him makes your eyes roll back, as you begin to grind down on his growing erection.

“Fuck” Eddie hisses as his hands fall to your waist, now controlling your movements and pulling you in deeper.

“That’s exactly what I intend on doing.” The air gets caught in your throat as a small laugh leaves your lips, your clit catching on rough denim fabric, Eddie swears every time you giggle it’s like an angel gets its wings. It’s sweet and soft, just like you.

You lean in closer, soft plump lips meeting yours in a tangle of tongues, it’s hot and desperate as you are for each other.

Eddie moans into your mouth as your movements get more daring, practically bouncing on his clothed lap. His eyes quickly flicker to your tits as they jiggle with each bounce, it’s clear you’re not wearing a bra, and the idea makes Eddie’s mouth water and his cock stiffen. It feels the hardest it's been since he took a dick in his ass for the very first time. He needs to be inside you and he hopes you're willing to give him that, he’ll do anything for it, at this moment. He feels like a desperate idiot; but he is, he really is so fucking desperate for you.

You immediately notice the way Eddie’s eyes have been trained on the perky slopes of your breasts, with an ever growing smirk you take the hem and hike the shirt up and over your head to be discarded on the red carpet of his van.

“Holy shit!” Eddie practically pants, like a dog who’s out of water.

His decorated hands move up from your hips as they begin to tweak at your nipples, nimble fingers rubbing over the double balled jewelry that sits on each hardened peak.

“Fuck, such pretty tits!” He groans “and they’re pierced, Jesus.” Eddie was enthralled, absolutely fucking enthralled by you.

You lean down, planting soft kisses to Eddie’s long, beautiful neck, leaving behind remenits of your red lipstick and spit soaked bruises.

“Mmm…” he hums as you suck and bite at a spot under his ear lobe.

“Please, fuck me.” You breathily murmur into his ear, before you lift yourself back up using his pecs as leverage, eyes meeting his as you gauge his reaction to your plea.

“You sure, baby?” He whispers before leaving a sloppy kiss to your jaw.

“I’m so sure, please Eddie.” The way you moan his name as you beg for him creates something feral inside of Eddie, his eyes now glazed over into something dark, his jaw tightens as he grabs two rough handfuls of your ass, that are now exposed while your skirt sits carelessly on your lower back.

His right hand slowly glides up your body and into your hair, quickly tightening his fingers around the strands at the base of your neck.

“You want my cock, princess?” He challenges through his teeth.

“Yes, mmhmm, so bad!” You insist with a shout, having your hair pulled has always made you drip between your legs.

“Then go on.. take my cock out, you cock hungry little slut.” He growls as his fingers wrap tighter around your hair before quickly pulling his hand away, he gives your ass one hard spank before he’s back to grabbing at the meat.

You make quick work of his handcuff belt, unbuttoning and swiftly pulling down the zipper before dipping your thumbs into the waistband of both his boxers and jeans and peeling them off, leaving both garments to sit around the tops of his knees.

The sight you’re met with causes you to gasp, he has to be at least 9 inches, it was red and throbbing, wetness from his precum already saturating the mushroom tip.

“Like what you see, baby?” He brags with a smirk that could make Satan himself shiver.

“You’re so pretty, every part of you.” You admit as you lick your bottom lip, with hunger in your eyes.

Eddie wraps a ringed hand around the base of his cock, vulgarly slapping the air with it,

“Where do you want it, huh sweetheart?” His grunt made more slick pool from your needy cunt.

Showing is better than telling, so you plant your knees between his thighs, bringing your face mere inches from his pulsing hard sex.

“Holy fuck, are you gonna—” his eyes roll back as your tongue glides up the underside of his cock, before wrapping your lips around his tip. “No girl has ever given me head.” He huffs while throwing his head back.

You let go of his cock with a wet pop, “no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” You scrunch your face up in confusion, there’s no way he’s never been treated to some head, that would be a travesty.

“I have, j-just not by a-a women.” He stutters out in embarrassment, as his face flushes a bright red that travels down his neck.

It takes you a second to understand what he means, “oh” was all you said, before shrugging and getting back to work on his tip.

He smiles down at you, pulling all of your hair out of your face and holding it together in a makeshift ponytail as he gently guides your head up and down on him, until you’re taking him deeper, so deep your nose is now brushing against the curly hairs at his base, you swallow his tip down before you begin rapidly moving and twisting your head as if a women possessed.

“Oh my— whoa, fuck baby!” He keens into the stuffy air of the van, “your mouth feels so fucking good!” He begins rapidly pumping his hips up, fucking your throat as spit strings fall to his balls, you reach a hand out and begin massaging them, making him growl in pleasure.

“Okay baby, okay angel please, please stop.” Eddie whimpers as he pulls you off of his cock, the spit on your lips remains connected to Eddie’s tip.

He rubs over the messy swollen flesh with the pad of his thumb, as he hums in satisfaction.

“All fours, now.” He commands before shifting up and onto his knees, you crawl further up the mattress, finally laying your head against the sheets that were now dampened by his back, you arch your ass up while making sure your stomach was equally lowered, the position causing your ass to stick out more for him.

“Good girl.” He praised before giving your ass another harsh slap. “Let’s get these off of you.” Eddie slides your black thong over your butt and down your legs, slowly pulling them off from around your feet.

He throws your panties towards the front of the driver's seat, the black fabric lands perfectly on his dashboard. “M’keepin’ those.” He chuckles.

You’re so lost in desire, that someone could’ve told you Rob Halford himself was out signing autographs and you wouldn’t have bat an eyelash or made any attempts to move.

“Fuck, look at these pretty holes.” Eddie groans while running the tips of his fingers from your clit up towards your asshole. “You like getting all of your holes filled, princess?” He smirks at the way your body reacts to him and how loud you moan at his words.

Your ‘yes’ is muffled by the mattress, Eddie’s having none of it.

SLAP!

“Speak up!” He grumbles, before taking both cheeks roughly in his hands and spreading them.

“Yes! I love it!” Your wail has Eddie’s smirk growing more devilish

“I know you do.” He mocks as his middle finger teases your entrance, he causes your body to writhe and groan in desperation by slipping just the tip of his finger in and out of your aching hole.

Finally after all of his teasing, he slips his full finger inside, pumping in and out at a splitting speed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He gasps while resting his head on your backside as he still works you with his finger, finally slipping another one in and scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out.

He hasn’t even fucked you, yet you’re still an incoherent mess as slobber begins to pool on the sheets below your face.

His head starts to slowly move closer to where you’re spread, you gasp and wiggle when you feel his wet tongue slowly lick over your puckered hole.

“Oh fuck!” You blubber, the action making you clench around Eddie’s fingers.

“Mm, oh you like getting your asshole licked?” He scoffs in a teasing tone “it feels good, doesn’t it?”

All you can do is nod and sob into his cheap cologne smelling sheets.

Slowly slipping his fingers out as he moves in closer, replacing his digits with his throbbing cock.

“You ready, princess?” He surveys as he runs his calloused hands up and down your back, gently rubbing at your soft skin.

“Mmhm, I’m ready.” You consent while lifting your head to get a good look at him as he slides into you.

His tip begins breaching your entrance as your eyes remain locked on each other, you and Eddie’s brows are both furrowed and jaws slack as he pushes in deeper.

“Oh, fuck!” Eddie growls as he continues to stretch you out. If he were to die in this very moment, he would die a happy man, the way your pussy is squeezing and choking him; he’s fucked tight assholes, but never a pussy this tight and he thinks it might be his new favorite thing, the way you get so effortlessly wet and the ridges on your walls that stimulate his cock so sensationally. The weed makes his mind go to some weird places; maybe I found some kind of holy grail pussy? He shakes his head of the weird thoughts beginning to plague his mind.

“Yes, right there!” Your screeching brings him back down to this dimension, making him drive deeper and pound harder into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over until you’re shaking underneath him, knees almost buckling at the intense pleasure that is now conquering your body. His fingers are pressed so deep into the skin of your upper thighs, that you’re positive they’ll be bruised by tomorrow.

“Right there?” Eddie mockingly smirks as he hits it over and over with his tip, “that your spot, baby?”

Your “mmhmm” comes out so whiny and desperate, he knew you were close and so was he but he needed to see you fall apart first.

Eddie quickly brings his thumb up to his lips, the calloused finger dipping into his mouth as he sucks, getting it all nice and wet before you feel it prodding your unused hole, he begins thrusting faster as his digit reaches the second knuckle. “Oh my god, you have the tightest fucking holes.” He sounds so out of breath and fucked out by this point, his loud groans, filthy words and extra finger are making you reach that peak of toe curling completion at a hurdling speed.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine as you begin to back up into his thrusts, making his cock and finger hit deeper depths.

“Yes, cum for me baby.” He urges as he’s on the precipice of his own high.

“Yes, yes…” you babble as your body tenses, uncontrollably shaking as you come undone, Eddie’s thumb continues to work your asshole, while he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ll probably ever have.

“I-I’m coming baby, fuck!” Eddie shouts before he pulls himself out of your tight heat, hand maniacally working his cock until his warm seed spurts into your stretched out asshole.

“Holy shit!” He groans while his body falls over yours, you both begin to laugh until you hear someone pound their fist on the side of the van.

“Hey, Eddie—” you gasp at the disturbance, eyes going wide when you catch a glance at the metalhead, “the show's about to start man, everyone’s lining up at the door!” The raspy masculine voice calls out again, before you’re left in silence.

You and Eddie begin frantically getting dressed in hopes to get a good spot in line.

Once out into the fresh summer air, Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, “you wanna watch the show with us, princess?” He proposes with a sweet grin, while lighting a cigarette.

You were right, a Judas Priest concert was the perfect place to make new friends.

taglist:

@michellecrusher @ali-r3n @crybabyddl @definitelynotecho @ajkamins @daniellabrandt @bl4ckt00thgr1n

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie munson fic

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miniwheat77 · 9 months

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Give into me. (König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, rough p in v sex, unprotected sex, König manhandling reader a bit, lot of blood and violence, sex pollen, poorly translated german, (sorry if I missed any.)

This is NOT proofread because I am lazyyyyy. Hope you enjoy :)))))

Your boots make the faintest of sounds as you trek through the forest, it’s dense, the air is cool and it’s humid. It’s something you’ve never experienced before.

You weren’t exactly new to being in the military but you’d had little experience outside of the base considering there wasn’t much war going on as of late, which was a good thing. Until of course another country stuck their nose in business that wasn’t there’s and started one.

You’re in alliance with them, and have to come when they call for you. That’s what friends do.

So here you are, fighting in a war that isn’t yours. In unfamiliar territory. Terrified.

You’re standing close to your Colonel, the massive man is like a shield in front of you. He may be quiet, but he doesn’t hide very easily. He’s a stern man who doesn’t say much. But he offers comfort to you somehow. Being close to him makes you feel better. A whistle leaving his lips has you stopping right in your tracks. Almost running into him. He holds his hand up, motioning for everyone to stop. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, or where you’re even going. You’re frozen, and when the first shot rings out, you freeze.

König crouches down from the shots, retreating into the tree line and yelling orders, watching as his soldiers are taken off guard and ambushed. You’re closest to him, finally snapping out of it and jumping out of the line of fire. König grasps hold of your backpack, tugging you into him. “Stay still.” He breathes.

It’s silent.

Your entire group aside from you and König are dead.

You’re staring in shock.

“Konzentriere dich, sieh mich an” he reaches out, holding onto you. “Focus.” He says it again so you understand. “The only way we’re getting out of this alive is to be completely aware of our surroundings.” He breathes. You nod your head. His accent is strong and it makes your head fuzzy. You can hardly focus, ears still buzzing from the gunshots.

Your eyes trail to your mates, who are all dead now. It makes you sick, but this is the harsh truth about the military. You and König manage to slip away unharmed, creeping your way into their base where they are taking refuge. The only way to infiltrate and win is to be quiet and tactical. König’s stealth and ability to stay hidden surprises you. He’s clearly had years of experience. His heart rate stays the same, never elevates. He doesn’t even seem nervous.

Maybe this was the wrong mission for you to come along on. You follow behind him into the building, he’s equipped with a silencer and a knife, which is how he’s killing each of them.

You can’t deny it, and even in the worst time in the world to find someone attractive, he still is. He’s strong and smart. He’s good at what he does.

“Clear.” He mumbles.

You’ve got a knife in your hand. Covered in blood that may or may not be yours anymore. You don’t know. “They’re hiding something here. Time to find out what it is.” He mumbles. You nod your head, following behind him like a lost puppy. You decide you need to stop, show him that you can handle yourself so you branch off. Viewing a couple of the rooms. You don’t see anything, they look just like normal offices to you. Until you step foot into the last one. Your gun is raised, just in case. Pushing the door open. Your eyes widen. “Uh.. Colonel? I think I found what we’re looking for.” You say. He walks in, eyes going wide when he see it.

There are some rats and rabbits in cages, they’re still in tact but there’s something going on. You take a step closer, looking around. Noticing most of the rats have babies in their cages. You look across paperwork, trying to figure out what it is.

König opens up a filing cabinet, it’s full of small silver briefcases. He takes one of them out, opening it up.

There’s 5 small syringes in the briefcases. Bright blue liquid. “Looks like window cleaner.” You smile. Earning an eye roll from him. “You read anything?” He asks. “Reproductive drug.” You nod. He looks confused. “It’s meant to kick your reproductive system into overdrive, meant for people who struggle to conceive. There’s a lot of money in this.” You look at him. He nods. “verrückte Leute” he mumbles under his breath. “What happened to these ones?” He asks. There’s a few rats dead inside of a cage.

“If you don’t.. conceive. You die.” His eyebrows raise, but you can’t see it because of his mask. “Christ..” he mumbles. It’s silent.

Too silent.

A vent being kicked open from above has you both flinching away, hiding behind furniture in the room. You watch above, worried.

You hear the clinking sounds of something falling into the room, landing right in the center. It explodes and blue smoke fills the room. It sends you and König into a coughing fit, exposing you to the drug you’ve just looked at. “Fuck!” He yells. Drawing his gun and firing up into the ceiling. He hears something collapse up above.

