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poeticpascal · 10 months

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White Lies (Joel Miller x Reader)

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Summary: Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: violence, Joel kills 3 dudes (what murdaaah?), descriptions of blood and wounds, stitches, Joel feels guilt and shame but is also very soppy and very in love, fuff and angst all tangled up, descriptions of chronic pain

A/n: I have had a bloody nightmare the last few weeks with suspected endometriosis, which is what inspired me to write this. In my head, reader has endo and the medicine is some sort of contraception or strong painkillers to help her manage it. But it isn't explicitly mentioned so you can imagine whatever you most relate to. Please do let me know what you think, and as always, requests are open!

It’s a harsh winter, even by Boston’s standards.

The QZ is coated in a veil of thick snow, the blizzard that took hold weeks ago now bruising the streets with an icy fist.

Joel pulls his coat tighter around himself, grateful at least for the cover the snowstorm offered, the skies foggy and grey. He can slip through the alleyways much quicker, much quieter beneath the frost. His footsteps are erased almost as soon as he leaves them, and when things get messy, he can soothe his wounds in the freeze.

Which is good, because things get messy a lot.

Not that he’d tell you that. You were too pure, too gentle; not unlike the snow that paints your doorframe now.

No, Joel keeps those things from you. The world has been unkind enough, and if he has one purpose now, it’s to protect that sweetness of yours. To collect it, each golden ray of sunshine that so easily radiates from you, to give it back and let you bask in the warmth of your own soul.

No one deserves it more than you do. Least not him, and yet you’d given him more love, more sweetness, than he could ever dream of.

That’s why he told you he was working a late shift today - sewage, he thinks he said - rather than where he actually is at 3am, catching his death in an old littered alleyway.

He occasionally shifts to avoid the silver moonlight dripping from the gaps in the fire-escape stairs above him. Tonight’s meeting should be a simple one, free from FEDRA’s strict patrols; he’d done this long enough now to know when, and where, was safest for these things.

He stays on high alert, though. Just in case.

Marco’s late. He isn’t known for being the most competent of dealers, but Joel was getting desperate now, and he was the only crook in the QZ who could get what he needed. He was a small man, a bit pathetic looking, really. But he was smart, and he had connections that even Joel couldn’t make for all his smuggling and dealing.

So when Joel’s supplier told him he couldn’t help him anymore, he didn’t have a choice. That’s what he tells himself, anyway.

“Miller, there ya’ are.” Joel’s snapped out of his thoughts, his looming regret of this whole situation, as Marco strolls down the alley. He grins, in the same cocky way he always did, the sort of grin a man who couldn’t win a fight but has enough men who could wrapped around his finger, doing the dirty work for him.

Joel insisted he come alone. Not because he couldn’t handle his goons; he knew he could. Maybe. But it would cause a scene, and draw attention, to something he very much wanted to keep under wraps.

He’s semi-surprised to see the two men walking behind Marco. Deep down, he’d had some faith that the dealer would stick to his word.

“Quiet the fuck down,” Joel warns, seething through his teeth as his eyes search the alley behind them, making sure they hadn’t been heard. “Who are your friends?”

Marco follows Joel’s gaze towards his companions. “They’re just here to observe.”

The men are the same height as Joel, maybe a little taller. He recognises both from the sleazy speakeasies that lie beneath the floors of the QZ. Where the bad guys go.

One is bald, with a jagged scar carved across his cheek and over his eye. He’s scowling, unlike Marco and the other man, who looks somewhat softer with thick hair grown to his shoulders and brown eyes that stayed on Joel like bedrock.

“That’s not what we agreed,’ Joel growls.

There’s tension in the air, thick, and they must feel it too because Marco’s henchmen each have a hand hovering near their sides, where silver blades reflect the white of the snow.

“I recall us also agreeing that you’d get your meds in return for the money. But we’re doing things a little differently today.” Joel remains stoic, though his eyes turn dark and angry, the moon’s light no longer illuminating his features. Marco tiptoes slowly towards him, getting so close that Joel can feel his breath and raising a hand to pick a piece of lint from his flannel shirt. “I want my money. But you might have to wait a little longer for your meds.”

Joel reacts then, squaring up to him, stepping forward and clenching his fists. The other men wrap their hands around their blades, anticipating a fight. Marco just laughs.

“‘Scuse me?” Joel asks, though they all know he understood what was going on.

“You’re gonna give me the amount we agreed. And then, you’re gonna speak to one of your guard friends, and cut me a deal. Then you might get your meds.”

Joel’s anger swells inside him like a beast, his previous care to stay hidden long gone as he imagines driving his fist into Marco’s smug, son of a bitch face again and again and again.

He has to think this through, though. He needs those meds. Marco can see the cogs turning. “Just give me the money, Miller. Don’t make this difficult. You can’t take three of us.”

“No?” Joel retorts, already decided in what he’d do next. “I don’t think it’s worth findin’ out. Give me the meds.”

Marco sighs, dropping his head and stepping away from Joel, leaving him to face his men. “Shame, Joel. You really coulda helped us.”

He nods to his men, who immediately draw their blades and attack. The first lands a punch on his face, the weight of it surprising him as he falls back into the railing. Before he can recover, the other has already plunged a blade through his stomach, right below his ribcage. He controls himself, swallows the yell that claws its way up his throat, tries to think. The cold steel of the rail stabs into his back, and when another fist collides with his cheek and sends him to the floor, he uses it to haul himself up and tackle one of the men - the softer one - to the ground with him.

Marco only stands and watches as Joel throws his weight onto the man and smashes his head into the stone floor. The other grabs his shoulder, spinning him round but Joel’s prepared this time and he dodges the swat of his knife. Instead he throws a punch into his stomach, making him double over which gives Joel the opportunity to grab the knife strapped to his calf and drive it through the bald man’s throat. He stumbles, collapsing to the floor with a choked cry, and Joel turns back just in time to see the other man trying to stand, though the injury to his head makes him dizzy. Joel stands first, easily pushing the man to the ground, and stomping on his head with as much force as his steel-toed boots would let him. Both men stay down.

Marco has regressed into the darkness of the alley, and he looks somehow smaller than usual. He’s pathetic, and if this was any other job, he’d laugh. But this wasn’t a laughing matter, and there was only one target for him; the medication.

The smaller man reaches into his pocket, searching for his gun, but Joel anticipates the move and has already reached him and thrown him against the wall before he can find it. His movements strain the wound in his abdomen, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t feel it.

Joel’s fist pins Marco to the wall by his throat, making him splutter and flail like a fish out of water.

“Where are the fuckin’ pills, Marco?” He just continues to flail, trying to pull Joel’s hand off of him with both of his own, to no effect. Joel scoffs, throwing him to the floor and dragging his knife out of the now dead henchman’s neck. “If you won’t tell me, I guess I’ve got no use for ya.” He uses his shirt to clean the blade, the flannel already soaked in blood, his own.

“For fuck sake, Marco whines, slightly out of breath. “They’re at my place.”

“There anyone else there?” Joel asks, so nonchalantly that it almost sounds like a passing thought.

“No, no one there. But you’ll need me to get you in.”

Joel looks up again, the now-clean knife held in his fist with a vice-like grip. He stalks towards Marco, ignoring his desperate pleas.

“Shouldn’t be a problem-”

With that, he stabs him in the chest, letting him choke and gasp on the floor and searching his pockets for a key. He finds it, and does a quick, final survey of the alleyway. The once perfectly settled snow is disturbed, kicked up in the fight, and deeply stained with blood.

Joel curses, but leaves, only now noticing the burning pain from his torso. He leans against the wall, now stood out in the street, open; but there are no guards. He doesn’t think he’d care. Instead he grabs a fistful of the snow around his feet, packs it into the wound, hissing at the sharp pain of the ice but quickly feeling relief as it numbs him.

This was going to be a long night.

—------------------

It’s another couple of hours or so before he returns. There were, in fact, people at Marco’s place - but Joel knew that would be the case anyway. They weren’t a problem.

He’d showered in Marco’s flat, after taking out the men hanging out in there. Protecting it, he assumed. And he’d found a med pack that let him stitch up the wound to some degree; it was a hack job, but it should do the trick. He’d had worse.

The most important thing was that he found the meds.

The old door of your place creaks as he steps inside, quickly closing it behind him before the cold could enter. It’s futile, really; the wooden pillars are rotten, decaying so badly that the wind sweeps through the cracks with ease, and he can see dustings of snow on the floor around your windows. But he tries anyway.

“Joel?”

There you are.

It’s scary, honestly, what your voice does to him. Even so quiet, so distant from the bedroom upstairs, it lifts the weight from his shoulders that he thought he’d carry forever.

“I’m here, baby. I’m comin’.” He pulls off his shoes, placing them neatly beside the door just how you like, and heads upstairs. His bloodied shirt is long gone, buried in some forgotten corner of the QZ, where he has a collection of discarded items by now.

You don’t reply, he doesn’t expect you to. He reaches your bedroom, gently opening the door and sighing at the sight of you lying there, curled up between mountains of sheets and pillows.

He’d almost think you look peaceful if he didn’t know how much pain you’re in.