“Bleiben Sie sitzen, Sergeant!” He yells. You know what this means, not moving a muscle. You don’t want to die today. Not like the others. Blood begins to drip from the bullet holes in the ceiling, becoming easier to see as the smoke dissipates. König had eliminated your assailant. You stay still, your body starting to feel warm. “Clear.” König says. “For now.” He breathes. He lowers his gun, fastening it back into its holster on his hip. His hands are getting more and more appealing as time passes. Your blood is pumping through you quickly, the only thing on your mind is what he must taste like. What his skin must feel like.

He snaps in front of your face. “Passt auf” his stern voice is enough to make your knees weak. “Sorry Colonel.” You blush, looking down. “We need to find an antidote. Look around.” He says. He’s starting to feel it too, but it’s moving slower through him because of his massive size.

While sifting through papers, your hands are shaky.

The throbbing between your legs is getting harder and harder to ignore and you’re getting distracted. Eyes following König as he sifts through paperwork.

You’re rocking your hips into the chair beneath you, the warmth becoming harder and harder to ignore. “F-fuck-“ you whimper, which draws his eyes to you.

They widen slightly at your appearance. You’ve shed a layer of clothing, all that was left was your shirt and cargo pants. The rest is discarded somewhere in the room. “Are you okay?” He asks. “No- need to find s-something.” A moan leaves your lips. “Anything.” You whimper. Sliding your hips forward again, body begging for some kind of friction. His pupils darken, feeling himself harden in his pants. He needed to find that fucking antidote. Now.

He’s sorting through paperwork, but not finding anything. As he reads across the papers, the only thing going through his mind is the both of you dying at the tail end of a success, he doesn’t want those soldiers dying in vain, for nothing. He stands up, maybe they needed to look in another room. “Come on, wir schauen uns woanders um” he mumbles, pulling you along. The warmth from his hand has your knees buckling again but you catch yourself as he pulls you along. You’ve lost every bit of control you have. You’re seconds away from shedding your pants and relieving the ache between your legs.

He pushes you back into a chair and you tilt your head back, groaning out. König is sweating under his hood, he’s rock hard. He’s desperately searching through paperwork, looking for anything.

Finally, he gets his hands on a paper.

He reads across the paper, but it’s too late.

There are stages to the drug, and you’re both already passed stage 2, which is when the antidote needs to be administered.

It’s fuck or die now.

König sighs. It’s the only choice the both of you have now. “It’s too late.” He breathes. “What?”

“I found the cure but it has to be given sooner. Too late.” He breathes. “So.. what does that mean?” You breathe. “It means.. we give in. oder wir sterben” he breathes. “Fuck..” you whine. You grasp the hem of your shirt, you can’t take it anymore. You need his hands on you. “König, please.” You breathe. “I know you feel it too.” You pant. He moves closer, kneeling down in front of you. “What do you want me to do?” He breathes. “Just..” you reach for his hand, placing it on your own thigh. “Please- fuck me Colonel.” You mewl, pushing your hips forward. He breathes. He chews on his lips nervously. If he does this, there’s no going back.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, higher. Feeling you tense up, pushing your hips closer to him.

“Scheiß drauf” they’re the only words out of his mouth before he closes the distance between the both of you, pulling you down onto the ground and pushing the chair back away from you. He hovers himself over you, tugging his hood off. Right now, he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was feeling how tight you’d be around him. He tugs his gear off, you start pulling the remainder of your clothes off beneath him as well. Once he’s got himself exposed enough, he’s burying himself into you.

The relief you feel seems impossible, it feels like fireworks are going off in your stomach.

You can’t stay still beneath him, squirming. You can hardly stay quiet.

Despite how desperate he was, König was still on high alert, which is how he managed to hear footsteps. He clamps a hand over your mouth, reaching for his gun. He halts his thrusts for just a second. You rock your hips up into him, he flinches at the pleasure. “Ah- Y/N. Stop it for a second.” When you don’t stop, raising your hips into him over and over for any friction, he groans out. “Verdammt, Liebling” he breathes, just then, a man steps into the doorway. His eyes going wide. “What the fu-“ König pulls the trigger before he can even finish his sentence, throwing his gun down and rocking his hips into yours. He grasps hold of you, lifting you up with him. He stands up straight with you. He backs you up into a wall, holding you steady as he he fucks into you harder. He can’t seem to focus on anything but you. Doesn’t care that he’s just killed a man while he’s buried deep inside of you, and it doesn’t seem like you care much either.

“So desperate.. didn’t even flinch.” He breathes. “dreckiges Mädchen”

He wraps his hands around you, squeezing you tight and holding you still as he rocks his big cock up into your weeping hole. You can’t stay quiet, whining out as he fucks into you. “Colonel, please-“ you whimper. “So so good.”

He bites down onto your shoulder, feeling you tense up in his grasp. Another string of moans leaving your lips. You can’t get enough of him, no matter what.

König feels like he could spend hours inside of you. Rocking his sensitive cock into your hole until neither of you can take anymore. Rubbed raw and sore from the friction. He’s getting close, he can barely handle it. He’s got to make you his. Fill you full of him. He grits his teeth. “Ah! Going to cum-“ he gasps. He sits back into a chair, and you lift yourself up onto him, riding his cock through his high. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you move against him. He cries out, cock twitching hard as he fills you up with his cum. Gasping out at you overstimulating him. You keep riding him, desperate for your own release. He’s sensitive but he’s not the kind of man willing to deny you of an orgasm. Not like this. “Fuck- riding my cock like this.. like a fucking bitch in heat.” He growls. Rocking his hips up into you. Thrusting up as you ride him like your life depends on it.

“Nimm was du willst, I’ll give it to you.” He breathes. A cry leaves your mouth from deep in your throat. One last thrust up from him has you crumbling, sending you spiraling. It’s by far the hardest you’ll ever cum. You raise your hips up once more, sliding back down onto him and halting. Cockwarming him as you sit there, coming down from your high. His hands are still at your hips, gripping you. You’ve still got your head buried into the crook of his neck, panting into him.

When you finally pull away, getting a good look at him, you breathe out. “I’m sorry.” You blush. He smiles. “Nothing to be sorry for. Let’s get the hell out of here, talk later.” He breathes. His English is very blunt, but he’s trying.

You gather up all of your clothing and everything else you’d need, preparing yourselves for exfil. You didn’t know how this was going to work.

As you wait for the exfil chopper, he finally looks at you through his hood. Loving eyes glaring down at you. This mission should’ve never happened. But despite the death toll, despite everything that went wrong. The newfound feelings for your colonel. The baby that was most likely to come from this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #könig x reader #könig #könig fanfiction #könig smut #könig call of duty #könig mw2

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haeigoo · 8 months

Text

Found You (ZCL)

ღ pairing: idol!chenle x fem!reader (ft. jaehyun & jisung)

ღ description: based off a funny chenji incident

ღ word count: 1,562

ღ genre: established relationship, SLIGHT angst & fluff

ღ warnings: kissing, suggestive, swearing

ღ playlist: perfume by nct dojaejung, plot twist by niki, ours by taylor swift & when i met you by apo hiking society

ღ author's note: this is my first official fic that i wrote in years. and its all thanks to my love @lowkeyjaemle for being a huge help in the making of this au, go read her works HERE!

DON'T LIKE? DON'T READ!

You have been dating Chenle for seven months now and it is no surprise to you that your anniversary happens to fall on the same day as their third group comeback, ‘ISTJ.’ Both their managers and fans have not been so forgiving of you ever since your relationship came into fruition. Several complaints made their way to the company of Chenle allegedly taking sick days and leaving rehearsals early to be with you. It got worse when stolen photos of the two of you circulated online like wildfire on the day that he chose to ditch schedules. After New Years’ Day, the management released a statement about enforcing restrictions of all artists under the label from engaging with individuals outside professional relationships to avoid further mishaps that may hinder the flow of the business. This gut-wrenching news isolated you both but you knew exactly what you were getting into when you decided to join him in the public eye.

When the morning of your anniversary came, you were already used to waking up to cold mornings without Chenle. He trusted you enough to look after Daegal while he is at work but not even her presence could cheer you up. You only got to communicate with him through calls and last night, he had reassured you that his group was finishing up. Chenle was staring close through the screen, grinning while he reiterates how much he misses you. You let out a huge sigh before puckering your lips together to say goodbye as you ended the call.

You got up from the master bed and shimmied yourself up to look nice today. As you were showering, something at the back of your mind was eating out at you – How will this be any different from the last? What if I’m just another lost cause?

When you reached over to your closet, you saw the lustrous baby blue Sunday dress that you have been saving up to wear for weeks as it paired neatly with your black combat boots and faux leather handbag that Chenle got you last Christmas. You rushed downstairs to leave the house when suddenly your phone vibrated. It was a text from Chenle, he will unfortunately be working late tonight to make adjustments for the shoot. For a moment, you stood there frozen and stiff as your face dropped and your left hand made a fist. This always happens, you told yourself.

You caught yourself falling into the depths of despair since today was clearly a special occasion. You immediately locked the door behind you and walked outside with a stain in your heart. The cool breeze brushed through the locks of your hair, in the hopes of soothing your troubled soul when you spotted a perfume shop just around the corner. You were greeted by a variety of scents as you gracefully walked through the door of this well-lit establishment. After countless browsing, a Myrrh & Tonka cologne from Jo Malone caught your eye and took a few puffs from the sample available.

You were not notorious for using fragrances and Chenle knew that best. But the thought of wrapping yourself in a fresh bouquet of aromas unfamiliar to Chenle would surely have him by surprise. You picked up a piece and headed towards the cashier whose smile was glistening through the room.

“You find everything to your liking?” Jaehyun asked softly.

“Yup!” You nodded.

“You know, a whiff of this sensational notes of almond and vanilla will have anyone under your spell. May I ask, who’s the lucky man?”

“Zhong Chenle. You couldn’t miss even if you tried, Jaehyun.”

“Right. Well, tell him I said hi!” He chuckled as you bid you farewell.

You left the store feeling accomplished when you gazed upon the vast, hazy sky around you and knew by then, it was already sundown. You had called a taxi and dashed through the car door to hopefully catch Chenle still at the building. The driver had dropped you off just outside when you felt a shiver down your spine.

You took a deep breath as you stepped through the main entrance when your phone started buzzing, an incoming call from Chenle. You shook off your nerves and ignored the needy hollers of your boyfriend. You exited from the elevator and sprinted towards the practice room to find the lawless space empty with plastic bottles and chips scattered messily around the floor. After some time passed, you caught a glimpse of his tumbler across from you and that was the information you needed.

You went to check on the bathroom only to see from your peripheral, a drowsy Chenle with his head buried in his knees. You crouched down as you elevated his face to meet yours when you realized how droopy his eyes were from today’s schedule.

“I’m here, baby.” You exclaimed as you rubbed sweat off his forehead.

“(Y/N)? I’ve been worried sick. You didn’t answer me all day! What’s going with you?” Chenle blurted out.

“Chenle, this whole fiasco got to me! Being away from you was torture itself. So, I came by to surprise you.”

“Baby, having you in my life was the biggest plot twist I could ever ask for. I would replay the very first moment my heart belonged to you.”

“Have you been drinking? I’ve never heard those words before especially coming from you. Well, you better get up before anyone sees you like this!”

When you tapped his shoulders signaling him to stand up, he swiftly grabbed your wrist in lightning speed and dragged you to one of the stalls. Chenle abruptly shuts the door behind him which made a loud thud as he is brimming with excitement. He sits on the toilet seat and spreads his legs like a king on the throne while checking you from top to bottom. Clicking his tongue and smacking his thigh, encouraging you to delicately plop yourself onto him. Chenle had that smug expression wearing nothing but his black sweatpants, GSW T-shirt and white rubber shoes.

“Chenle, you’ll get your ass beat if your manager storms in on us!” You said incredulously.

“Baby girl, they’re never gonna find out because I know how to shut that beautiful mouth of yours.” Chenle remarked confidently with a smirk.

“This is serious, dude. I’m not taking my clothes off, you maniac!”

“Ugh, you’re no fun. Just sit on my lap. I need you close, baby.”

You diligently abide by his request and the next thing you know, Chenle’s hands are in between your thighs which makes you quiver. You promptly frowned at him, refusing to let him near you when all of a sudden, he took one hand away to cup your cheeks and pulled you in a deep, passionate yet sloppy kiss. The hand then travelled down your neck where he tightens his grip, making you scoff out a little cough. The moment you parted with his lips to catch your breath you throw your head back as you were holding onto his shoulders for support when he took notice of your scent.

“Baby, you smell so fucking good. What’d you put on?”

“Jo Malone perfume I bought from Jaehyun. I’ll explain later. You’ve a lot of catching up to do, mister.”

“Whatever you say, princess.” Chenle uttered under his breath as he flashed his signature crescent moon smile.

The further your bodies were intertwined, the more he got captivated by your scent. You completely lost yourself under your boyfriend’s touch when you hear footsteps outside the stall. Stomping loudly towards your direction, your eyes widen and hid your face onto his chest. When you hear the twist of the knob turn, you had already hoped it was his manager to usher you out of this hellhole. Instead, you glanced up to see a tall man hovering the both of you with a confused look plastered on his face. It was Park Jisung, all dressed in black ever so handsomely.

“Sorry, I didn’t know this was occupied. Hi (Y/N)! It’s been so long.” Jisung said as he scratches the back of his scalp.

“Hey, it was a surprise for this guy!” You stated as you tilt your head.

“Excuse me! Jisung, do you mind?” Chenle vocalized, motioning his hands together in a brisk fashion because he was already vexed at his best friend for walking in on you two.

“Yeah, I’m leaving. Bye (Y/N), it was really nice seeing you again!” Jisung responded with a playful wink as he closed the door.

You could sense Chenle fuming behind you, arguably pissed off from Jisung’s remark as you played along. Chenle’s cheeks had never gotten this red before, you could spot his furrowed brows and face flushed when you turned around to see him pouting his lips. This was one of the few times you ever saw your boyfriend sulky and admittedly enough, you found it cute.

“Aww, why the long face?” You said teasingly, pinching his plum cheeks.

“Because you seem to like Jisung more than me.” Chenle muttered defeatedly, shifting his gaze and not meeting yours.

“When we locked eyes for the first time, my heart knew what I needed and it was you. In a million timelines, I’d choose you. Chenle, you’re my north star.” You lovingly affirmed his tense face as you leaned closer and planted one last kiss.