“Oh, honey,” he laments, crossing the distance from the door to you and kneeling down beside your head. You open your eyes, though they’re weighed down by exhaustion, and a small smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of the man before you.

“Hi,” you whisper, letting a gentle hand poke out from the duvet and brush his jaw. He can’t help but grin back at you, the total mess that took place just hours ago wiped from his mind completely, and he leans into your touch.

The both of you just stay like that for a moment, your thumb sweeping across his cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. Then you wince, and no matter how much you try to hide it, he can see the wave of pain inflict your body.

“I’ve got your tablets, sweetheart.” He reaches into his pocket, a desperation to his actions now; he hates seeing you like this. You just nod, pushing a meek but honest “thank you” past your lips, so quiet that he almost doesn’t hear it. His heart swells.

Joel presses out one tablet and hands it to you, then picks up the glass of water that stands on your side table, making a mental note to replace it later. You take the pill, grabbing hold of his hand before he can pull it away, and give it a gentle squeeze. He follows your lead and tips the water to your lips once you’ve placed the tablet on your tongue, gently helping you swallow and squeezing your hand right back.

A look of relief washes over your face, and he finally lets himself relax. He stands, letting go of your hand and leaning over to kiss your forehead, before pulling off the clothes he’d taken from Marco’s wardrobe and climbing in beside you.

He only knew heaven in these moments with you, late at night, when your hands reach for him beneath the sheets and your head nuzzles into his neck. It’s no different tonight; he’s quiet, unsure if you’d fallen asleep in those few seconds, and as much as he wishes you’d rest, he can’t deny the way his lips curl when he feels your gentle touch wrap around him.

“How was today? Doing the sewage?”

Joel swallows. “Yeah, yeah. It was fine. Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” His arms envelop you, holding you tight against him, one hand drawing gentle circles on your back. He’s lost in the bliss for a moment, letting it wash over him in waves, when your hand brushes his haphazard and you freeze. So does he.

“Joel,” you say; it’s still a whisper, but not the tired kind you’d given him earlier. It’s like you’re too scared to ask. “What’s that?”

He panics, holding you tighter, trying to think. He can’t believe himself for not remembering to cover it, to make sure you didn’t see.

“There was an accident today. I did some building work before I went to sewage, a pipe fell. Nicked me real bad-” you gasp, forcing yourself to sit up with shaky arms. Joel immediately pulls you back down, his hands grasping your face, staring into your eyes like they held the world inside them. It’s dark, but they glimmer, and he just hopes you can’t see his fear.

“No no. It’s fine, baby. I’m fine. Got seen by the doc, got a couple ‘a stitches. Says i’ll be all good by tomorrow.”

“By tomorrow? Joel that doesn’t sound right-”

He interrupts you. He hates this. “I promise, baby. That’s what she said. I promise.” He wipes a thumb across your cheek, and the way you seem to settle, to believe him, makes him ache. He hates this.

You nuzzle back into his side, placated. You trust him, endlessly, and he hates that he abuses that trust just as much as he needs to protect you. A means to an end, he thinks.

The two of you are silent for a few moments, your hand lay gentle over his wound. Like you’re trying to heal it. He thinks it’s working.

“Thank you for picking up my medicine,” you say.

“It’s okay.” His words are quiet, muffled; he’s got his face buried in your hair now, revelling in your scent, and really, he doesn’t want to talk about this with you. He doesn’t want to lie anymore than he already has.

You’re still oblivious, though. Still sweet.

“I’m so glad you can make my rations cover it. I don’t know what I’d do if they made them more expensive.”

Oh, babygirl, he thinks.

Because your rations don’t cover your medicine. Neither did his. Even combined, they’d hardly cover a drink in the bar these days. He’d seen you work and work and work, in spite of the pain that bloomed in your abdomen and tortured your bones until you could hardly stand up anymore, and he saw the way they laughed in your face and turned you away when you tried to get the help you needed. When you tried to trade your labour for medicine. You were nothing to them.

So he told you he could barter the price down. That it was best if he goes from now on, to make sure you’re not taken advantage of. He takes your rations, stuffs them right back in the savings pot you keep above the shelves in your kitchen, and leaves to make whatever underground deals he needs to in order to get those meds. And you didn’t know a thing.

He must’ve been quiet for a while, because you continue. “And I’m glad you don’t do those scary things anymore.”

That gets his attention. “Scary things?”

“Yeah. Like, the smuggling and stuff.” You take a breath, tighten your arms around his waist. “I mean, I know why you did it. I’m glad you were able to look after yourself.”

Joel curses to himself, unable to wipe the tears that brimmed in his eyes as you spoke, because that would mean letting go of you.

“But I’m also glad you don’t do that anymore. You go out, and you work, even the horrible sewage shifts like tonight.” You giggle, but Joel can’t even force himself to smile. Shame consumes him.

“I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He’s silent. He doesn’t know what to say. He feels like shit.

If you notice his stillness, you don’t mention it. That alone makes his heart ache; you’d always been so understanding, so careful to make sure he’s okay while knowing exactly how to handle his feelings.

It’s odd, really, how fiercely you protect one another. He doesn’t let the darkness of the world so much as touch you, and you extract the horrors from his veins like a vacuum, making him forget the damage was ever even there.

His eyes flitter down, watching you drift asleep, finally at peace and free from pain. He exhales.

He’d never feel good about lying to you. But some things, he thinks, are worth it.

You are worth it.

And so he brushes away the hair that’s fallen over your eyes, trying to fight the droopiness of his own so he can keep them on you for just a second longer. But sleep overtakes him, and the only reason he lets himself fall into dreamland, is because he knows he’ll find you there, too.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x yn #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller #pedro pascal x yn #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #my writing #poeticbarnes #poeticbarnes writes

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talaok · 1 year

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Okay . What about pedro × reader

Hear me out ...

They are dating for a few months but keeping it a secret the reader is also an actress and in her new movie her Co star is into her and with the interviews everyone is talking about in in social media . So pedro gets jealous and show up at her work ... maybe they fight or idk . I'm not sure about the ending

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: Pedro’s jealous of one of your co-stars

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst because I didn’t feel like doing a lot, and allusion to smut

A/n: why do yall like jealous Pedro so much!?

Pedro was not a jealous man, he knew you were his, just like he was yours.

He didn't mind the stares you'd attract from other men, he didn't mind the shameless flirting everyone always directed your way, and he didn't even mind having to see you kiss other men on screen... but there's a limit to everything.

He'd stumbled by accident in the comment section of your most recent post, a picture with the cast of the new movie you were shooting, and god if he wished he hadn't.

He meant to write a cute comment, because even though nobody knew about you two, nobody ever seemed to notice the borderline flirty words he'd leave under your pictures, and now he understood why.

He wasn't completely oblivious to the online conspiracies about you and Andrew, you had told him about it, about all the edits and fans and ships or whatever, however, there was a small detail you had forgotten to inform him about: the guy obviously liked you.

And who could blame him right?

Pedro. He could fucking blame him.

It didn't take long before he was furiously stalking his own girlfriend's Instagram.

you look stunning darling

Darling? When the fuck did he start calling you that?

I think I just had a heart attack

Oh, fuck off

And that wasn't even the worst part. Fuck no. The worst part was the fucking videos. the interviews. The way his eyes never left your fucking body. The way he touched your hand and lingered just enough for him to notice. the way he didn't even try to hide his pathetic attempts at flirting even when he knew he was being fucking filmed.

By the time Pedro shut his phone, he was ready to go have a “talk” with this guy

But first, he needed to see you. Now.

__ __ __

"God please if it's Gary tell him that I don't need to practice that scene again, I got it." you rolled your eyes as you instructed your assistant to open the trailer's door after hearing a knock.

"sure thing, but I don't think he can be so easily persuad-" her voice trailed off as she took in the man in front of her.

"Hi" she smiled at Pedro "It's-it's not Gary" she shot you a look.

"what, who is it?" you asked, momentarily forgetting the lipstick in your hand as you got up.

"Pedro?"

"hi sweetheart"

"what are you doing here?" you couldn't hide your confusion.

"Just wanted to see you," he said, entering the trailer.

"Oh," you smiled, before glancing at your assistant "I'm sorry Ana, could you give us a moment?"

"no problem, but remember you need to be on set in '15"

"yes ma'am" You joked, giving her a pretend salute.

She chuckled as she closed the door behind her.

"they have you on a tight schedule huh?" Pedro murmured, wasting no time before wrapping his arms around your back, forcing you flush against him.

"they do" you nodded, standing on your toes "So you're not gonna get what you came all this way for" you taunted, leaving a quick kiss on his lips.

He grunted, unsatisfied, and pulled you back for another kiss. This one much hungrier.

"Is that what you think I only think about?"

"well you don't make much of a case for yourself" you laughed softly.

"that's your fault" he breathed "If you weren't the most stunning woman on earth maybe I wouldn't be so all over you"

"maybe" you shrugged, lazily drawing patterns on his chest "Maybe not"

"I need to talk to you," he said, suddenly more serious.

A cloud of dread dropped onto you.

"oh," you murmured, taking a step back "about what?"

He looked around the place before finding your eyes again.

"I want to tell everyone"

You frowned

"I want to tell people we're together"

You were taken aback.

He was always the one opposed to it. He didn't want you to get caught in all the drama and gossip inevitably heading your way, no matter how many times you told him you didn't care.

"What?" you smiled "Why- I mean why now?"

"I want everyone to know you're mine. And I'm yours" he said " including Andrew"

You shot him a look "Andrew?"

"You didn't tell me he's obsessed with you"

"what? He's not"

"he is baby,"

"how would you even know?"

"I saw it"

"When? You've never met him"

"I saw the comments, and the interviews, and the videos"

"And you think just because in an interview he did what? made me laugh, he likes me?" you scoffed "That's ridiculous Pedro"

"I don't want to tell everyone we're together just because you're jealous of a guy I work with,"

"that's not why I want to tell sweetheart" he reassured you, taking a step towards you " I want everyone to know just how much I love you, that's why. And if that means that guys like Andrew will back off... even better"

"He's not into me" you insisted

A sly smile pulled at his lips "God baby, you really have no idea what you do to men, do you?"

"He's not into me."

"Sure" he mocked "and tell me, when was the last time he didn't do something you asked him?" He asked, moving some hair out of your face.

An almost comical silence spread through the room.

"That's what I thought" he nodded, using his fingers to raise your chin.

"Maybe he's just polite"

He leaned closer, his mouth ghosting yours "Or maybe he's just in love with my girl" he breathed a moment before kissing you deeply, one hand to the back of your neck and one to your ass.

"so what do you say?" he asked once you parted "You ready to tell the world?"

"Only if you are"

"oh you have no idea" he murmured, suddenly picking you up and pinning you against a wall.

A small gasp fled your lips, but he silenced it with a kiss.

"Pedro..." you warned him, tightening your legs' grip on his waist.

"they can wait" he read your mind "You're the start after all"

You couldn't help but laugh at that.

"you're a bad influence" you breathed, causing a smirk to land on his lips as he kissed your neck.

"sweetheart?" he suddenly asked

"Yeah?" you murmured, already out of breath.

"Whose trailer is next to this one?"

You paused a moment, pondering your options.

"Andrew's" you finally spoke, going for the truth “Why?”

By the look of it, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Baby,I think you know why”

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malewifeharem · 2 months

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yandere!malleus alphabet

彡- ,, yandere twst malleus alphabet (template from @dear-yandere eheheheh)

cw ⁞ violence, blood, manipulation, just general yandere behaviour??? kinda suggestive in K. not proofread.

an ⁞ feel free to req more of this for other characters only from om! for now :')

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

VERY INTENSE, to say the least. fae are known to be very territorial and possessive and malleus isn't an exception. he likes to shower you with affection and expensive gifts such as jewels or gold and doesn't allow you to 'reject' them. he has no objections to locking you up somewhere he can keep his eyes on you or starting wars with other kingdoms if it means that you'll be his.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

he definitely wouldn't mind getting rid of any nuisances getting in between the both of you but he always makes sure to clean up before you arrive. the scene is extremely gruesome — blood and guts would basically be in every crevice of the room. he only manages to get rid of the stench with his magic, so he tries to not kill people too often, lest he ends up overblotting and harming you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

nope nope nope. it doesn't matter how pathetic you look when you cry, he could never ridicule you like that. you just need to get used to your new environment! can't you see that he really wants the best for you?

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

his gifts and affection will be reciprocated, whether you like it or not. sure, he'll be more lenient if you've only just been captured but you can't keep shunning him away! will tie your wrists and ankles together to get you to stop struggling during naps and cuddle sessions. he has slipped love potions into your food before too.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

you and lilia are probably the only people who know about his... aggressive tendencies. he'll often times weep at your feet inconsolably — crying about how much he loves you and how it hurts when you don't feel the same way. as if that wasn't uncomfortable enough, he'll suddenly start rambling on about how you'd love his tower in briar valley and that you'd have no need to ever step out of it. humans like living in that kind of luxury, right?

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

fight back? against the 5th most powerful magic wielder in the world? yeah, good luck. he would never intentionally harm you, but you're really breaking his heart like this. he simply doesn't understand why you're so upset and just tries to calm you down to the best of his abilities. this is just a small lover's spat, it'll all be over soon!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

he does not find this funny, he takes it very seriously. what's wrong with what you have now? do you not like his gifts? why do you keep trying to run away? he's very confused and hurt — nevertheless, he always manages to catch you, leaving you right back where you started.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

before your abduction, you were still the human transfer student at NRC, you were still allowed the freedom to talk to anyone you wanted. malleus knew you and leona were quite close — the lion male having a small liking towards you. he was already quite irked at the sight, but he snapped when you hugged the lion, enchanting the whole vicinity with his signature spell — causing everyone to fall into a deep slumber. that's when he took the opportunity to lock you up in his room and you've been there since.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

he hopes to marry you one day and have you rule briar valley with him as his rightful queen. he definitely wants to have a family with you too, he does need to continue his royal fae bloodline!

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

YES. he tries to talk to you and hear whatever complaints you have but it's all in vain. he refuses to believe that you loathe him. he'll stand there in silence before quickly excusing himself — you don't see him for a few days. what does he do during this time? oh i don't know... maim whatever friends you have left? (ehe!)

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

he's very sweet. he has never felt so strongly for anyone before and he's going to give all of his love to you! he's constantly touching you, whether or not it's wrapping his arms around you or marking you up with bites. it's how fae show affection for their loved one! he'll charm you with his honeyed words — praising you when you're being obedient in the daytime and gently lulling you to sleep by night.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

before your abduction, he'd slip beautifully handwritten letters into your locker. however, it has no sender — your only clue as to who it was being the bright green wax seal. you thought it was just a random diasommnia student and didn't think much about them till the contents of these letters started becoming increasingly disturbing. saccharine poems of love and his promised reveal turned to bitter jealousy and rage at your 'infidelity' to him. how dare you speak to other students, especially those from his own house! you stopped receiving letters entirely but malleus suddenly started showing up at ramshackle dorm more often.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

sort of? lilia is the only other person who knows about his treatment of you. to everyone else, he's still unapproachable and cold. only you get to see him all pathetic and vulnerable. (manfailure)

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

being locked up in his room means zero contact with the outside world — you wonder how ace, deuce and grim are doing. solitude was enjoyable sometimes, sure, but you haven't seen anyone who isn't malleus for weeks. imagine the horror when even he stops showing up! this silent treatment usually ends within a few days because it breaks his heart to not speak to his darling too.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

you're pretty much deprived of social interaction. i hope you have an interest in gargoyles.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

he's surprisingly patient. his punishments are all quite tame — none of them being harmful to you. he understands if you need more time to get used to your new life but make him wait too long and he might slip a love potion into your food!

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

no. just no. if you died, he'll find a way to resurrect you — charm, potion, curse, spell, anything. trying to escape from him isn't something feasible for a human. you're stuck with him forever!

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

your cries of sorrow does bring him a sense of guilt and regret but the thought of letting you openly roam free again brings him more rage and worry. try convincing him to go out with you to a secluded area — he might agree if he's in a good mood!

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

poor dragon boi has lived for almost two centuries with no one he can consider a friend :( everyone's too scared or cautious of him to talk normally. so when a sweet fragile human like you treats him so nicely, he might just tear up. especially since you continued to do so after learning of his identity.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

( already kinda answered in C and F)

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

(i don't think so? define classic yandere :'D)

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

he's so patient and kind, if you play your cards well, you might be able to convince him to let you out for a little while — under his supervision, of course.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

intentionally, no. never! he has definitely damaged (killed) whatever social life you had before and your freedom but it was mostly unintended! (yea ok malleus...)

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

he likes to think that you two are equals — you as his bride, wife, future queen. he treasures whatever shred of affection you give him but i don't think he'd ever reach the point of kissing the ground you walk on or anything like that.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

(read H) in order to get to that point, he's already been tolerating your 'unfaithfulness' for a few months.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

probably. he already uses love potions on you, who's to say he won't make it permanent?

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baberoe-archive · 28 days

Note

top 10 insane bucky moments?

god where do i start.

perhaps basic of me but getting drunk and then saying he's fine then asking curt to punch him in the face and then howling. perhaps number one bucky moment for me. just absolutely falling apart. i hear that brother. do you ever think about how eps 1-3 he never really lets buck see this side of him. and its only when curt dies that buck is privy to it. yeah i dont think about that either

"maaaaaarge...." is to me far more insane than scissoring in the yard. like at least when he's provoking fights it can be written off as restlessness, but mocking your best friend for taking comfort in his sweetheart's letter with the most sickeningly jealous expression in the world AND right in front of everyone's salad.......... this man is a medieval peasant self-flagellating in the street.

trading his sheepskin that buck hated to go on his first mission after buck went down. he didn't even think about it he just saw jack and ran over and did it. and then when brady asked him about it. he just straight up said "buck always hated that jacket" bitch WHAT

provoking col harding for no reason unprovoked. in front of the men!!! his self destructive tendencies and distaste for authority compel me

also when he starts yelling at that nazi guard on the march. that's such a good moment i get the impression that most of what bucky does is (to some extent) calculated like he knows hes being a dick he knows he flying too close to the sun and thats what he wants yknow he wants to egg people on but this moment he just completely lets go thats the pure thoughtless rage thats been simmering the whole series. god.

offscreen moment (forgive me) but not letting them send bucks footlocker back to the states. and then the 100th kept it for a full year like what did he say??? how desperate was he that no one could bring themselves to move bucks footlocker after a year???

stalag baseball scene. when you put on your off-putting and hard to be around-sona because you feel yourself to be so abandoned and abused that any semblance of gentleness would make you bare your teeth and bite. when you want to bite. when you dont want to bite.

willingly got a dart thrown at his face so he could give his boy best friend a bike so they could bike around together. ohhh my god bitch. down so bad its pathetic

whatever the hell he did to get on the regensberg mission and also the regensberg mission in general. pushing one of the gunners out of the way cause they were going for buck. "reserve command pilot" or whatever. i know what you are.

i dont remember the scene exactly but before the mission when they are getting their gear and hes like "call me sir" and crank goes "none of the people we're bombing today shot down buck" and then he just goes. absolutely silent. nothing to say to that. outline in the shape of a person moment.