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lokis-army-77 · 11 months

Text

Wander

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 726

Just a short blurb based on the fact that I am the friend that wanders off and I was a leash child of my own choice. (which explains a lot)

Warning: drinking, wandering off

Masterlist

"Where the fuck is she?" Panic filled Eddie's voice as he looked around the bar frantically.

"What?" Asked Steve who had just finished off his fourth drink of the evening.

"My girlfriend. You know the girl that was literally right beside us ten seconds ago." Eddie waited his hands in the empty space between them.

"Oh yeah... I don't know."

"You're useless when you're like this you know?" Eddie shook his head and backed away from the table. Pushing his way through the inebriated crowd, he kept his eyes wide and searched for any glimpse of you.

You weren't on the dance floor and you weren't at the bar. Eddie searched and searched, coming up empty-handed, even after searching both unisex bathrooms. You weren't in the building at all and he was freaking out.

"I fucking take my eyes off her for one second and she wanders off. Jesus Christ." Eddie pulled his hair at the scalp, frustration coming through.

You on the other hand were contently swinging your feet under you as you sat on the high bench just outside the bar. To your right, a stray fluffy dog who placed his head next to your bare legs looking to be pet. You obliged, scratching the top of his head and behind his ears, earning some open-mouthed pants.

"Such a good puppy aren't you?" You cooed at the dog who have a soft bark, almost like he was answering you.

The night air was cool on your skin, a lot of it being exposed by the dress you had chosen to wear on this special night of celebrating your friend finally landing his, what Robin called, "big boy job".

Even though it was cold, it felt better than the sweltering heat inside the bar. And the new fluffy friend made up for the chill as well.

You had been setting outside for a good twenty minutes before the door slammed open and heavily booted feet crunched on the gravel towards you.

"Holy hell, Sweetheart, what the fuck were you thinking? I've been looking for you all over." Eddie's worried voice cut through the night.

You tore your gaze away from the dog to look up at your boyfriend. Smiling you said, "Sorry Eds, just got a little hot s'all." You're words were slurring together thanks to the shots Steve had ordered earlier.

"Baby, you can't just leave without telling me. You had me worried to death."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "I did tell someone, I told Steve."

Eddie shook his head, hand coming to rub down his face with a sigh. "Honey, Steve is drunk, he can't remember what he had for lunch, much less almost half an hour ago. Next time you tell me." He got down on one knee in front of you, one hand coming up to your cheek. "Especially when I'm the only one in the group who's sober."

The dog beside you wagged his tail in excitement at the new person, pushing his head into Eddie's chest. He got what he wanted as Eddie began absent-mindedly petting him with his other hand.

Even though you were drunk you didn't miss the mischievous look Eddie got. Then he turned his eyes toward you and you asked, "What?"

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"Well if you don't stop running from me when you get even the slightest bit tipsy in public, I think we're gonna have to get you a leash."

You gasped. "Eddie no."

"Oh, why not princess?"

"Because leashes are for dogs," you give an exaggerated point to the dog beside you, "and small children who can't be trusted."

"Yeah and who can't be trusted when they've invested alcohol? Hum? You." Eddie's matter-of-fact tone made you huff knowing he was right but you argued anyway.

"I can be trusted."

Eddie raised his eyebrow.

"I mean it."

"Yeah right, Sweetheart. I'll believe it when I see it. But for now, I think you might need one so I can keep my eye on you."

"Well, I think this is some sick fantasy of yours." You giggled when the dog began to lick at your hand to get you to pet him again.

"Oh, you know it, baby." Eddie laughed along. "Now come on, we need to get you and especially Steve home before I end up babysitting you both all night."

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #female reader

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weretheones · 1 year

Text

All You Got | Part 7

Part 7: Burning Out

Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4)

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 5k Warnings: description of injury, infection, and other typical twd content. mentions of death. A/N: oh hi <3 im happy to be back with a new part for you guys. definitely needed that break. I had my last class of university this week and I've just been a bundle of feelings lately. thank you for being so patient and for all the lovely comments lately :) mwah! enjoy

These last few years, the fight had been constant— to find shelter, to defend a friend, to get your next meal. Each day was like a knife at your throat, leaving you to wonder when the blade would finally pierce and bleed you dry.

It was an oddly empty feeling when there was nothing left to do. A gnawing in your gut, like you'd been doing to the raw skin of your thumb the last half hour, as if there was an answer you were forgetting.

You ran through the list for the ninth time. The last of that antibiotic cream. Dressings coated in a layer of honey— Daryl taught you that one. A damp cloth over his forehead. As much ibuprofen as you could give him. You’d done it all. Now there was nothing left to do but wait for the fever to break.

It was miserable.

The room was dark, lit by a single candle. Sometimes it flickered with your occasional sigh. Otherwise, it cast a gentle glow across the small bedroom. You sat in a cushioned chair by the door, five feet from Daryl’s bedside. It had been in the living room until you dragged it in here yesterday, falling into the same routine as you did now. Chin resting in your palm and a lazy stare at the sick man ahead.

It’d gotten bad since that first day. Infection came— of course, it did— and without much more than that antibiotic cream and the rest of the drugs you'd used for your leg, Daryl was forced to fight through it. That meant long, feverish nights like this one.

Waiting.

“Ya jus’ gonna stare at me all night?”

You sat up. His eyes were narrowed into a slit, but open. With only the low flicker of the candle beside you, they almost looked black.

“You’re awake.”

“Guess so,” Daryl mumbled. “Hot as hell in ‘ere.”

He was already stripped of his vest, that flannel he wore on cold nights, and his boots. Yesterday, in one of his steadier moments, you’d dug a simple black t-shirt from the dresser and made him change. It took him a couple of minutes, his shoulder still stiff and swollen with infection. It gave you time to wash his usual sleeveless button-down as best as you could, though a litter of blood stains still dried across the fabric.

As you stepped closer, flickering candle in hand, you could see the damp mark of sweat around his collar, but if anything, the room was cool.

“Your fever’s getting worse.”

You grabbed the cloth from his forehead. It was tepid on the edges, warm where it rested against his skin. Puffy eyes met yours, scanning your serious expression. He’d been asleep for hours. You’d only managed to get a few with that anxious pit in your stomach waking you up, over and over.

“Feel like shit.” He adjusted his spot, sitting up against the pile of pillows behind him with a low groan. You passed him his bottle of water and placed it back after he’d had a few sips.

“How long I been sleepin’?”

“Most of the night.” You sat by his legs. The bed was bare of its thick blanket; you’d torn it off him when his skin started to burn. The top sheet was thin enough that you let him keep it when the chills hit. He kicked it down when the first hot flash came. “You woke up a couple of times.”

“Don’t remember tha’.”

“I figured. You’ve been pretty out of it.”

Daryl nodded, eyes as tired as they’d looked at sunset. Yours must’ve been similarly drained.

“Ya got any sleep yet?”

“A bit,” you said. “I’m fine.”

“Ya don’t look fine.”

You gave him a playful, lopsided grin. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

Daryl huffed, eyes falling to his lap. But your tease had done what it meant: to distract away from the bloom of purple that was, no doubt, forming under your eyes. Those sickening worries about Daryl’s health were already suffocating. You didn’t need the weight of your well-being piled on top.

“You hungry?”

He hummed yes. That was a good sign, you thought, before drifting out of the room.

Dawn was still a few hours away. You walked the dark halls of the house you’d come to know, and a few minutes later, that same candlelight welcomed you back into the bedroom Daryl stayed in. You had a bowl of steaming chicken soup and a half-eaten package of crackers in hand. It was a good thing you’d gone for the bag, after all. If you hadn’t, it would’ve been just another thing to worry about.

His appetite was low, but better than it’d been the last couple of days. There were still three crackers he hadn’t touched and a quarter of soup left, but he seemed adamant about having the rest later. Food was often in such short supply that he wouldn’t dare waste a bite.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

You placed his bowl of leftover soup and the half-eaten package of crackers on the dresser you’d raided for cloth, towel, anything that could be boiled sterile and made into a bandage when that roll of gauze finally ran out after his second dressing change.

Back at his side, you gave him a small smile. “Still feel like shit?”

He chewed his lip. “Shoulder’s throbbin’ somethin’ awful. Head too.”

There was a small bump in his hairline left from that day. He hadn’t caught a concussion, but the fever had been giving him a wicked headache.

“There’s another hour until you can take the next round of painkillers.” You dipped the cloth back into a small bowl of water. Rubbing your thumb along the inches that had become warm, you waited for the fabric to cool. Droplets trickled down as you rang it out, causing ripples to catch in the faint light. It was the only noise in the air, save Daryl’s slow, heavy breaths.

Until you turned and he caught that dispirited expression across your face. It must’ve been particularly obvious; the candlelight barely reached your face at this angle. As you stepped closer, the glow curtained you in delicate gold. An easy warmth that looked quite special painted across your gentle features, even if they were hinted with regret.

The closer you got, the harder his head pounded. No, his heart. Which seemed to echo in his head.

His eyes shifted away when you found that spot next to him again.

“Should save ‘em anyway.”

“No. This is what they’re meant for.”

He huffed as you placed the cloth on his head. As your fingers inched closer to his skin, he blinked rapidly. It wasn’t quite a flinch, but you felt the resistance all the same.

“Still. Might need ‘em later.”

“You need them now,” you challenged. “We’ll have time to find more when you’re better.”

When.

“Guess you’re the boss.”

You scoffed. If anything was in charge, it was that fever.

“Is there anything you can think of that could help? Another pillow or…” You shook your head, not even sure what else you could offer.

He rolled his good shoulder back, biting back a groan as he found a comfortable spot against the bed. “‘M alright.” He nodded, even sparing you the smallest curl of his mouth.

You gave him a bittersweet smile back, fighting the urge to brush his bangs behind his pinkened ear. His cheeks were flushed too, even if he seemed to be retreating back into the warm bed. Perhaps the hot flash was nearing its end.

“You should drink some more. It’ll help.” You handed him the water again.

He took small sips.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later when a distant thump came from the other side of the house, and Daryl didn’t jump up, that you realized just how out of it he was. Thick in the fog of fever and pain, his senses were dull. On the contrary, the twitching in your muscles had started hours ago, a cruel mix of exhaustion and restlessness. It made you more jumpy than sharp, but demanded your attention for every small creak in the house the same.

Your shoulders tensed, and your head snapped to the side.

Daryl noticed that.��

“Wha’?” He grumbled.

A gun sat on the small table next to your chair, next to the book you couldn't read well enough under only candlelight. You stood up and grabbed it, weighing the heavy handle in your palm. You made a mental note to keep your twitching finger off the trigger.

“Stay put. I’m serious,” you told Daryl with a quick stern glance and closed the bedroom door behind you.

The wooden floors whined even under the slowest, steadiest steps you could manage. The hallway was thin, drywall stained with cigarette smoke. There were two doors ahead, one on the right leading to a small linen closet and one on the left that passed into the kitchen. Quietly, you made your way to the general area where the noise had come from, near the kitchen, while raising the gun Ross gave you. The exit to the back porch was there and, fuck, what if someone had snuck in? What if they had a gun and cruel intentions and what if you had to—

Deep breath.

You hovered in the same spot for a second longer, waiting for the drum of your heart to slow. It wasn’t much, but at least you were able to open your eyes without that dizzy fog suffocating you again.

It was only a few more steps to the kitchen’s doorway. With your back to the wall, you reached the hallway’s end and peeked around the corner.

Good thing you only peeked.

A figure caught under the moonlight. It shuffled past the small window, looking out to the side of the house. Shadows cascaded onto the cheap tile floors. Two— three— four walkers stumbled past the wrap-around porch. It reminded you of that first night after the prison fell. How Daryl stood watch all night with nothing but his bow as a herd of the dead moved through the street, surrounding the house he'd dragged you into. All night, you sat on that couch, nursing your hurt leg, watching the dance of their shadows along the walls, and avoiding Daryl’s abrasive stare. Waiting for the moment they finally knocked down the door and took you into their cold fingers first.

This herd didn’t seem as big. Maybe a few dozen. You could only guess from the noise of bodies thumping carelessly into the house’s siding.

Carelessly— that was good. It meant they hadn’t realized you were here yet. Best keep it that way.

Delicately, you snuck back to the small bedroom. The thick curtains were already drawn, and that single candle was soft enough that you weren’t inclined to race back and blow it out.

You opened the door again, and, well, should’ve guessed Daryl would’ve been out of bed, knife in hand and about to open the door himself. The gun slipped into the holster at your belt, and your eyes sought out his. They were uneasy, red-rimmed with dilated pupils.

“It’s just a group of walkers passing by,” you said in a hushed whisper. “Get back in bed.”

“How many?”

“Maybe a couple dozen.” You gently pushed him back toward the bed, twisting the knife out of his grip as you did so. “They didn’t see me, so we can just wait it out.”

“Ya can’t take ‘em all on.”

“That’s why we're gonna stay here and be quiet.”

“You should go.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“If those assholes get in ‘ere, you run,” he said. His voice was hoarse and his accent thicker. “Don’t worry ‘bout me.”

Your brows furrowed. Your whisper was soft, even if pitched with confusion, “Daryl, they don’t know we’re here. They’re not coming in.”

There was a fog in that usual bright blue. It wasn’t from the dim lighting, either. He was dazed.

The back of your palm landed against his forehead. Hot. Then dropped to his chest, just below his collarbones. Your hand laid flat against that black cotton, stretched over the broad expanse of his chest, and felt that same burning underneath. Daryl hadn’t flinched, he seemed to give up that impulse when the fever took control, but his eyes did flicker down to your touch.

You shook your head. “You’re burning up. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Your hand hadn’t fallen off him yet, a lingering touch as the rhythm of his heart became a soft pulse underneath your palm. Gently pressing him back toward the bed, you hushed, “Lie back down. Relax. We’ll be fine.”

He listened. Whatever that outburst had been about seemed to slip away with the cushion of an old mattress underneath him. It felt like a new weight lifted off your shoulders; you weren’t sure if you could sit through a lecture about how you should leave him for dead. After all he’d done, all you’d done, that just wasn’t an option.

You sat beside him again. “Here.” You held a pill in the same palm that’d landed on his chest.

“Thought it was too early?”

“One more isn’t gonna kill you.”

The fever could.

He glanced down at the small blue capsule. “How many left?”