#not necessarily in order of best to less better but i think you can tell which moments i spin around in my head lol #ask

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minnaci · 2 months

Text

death cannot harm you in any way that matters, but when you wake up to astarion's fangs in your neck, a part of you regrets missing out on the most human of experiences— intimacy, connection, and love. perhaps you shouldn't have invited him to join your party.

contents: astarion x gn!reader, suggestive, neck kissing, astarion-typical toxicity (astarion nearly kills reader but it's romantic... trust), based on the early scene in bg3 when astarion first joins the party and kills tav, reader has never been in a relationship and is inexperienced in romance and sex, thoughts on death

you wake to two sharp points of pleasure-pain at your throat. consciousness swims around you, slow and hazy like a smoke from a dying candle. "astarion?"

"hush, little thing." sure enough, your newest traveling companion's voice caresses your ears. ah, vampires. always so hungry. perhaps if you had awoken earlier, you would still have the will to fight him off. but now, warmth floods your body. your perception narrows to delicious sharpness of his fangs against your skin, to the steady, demanding weight of his body over yours.

"feels good," you stumble over the syllables, tongue thick in your mouth. a moan escapes you— a graceless, wanton thing. black creeps into the edges of your vision, but a sudden sense of urgency creeps into your heart. it's imperative that he knows— "astarion, 's so good."

"of course. sweet little things like you deserve a bit of pleasure now and again, don't they?" something dark tints the edges of his voice. you get the sense that he's not really listening to you, and it makes you pout. he's too focused on draining you dry, it seems. for shame! you muster the energy to wiggle a bit in his grasp, and astarion detaches long enough to coo at you. "now, now, don't fuss. just keep feeling good for me, darling."

you wiggle a bit more, a hint of a frown crossing your face. death has never scared you. it's simply the next great adventure, you think, with an added bonus of reuniting with the loved ones you'd lost along the way. that being said...

"i don't want to die yet," you say, even as your eyes roll back in your head. the feeling of blood draining from your neck into astarion's warm, wanting mouth makes your head spin. "you shouldn't kill me yet."

"and why is that?" he humors you once more, pulling back long enough to look you in the eye. you reach up to caress his cheek— trembling and tender. surprise flits across his face. his hand comes up to steady yours, as if on instinct.

"i haven't done everything i want to do yet." you struggle to focus. his features distort in your vision, but his cheek remains firm under your touch.

"oh? and what would those things be?"

"wanna be kissed." something about the blood loss makes the truth feel less pathetic to you. "wanna be fucked. wanna feel wanted. you probably don't get it. you're too pretty to understand."

there's a lengthy pause as your eyes flutter shut. your eyelids are simply too heavy to open. for a second, you think that maybe you've died already, but the pressure of his hand over yours keeps you clinging to life.

"...i can't do this to you." astarion huffs, as if the vestigial remnants of his moral code have personally slighted him. "you poor, pathetic thing. the only things you crave are simple touches?"

"'s not simple. 's everything. everything i've ever wanted."

"kissing and fucking aren't all that they're made out to be, darling." for the first time since you met him, astarion's voice loses that charming, snake-oil quality. "and feeling wanted doesn't always feel good, you know."

"i don't know," you say.

"hmm?" distantly, you feel surprisingly strong arms rearranging your limbs. a skin full of cool water appears at your lips, and a blanket is drawn carefully over your prone form.

"i don't know how it feels to be wanted." you pry open your eyes with herculean strength. astarion's face swims before you, sharp angles and delicate features highlighted by the light of the moon. "will you show me, astarion?"

"no." he smiles, and something shutters closed in his expression— some hint of vulnerability that you hadn't even realized he'd revealed until it was gone. his smile is an ugly, tight-lipped thing, so removed from how enchanting he normally is— he's dark and bitter as the coffee grounds you've squirreled away in your pack. you're vaguely aware of a new tension in his shoulders, a new set to the corners of his mouth. he's scared, you realize, the epiphany coming through a fog of semi-consciousness. what does he have to be scared of? you're the one who initiated, you're the one who put your weakly-beating heart on the line. "i'm afraid the cost of my love isn't a price you'd be willing to pay."

"that's okay," you say, letting your eyes close once again. exhaustion reigns over your bones, flows through your veins. somehow, rejection manages to hurt worse than imminent death. "thank you, though."

"for what, darling?"

for listening. for not laughing. for being kinder in his rejection than anyone has before.

"for not killing me," is what you finally settle on.

astarion does laugh, then, and that strange tension around him dissipates. "you really are too precious. here, my darling. take this as a consolation prize."

you're too tired to say you don't want a consolation prize— you've been the consolation prize your whole life. warm breath ghosts over your skin, and a soft pair of lips brushes over your forehead, your cheeks. there's a pause, then the barest hint of pressure over the corner of your mouth.

"there." astarion's voice filters into your brain from far, far away. "now you can't say you've never been kissed."

tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #writemin!#+astarion

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ceruleancattail · 4 months

Note

*climbs up from the pits of flaming torturous despair*

HELLO GOOD FELLOW, MAY I HUMBLY REQUEST SOME YANDERE ROOK HUNT PLEASE??? PERHAPS “A HUNT” PER SE, THAT COULD BE AN INTERESTING CONCEPT!!! AU REVOIR!!!

*sinks back down*

Cruel

Yandere Rook x reader

Tw: yandere, suffocation, mentions of vomit and gore

You could feel the grime right under your nails.

Little pieces of dirt and soil jutting deep into the tender skin of your fingertips, staining them a dark, deep earthy brown. They ached, a dull sensation that gnawed away at your very soul.

The pain sank its fangs into your palm, all those little fragments cutting deep as you clawed at the ground. Digging your hands deep into the earth, forcing yourself forward inch by inch. Crawling across the ground like some pitiable insect, ready to be trampled underfoot by some unaware foot.

In hindsight, you would have been better off that way. If only you were insignificant enough to be crushed, unnoticeable to the masses. Feeble enough to be ignored by him.

Unfortunately, you’ve managed to catch the eye of a rather skilled hunter. For all you run, you’ll never truly escape him. Rook’s rather proud of his eyesight, after all.

It’ll be a shame if the word got out about his prey escaping his grasp.

The rustling of foliage. The unmistakable crunch of dried leaves, crushed underfoot. Spitting out a curse, you ceased all movement. Rook was more than capable of moving silently through the woods.

Him making noise was a taunt, directed towards you. A smug, accursed way of announcing that the hunt was over.

He won.

Gulping back the nausea lapping at the back of your throat, you froze on the spot. Forcing your limbs to go limp, flopping pathetically onto the ground. Fighting the urge to shiver, steeling your veins.

Desperately wishing for your heart to slow, that deafening pounding drowning out every coherent thought in your mind. All there were was grabbled instincts howling away, demanding to be heard.

“I’m scared.” “It hurts.” “Get me out of here.”

“Oh, ma beauté! Just how wonderful you look!”

At the sound of that ever so familiar chirp, all you thought of was:

“Run.”

It took all your willpower not to scramble onto your feet in a last-ditch attempt to flee the scene. Instead, your teeth sunk deep into the flesh of your lips, letting a sickeningly sweet metallic taste drip onto your tongue.

Stay. Still.

“You gave me quite the chase for that one! I was almost afraid I lost you for good, ma cherie.”

His voice was coated with concern, every single letter dripping into your ears with a hiss. Rook’s voice was acidic, corroding every crevice of your ears. For all the wonderful pet names he comes up with for you, that’s all they are.

Empty, meaningless names for a mere pet. A creature to care for, a creature to control.

Even without looking up, you could picture Rook’s patronising smirk with crystal clarity in your mind. The way it leans onto the side, twitching with amusement… it made you sick.

You could feel the leather of his gloves on your skin, trailing upwards the length of your body. Two fingers slipped right beside your throat, pressing gingerly against its side. Measuring your pulse.

Rook taps lightly against your neck, humming to himself softly.

“You’re still breathing, mon bien-aimé. Why do you not speak?”

A weight pressed against the nape of your neck, his fingers digging a little more firmly into the flesh of your throat, pressing onto it with just a little more force. Not enough to totally cut off your breathing, but enough to make your lungs burn, collapsing into themselves. Your breaths grow so much more frantic, so much more desperate as you pant, desperate for air.

Your fingers reach for his own, clawing at them like some feral beast. Yet even with all your strength, the most you could do was to blindly bat at his hands. Your vision blurred, your surroundings swarmed by black splotchy dots, determined to mare your vision.

Something warm flowed from your lips, the putrid smell flooding your nostrils. Your own spittle, mixing with the heavy, stiffening stench of freshly upturned dirt.

In the midst of all your suffering, you could vaguely hear Rook’s chuckle. Light and airy, as if you two were having a casual chat at some cafe instead of him strangling you.

“How does that feel, chérie? It hurts, doesn’t it?”

Rook doesn’t even bother waiting for you to answer, before he continues.

“That’s how I feel, when you ignore me like that. It hurts, so very much. Like a someone has driven a stake into my heart, and left the rust to fester.

Don’t you think that’s so cruel?”

Laughing to himself, Rook finally loosens his hold. Leaving you to collapse onto the ground, chest heaving heavily. Your lungs scramble, gathering up as much air as your windpipe would allow, to replace all the oxygen squeezed out by Rook’s own two cruel hands.

“Ah, you’re lucky you’ve enchanted me, darling. I do spoil you terribly much.”

Taking a knee, Rook lowers himself to your eye level. Raising his hand towards his lips, teeth gingerly biting down on the very edge of his glove. A pause, before he pulls it off in one fluid motion.

His bare hand reaches for your chin, tilting it upwards as gently as he could.

“Now, what do we say when someone’s nice to you?”

His nails dig into your flesh. A silent warning.

Speak.

Choking back a sob, you stutter:

“T… thank you. Thank you… Rook.”

Upon hearing you speak, Rook beams.

“There we go, Ma Cherie! See, was that so hard?”

You shake your head slowly, tears brimming at the corner of your eyes. If Rook notices, he doesn’t let on. He chatters away about how hard the chase was this time, and how lucky you were to have someone like him as a boyfriend. There are hardly any noble souls left in this world that appreciate a good hunt.

He clutches at your hands, forcing his fingers to intertwine with yours. Your dirt-covered hands, throbbing a raw red. Rook speaks, muttering in a feverish, almost frantic tone.

“You and I? We were made for each other.

So by all means, mon bien-aimé. Run. Run as far as you can.

I’ll always find you.”

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panda-writes-kpop · 3 months

Text

Demon! Dreamcatcher - Giving You A Helping Hand

a/n: i wrote this to help me with my dami b-day fic... so spoilers for that, perhaps? (this has nothing to do with the fic, i just had brain rot from my own idea... and wrote this instead of the fic 🤦‍♀️) I'll get back to requests and that fic eventually, I hope. 🫠

tw: lots of blood and gore for headcannons, demon eats human, the same human gets brutally murdered again and again, my opinions about what sin each girl represents, someone spits on a dead body, lots of death, DC are murder wives (literally)

♡ Masterlist ♡

Prompt - okay, this was pathetic. You couldn't even fight off one person who sent a right hook into your jaw. You didn't want to call her since she'll probably kill the person in front of you, but they started it by pulling out a switchblade.

Yeah, pleasantries went out the door a long time ago. Fuck, this was a bad idea.

Yet you still summon your girlfriend to your side.

○●○●○●○

• Your girlfriend didn't have the most elegant summoning pose - she was in the middle of biting an invisible dish.

JiU - Demon of Gluttony

• Annoyed, she turns to you before smiling and going to greet you...

• -before she notices the small cut on your face.

• Her head snaps to the other direction, noticing the other person who looks terrified at Minji's sudden change in demeanor.

• "I've always wondered what human meat tastes like."

• She lunges and tackles the person to the ground, and you close your eyes as blood and guts fly everywhere

• Not a bit of human flesh lands on you before Minji calls your name.

• You open your eyes to see her wiping her face of blood (as if her clothes and hands aren't soaked in the color red).

SuA - Demon of Pride

• "C'mon, my dear, I've still got leftovers back in hell. Shall we enjoy them together?"

• She's happy you called her - why wouldn't you call the best demon girlfriend to assist you?

• Oh, someone's bothering you? SuA simply opens a portal to hell behind the person and nonchalantly flings them into the portal.

• "Don't worry, babe, I won't touch them. Cerberus will tear them to pieces. :)"

• You forget how terrifying (and hot) she is at times.

• SuA, without dropping her smile, approaches you and gently places her hand on your cheek.

• With a bit of mischievous demon magic, the cut on your face is healed without a scar to be seen.

• She grabs your hand and drags you to a nearby bar.

Siyeon - Demon of Lust

• "Let's go have fun and forget about that miserable person, baby. Doesn't that sound like a much better way to end the night?"

• Your girlfriend drips charisma as she appears in a brilliant display of pink smoke.

• Her eyes glance between the two of you as a wicked smile appears on her face.

• "Well, what do we have here?"

• Siyeon corners your opponent and pins them to a wall with one of her hands as the other strokes their face.

• "You're going to regret ever touching them, you wretched little thing." Her voice drips venom as your attacker's face changes from pleasure to fear.

• The darkness of the night hides the gorey scene as Siyeon, in a brutal display of power, rips every body part from the other person.

• Once she's done, with a snap of her fingers, the blood on her, the ground, and the cut on your face are completely gone.

Handong - Demon of Wrath

• "Now we can enjoy the night together without any disturbances, right?"

• There's no warning after you summon Handong. She simply goes into attack mode after spotting the other person.

• They scream in terror and pain, but she simply scoffs at them

• "Should've thought about that before you punched them, huh?"

• Of course she knows about that, your girlfriend knows about every time someone wrongs you so she can correct things in your favor.

• With nothing but her hands, she's literally ripped them to shreds in what must be a world record.

• "Didn't even put up a fight." She rolls her eyes before landing another punch to their body. "Tsk, what a shame."

• You're the one who has to pull her off of them, with a gentle reminder that the other person was dead a long time ago.

• "I want to make sure that there's no chance that resurrection can happen, my dear." She hisses before spitting on the body.

Yoohyeon - Demon of Greed

• She's not always like this, you swear.

• "Hey, I was busy planning another bank robbery that would be totally foolproof! What are you-"

• She pauses as she looks at you and then the other person.

• "Well, you'll work as bait for Cerberus so SuA doesn't interfere in my plans."

• She snaps her fingers and the other person disappears, but you swear you can hear them scream in the background as you talk to Yooh.

• "They'll have a quick death, I promise!" She squeezes your hands as you nod and agree.

• In her hand, she offers you a bandaid. When you go to grab it, however, she snatches the bandaid away from your grasp.

• "Let me do it, babe!" She whines before opening up the bandaid. "It's the least I can do."

Dami - Demon of Envy

• She's awfully cute for a terrifying, murderous demon.

• She has a less flashier entrance than the other demons, and a less visible response to the other person.

• Her way of handling things is much less brutal. She simply places both of her hands on the person before gently pushing them against the wall.

• Their eye color changes to orange before running off while muttering on about coveting things or people (you can't really tell).

• Dami's attention turns to you as she wipes away any bruises, marks, or blood with the touch of her hand.

• "Are you alright, my dear?"

• Once you've fully reassure her that you're okay, you ask her why she didn't murder the other person in front of you.

• "I know that violence will scare you away, and that's the last thing I want. You shouldn’t be scared of me, darling."

Gahyeon - Demon of Sloth

• For someone who was created to be an incarnate version of envy, she sure doesn't show it off a lot.

• You've summoned her to you, but she's sleeping while standing up.

• So much for getting help from the demon representing sloth. You should probably know better at this point.

• When your attacker tries to approach you with the knife, Gahyeon holds out her arm and catches the other person's arm.

• She then proceeded to harshly throw them into a wall, giving them a quick death with a lot of head trauma.

• Without waking up, she sleep walks over to you. (How does she not fall over her own feet?)

• "There's something on your cheek." She mumbles in her sleep as you touch your face. "You should fix that."

• Thanks, Gahyeon, that's really helpful.

• "I'm going back to bed and I need a pillow." She says before pulling you into her arms. "You're coming with me."

• You can't break out of her grasp as she sinks into the ground, but you give up and accept your fate. That's simply how your girlfriend is.