You almost laughed. Feverish, incoherent, and still stubborn.

“Enough. You need them.”

If you told him there were only three more pills in that bottle, he’d refuse. You held your tongue and he tossed them into his mouth. Swallowed, leaned back, and groaned.

“Water?”

“Elderberries,” he muttered. Your brow furrowed, and he gave you a weak shrug. “Hershel used ‘em for the fever, ‘fore we got back.”

Hershel.

You remembered that name. Of course, you did. The Governor had called it out right before he used him as a bargaining chip. Hershel, the man with the long white hair. He’d kneeled in front of that fence, tan shirt damp with sweat and hands tied behind his back. Even tried to reason with the Governor. It was his neck that poured blood, him that inched his way around the cars you were hiding behind when the bullets started flying.

Until the Governor cornered him. Chopped into his neck three times before his head finally rolled across the bloody grass.

The memory made your skin pale, your breathing pause.

A second later, when your vision focused again, Daryl’s eyes were closed. His chest raised and fell with deep breaths, his heavy exhales tickling your clammy skin.

After you’d had a moment to regain your composure, you asked, “‘Got back’?”

You weren’t following his train of thought. It seemed to go beyond the weeks the two of you had shared, reaching into his time spent at the prison. That part of his life had been mostly out of bounds for you. Blocked from the casual conversation you sometimes fell into.

The fever seemed to tear those boundaries down.

“The vet college. We had to— to get the meds for the sick ones,” he muttered under his breath.

The cloth sitting on his forehead had fallen onto the bed, presumably when he’d gotten up to follow you. Your boundaries seemed to slip away, too; you finally brushed away the damp mess of bangs on his forehead, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

There was a part of Daryl that never seemed to let up. It went deeper than stubbornness. He was strong, innately, even when his body was failing him. You knew it took a lot out of him to try and follow you out, and had probably brought on some kind of dizzy spell that was making him spill his guts now.

“Elderberries,” you repeated. “I think I remember. If you make tea, they can help bring down a fever.”

“Mhm.”

“Smart man,” you said under your breath.

He still caught it. Fever and all.

“He was.” Daryl nodded slowly. His eyes seemed to glaze over again. “He was a good man.”

A lump caught in your throat, stealing your voice. That old feeling of guilt sunk into you again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “He didn’t deserve it. None of you did.”

“Should’a kept lookin’.”

It was overdue, you thought. Daryl didn’t seem the patient type, not when it came to his own body, at least. Give him a long hunt, he’d be fine. A wound that kept him bedbound? He was itching for something— anything— to do. The worrisome fact that his family was still out there couldn’t have helped.

You sighed, “We will—”

“For the Governor.”

Oh.

“Maybe if I wouldn’a gave up…”

He sunk deeper into the pillow, mouth moving as incoherent whispers slipped past.

It dawned on you that Daryl was perhaps his most vulnerable right now. Maybe even more so than when you first cleaned his back. In this moment, that surly, reserved man slipped away to leave someone who… who seemed lost. Guilty, like you. His words left you confused, filling in the gaps in his story, his regrets.

He’d been looking for the Governor. If you had to guess, which you did, you’d assume after he killed Merle. Daryl had issues with his brother, no doubt, but he’d proved time and time again to be fiercely loyal. To his brother, his people, even you. Why he’d give that up, you couldn’t say. But Daryl didn’t seem irrational, or disinterested. There had to have been a reason— something— to pull him back.

There was an undeniable part of you that ached to hear more, to let him bare himself to you in ways he hadn’t dared before. Curiosity could prove to be a dangerous thing. The trust between the two of you was fresh. Delicate. Leading him on with questions or letting him ramble in the midst of a daze, could rip it to shreds.

You refolded, then placed the cloth back on his forehead.

“Elderberries,” you whispered again. “I’ll look in the morning.”

The walkers outside were still too close.

It was quiet for a while. Daryl drifted off to sleep quickly and the dead passed thirty minutes after. You curled in the chair again, chin perched in your palm, leaning over the armrest. There was still that gnawing feeling in your gut. Still that worry that you could be doing more— should be.

But exhaustion had dulled caution when the dead passed that half hour ago. Your blinks slowed, moments of darkness stretching into seconds, then minutes, and it became nearly impossible to keep your eyes open.

The last thing you saw was a thin ray of early morning light, slipping between a gap in the curtains. Barely noticeable, until it had landed across Daryl’s face.

It seemed as good a sign as any, you thought, before drifting to sleep.

—

The fever broke the night of the herd. Cups of elderberry tea helped subdue the few symptoms that lingered, and the stream of puss from his wound seemed to reach an end, after all. Four more days passed by and with them, the constant stress and anxiety that plagued you those late nights.

A few more hours of sleep under your belt and life had become calm. Idle, even.

The wind was lazy, its soft huff could barely rustle the fallen leaves. Hues of red, yellow, and anything in between scattered the woods, stretching into the backyard. A sharp crunch under your boot. There was a bite to the air, but the new berries you found had lasted through the weather’s turn.

All those chilly mornings and early sunsets were not in vain; autumn was here, and winter was nearing, too. Though the cottage had been good enough while Daryl healed, it wasn’t suited to become a permanent stay. Certainly not a home. The surrounding trees were too dense, the walls too thin, and it didn’t matter how many strings of cans you set as alarms since the herd passed that night, you couldn’t sleep without one eye open.

Even if it hadn’t been for his people still being out there, you’d have to leave.

With the small bag in one hand, you pulled the first alarm string above your head. It chimed in the wind until it steadied again. It was an effective system; Daryl was opening the back door before you even had a chance to break through the tree line.

You passed into the backyard with a smile.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey. Find anythin’?”

“Just some berries.”

The morning’s sun had drifted away within the last ten or so minutes. It wasn’t much of a shock to find the sky had darkened with heavy-looking clouds.

“We should go in, looks like it's gonna rain,” you said, sliding between his frame and the door.

It didn’t take long to place those buckets around the porch, just past its cover. A couple of empty, uncapped water bottles sat next to them. It didn’t take long for the rain to start, either.

Inside, the small table in the kitchen was homemade. Shoddy work, but it could balance the few candles you’d found in the basement when night came. You picked the berries clean of their stems while Daryl confirmed the findings of your foraging were, in fact, edible.

Maybe at the start, when your brother had found that survivalist book, you would’ve been able to tell. But that got lost a mere month after he found it. Since then, you’d only stuck with the basics. What you knew was safe, without a doubt. That meant you spent a lot of time scavenging abandoned buildings instead of the woods.

Daryl, on the other hand, seemed to know the forest better than anyone. You could assume from that deep accent and the fact that he never cringed at mud on his skin that he wasn’t a city kid. No, he probably grew up in the sticks. The middle of nowhere. In this world, that kind of experience was invaluable. You’d spent many hungry nights, staring at a bush of unrecognizable berries, wondering what could’ve been if you’d had it, too.

By the time the two of you were done, a damp cold settled along the walls. The rain had been pouring down for some time. It wasn’t as harsh as it had started, but the cool, moist air was sinking in. The temperature of the usually feverish sun dropped, hidden behind grey clouds.

Daryl started a fire with that wood you’d found a couple of days ago. The pile was dwindling faster than expected; the nights had been cold. The short flames reached up to the bottom of a pot you’d positioned. You poured some rainwater inside, then tossed in a couple rags to sterilize, and waited for it to reach a boil.

By the time Daryl heard those bubbles begin to break the surface, you had wandered back to that back door, standing with the heat of the fire to your back and the cool breeze brushing across your face.

You heard his steps approach behind you.

“I like the rain.”

Daryl stood at your side, quiet.

“I always loved that smell, too.” You inhaled a deep breath, staring beyond the porch. “Do you remember what that’s called?”

“Nah.” Daryl shook his head. “Jus’ called it rain.”

You grinned. “Well, regardless. I always liked it.”

He watched the rain come down. It soaked the fallen leaves and dampened the soil. The breeze was slow, weaving its way through dripping trees. The roof was a weak material, something cheap and old, and echoed a low patter of rain. It made everything feel softer. Muted.

“Me too.”

You glanced over your shoulder, that grin slipping into a tender smile, kind and sweet. Daryl met your look, felt that bloom of familiarity in his chest, and gestured you to come back in. The cold would become bitter again and inside was warm, so you followed.

He sat by the fire, arms wrapped around bent knees. He’d peeled off his vest, then his flannel, and finally pulled down the left sleeve of his shirt. Just like the first day you checked his wound. You sat behind him, a small pillow under your knees and the freshly boiled rags sitting in a clean bowl to your left.

That little routine the two of you had fallen into— you’d come back to Daryl, who’d help deal with whatever you scavenged that morning, before you cleaned his wound, then ate— came easy. He’d gotten less tense every time you had to face his bare shoulder again. Which was frequent, unfortunately, since the exit wound had proved more troublesome than the smaller entrance.

That heavy pit in your gut at the thought of those scars and their cruelty hadn’t alleviated much though.

“How’s it feeling today?”

“Better.”

You nodded and unwrapped the bandage. The fever had been the height of that infection that hit him a few days ago. During the worst of it, his wound had swelled and reddened, leaking a trail of puss that reminded you why you could have never been a nurse like your brother. Today, the swelling was gone and the redness cleared. It was improving.

“It looks better, too.”

“About time,” Daryl huffed.

On the other hand, his attitude hadn’t improved.

You sighed, “It’s only been a couple of days.”

“’S been a week.”

“You were shot.” You passed the rag along the few dried bits of puss, careful to leave the growing scab undisturbed. “It takes a while to heal from that.”

“We don’t got a while.”

“I know.” Your jaw tightened.

Daryl was becoming more agitated with his rest as the days dragged on. Cabin fever, maybe. It must’ve been especially bothersome for a man like him, someone who seemed to feel more comfortable in the woods than four walls and a roof, to be trapped here. Especially when neither of you had forgotten the whole point of running house to house in the first place— finding his friends.

“But we agreed. You need to let this heal as long as it can before we leave.”

“Trail could’a gone cold by now.”

Even with your eyes on the back of his neck, drifting down the outgrown strands of dark brown hair reaching to the cuff of his shirt, you could almost see him chewing his lip. It turned out that Daryl’s unease had become mixed up with yours some time ago. By now you could feel that stiffness in his muscles, as if it was in you, too.

“It could’ve.” You dropped the last strip of clean cloth back into the bowl. “It could be fine, too.”

Daryl glanced back at you over his shoulder. It made you freeze— he hadn’t offered any attention other than the small talk you shared while you patched him up. Not until now, when those narrow blue eyes burned into you, demanding your attention.

It was almost instinctual, that warm smile you offered. Still, you were sure he could notice that somber look in your eye. The one that remembered the fear and urgency you felt while in pursuit of your brother— before it ended the way it did.

He seemed to notice every hint of emotion that slipped past your grip.

“Dwelling on it won’t help us find them any faster,” you said.

You glanced over his expression, almost leisurely in your inspection. His lips were parted slightly, jaw slack. Though he wasn’t angry, there was a heaviness in the pretty blue of his eyes. Lately, you were realizing that might be permanent.

While it was sweet, your smile didn’t do much to soothe his urgency or frustration. He turned back.

“I can’t keep doin’ nothin’.”

You swallowed, bandaging a clean strip of cloth around his shoulder as the tone shifted.

“Four days ago you could barely get out of bed.” you firmly stated. “And two days ago, you could barely lift your bow.”

“‘M fine now,” he snapped.

“You’re still healing.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care.”

The cloth reached its end and you paused. Going in circles with him was exhausting. It made your stomach flutter with anxiety, too. This routine the two of you had fallen into, something idle and restful, was comfortable. He was comfortable.

Maybe even a friend.

“Well, I do,” you replied. “I guess I like you too much to risk you getting hurt worse.”

Daryl glanced at you from the corner of his eye. Subtle enough that you almost hadn’t noticed.

“Thought we didn’t have to like each other,” he retorted in a lighter tone from his previous.

“It makes things a lot easier, don’t you think?” You smirked. “And if you can’t aim that bow, you’re kinda stuck with me anyway.”

You, like anyone else nowadays, knew what it was like to lose a friend. You certainly didn’t want to lose Daryl— whatever it was you had with him— from perhaps a curse of your own overprotectiveness. It was hard to let someone go back into that dangerous world after you learned how bright their blood ran, but this thing you two shared was fragile. Trusting. If Daryl said he was ready, you had to be willing to give him a chance.

So, with a cautionary glance at his new bandage, you gave in an inch.

“One more day.”

His mouth opened, but you snapped before he could, “It's bad enough we’re leaving while you’re still hurt. I’m not doing it in the middle of a storm, either.”

The rest of the day Daryl was still tense. Emotionally, at least. He practiced picking up his crossbow, balancing the weight in his hands. You packed both bags, boiled and bottled all the water you could carry, and hoped this was the right thing to do. The rain didn’t let up until long past sunset.

When morning finally came and the sun broke through grey clouds, you followed through on your word. Backpacks stuffed full, your boots landed across that empty road and the two of you finally left that little house for good.

-> part 8

A/N: slower part, but I think they need that right now. it can't all be fighting and running and shooting and blah blah. I love these little interactions between them as they grow closer <3 I hope u do too!

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon / you #Daryl Dixon / reader #daryl / you #daryl / reader #twd daryl #twd #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #norman reedus

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sweetsmalldog · 6 months

Text

Castlevania: Nocturne Episode 4 liveblog

If the Abbot doesn’t get a “Lies? In your house of God?” Moment before he gets fucking brutally murdered I’m gonna be so sad

Leave my man alone you sick fuck

I fucking hate the Abbot how does it feel to be the worst of the fucking Forgemasters in the series?

You heartless fucking worm so set in ideas of subjugation that you cannot understand change or freedom or how humanity and good can thrive in the most dire of places

What does Maria half to do with this?

FUCK YOU BITCH

Tera my beloved please don’t defend him he isn’t worth it he sucks so much and is such a fucking piece of shit

Maria being based we love to see it

He’s not a good man Tera

The traumatized mom club is being supportive we love it

Annette my love I’m so sorry

Plans are important Annette please but also that magic line was cold as hell damn

Maria your so based all the time but a plan is necessary or you’ll all die

Did Tera bang the Abbot? Is he Maria’s dad

If he is I’m her new step-dad

Olrox and this dude banged

Olrox is the most sensible person here and that wasn’t what I was expecting to say about the guy who killed the only canon female Belmont since Sonia got decanonized

Also hello that’s his butt

DROLTA!!!!