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moghedien · 21 days

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honestly I'm just constantly obsessing over the Lae'zel romance scenes, but like I think I've finally decided which version of the duel (you winning or her) I prefer from just like a character standpoint.

because in the moment I went back and forth with both versions because I wasn't sure, but then ended up staying with the version where I win, and I think that's my preference now because it just feels like a subtler but more intense mind fuck to Lae'zel if you take everything that happened up into this point into account.

and do not get my wrong, i think the version where she wins is absolutely a mind fuck to her for many reasons, and I do love it. like her realizing that you aren't weak and she's like horrified at having hurt you and that very concept confusing her? amazing. we love her for it.

but if you win the duel, I feel like that forces her to recontextualize soo much more if you played the romance how I did at least. because basically any time she told me to submit, i did. I never tried to be the dominant one. I never even really teased her for being soft in certain circumstances or got snarky with her or got upset when she'd be like possessive and demeaning.

and I imagine that the githyanki sex rituals dictate that like the weaker one is submissive one and so obviously Lae'zel was the stronger one your relationship and if you did nothing to dissuade her of that fact then you obviously agree. there's no love or preference in it. There's just like desire and physical need and ability that decides who's doing what.

and I feel like this is backed up by the conversation when you can turn the one night stand into a two night stand, where she's like "you look weak and pathetic when you look at me. you look terrified." And also the fact that you can request that she stay and cuddle you afterward in that scene and she's like, baffled and upset by that suggestion. She calls it pointless grappling and a waste of muscles. like sex is combative to her. If you're not fighting for dominance or directly getting off in that moment, then what's the point? and if you embarrass her by suggesting she's never cuddled before, then she tries to get back at you by pointing out that she killed some kind of creature and you haven't. like do not get it twisted. dominance in sex is like expressly tied to actual strength and weakness outside of sex to her.

So if you win the duel? If you've been unquestioningly letting her dominant you in every sexual encounter and then only to turn around and fucking annihilate her in battle the first time you're actually going head to head, 1v1?

Imagine how much that must fuck with her perceptions what your relationship has been up until this point.

Because now its not even just her realizing that she has feelings for you that she doesn't know how to deal with. Oh no. She's realizing that every single time she's told you to submit and you did, its not because you couldn't dominate her. Its not because you were afraid of her or thought you were weaker than her. Its not because you couldn't flip things around on her. its not just that you were so lustful toward her that you submitted just to be able to have sex. It's because you specifically wanted to be the submissive one and you wanted her to do what she wanted with you.

You coulda kicked her ass at any time. And you never even tried. You never even hinted at it.

and god, the cuddling? You didn't want that just to distract or as some trick to exhaust her? You just wanted to cuddle? you wanted to be soft and hold each other just for the sake of it?

and the fact that its only after the duel that she asks you to be gentler with each other now and she says its the most terrifying thing she's ever done just kinda hammers that home for me. Because she realized it isn’t weakness that makes her (and you) want those things. It’s still scary to ask for though…

Like I'm just saying, if you've just unquestionably submitted to her and then you kick her ass, then she's not just grappling with the fact that she's having feelings. She's grappling with the fact that you've been having feelings this entire time and were much more aware of it than her, and that didn’t make you weak, so maybe it doesn’t make her weak either?

#lae'zel #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #lae’zel

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wulfhalls · 9 months

Text

stewyrava the succ dynamic. to me. in the succession in my head they had so many scenes. they exchange polite pleasantries in so many different situations so many dinners and charity auctions and corporate functions while trying to kill each other with their minds. ken invites stewy to one of the kids birthdays. he brings a thoughtful gift. charms all of ravas friends (and fucks ken in an upstairs bathroom). stewy is exhibiting behaviour during his best man speech peppering in the fact that he knows kendall better than anyone knows him better than anyone ever will that he knows him fully and to the core that no one could ever compare that they have history and history and history while rava smiles knowing despite all of it he won't be the one fucking her husband tonight. two beautiful queen's fighting over the most pathetic sad sack wet lil man ever. simply the most television ever. a lot of people are saying this

#txt.me #succession #kenstew #kenstewy #they both think the other one is the mistress

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velvet-vox · 1 month

Text

"Doll had no character arc"

"Her death was meaningless"

"We know nothing about her"

That is false.

This is a response to a post of user @rad10active-ketchup regarding (spoiler) Doll's death in the new episode of Murder drones, in particular to these replies:

These points are most likely rooted in the belief that Doll's death was handled poorly from a writing standpoint, and while I consider it a fair interpretation to have given that writing something to be intentionally disappointing will always feel unpleasant to a consumer, I believe that the reasons found to justify said feeling in the replies are disingenuous and flat out wrong, and I am going to debunk each and every single one of them independently.

Starting off with:

The character development

Doll has for the most part a flat character arc in all the scenes that she appears in, but that doesn't mean that she had no development at any point; first of all, there's most obviously her villain arc, caused by the death of her parents, the solver, the loneliness and lack of mentor figures and general mental illness, during the prom scene, she has reached peak villainy in the series, only saving Lizzie's life because she has mentally assessed the people to care about and the others and even when shot in the head she doubles down on her tendencies and keeps being a menace, but that's where she discovers that Uzi also has the solver and for the first time in ever she has someone who shares her pain but is on the "enemy" side. This starts a continuous chain of doubt in her mind that she overcomes only at the end of episode 6 when she completes her negative character arc by sacrificing Uzi for the cure in the raptor trap, spelling out her doom in the next episode where in her last moments she does her first and only step of a positive character arc by inciting her to fight back the solver with all her forces. Doll is given many chances to switch to the other side and stop being a villain, but she refuses every single one and her reality check only comes on her death bed when it's already too late.

The impact of her death

First of all Rebecca "died" in front of 4 other people while Doll dies only in front of Uzi, who outside of her genuine shock later swears to fake Tessa that it wasn't her doing but someone else, all while pretty terrified herself. Nori and N also come there, but they are too busy with everything else going on to notice, also, neither of them ever cared about Doll. And Cyn... come on.

What do we know about her

First of all, she is quite literally "Uzi if things got even worse" most of her traits are darker reflections of Uzi or an improved version of Uzi's skills, including her aura of mystery, there to be the cool factor that Uzi tries so hard to achieve but fails. She also has the same goal as Uzi, but without the hero complex part whose substitute by her belief of being the chosen one by the solver and fated to bring about the end of the world. She's sadistic, delusional, traumatized, stubborn, russian and a pathetic wet cat of a person whose inability to change denied her the answers that she so desperately craved.

#murder drones doll #murder drones ep 7 #murder drones spoilers #murder drones n #murder drones rebecca #murder drones uzi #murder drones cyn #murder drones tessa #murder drones nori #murder drones lizzy #murder drones #murder drones analysis

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cellias · 5 months

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ok yes the “she met a pinecone’s fate” felt so mean and out of place with the empathetic Percy we see in the book’s narrative BUT !!

when rewatching the scene my attention was brought back to what annabeth says before that— “she fought valiantly and met a hero’s fate.” i remember thinking about how brainwashed (for lack of a better word) annabeth is. she respects the gods immensely at this point in her life, all she wants is for her mother to notice her, because that’s all she knows. her father let the emotional neglect go so far that she ran away at seven years old, and her mother only communicates with her a few times.

her idea of a hero is the willingness to self-sacrifice, and the bearing of tragedy in life, but this idea disregards the fact that had the gods been more attentive and present, thalia wouldn’t have had to do sacrifice her life. her concept of a hero’s fate ignores the unjust fact that thalia was only recognized by her father in death and is hyper-focused on the honor that it is to be given a god’s time of day. we also see annabeth holding the gods to a high esteem later in the episode when she argues with medusa in favor of the story that she’s heard rather than what the person who lived through it has to say. as well as when she tries to stop percy from sending medusa’s head to olympus.

this ties into percy’s “impertinent” behavior toward the gods. we know percy thinks the gods are fucked up, he shows it in the book and the series early on when he learns about them. he’s mad at poseidon and acknowledges that it’s his fault sally is gone, unprotected and seemingly unnoticed, and that percy is kinda left to fend for himself in a new world. in the series he prays to his mom instead of his father despite seeing the tribute the other kids give to their godly parents. he rejects that side of his parentage because he feels his mom is the only one who deserves the credit for his life. he says that the gods had been unfair to thalia in the book when he learns about her. he defends himself against the Zeus’s accusation by saying “‘i’m just a kid!’” i think that line is important, and especially what annabeth says about it later on, because it shows how different their mindsets are.

percy has been protected and loved by his mom his entire life up to this point. she’s tried to give him a good life, and that’s the root of his character. he realizes the incredulity of this entire situation because he has not been fighting to survive without the love and support of a parent since he was young. annabeth left her home at a young age, was left in dangerous conditions, and fought for her life when she was only 7, and she’s been training for war ever since. she’s surrounded by kids who went through the same thing, specifically luke and formerly thalia. in the series, annabeth takes the “I’m just a kid” claim and reveals she finds it naive and ignorant, because he’s a part of something bigger than him and that he needs to accept his fate. (again, she’s been preparing for this her whole life, he’s been thrust into it after losing his mom)

when percy hears this story from grover about three demigods on the run, two of them near his age when they went through it, he is hearing a story about three kids being ignored and left to fend for themselves by their parents. he’s already angry about the gods’ lack of interference and how normal it seems to be at camp. when he hears annabeth regard thalia and her ultimate fate as heroic and respectable, he doesn’t see it as the same. he finds thalia heroic and brave, but her fate not so much. annabeth’s admiration contrasts his questioning toward the gods. percy most likely found Zeus’s decision to finally notice his daughter by turning her into a tree as anything but heroic, more pathetic.

at least that’s how i interpret the “she met a pinecone’s fate” line. I think it adds to his reputation and growing disdain for the gods and their attitude. idk what do u guys think 😫

#not me writing this instead of doing my hw #pjo #percy jackson #pjo tv series #pjo tv show #annabeth chase #percy jackson and the olympians #grover underwood #thalia grace #celia speaks #…a lot #and I haven’t read the books in so long so if I got smth wrong sorry

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redheadspark · 4 months

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Can i Ask for an Oliver Wood x female reader, with promote 1 were reader is like very smart and they are like enemies to lovers or something. Only if you want of course😊

A/N - YAS! This will be cute for Oliver! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Poke

Summary - You and Oliver were always at each other's necks....until now

Warnings - Just some cute fluff

“You can cut it with a knife,”

“You think so?”