We’re gonna get a fight in the church basement aren’t we

Drolta looks so fine I love her coat and her the thigh high boots

“Every orifice I possess has teeth” cool

STOP BRINGING MY GIRL JOAN OF ARC INTO THIS

Hi Olrox

Edouard my boy ;-;

HES SINGING

The machine and Olrox and the purple and the singing ooohhhh cinema

The music staying for the fight is fucking haunting

Oh Tera and the Abbot totally banged

The Belmont special “right hooking a creature of darkness”

Drolta please don’t kill my daughter

I’m taking the Abbot’s custody

EDOUARD MY LOVE

FUUCK

As we all know Castlevania is about putting bad bitches against each other so I won’t complain about Drolta vs Annette

Olrox please not now Ritcher’s being cool

Oh no he’s having a panic attack

RUN!!!

People are allowed to be scared Annette not everyone processes trauma the same

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #Sam watches Castlevania

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chungledown-bimothy · 1 year

Note

I haven’t actually been watching D20, I don’t have the attention span for it. Can you recap this season up to the latest episode for me?

oof. um. this isn't gonna be a great recap, but here we go. (this is all from memory god help me i'm sure i'm forgetting things and having to leave out really funny and great bits for length)

sleeping beauty, the frog prince, mother goose, little red riding hood, pinocchio, and puss in boots all met on a caravan to shoeberg. (Destiny's Children is the group name)

shit's Bad and most of them are looking for people they care about and/or answers as to why things are So Bad And So Wrong. but puss in boots and pinocchio are best friends and conning rich people. simply vibing, we love it for them.

mother goose has a magic book (that he got from making wishes with The Gander who is a Force Of Evil trying to resurrect his dead son and he's got one more wish but it'd kill him to make it) that seems to be the key to this whole thing and it can suck people into it and record their stories, and he gets sick new spells when that happens

things go to shit on the caravan, they all end up together and needing to go find a shard of glass that's in cinderella's fairy godmother's chest.

first combat happens, total party kill. they all fucking die. but the frog prince gets the shard, so it's not all bad. they learn that it's a multiverse situation and they all get thrown into a new timeline where things are Worse but they remember each other and what needs to be done. they get red beads and brennan gives NO explanation

well, pinocchio doesn't restart like the others. his stepmom (the stepmom, she's all the stepmoms) is his fuckin warlock patron and instead of him dying and being in a second story he replaces that universe's pinocchio.

they all meet up again and compare notes, turns out a bunch of princesses (including cinderella, snow white, rapunzel, and the beast) are aware of the multiverse thing and how it sucks that they're stuck in stories where they have no agency. plus things are getting So Much Worse. it's unclear what their plan is, but they want to fix how bad everything is (they need seven princesses, including sleeping beauty), whereas the fairies (there are 8 of them) are more or less fine with how things are and want them to stay that way.

they learn that the stepmother is a horrific eldritch being who eats mothers. pinocchio cuts his strings, she's not his patron anymore. (uh-oh, she might hurt his dad about that)

mother goose gets a text on his book from scheherezade, turns out there are other people with books in different universes and they can communicate through it. scheherezade and her companions are stuck and somehow destiny's children fighting a huge fucking spider would help her out? idk i'm arachnophobic i had to skip all that

they go through the book (?) and end up in The Lines Between, which is sick as fuck and sort of... the central hub for the multiverse? it's super fucking cool. they meet scheherezade and aesop (who also has a book).

ally nails a nat 20 and learns that there's Special Ink used by The Authors (shhh don't say that out loud it'll bring Trouble) to write all of everyone's stories.

there are cutbacks and something Really Bad is going on with it all.

they leave scheherezade and aesop and go to explore more, oops the stepmother is here and pissed that they're trying to put things back to normal (she... eats stories? definitely eats mothers)

puss in boots nails a sick nat 20 and pinocchio's patron is now his own story and the concept of destiny itself.

the stepmother yeets them the fuck out of the lines between, they do some sick backstory stuff, learn that the baba yaga's HUGELY powerful and is why the stepmother is as powerful as she is.

they land in a heavily industrialized city. they go find the person in charge, the baron of bricks, and they lean he's got the big bad wolf, who is Death incarnate, chained up because military industrial complex, i guess?

they free the wolf, who says he can get them to the baba yaga, but they decide that first they want to go find snow white. snow white seems chill, says they need more princesses to save the multiverse. so she yeets them the fuck to toy island where they meet the little mermaid

but oops sleeping beauty accidentally triggered a spell that was looking for the little mermaid (princess detector) and fight what was initially him but ended up really being against the terrible dogfish from pinocchio's story. but they beat it, get the little mermaid's voice back, and make their way back to snow white.

they all get there, and the princesses, including the frog prince's estranged wife, reveal that they actually want to fully destroy the entire multiverse. blow it all up to shit using the ink and mother goose's book.

they tried to fuck up their apocalyptic plans by putting cinderella in the book, but it fails. so they have to fucking haul ass out of there, just a little bit of combat almost killed sleeping beauty and the frog prince.

they get out of there, leaving the little mermaid behind, but only then do they realize rapuzel and her freaky ass hair stole mother goose's book. so they're kinda fucked. but they keep running and end up in the land of giants but hey they're the giants

after a really cool combat, they find and free The Golden Goose, the gander's counterpart, and after they also get back mother goose's husband and some of puss in boots' old friends, the goose, because she and mother goose are one and the same in many versions of their stories, makes the third wish and dies in order to get mother goose his book back.

they learn that the princesses have gotten to scheherezade and have her with them and she's also technically a princess, so they now have enough princesses to end everything.

so destiny's children track down the baba yaga to try to get her help. miraculously, pinocchio nat 20s the persuasion check. they all have to give things up to get her help, and it's heart breaking and beautiful and watch The Trials of Baba Yaga.

baba yaga gets them to the lines between, murph rolls TERRIBLY and gives the princesses a head start for the apocalypse. taking us to the most recent episode.

combat with cinderella, snow white, rapunzel, elody (frog prince's estranged wife), the little mermaid, the beast, and scheherezade begins. snow white is doing magic with the ink and it's all about to go to shit.

they talk the little mermaid and elody into being on their side, dispel the magic that was making scheherezade cooperate, and kill the beast, rapunzel, and snow white. leaving just cinderella.

the baba yaga so far has helped destiny's children, but said she's the only one who's gonna survive all this, so. that's ominous.

the episode ends with the fairies showing up in the room. round two is going to begin in the finale next week.

and that's what you missed on glee!

#neverafter #neverafter spoilers #dimension 20

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assassins-and-hidden-blades · 2 years

Note

Hello! Congratulations on your milestone! 🎉 Can I ask for Shay Cormac ficlet with 10th prompt from hurt/comfort list: "Nobody will take you from me again, I promise". I would be very grateful for something angsty! Thank you! 💕

12/09/2022: Hey! Thank you so much! Sorry this took months! Lots of stuff got in the way between then and now! Unluckily, you were the last one for my 1.2k follower celebration that I got to, so you had to wait the longest T_T BUT NO LONGER! Here you are, lovely! Fingers crossed this works.

Warnings: Torture, no beta we die like plants that haven't been watered for three days (dramatically)

Comments, reblogs, and feedback are greatly appreciated!!

Shay Cormac x GN!Reader

"Nobody will take you from me again, I promise."

You should have known something was wrong going into this mess.

The storm brewing in your gut almost made you reach out for Shay's sleeve, tugging him away from the cluttered warehouse and back into the bustling streets where you could slip away unnoticed in the evening crowd.

But you didn't. And now you felt sick.

"Shay?" you whispered, uncomfortable with disturbing the silence.

He reached behind him in response, grasping your hand.

"We should turn back. It feels like we're being watched."

"The only way out is forward, sweetheart," he admitted. As soon as you say the word, Shay would abandon anything for you. Now, though, he only wished you said something earlier. The point of no return sat a long way back; you were in too deep now.

Silent steps. Crouched shadows. Like bats in the rafters.

Upon squeezing his palm for reassurance, Shay's hand was ripped from yours. A startled cry escaped you as a body came barreling into yours, sending you to the floor.

"Y/n!"

You rolled onto your back, pressing your boots into the hips of a looming hooded figure, pushing them away with all the force you could muster. Drawing your pistol, you had barely cocked it before it was kicked out of your hand, the same boot connecting with your cheek.

Dazed, you shook your head to keep the blurred vision away. Shay broke out of the grip of two Assassins and reached out for you. Fingers outstretched, you were within ten inches of each other before a leather toecap connected with your ribs and another Assassin joined the fight in restraining Shay. They worked him down to one knee, but not quite the other. Meanwhile, your arms were wrenched behind your back, cold manacles clicking around your wrists. "Get off of me!" You demanded, struggling under the weight of five people.

"Stand down, Shay." The cocking of your pistol silenced the room. Cheek pressed against the cool stone floor, your gaze snapped between the angered look on Shay's face and the barrel of your own weapon.

"Don't," he warned, eyes narrowing.

"Yield."

Shay looked to you and didn't need to think to make up his mind. Sighing, he forced his body to relax. A hand at his neck pushed his head down; a humiliating bow as iron cuffs were enclosed around his own wrists, melded as one and providing no give. "Good. Search them." The Assassin lowered the pistol as a hand grabbed the collars of your shirt and coat, forcing you to your knees. A blade forced your chin to the sky; you couldn't resist a pat down if you couldn't see where they were looking.

"Nothing on Cormac, mentor."

When your inside pocket rustled, you knew they had found something you really should have left with the rest of your papers. "Correspondence, mentor."

You tried to crane your neck to watch the scene of your reckoning unfold, but the blade wouldn't relent, even after the search. Heat flushed your skin as panic began to set in, eyes searching for any information in the silence.

"This is old news, unfortunately," the Mentor sighed. "However, this plan was on a need-to-know basis. If this correspondence was meant for you..." The blade disappeared, and his face was too close to yours. "What else do you know?" he whispered, though the echoes of the warehouse did nothing to increase his subtlety.

"Those papers are mine," Shay growled. "I'm the one you want!"

"Enough of these games, traitor. You'll get your turn to talk. But for now, let's send this one to interrogation."

"No. No!" He was getting dragged away quicker than he could shake off the shock.

You. Interrogation.

He knew what that meant better than anyone.

"Shay!" You were getting pulled in opposite directions, to opposite sides of the warehouse. Your heart dropped at the thought that you may never see your lover again.

"Y/n!"

----------

Another end to a round of punches left your skin tender to the touch. Your shoulders strained under the weight of your body, suspended not even a foot off the ground by a wooden beam. The manacles pressed against the bones in your wrist, the pressure delivering a constant ache. Sweat drenched your skin, the salt stinging your eyes. It seemed like this cycle had repeated for hours already; you weren't sure how much more you could take.

"The sooner you tell us the details of your latest correspondence, the sooner this can end."

"You mean the sooner you can kill me."

Christ, even talking hurt.

"We may just kill you anyway. Might as well make your life useful while it lasts."

Your vision was starting to spot, your body overwhelmed from the pain. "You're supposed... to be the good side, right?"

"Our cause is true."

"Are you sure? Because I see a lot of the Grandmaster in you, mentor."

The next punch to your ribs set your nerves alight. With fingers decorated in brass, your assailant punctured your skin.

Your vision momentarily darkened as the door burst open.

The impact of punches landing barely passed the blood rushing through your ears, deafening you; it meant you couldn't tell that the hands brushing your cheeks were the gentle ones you had come to love.

Flinching at the sudden touch, your body came to before your mind did, eyes slowly blinking to meet Shay's worried eyes. His lips were moving, yet no sound came out. His brows furrowed, and his actions seemed frantic...

"Y/n? Can you hear me?"

The trace of his thumbs over your cheekbones, the love and concern in his gaze, the worried lilt in his voice...

"Shay? How did you...?"

"Never mind that now." Confirming your lucidity, he moved to find a key to your restraints on the corpses of the Assassins. You watched him, taking note of the red marks around his wrists.

"Are you okay?" you asked.

He sighed, finding the key and breaching your personal space, using his body as a support. The sudden release of the manacles dropped you quickly into his chest, the impact releasing a groan from your lips as pain shot through you, knees buckling.

"Jesus..." He followed you down to the floor, checking you over carefully for other injuries. "What did they do to you?"

"It's nothing. I'm okay. I just... need a second." You rested your forehead against his chest as his fingers ran along your ribs, checking for any breaks or hidden wounds he couldn't see.

For a second, you swore you could hear his heart pound in his chest. "You're bleeding," he breathed.

You didn't realise you had closed your eyes again until you forced them back open. There, Shay's fingertips were reddened with crimson. "It's not serious," you said, breathing heavily. "I'm okay." Nevertheless, one of your arms wrapped around your side to try and stem the bleeding.

It was in these moments of silence where you forgot where you were.

A distant door opened in the warehouse, shouting pouring into the stale air.

Your stomach dropped and you let out a sob before you could stop yourself. "I can't, Shay, I can't..." In your exhaustion, your body took the weight of a dozen boulders. It hurt to move, to breathe, to speak. The situation had wrung your resolve dry, but you couldn't stay here.

"Sweetheart, it's okay, look at me." He brushed your tears away. "Nobody -- nobody -- will take you away from me again, I promise." The determination on his face settled your racing heart. "We will get out of this. Hold on a little longer, and I'll carry you home myself." He smiled as you let out the smallest chuckle. "Come on." He wrapped your free arm around his shoulder. "Let's make a move."

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

Taglist:

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#assassin’s creed #assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed x gn!reader #x reader #shay cormac #shay cormac x reader #shay cormac x gn!reader #1.2k follower celebration #assassin’s creed fanfiction #shay cormac fanfiction

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ac-art-and-stuff · 4 months

Text

It's 2024 so I decided to redesign team LCAF! (I literally started drawing on the 3rd and full hyperfocused on this so hard my arm hurts now)

Starting out with the team's leader, Lillian "Lily Pad" Maria!

She's got new magnetic thigh holsters for her weapons that double as armor! Her side shave has migrated over to the opposite side! She's got piercings now! And I pushed the heart motif as much as I could, with lil heart earrings, heart button, heart kneepads, and heart(ish) toed boots. Also, I made her white waist cape turn sheer with the yellow as the accent rather it being full opaque yellow with white as the accent.

Next we've got Clara Ginger!

She's got an entirely new outfit, and her bag is nowhere to be found! She's got more red in her design to compliment her partner, and she's got some red tint in her glasses now! Plus she's sporting some lip makeup and now she has some sweet lacy gloves, as well as some nice lacy tights! I also took out the brown in her og design since it made the design too busy.

Next it's the partner in question, Adrienne "Enne" Leroux!

The general vibe of her outfit is the same, just a bit more detailed and with gold accents, but I completely redesigned her symbol (to look more like an eye) and her mask! It's now held onto her head by the same logic that holds Adam Taurus's mask and Ilia Amitola's WF mask to their respective faces... ~anime physics~ She's also got some new opera gloves! (also fun fact, when I originally came up with her concept, I didn't realize the author of the original Phantom of the Opera, Gaston Leroux, had the surname Leroux. It was a fun coincidence that I decided to keep ^.^)

And last but certainly the one I redesigned first, Frosk "Fro" Alaguna!

He got a full rehaul of his outfit design (to reflect his 'party animal' personality a bit better) with an open wetsuit top, some sweet wetsuit bottoms, and some sick goggles. Plus, I wanted to be able to show off his top scars (cause they're cool and I subscribe to the idea of stylized top scars are dope as hell). And I gave him a tattoo. For funsies. He's also got a sling thing that I saw on Menagerie extras and I wanted to make it obvious that he's from there since his gills can be overlooked... plus I've decided that it holds his weapons :D

#my art #rwby oc #more about my oc #digital art #leaf team #lcaf #rwby oc team #my ocs my beloved #my oc art #art dump

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girlwifteef · 2 years

Text

“I’m sick of it” James Hetfield x Fem!Reader!

Part 1- TW: Toxic S/O, fighting, abuse (mental and physical), nightmares, and language. (pls lmk if I left anything out in the comments) Pls don’t read this fanfic if any of these fields disturb you ❤️ thanks :3.

Description: Y/N is out and about with her toxic boyfriend and he’s not having it with her. Y/N is also sick of the constant abuse she receives and tried to get away from him. Until one night;

1984 James:

It was a cool Friday night and I just had gotten off of work. After the break up with my now toxic ex-boyfriend, I’ve done everything in my power to get away from him. So much that I had ran to California from Florida to put as much distance between us as possible. From state to state, it seemed like he was just two steps behind me. Now, it’s been a year of silence, it terrifies me.

On that Friday night, I had just completed a 10 hour shift in a nursing gig I picked up straight out of college and I felt like I needed a break. I got in my 1980 chevy cavalier and drove to my apartment. It was a real piece of shit but it’s all I have at the moment, again; broke graduate over here. Once I got home, I changed out of my scrubs into an Anthrax t-shirt, dark blue jeans, a black leather jacket, a pair of combat boots, and rings (incase anyone tried anything) to go out to my favorite bar; Mr. Richie’s Tavern. Coolest non-hotspot in town (in my opinion) to get a drink and a quick bite. Mr. Richie and my dad have been best friends since I was in high school. If I’m having a ruff day, he’ll give me a Sam Adams on the house, real sweet guy.

I pull into the tavern parking and you could tell that it was pretty packed by the amount of cars that had to park on the street.

“What the fuck? It’s never busy like this.”

I said out loud in my car. I just really couldn’t believe my secret spot was out of the bag. I hop out of my cavalier and slam the door so it would lock. It was the only way it would ever since, him.

“Piece of shit car.”

I could barely get through the entrance because of the crowd of people huddled in the front. There was loud and heavy music playing near the back of the bar. It was a band I’ve never heard of: “Metallica”. “Hm. Sounds like the right name.”

They were honestly pretty badass from the few minutes I heard them. I shuffled my way to the bar, pushing and shoving just to get a damn seat. There, I saw the famous, bubbly Mr. Richie. He’s had one or two underground bands perform here, but this was like everybody knew them. Who are they?

“Hey, Rich.” I said.

“Sup’, Y/N/N. Aren’t they rockin’?!” Richie exclaimed.

“Fuck yeah they are! But who are they?” I asked over the roar of the solos.

“Oh! They’re Metallica!”

I rolled my eyes. “No shit, Rich, their band name is everywhere in the bar. I mean, what are their names, who are they?” I asked again.

“OHHH. Well, their rhythm guitarist/singer upfront with the blonde hair is James Hetfield. The guy to his right, that’s totally shredding, is the lead guitarist, Kirk Hammett, I heard he’s new. Then..you….he..”

I honestly wasn’t paying anymore after he said his name, James. Looking up at him, I saw the sweat glistening on his temples from playing in the heat of the bar. He didn’t even have his own band t-shirt on. He had a Motorhead shirt on. They way his fingers slide across the fret board made me feel like I was doing it with him. He sang with so much anger and rage, I loved it. I wanted to get to know them better, mostly their singer.

“Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“When are these guys done?” I was genuinely curious.

“I’d say in about 30 minutes, why?”

“Well, do you mind if I go with you to the back and meet them?”

“Not at all, Y/N/N. What can I get you to drink?”

“Margarita, you know, my usual please.”

“Comin’ up in two shakes.”

“Thanks, Rich.”

Man, if I don’t land a good impression with these guys, I’ll never let it go. Especially blondie over there. END OF PART 1!

A/N: Thank you so much for reading my first fanfic! <3 Yes, Yes, I’m working on part 2 right now and it will be up shortly, feel free to ask me anything. I think after writing this series, I’m going to post what I will and won’t write. Again, thanks so much for reading and tell me what you want to heard and what I need to work on! If you liked it, pls like so I know I did an ok job :) That’s all from me! Have an awesome summer!

#first #your name #james x you #james hetfield #lars ulrich #cliff burton #kirk hammett #heavy rock #heavy angst #heavy metal #metallica #x reader #x you #x female reader #x you fluff #female reader

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hermanunworthy · 8 months

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!DNDADS S2 EP42 SPOILERS!

ep42 live reactions!! LETS GOOOO!!!

- this episode title is so dumb agsjk

- listening to the intro between classes. lets see how this goes

- ITS FUCKING FAMILY GUY. OFC

- OKAY NOW IM ACTUALLY GONNA SIT DOWN AND LISTEN

- idk a lot about dnd classes but the thought of them changing the teens classes makes me sad. taylor is the COOL ANIME LOVING RANGER TEEN!!!

- TAYLOR JUST TAKES AFTER RON NOW LMAO

- TAYLOR SWIFT THE ONE ROGUE HATER IN THE WORLD

- LINCOLN M KICKS ILY SO BAD i actually got scared for a sec that matt was gonna end his soccer dreams. NEVER!!!!

- WILL AT THE PIANO HELP

- beth sounds like shes sick :[ or just really tired but that makes sense bc of the tour

- NEW RON FACT????? OMG

- HOLY SHIT HOLYSHIT SO WE ARE GETTING NPC FACTS OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HWMRIE FACT OH MY GODDDD IM SCREAMIHN

- "is it normal" IM GONNA BE SICK.

- HOLY FUCK. HOLY FUCK. HE REALLY DOES EVERYTHING FOR HIS FUCKINF DAD. THIS IS SOOOOO AAAUGHHGH

- IM NEVER GONNA GET OVER THIS GUYS

- ANTHONY FORGETTING ABOUT HENRY

- NORMAL HELPING HIS FRIENDS W HIS ESSENTIAL OILS MY BABY

- JOEY LUNCHMONEY.

- WILL CAMPOS WHAT DO U HAVE PLANNED FOR HENRY. I AM SHAKING IN MY BOOTS

- NORMAL AND LINC ARGUING OVER WHOSE GRANDPA IS BETTER AWW

- BILLY TALLBOY these are some speaker travis level names

- MATT HEARD "ROLL DANGER" HELPP

- HERMIE MENTION 💪💪 lets hope its the first of many

- LOVING THE NORMAL/LINCOLN DYNAMIC THIS EPISODE

- I FORGOT ABOUT DOOD OOPS

- URINE HEAVEN. that shouldve been the episode title

- MATT DOING THE INSPIRATION CHANT FROM THE LIVE SHOWS KILLED ME FOR SOME REASON

- THE THRONE IS EMPTY. GODS NOT DEAD

- WHY IS PISS SUCH AN ESSENTIAL PART OF THIS SEASON

- looks like boss kicks is going back to being pissfoot again

- HERMIE HOLY FUCK ITS MY GUY

- IS HELL THE BATHROOM???

- ANTHONY AS THE DOLPHIN IS SO GOOD

- I THOUGHT THEY COULDNT GO BACK TO HELL THOUGH

- WAIT WHAT IF THEY SEE TERRY THERE

- WILL SCREAMING "WHAT" IM CRYING

- THIS FUCKING EPISODE MAN LMAOOO

- OH THERES ACTUALLY A SPIRIT HALLOWEEN REALM

- i HOPE they do something w hermie here THEYRE GETTING COSTUMES!!!

- THIS IS MAKING ME SO HYPED FOR HALLOWEEN

- OH NOOO THE COSTUMES ARE PERMANENT

- quite ironic that hermie isnt on board w the costumes thing

- also HERMIE/NORMAL INTERACTION!!! a tiny crumb for me :3

- ELDRITCH BLAST THE PEDOPHILE!!!!

- HERMIE JUST CHEERING THEM ON OFF TO THE SIDE

- LINCOLN MAY BE IN HEAVEN BUT THAT DUDES IN HELL RN MY GOD MULTIPLE DAYS???

- LINCOLNS GONNA FUCKING SNIPE THEM. LIKE FATHER LIKE SON

- LINCOLN IS BLOODIED FROM PISSING WTF IS THIS EPISODE

- DID MATT JUST SAY 16 + 4 = 19

- PISS MAN. IM ACTUALLY CRYING

- A SMOOTHIE?????(

- IM LAUGHING SM IT ACTUALLY HURTS

- NORMAL. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

- HOW DID DARRYL DIE.

- HE FELL WHILE TAKING DOWN CHRISTMAS LIGHTS. WHY AM I ACTUALLY LEGITIMATELY CRYING

- DARNELL FOUND HIM???

- HE KEEPS THE LIGHTS UP FOR GLENN. WAAAAAA

- they couldve talked to glenn while they were in hell..

- WHAT IS W THE NOODLES!!!

- THEYRE ABOUT TO SEE DARRYL AGAIN. OH MY GOD

- HES WAITING FOR HIS FAMILY AND GETTING EVERYTHING READY FOR THEM OH GOD IM GONNA CRY AGAIN

- GEANT. GRANT

- DARRYL GETTING ALL EXCITED TO SEE RON AGAIN I CANT STOP CRYING

- THEYRE GOING BACK TO GRANTS WEDDING DAY I CANT DO THIS

- "i cant be a dad" "i cant trust his judgement all the time bc he chose me" I AM GOING TO KMS

- GRANT WAS GONNA CALL OFF THE WEDDING BC HE CANT LOVE HIMSELF.

- SCAM????

- WAIT WHAT

- WHAT JUST HAPPENED

- I. WHAT RHE FUUUUCK WAS THAT EPISODE

- OKAY IM SO CONFUSED BY THAT BUT THAT WHOLE EPISODE WAS SO GOOD. I CRIED SM. FROM LAUGHTER AND SADNESS. WOW

#dndads #dndads spoilers #dndads s2 spoilers #siren says

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angelltheninth · 2 years

Text

Kiramman Jealousy

Pairing: Caitlyn x Vi

Tags: nsfw, smut, fingering, grinding, jealous Caitlyn

Word count: 1.8k

Ao3

A/N: Finally got the motivation to write more of these two, hope you all like it. I've been wanting to write jealous Caitlyn for a while tbh.

Caitlyn Kiramman wasn’t jealous. She wasn’t angry. She was fucking pissed off, fuming, shooting daggers instead of bullets. This was supposed to be a fun party, a time to relax and unwind. That was the plan.

“If you stare any harder you’re actually gonna burn a hole though them.” Jayce sidestepped next to Caitlyn, “Champagne?” He offered, amused.

“No thank you.” Caitlyn barely spared him a glance before her eyes were fixed back on Vi.

Vi with her hair slightly slicked back but still so damn messy and falling over her eyes. Vi, in her suit with her sleeves ripped off, showing her damn biceps and tattoos. Vi who smiled at the girls practically drooling over her like dogs in heat.

And why was Vi enjoying the attention? Smiling at all of them like that, entertaining them. Caitlyn was in her fair share of relationships before, some of them were flings others more serious, but none of those girls made her feel as strong about them as Vi. Vi was special, she was precious to Caitlyn. So Caitlyn decided to do the only sensible thing. Assert her dominance.

“Don’t break any necks and keep your cool. That’s how Mel and I ended up together.” He nodded to himself, looking very pleased with himself.

“Oh please. Mel told me all about it. If she didn’t make the first move you’d still be dancing around each other. Even Viktor was sick if it all. And she also told me that her mom made you shake in your boots.” Caitlyn smirked at him, remembering how embarrassed he got when Mel mentioned that incident.

”Ah, excuse me, have you seen Mel’s mother? The woman could probably crush my head with her fist. And I could have made the first move, I was only being a gentleman.” Jayce crossed his arms over his chest, a small puppy-like pout on his face as he looked down at his friend. Caitlyn chuckled, she didn’t buy that for a second, but she didn’t have time to listen to Jayce trying to save his ego, she had a lot more important things to do.

With brisk pace she marched herself to Vi, who was still surrounded by a group of increasingly flirty women.

“Vi.” Her stern voice got Vi’s attention and the attention of everyone around her. By now the people of Piltover knew her as the new Sheriff and for the most part treated her as such.

But there were still a few who only regarded her as the ‘rich Kiramman girl’ while they looked at Vi as some novelty, something unusual, a Zaunite who somehow made became an Enforcer. The girls around Vi though, it was very obvious what they were after with Vi. Caitlyn has seen that look many times before. Sometimes she was looked at in that way, Vi looked at her that way, and Caitlyn looked at Vi that same way.

Caitlyn wasn’t stupid. Vi was hot, of course women would be interested in her. Which is why she needed to make things clear for them.