“Come on, look at them!”

Ron looked over at the small argument that unfolded in front of them out on the lawn. It was between you and Oliver Wood, two captains from rival teams that were bickering with each other on practice times on the pitch. It was awkward mostly, since both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams were awkwardly waiting on the sidelines to see who was going to win the verbal spat between their Captains. But this was no real shocker to either team nor was it the first time this has happened.

In fact, this was the fourth time this season alone.

“You’ve always hogged the pitch twenty minutes longer than what’s on the practice schedule, Wood! You needed the extra time because your team’s sloppy?!”

“Come off it, Jones! You must be that bored in counting the minutes until we leave the pitch to gloss up your maneuvers. They’re pathetic!”

“Bloody hell, this is one the worst ones,” Rom grumble as he leaned against his broom that was propped up. His twin brothers were overseeing with small looks of amusement on their faces, arms folded in front of themselves, and looking at their mannerisms and how close you both were at poking each other’s chest with rigid fingers. Of course, to the others that were watching this weren’t seeing what the twins were seeing. They were seeing two Captains who hated each other fight overtime on the pitch.

Where as the twins saw two Captains who had it bad for each other.

Ever since you became Captain of the Ravenclaw team Oliver was intimidated by you since you were sharp and had a great wit about Quidditch. Like Oliver, you grew up on the sport and knew it far more than most of the students at Hogwarts, becoming a Chaser your second year and then Captain a few years later. Although your love for Quidditch was not as intense as Oliver’s, it was still there and you were smart in your tactics and plays to make Raveclaw a challenging team to beat. Gryffindor was the top competitor against them, not even Slytherin could handle themselves again Ravenclaw when you were the Captain. But Oliver saw you as a threat, your eyes ever trained on your teammates and knowing how to stay a few steps ahead of others.

Arguments between you two became a regular ritual, though it would get far too heated at times about Flitwick and McGonagall having to have talks with you two. Of course, you felt bad that you were making such a scene, you knew better since you were representing your House. Then again, you were letting someone like Oliver get under your skin and fester there. His stubbornness, his fiery temper, and his thirst to win, it always rubbed you wrong. It didn’t make things better that you were also harboring a crush on him. His handsomeness in his face and smile, his playing ability in Quidditch, it gave you butterflies when you didn’t really want it.

So your relationship with Oliver was…complicated?

“I bet you 5 galleons she pokes his chest,” George said to his twin as you and Oliver were still arguing back at forth.

“You’re on,” Fred replied as he shook George’s hand. The rest of the players were watching and almost talking to each other as there was a pause in your argument, finally. You and Oliver were nearly nose to nose, but there was a sense of ease then as you both were taking a breath. You realized that arguing with him was not going to make things better, only worse. You inhaled deeply, looking over at your players in their blue robes and you sighed. The last thing you wanted to do was make this worse for them, and perhaps this was an eye-opening moment for you as you looked back at Oliver. He saw the shift in you too, the fire in your eyes was no longer there and you were simply yourself.

“Go ahead,” You replied, Oliver’s eyes going a bit wide as you picked up your broom that was by your boots on the grassy ground, “We’ll go over plays and practice tomorrow,”

Oliver was shocked that you gave in easily, you gripped your room tightly in your fingerless gloves as you were about to walk away. He reached over and placed a hand on your arm, not in a grip but just a simple press of his fingers along your blue robes. You looked at the contact, seeing his fingers near your wrist and how you could almost feel the heat of his skin through your robe.

“You…you sure?” He asked, his voice low and almost uncertain as the heat in his voice was also gone. You two locked eyes again, close enough for him to count your freckles and for you to see the specs in his brown eyes as you nodded. Now that you were close, you were feeling butterflies and almost weak in the knees.

“It’s not a big deal, honestly. We’ll come out to practice tomorrow, don’t worry about…Oliver,”

Oliver felt his own heart skip a beat from you saying his name, and he gulped and nodded his head slowly. You smiled, for the first time at him and he softly smiled too. But before he could walk over to his own team, you gently poked his chest with one finger.

“Make sure you tell your Beaters to not be sloppy with their swings.” You advised him, then turned on your heels to walk off. Your team followed you, asking you what happened and why you had the change of heart as Oliver stood there in shock and looked on at your backside. Without him realizing it, he touched the spot on his chest where your finger touched, gasping like a fish.

George grinned, looking over at Fred with his hand out, “You owe me 5,”

“Shut it,”

The End.

January Prompt Session

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

#oliver wood x female reader #oliver wood prompts #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood #oliver wood x y/n #oliver wood x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter writing #hp fic #hp fanfic

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empresskylo · 2 years

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𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 – 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 「 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝 」 r.h. masterlist

━━━━━‧₊˚➛ hopper regrets his building feelings for you, deciding it's best to cut this fling off before you learn to regret it.

pairing ‧₊˚➛ jim hopper x afab!reader

tags ‧₊˚➛18+ content, smut || unprotected sex, age gap, blood, angst, reader described as small and having hair that can be tucked behind ear. reader refers to self as a 'girl'.

w.c.‧₊˚➛ 7434

a.n. ‧₊˚➛ sorry for the wait, but here is the final part to ride home. as you can see, it's longer than usual which is why it took so long. i hope you enjoy! (and yes, this is the final part)

masterlist. navi.

A few weeks had passed since that night Jim Hopper touched you under the dining room table.

Things with Hopper had been going… good. And if by good you meant that you were having sex any time you saw one another and blatantly ignoring the rising feelings stirring inside each of your chests. Then, yeah, things were going good.

Just tell him! A voice rose in the back of your throat like hot bile. You shoved it down. Nope, you weren’t going to bring it up. Isn’t that how things were always ruined? The woman catches feelings and makes things incredibly awkward to the point where the relationship is cut off entirely. You didn’t want to lose Hopper, so you were just going to have to tough it out and accept the fact that he only wanted you for sex.

But what you didn’t know was that Hopper was fighting the exact same feeling. It’s maddening how blind the two of you were. For God’s sake, Jim almost moaned out an ‘I love you’ while he was balls deep inside of you the other day. You convinced yourself that you just misheard him.

Jim pushed you down further into his mattress, his cock hitting you so hard that you had to muffle your cries afraid they would break his eardrum. His hand was locked in your hair and your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. Your soft whines underneath him were sending him over the edge. Your eyes fluttered up at him as he kept rolling his hips into you. “Jim…” You mumbled, completely entranced. You looked like an angel under him, glowing in ecstasy as you mewled into his chest. He felt himself begin to spill into you, your head shook side to side as you tried to contain your moans but they slid off your tongue like honey. Jim groaned in your ear, “Fucking hell. You’re so good. So—perfect. Shit, I lov—“ He masked his mistake with a loud moan as you tightened around him at his praise.

Why were you both torturing one another?

Jim fiddled with his pen as he stared down at the same paragraph he had been rereading for the past five minutes. He was busy contemplating a way to get to see you again.

That’s where the stupidity started kicking in. The two of you each decided—without talking to the other person—that this was solely about lust and sex. So your meetings only ever revolved around that. Both of you would have been happy simply talking most of the time (Jim wanted to take you out to dinner so badly and get to see you all dressed up for him.) But you both also thought the other was in this unconventional coupling for a different reason. So, alas, your rendezvous only ever resulted in sex. (Granted, you both craved each other desperately that it wasn’t much of an issue.)

You came up behind Hopper and tapped him on the shoulder. He spun around to face you, surprised by your appearance. “I was writing a piece for the school paper.” You shrugged the notepad in your hand towards him. “Can I ask you some questions?” Jim tried to look annoyed, but you were so fucking cute as you innocently requested his time.

“You know I can’t give out information…” You looked up at him with the most pathetically sweet doll eyes, your lips pouting. He took a deep breath in, closing his eyes.

Hopper was the only one at the scene so he decided it wouldn’t be too risky (i.e. he wasn’t very good at hiding his desire for you and it would be blatantly obvious to anyone who witnessed your interactions.)

He walked around to the back of his truck and pulled down the tailgate so you could sit. His hands slid around your waist and he helped you jump up. You felt your cheeks warm, the feeling of his fingers lingering long after he pulled them away. You tried to focus and began writing in your notepad while Hopper leaned his hip against his truck. After a few minutes of questioning, you had gotten what you needed. You both wanted to continue talking to one another, but you’d never admit that. You both thought the other would be irritated. This was clearly only about lust.

“S’that it?” Jim asked. You set your notepad down and reached out and grabbed his hand. “What’re—“ You yanked him towards you so he stood between your legs. His eyes darkened as he tentatively watched your moves. “Just one more thing,” you whispered. Jim’s eyelids fell heavy, your hands slid up to the collar of his shirt and you pulled him in towards you until your lips were connected. His mustache tickled as he kissed you. It made you giggle. That sound almost made Hopper collapse. He was falling for you at an alarming speed. And he knew he could never have you like that. So this would have to be enough.