Her arm looped around Vi’s while her other hand came to rest on the brawler’s bicep. She didn’t miss the way Vi blushed when she squeezed, or the way the women glared at her for doing so. It was honestly adorable how she could make Vi flustered with the faintest of gestures.

“Yeah? What’s up?” Vi tilted her head towards her in that adorable way that made Caitlyn want to kiss her right there and then. That would surely be one way to show everyone that Vi wasn’t available, but that seemed a little flashy.

“As much as I hate to break up the fun you’re having, we have paperwork tomorrow and I would appreciate it if you’d accompany be back to our apartment so we could get some sleep.” She made sure to look at the group of women as she said the word ‘our’.

“Huh? Don’t we have a late day tomorrow? I though you said you wanted the morning free to-”

“Paperwork Vi. On my desk.” Caitlyn lightly squeezed Vi’s arm, further emphasizing her intentions.

“Oh.” Caitlyn could see the wheels turning and things finally clicking in Vi’s brain when her eyes widened, “Oh! The paperwork. Fuck, I mean uh… yeah, now I remember. We should definitely go and sleep. So we can do the paperwork.” Vi took Caitlyn by the hand, waived and winked at the group of ladies and almost bolted towards the door.

The moment the two were in their apartment Vi went right in for a kiss, she tried to push Caitlyn to the nearby wall only to have Caitlyn grab her by the tie and pull her toward the bedroom.

“Feisty tonight are we?” Not that Vi was gonna complain, she loved bossy Caitlyn. Usually she hated taking orders from anyone, Caitlyn was her one exception. But it didn’t seem like Caitlyn was in a joking mood. “Cupcake?”

Caitlyn merely glanced back at her and tugged harder, making Vi stumble forward, just managing not to collide with Caitlyn when she stopped to open the door.

Caitlyn’s hands were everywhere she could grab, untucking Vi’s shirt from her pants, hands furiously working to unbutton it and slide her hands across Vi’s abs. Just as Vi was about to go in for a kiss she found herself pushed back and landing onto her back, her shirt hanging off her shoulder, just enough to expose her breast.

Hot, needy, eager mouth was on her neck before she could offer any sort of remark. A gasp left her throat, her hands grasping Caitlyn’s perfect hips that straddled her as she tugged on her tie once more.

“Caitlyn?” Vi was torn between grinding up against her and remaining strong. With great effort she decided to be strong, “Babe stop for a second.” Caitlyn was pushed back with a whine, her hand cupping Vi’s breast as their eyes met. There was lust there to be sure, but also something more. Something that Vi hasn’t seen before.

“I want you, please Vi.” Caitlyn’s voice was trembling slightly, her hands shaking as she dragged them over Vi’s muscles.

Vi frowned, “Something’s bothering you isn’t it?” Vi took Caitlyn’s hands in her own, her thumbs rubbing Caitlyn’s knuckles as she brought her fingers to her lips, kissing each one, “You know you can talk to me right? No matter what it is. I’m here.”

A heavy sigh left Caitlyn’s mouth, she turned her head to the side for a moment, vulnerability shining though in her eyes as she turned them back to Vi.

“I don’t like how they were behaving around you.” Vi’s frown deepened, her head tilting to the side like a little confused puppy. Damn. Hot, handsome and cute, how did Caitlyn even get so lucky. “Those women you were talking to. They kept crowding you and drooling over and flirting with you, I didn’t like it Vi.”

Vi blinked quickly, her brain processing Caitlyn’s words, “Hold on, hold the fuck on.” She couldn’t help the grin from appearing on her lips, “Were you jealous?”

Caitlyn bit her bottom lip, her hands cupping Vi’s cheeks, thumbing over her tattoo, “Yes.”

“Oh. Wow. I uh… I didn’t expect you to just… ok. I never thought you would be.” Vi chuckled, “If anything I thought I’d have to beat back everyone else away from you. I didn’t even realize they were coming on to me.” Looking back on it now Vi couldn’t help but blush from it all, “I’m not used to that sort of attention. Well other than from you. I really like it when it’s from you.” Vi leaned up to press her lips against Caitlyn’s, her eyes closing on contact, Caitlyn’s following suit.

Vi’s hand tangled into Caitlyn’s hair, tilting her head to the side, deepening the kiss, trying to pour all her desire and love into the kiss.

“I didn’t even notice they were flirting. Do you know why?” Vi sucked on Caitlyn’s tongue as she pulled away, getting a sweet moan in return, “It’s because I only have eyes for you Cait.”

Caitlyn kissed her again in response, softly nibbling on Vi’s upper lips, her tongue gently licking over the lip scar, “That’s very flattering darling. But you don’t seem to realize how fucking attractive you are.” Caitlyn took Vi’s hand and guided it beneath her dress, the both of them moaning as Vi’s fingers came into contact with the wetness there.

Caitlyn’s hips rocked into Vi’s hand, as well as against her hard abs.

“Fuck. I do that for you huh?” Vi’s lips found Caitlyn’s neck, hot lips and tongue anywhere she could reach.

Caitlyn rolled her hips again while her fingers worked on unbuttoning Vi’s pants, “And I’m the only one who you can do that for.” Her fingers went past the waistband of her underwear, past the red curls and dipping into the wet folds. Vi’s eyes closed on contact, her hips thrusting, searching for more contact, but finding none as Caitlyn withdrew her fingers almost immediately.

She was about to complain about it before her mouth fell open in shock as Caitlyn popped the fingers into her mouth and sucked them clean, all the while keeping eye contact with Vi.

“Oh my god Caitlyn.” Vi’s hand gripped Caitlyn’s hips, “Do you have any idea how turned on I am right now?” Her finger slipped inside her girlfriends pussy, feeling the walls tightening up around her as she drew it back out only for Caitlyn to take it back in, “Fuck Cupcake.” Vi’s head fell onto the pillow.

“I love how you feel inside of me, have I ever told you that?” She made a V shape with her fingers as she licked them up and around before sucking on them again, the roll of her hips accompanying the wet, popping sounds.

Vi nodded quickly, not sure where to look, between her fingers going in and out of Caitlyn’s cunt and Caitlyn sucking on her own fingers she was a little overwhelmed.

She shut her eyes tight as her body locked up, her moan barely held back. Caitlyn’s eyes widened, her hips speeding up to catch her own orgasm. As soon as Caitlyn added another finger and hooked them forward Caitlyn was done, stars dancing in front of her eyes. She waited for Vi to pull her fingers out before she rolled her hips again, smearing her juices across Vi’s abs.

“Damn.” Vi took deep breaths to steady herself, thankful for the comforting weight of Caitlyn that kept her grounded, “I fucking love you Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn hummed and leaned forward, hiding her face in Vi’s neck, softly kissing over her gear tattoo.

“I love you too. So much.” Caitlyn finally felt like she was content, looking back though her jealous may have been a bit silly, but damn if it didn’t lead to some hot sex. Maybe she should get more jealous in the future if this will be the end result.

#piltover's finest #arcane #league of legends #arcane fanfiction #league of legends fanfiction #vi #caitlyn kiramman

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alketaire · 2 years

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Oh fuck S17 trailer up early

Dan and I watched it again frame-by-frame so lots of screenshots and bullshit under the cut

hey calus, uh. your suns are looking pretty sick. no, no it’s not a compliment, take those things to the vet or something

but more importantly: see that thing at the top of frame? that’s the HELM. WE HAVE LIFTOFF, BAYBEE

Leviathan’s fucked, yeah. Pretty much every shot in the trailer is some recognizable part of the raids, but egrespored to hell and full of wee nightmares.

Like so.

Scorn bodies all over the trailer. Not a lot of Loyalists, but they’re still around.

Scorn portals, too. And still plenty of Calusbots. Gonna be disappointed if those nightmares don’t possess the bots and make them wiggle their fingers spookily or something.

Why wasn’t Caiatl invited to the weegee board session? Rude.

Seasonal artifact spotted. Hive magic rituals inside the Leviathan while surrounded by Calus’s Crown-of-Sorrow-fied Scorn...

New glaive? 10/10. New STASIS TRACE RIFLE? 15/10. Trespasser comeback? Nice/10. New Ghost shells? NICE/10. Seasonal armor? Scale broke, please call maintenance crew. /10.

Is - is that his -

she looks so COOL

Speaking of looking cool

Possible people Caiatl’s Nightmare could be: - Calus, who is ”““““alive”“““““ and doesn’t wear armor like that - Ghaul, who does wear armor like that but I feel like was way bigger than Caiatl sees him here? - Umun’Arath, who we have no fuckin’ clue what she looks like, this could be her, fuck who knows

Is there some “become the Nightmare” aspect to this story or is it “he is also his own Nightmare” because either way I am DOWN

oh hey Uldren, still got the boots

Dan was confused and delighted to see the Menagerie guns coming back, e.g. Epicurean on the left. Looks like a new auto in the middle and CALUS Mini-Tool on the right?

As a professional bonk Titan, I lost my shit. Given this is the first time we’ve seen animation of a Titan catching the hammer, Dan and I came up with two different ideas. Dan’s: you now have to catch the hammer mid-air to get the full melee charge back (i.e., if it hits the ground and you pick it up there, you only get half the charge or something). Mine: Fuck it, bonkerang.

Cutting edge Hunter tech: two Tripmines taped together. This looks fun as hell.

Beloved is back, get ready to Crucible

That is a GREAT activity rally flag, also please yes more rally flags

Did they actually change the way the maul looks, or do I just never see it from this angle?

I have only played Voidstalker, can a Hunter main verify whether “stab ground, give buff” is new or not?

ngl feeling like I am going to fucking elope with this subclass rework. LOOKIDAT.

HEY WARLOCKS, WHO’S YOUR FAVOURITE FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST CHARACTER? I’LL PRETEND YOU SAID ROY MUSTANG. YOU’RE ROY MUSTANG NOW.

FUCK.

YEAH.

Here’s where Dan reached peak ????? because:

I never got Trespasser in D1, but Dan’s excited, so I am, too.

That ship is so gorgeous that it has to be from either Eververse or PVP. :(

Leviathan Underbelly my beloved and everyone else’s detested

Is that armor Iron Banner, Eververse, or Solstice? Season preview site says Eververse set? Also oh no Caiatl having even more of a bad time :(

the FUCK is THAT about. i literally got nothing here, what the shit is the Hellmouth doing now

Also, the clouds on Earth look like a Dreg yelling while he gives you the finger if you look long enough

Looks like that’s an event-specific flaming scythe of looking insanely cool rather than a class-specific one

Confirmed: Uldren, Zavala’s dead wife, and Crown of Sorrow. Not confirmed: whether Caiatl’s nightmare is Ghaul or Umun’Arath. Looking pretty Ghaulish there, though.

#d2 #destiny #season 17 spoilers #season of the haunted spoilers

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bearsinpotatosacks · 2 years

Text

Return of the King - A Gary King Recovery Fic

A no apocalypse, all 5 Musketeers got out alive AU where Gary’s recovered.

Andy hadn't believed it at first, when he got the text. That was a shock within itself, not only that Gary wasn't using the same Nokia he'd probably had since the turn of the millennium but that he'd figured out WhatsApp. Andy arrived at the train station with an almost crippling wave of deja vu.

This was exactly the same as the Golden Mile. The Five Musketeers, as Gary had called the group chat, sat on a bench, catching up. His uneasy feeling was the same.

Not everything was the same, however. Steven was talking about Sam and had the glimmer in his eyes of a long term relationship settling in. And Andy held out hope that this wasn’t going to be another pub crawl.

He'd tried to stay caught up with Gary, but the last time they'd really spent time together, Gary was eight months out of rehab and had asked him to read over a few contracts for what he called 'Grown up things'.

So, it seemed he'd made something of himself. And Andy would rather them not go on this holiday than seeing Gary at a new low, having messed up his new start.

The taxi pulled up outside the quaint train station. He opened the window and shouted, "Taxi for Andy?"

"That's us."

They piled their bags into the boot and crammed into the car. The air conditioning was just an inch too cold and hit him like a wall. It was far too grey and blustery for it. All it did was add to the unsettling feeling he had.

Pulling away, Andy looked at the old buildings. Weathered brick and period windows against grey skies and bright green bushes. It was humble and reminded him of Newton Haven without the sense of impending doom or the fear that he'd never leave.

He'd never understood Gary’s affiliation with the town. Andy knew it was a harmless place, at least when they'd lived there, but eighteen years of rural peace had almost made him sick. It was probably why he wanted to leave so badly. He had to get out at the first moment he could or else he knew he'd become one of the old farts who never left.

Gary didn't see it that way, however. To him that place was heaven, the epitome of all his good times, a cure-all for every ailment he had. His attitude didn't make sense though, not with the bittersweet memories of his childhood also being there.

He hadn't spoken about it much. Andy had to guess at most of the details but he knew his childhood hadn't been the nicest. Drunken nights when they were teenagers revealed that there'd a lot of arguing for most of his life, his dad walking out when he was twelve and a mother, distraught, overlooking how much her son was slipping.

His mum had always been put together when they visited. But they didn't go around often, and things were often different behind closed doors.

Andy shook himself awake and saw them pass the sign to the town where Gary was calling home. The driver stopped at the docks and turned to him.

"That'll be £30,"

They pulled out notes, having taken money out at the station, and lugged their bags out of the car.

The smell of the sea threaded through the air. Ahead of them, a short beach stretched out. People were scattered about, less than on a sunny day, but still enough to be slightly busy. On either side the stone dock extended out onto the harbour. Boats, small to medium, bobbed on a calm tide.

"So, where is he?" Oliver said.

They scanned the beach. Families swaddled in coats who insisted on going to the beach bundled up more as it grew colder. The sky was turning a milky grey and a wind rolled down the hills and out to the sea.

"Late probably," Andy sighed.

He looked at his watch, he'd said half two, it was now closer to three. It should've shown him for believing Gary could be on time to anything. He still believed being fashionably late was cool, or was too arrogant to even realise he was late.

"Hey, hey, hey!" A familiar voice said.

They turned in unison to see Gary King. Andy's deja vu grew worse as he looked at Gary. He wore the same long black coat, same black shirt and sisters of mercy band tee. His eyes were hidden by the same aviators and his ginger roots were leaching into his poorly dyed black hair just like when he called them all to Newton Haven.

"You came!"

He half ran toward them and pulled them all into a hug. His face lit up with a smile, stretched across his cheeks and, if Andy looked hard enough, reached his eyes.

That was new, at least. A genuine smile.

"Yeah, you did ask us to," Peter said.

Gary pulled out of the hug, rubbed the back of his head and looked down. He laughed more awkwardly this time.

"Wasn't sure if you'd actually show up," he said. "Especially after the last time I randomly brought you somewhere."

That was very un-Gary. He'd never been sheepish or shy. It was strange after so long of knowing him as arrogant. Andy hoped this was a good sign. If he was acknowledging that what happened at Newton Haven wasn't good, acknowledging that something wasn't a good time when it seemed to be all he cared about, it had to be a good sign?

"Come on, you had no say in anything with the Blanks," Andy said.

"Still got us all there."

"And got us out." Steven added.

Gary laughed, lowly, and shrugged.

"You know you're late, right? " Steven said, changing the subject.

"Late shmate," Gary said and started to walk to the docks. "Come on, I have something to show you."

Andy sighed and followed along. He was the same, in some ways, but different in others. He had a strange glow about him, his face had more colour to it and laughter full of life. Of course he still spoke with arrogance, or was it confidence? Had the air that he knew he was the best, although he wondered if it was real this time or just an act, like in Newton Haven.

They passed some shops. A cafe with a blue facade, its amber lighting glowing out the window and melting with the canary yellow walls. An ice cream parlour shone with its pink walls and neon sign. Souvenir shops blended together, built into the cliff face as they walked the bending path around to the dock.

Gary walked the path liked he owned it. Wooden boards grew out of the bumpy cliff face. Multicoloured boats, tied to posts, bobbed on the tide. Some of the boats towered above his head, others probably couldn't hold all five of them.

He stopped in front of a medium sized blue boat. The cockpit was a small square room that rose to about half his height above him. Compared to some of the boats around them, this was humble. It wasn't a yacht or a dinghy. It was humble and stable.

"Welcome!"

"That's a boat." Oliver said.

"Yeah," Gary said, gesturing behind him. "Thought that was obvious."

"You live on a boat?"

"Why else would I bring you to a boat? We're not going to break in." He sniggered.

They looked at each other. Oliver was the most puzzled. He'd shown Gary apartments to rent in London over the past three years, he'd said no to all of them and, when Andy had heard, his heart dropped when it seemed like Gary wasn't sticking with this recovery thing like he'd promised.

"Do you want to come in, then?"

Andy nodded and followed Gary onto the boat via the board on leading to the top deck. He kept telling himself that although it wasn't what he expected, Gary had been making an effort and did seem different.

They arrived on a blue deck, not too long or wide. Solar panels were attached to the roof of the cockpit with smaller ones around the edge of the deck. Gary walked to the cockpit door and unlocked it. It was routine for him, they could tell in the way he walked without seeing the path to the door.

Inside, foldable chairs were stacked against one wall. Controls and a steering wheel opposite the door overlooked large windows with a perfect view of bobbing boats and a grey-blue sky. To the right, a set of stairs with chipped white paint led to the lower floor of the boat.

They left their bags in there as Gary gestured for them to go downstairs. The stairs creaked as they walked, framed pictures, generic ones of cities that Gary'd never been to.

They walked onto light tanned wood, contrasting the white panelled walls. To their left was the living room, a tired yet vibrant dark green sofa stood out against white. Armchairs bracketed them and looked equally as old. A small television stood on a stand against the wall to the staircase.

Ahead of them was the kitchen with warm white counters. The fridge sat against the back wall, a cluttered sink next to it, the oven and kettle were against the left hand wall and a connected island gave some seating in the small space. A door was ajar were next to the fridge that, if he looked closer, led to the bathroom.

"Bedroom's through there." Gary pointed toward the door next to the armchair, behind the stairs. "And my office."

"Office?" Andy said.

They peaked through into the little hallway. His bedroom was cluttered but more organised than Andy expected. Gary wasn't making the most of the space, or didn't care by the look of the occasional piles of clothes around the bed.

"Wow, look in here," Steven said.

He was looking in the office. Andy understood his shock when he joined him.

Straight ahead was his desk, busy with fresh, half finished drawings and sketches. A shelf above the desk had rows of pens and pencils, paints and brushes. A cupboard above that, almost reaching the ceilings, gave them a glance at a few full sketchbooks. What was truly impressive was the drawings on the wall, detailed flowers, orange explosions and recognisable band logos.

"Didn't know he could draw?" Oliver said.

"He took art at A-level didn't he?" Peter said.

"Oh yeah," Oliver said as they turned back to the living room. "Didn't know he was that good, though."

Gary had taken his coat off when they returned. His black shirt rolled up to the sleeves.

"Tea?" He asked.

They nodded, telling him how they liked it. Andy tried not to make his further surprise more evident.

You could see the scars on Gary’s wrists from his suicide attempt. They'd healed by now, it had been years. Shaded lines against his pale skin. Faded enough that you wouldn't notice if you weren't looking.

The others weren't looking, that was certain. They just sat down. They didn’t know the details like he did, all they knew was that Gary'd fallen into addiction and depression and couldn't see a way out.

But Andy had listened to the gritty details when Gary had been motivated to tell him. He'd seen the scars when they were healing. He knew the shake of his hands and how his face withdrew, pale, as he went through withdrawal. The others didn’t have the investment into Gary’s future like he did.

Not to say they didn't care, they did, but Andy had a strange need to see Gary’s life succeed. They'd been as thick as thieves once. Maybe it was because of the crash and how far they'd drifted apart that he felt a need to help him.

"Those are good drawings," Steven said.

Gary looked up from the boiling kettle. He was tapping his fingers on the counters.

"Thanks."

"Didn't know you could draw like that?"

He scratched the back of his head, "Yeah, well, I'm a tattoo artist, got to be good, haven't I?"

"Tattoo artist?"

"Yeah, get paid well," he laughed, then his face dropped. "That's not the only reason, though, quite like drawing to be honest, a bit freeing,"

The kettle clicked as the water boiled. Gary poured it in the five cups. He was building himself up to something.

"Got back into it in rehab, therapist kept on going on about healthy coping mechanisms so I thought I might give it a go," he said. "Not that I was allowed to be alone when I did, they didn't trust anyone alone with a pencil sharpener."

He shook himself and started to stir the tea. His usual bravado was gone. He'd finally learnt that he didn't need to seem like he was always having a good time to be important, or for people to care.

"You got good, though," Peter said.

"Yeah, yeah I did." He smiled to himself as he finished off the tea. "Got into tattoos once I got out, saw a connection between the two and here I am."

He slipped his black shirt off. His upper arms were thick with detailed black ink. From far away, he couldn't see anything too detailed but could make out a skeleton with flashes of red and blue on his right arm and an astronaut surrounded by planets on his left.

He pointed to the astronaut, "Designed that one myself."

He let them gawk for a moment before shrugging his shirt back on again. He placed the mugs on a tray and brought them over.

Gary collapsed in one of the armchairs. His face washed blank for a brief moment. It wasn't the kind of relaxing blank, it was the break in a storm or before the next wave crashed on the ocean.

Andy could see his age now. They weren't ancient but they weren't young anymore. It all added to the realisation that he was recovering, beyond the boat and the job and his new healthy coping mechanism, he wasn't trying to look young or maintain a youthful outlook to mask his aging face. He'd accepted that they weren't getting any younger, didn't need to acknowledge it either, and that was a big step for him.

"So, you've got somewhere to live-" Steven started

"Yep."

"-got a job-"

Gary hummed in agreement.

"Anyone special we should know about?"

He darted up from his seat, "Anyone want any biscuits?"

Steven smiled, "That a yes then?"

Gary had moved to the sink with lightning speed. His back was turned, arms splayed white and black as they lent against the counter. His head was bowed so only the ginger tips of his dyed hair could be seen.

"Gary-" Peter said.

"No. Fucking no, I'm not seeing anyone." He stood up and got some bourbons from the cupboard. "Hate that phrase anyway, 'seeing someone', I see everyone, got eyes for a reason, haven't I?"

He turned around with the biscuits in hand. His peaceful face turned angry. It was the tired anger you only got from many of the same annoying conversations.

They looked from him to each other. It was such a quick change, from happy to sad.

"I can see your faces, it's always the same, they see I've got my life on track, the boat, the job, the art, and when I say there isn't anybody they look at me like I've downed a bottle of vodka and snorted a line of cocaine right in front of them," he barked.

Steven gulped, "So there isn't anyone."

"No, don't think there ever will be,"

He slowly walked back to his chair. The anger dissipated and his morose calm came back again.

"Never will be?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, well, in my exploration of the modern world, I discovered that there's a lot of words for things that we didn't have when we were kids," he said.

They looked at each other again.

"Words?" Andy finally spoke.

"Well, you know, we had gay and lesbian and bisexual but there's other words, like pansexual, if who people are, you know, male or female or whatnot, doesn't really matter, or asexual, if you don't like anyone." He took a sip of his tea. "And I thought well, that pan-whatever word sounded right, I mean I've never really thought it was such a big deal who you liked, as long as they weren't a prick, you know, thought I was just being open but apparently not."

"What does this have to do with you not wanting to be with someone?" Andy asked.

"I'm getting to that," he said. "Well, I found the word aromantic, it means you don't feel romantic attraction to people, so like marriage, holding hands, cuddling, all that shit, you don't feel a want to do that with someone."

"Didn't know that was a thing?" Peter said.

Gary ate another biscuit, "Neither did I, but it makes sense in hindsight."

"Does it?"

"Yeah, my girlfriends were always like 'We only ever snog' and complained that I never said I love you or held their hand but I never got it, made me feel like a dick but I genuinely didn't think people cared about that sort of thing, thought it was just something they told you, didn't actually think people saw and wanted that kind of, well I don't even know what people want, I don't know, I've never experienced it."

They pondered for a moment. It did make sense when Andy thought back. All of Gary’s partners had classed as flings at the most. A flame of passion that they all saw as immaturity, an extension of Gary's need to have a good time. But he'd never shown any interest in actually dating anyone at school, just about the physical aspect.

"So, this identity, it makes sense, you think it fits then?" Andy asked.

"Yes," Gary said. "It hasn't been easy though. There's a lot of information out there, useful stuff, but a lot of conflicting opinions, people saying that it doesn't exist, that I'm trying to be special when I'm not or that something's wrong with me."

He continued, his face contorting in anger again without the rage, "Anytime I tell people they think it's just another thing I need to recover from, I did too, it's what I went in thinking when I went to rehab, they think it's another sign of immaturity or me chasing people for a good time like booze or drugs but when I got better it didn't go away."

"My therapist faced it like a coping mechanism to be fixed or a problem to face but as I started to realise what was wrong with only wanting a good time and relying on booze, I didn't see not wanting anything romantic as a problem."

He slumped in his chair. The anger dissipated. His face eased into something melancholic, a deeper anger from longer pain.

"But I had to keep telling my therapist that it wasn't hurting me and the idea of me and romance hurt more and it was only after telling him over and over and over again that he finally listened." He said. "And even then it didn't go away. People fought for it to be a thing, people fought against, people made it seem like romance was an intrinsic human thing and I wasn't human or that I had no emotions or empathy and was evil-"

He sat up and threw his arms out. A disgusted wave of bitterness came over him. Andy knew in the way he swirled his tea like he used to swirl a whisky glass and the way his upper lip curled.

"Well, if not feeling romantic things for anyone makes me evil, then I guess I'm fucking satan!"

"Woah, Gary, calm down," Andy said. "You're not evil mate."

Gary slumped back down. That melancholy calm came back but was broken by a smile. Despite his churning emotions, the bittersweet smiles to rage, he was evidently better just because he was letting himself show more emotion than just glee.

"I know, I know, it just still hurts that so many people, especially those who want me to get better, are determined to convince me that something that isn't hurting me, is bad," Gary said.

Peter spoke up again, "Well, does it make you happy, do you think it fits?"

With a smile, Gary nodded, "It does, it really does."

"That's all that matters then." Andy said.

They moved on from there. Steven got talking about Sam and how they'd been moved in for about a year now. Gary made his usual jokes but with less bite, less carelessness, less desperate to hide something.

Outside, the sky turned dark and gray. The rushing sound of the water against the boat grew louder. Gary turned on some lamps and the amber lights warmed the room. He'd really made this place homely.

"What about you then Andy? Last I heard you and the wife were giving it a go again?" Gary asked.

It caught Andy off guard. Gary didn't remember stuff like that, he never had.

"Oh, it's going well, we've been going to couples counselling for a while and it's helped." He met Gary’s soft gaze. "Yeah, it's going well, thanks mate."

He nodded again. Andy checked his phone for the time, it was getting toward seven now, they should probably check in to the hotel.

"We need to get to the hotel," he said.

They made their way to the door. Gary's face formed a hard line, his hands tucked in his pockets and shoulders slumped. He'd never been good at saying goodbye to his friends at the end of the day.

"See you tomorrow, yeah?" Oliver said when they arrived in the cockpit.

"Yeah, there's a good cafe around the corner, does good pancakes, we'll have to go for breakfast."

Andy smiled at him, "Sounds good."

He pulled them each into a hug, awkward ones where they patted each other on the back. Andy was left last.

Gary pulled him into a proper hug, arms wrapped around and chins tucked over shoulders. He sighed when they'd settled. It was warm, cosy, and screamed some kind of vulnerability.

"Thanks," Gary whispered. "For being there, for having faith, I don't think I could've done it without you."

"I always knew you had it in you, just wanted you to see that too," he pulled away. "You're the King again."

Gary smiled and rubbed the back of his head. It was natural. Like how the low lights shone through the ginger ends of his hair and gave an amber glow. His scars had healed, he had a home and a purpose. He was healthy and Andy flushed with pride.

"Yeah, I am, aren't I?"

I tried to think of what Gary could do to actually take care of himself without just amalgamating into the boring suburban life he didn't want. I chose to make him a tattoo artist after this post asked what a levels he took and I thought he'd be an English Lit, Drama and Art kinda guy (if he showed up at all). Also the whole boat thing made sense as he has a home but is free to go anywhere.

Also I have now watched all the Cornetto Trilogy multiple times and Spaced and kind of want to write something where Tim, Shaun, Nicholas and Gary are cousins.

Hope you enjoyed this!

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