He grabbed your butt and heaved you towards him, your clothed core pressing against Jim’s rough jeans. He quickly fiddled with his pants, already hard beyond belief, and you did the same with your own. When he finally slid himself into you, bottoming out completely, you both exhaled in relief. He felt so right inside you. You stared up at him, wanting to savor every moment you had with him. He traced your face, you were so perfect. Your lips were parted and he could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He took a moment to take you in entirely before he gave you what you wanted and thrusted in and out of you so that you moaned out his name.

You were sat in your living room, spacing out at the television as you laid horizontally along your couch. Your hand raised to change the channel then lazily collapsed and hung off the couch and onto the floor. You looked up at the ceiling. If only you had an excuse to go visit Hopper at the station. You knew he was working late tonight. Usually, your dad was a good excuse, dropping off his lunch or just checking in with him. But your dad was currently rummaging through a box of old paperwork on the living room floor, huffing to himself as he struggled to find whatever ancient archive he was looking for.

Wait. Your dad didn’t have to be at the station in order for him to act as your wingman. You could simply go pick something up that he ‘forgot’. You stumbled to your feet and ran up the stairs, gaining a curious glance from your father.

You changed and ran out the door, telling your dad you were going to a friend’s house. If you wasted any more time than that, you might have talked yourself out of going.

It was pathetic, really. But you didn’t care, you just wanted to see Jim. The way his grumpy face would slightly soften when you appeared. You loved when he tried to be annoyed with you and would call you silly names. Or the way he would call you kid–like your parent’s friends would– while he was standing before you, rock hard. Your heart fluttered just thinking about it.

Hopper huffed and sat back in his chair, the silent station driving him mad. And just as he thought that, the loud noise of fumbling footsteps sounded outside his office.

Then the footsteps were coming closer, and closer until they were right outside his door. Hopper felt his heart rush. The door creaked open and Flo stepped in, a clutch of paperwork in her arms.

Hopper sighed for the millionth time that night (but what’s new?) His heart resumed to its normal pace and he grumbled something to Flo. “Just received these,” she said, gesturing to the papers in her hands. “Said it was urgent.”

Hopper stood up and sulked over to the door. “Yeah, thanks, Flo. I’ll get right on that.” Hopper took the work from her and she rolled her eyes. “Sure you will.” That gained a smirk from Jim.

She went to turn around but stopped, then spoke over her shoulder. “Oh, and you have a visitor.”

Jim turned back to his office door and saw Flo slip away down the hall and your frame appear where hers just was.

You meekly waved at him. Hopper set the folder down on his desk and turned to you, leaning on the edge of his desk.

“Are you stalking me?” He teased.

“I can leave if you want.”

Hopper shook his head, feeling a flush rise to his cheeks. “No. It’s fine. You can come in.”

You shyly slipped into his office, closing the door as you did.

When you turned to face Hopper again, he saw the look of worry spread across your face. But it wasn’t his place to ask.

“My dad had left some stuff in his desk he needed. Thought I’d stop in and say ‘hello’.”

Hopper grinned. “Oh, yeah? You just wanted to say hi? Nothing more?”

You felt a chill run up your spine. Shit. Did you really sound that desperate?

You stuttered, “No-no, I just—I—“

“I’m just messin’ with ya, kid.”

Hopper hated to see this anguish plastered blankly across your face. You barely even smiled at him. Maybe you were finally regretting wasting your time with him and realized you made a mistake sleeping with this mean, old grump.

Hopper paused before pushing himself off of his desk, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Listen, I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” He sat down in his chair, his legs spread wide as he leaned on his thighs.

You approached him, leaning your hip on the edge of his desk.

His eyes scanned yours and he felt himself try to hold back what he wanted to say. He couldn’t keep being selfish. You were clearly ruining your life being with Hopper. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but still. You were obviously going through something that was making you rebel. What better way than to sleep with your dad’s boss? (Well, technically Hopper wasn’t his boss. But that’s beside the point.) This was never going to sit well on your conscience once you grew up and had an epiphany about all your poor choices. And Hopper didn’t want to be remembered as one of your mistakes.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” He gestured between the two of you. “Actually, it’s an awful idea and I’m sorry for keeping it going for so long.”

You rolled your eyes. “God, not this again. I’ll admit, it was kinda hot when you saw the ambivalence of the situation, but it’s getting old, Hop.”

“See, that’s what I’m saying. Even you realize that this is wrong.”

“That’s not what I—“

He said your name breathlessly, his fingers coming up to pinch between his brows in annoyance. “It’s just… What are we gonna do?” His voice was raising in tempo and it made you feel small. “Just keep fucking around, until what? How long are we gonna drag this shit out?”

“Hopper, I—“

“Listen, I know you probably thought it was cool to rebel or whatever and seduce the chief of police, but this isn’t going anywhere. And I can’t keep sleeping around with a high schooler. Fuck.”

You felt tears well in your eyes. “I graduate in a month.”

Jim sighed. “That’s not the point I’m trying to make.”

“So, you’re just done? Just like that? Because… Because you’re worried about my choices? Because of what everyone in town would think about you if they found out?” Your words were laced with fire.

“Yeah. Pretty much,” he said coolly, but his heart was hurting as he watched your eyes puddle with tears. It was all a facade.

A tear betrayed you and rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Jim’s eyes flickered, breaking his mask for a moment, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around you. “Why can’t you just admit you don’t like me instead of making up such dumb excuses!” Your hands balled up in fists. Jim didn’t say anything. “Fine. Whatever.” You spun around and stormed out. And by the time you made it to the end of the hall, you knew Jim wasn’t chasing after you. He wasn’t going to stop you from leaving. No, he wanted you to leave.

That was not how you thought the night was going to go.

A few weeks had passed and unlike before when you tried to jump Jim’s bones every chance you got, you spent your time avoiding him at all costs.

You felt like you might burst into tears just seeing his face.

You sat on the bleachers, watching the Hawkin’s High basketball team race up and down the court. Your best friend grabbed your arm, whispering something about how cute one of the guys on the other team was. You nodded your head feigning agreement.

You watched, bored beyond belief. This wasn’t usually your thing. You only came because your friend dragged you here. On the far side of the gym, you spotted a burly man in a tan hat step in through the doors. Hopper.

You tried to sink down into your seat. Your eyes shifted to focus on the game but they kept darting to Hopper’s figure in the corner of the gymnasium. You watched as Jim was saying something to your principal, it seemed important based on the way they were speaking and gesturing.

You shook your head and looked back at the players on the court. You instinctively started to pick at your nails, the skin around them beginning to bleed.

The crowd began to roar–Jason Carver just scored. The people around you stood up and cheered, you think you heard Steve Harrington yelling something behind you but all you could make out was something about ‘Sinclair’ and ‘kicking ass’. Your friend looked down at you and nudged your arm, confused as to why you seemed to be so disinterested.

As the crowd settled down again and slowly fell back into their seats, your gaze wandered to the far side of the court once more. Your eyes widened, Jim was looking directly at you. You both held each other’s line of vision for a moment, his pupils narrowing in on you. You quickly looked away, your cheeks feeling abnormally warm.

Suddenly, you didn’t feel like watching the game anymore. “I’m gonna go get some air,” you said in your friend's ear.

“Want me to come?” She asked.

You shook your head and gave her a weak smile, “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded, her eyes still suspicious as she watched you push past classmates to get down to the gym floor.

Your arms wrapped around yourself, feeling small, as you pushed open the doors and stepped out into the night air. The rumble of the game became soft, locked within the school’s brick walls.

You jumped down the stairs and walked over into the parking lot. You didn’t know where you were going, but you had to clear your head.

A few voices carried in the wind off in the distance; some students were trying to be subtle about the fact that they were smoking. You went in the opposite direction until you were on the grass lawn, hidden from the street lamps.

You sat down on the single, lonely bench, sighing as you tried to shake Hopper from your mind. You were so fucking stupid. How could you possibly think Jim Hopper, the fucking chief of police, would be interested in you? Like really interested in you. You were young and had teased him hopelessly for months, of course, he was going to act. Why wouldn’t he? But you wanted more than that.

So stupid, you told yourself as you buried your head in your hands. You tried to hold back sobs, you were already pathetic enough as it was.

A ruffling in the trees past the school’s lawn startled you. Your head shot up. “Hello?” You said quietly. You paused and listened for a moment thinking it might have been those students you saw earlier. You were just being silly, nothing was there.

You pulled your legs up on the bench and into your chest. Maybe you should go back, your friend would be wondering where you went.

The sound of crunching, like a dog devouring a meal, made you jump. Okay, now you were freaking out a little bit. You sat up on the bench, fully alert. Your heart was racing in your chest making it hard to hear anything apart from your pounding heartbeat. Branches breaking got closer and closer to you. You were on your feet and backing up.

That's when you saw it. It was like a person wearing a Halloween mask, but it wasn’t a costume. The bloody skin of the creature reflected in the moonlight, its stature a good three feet taller than you. Your eyes were pried wide open as you backed away, gulping. The creature slowly approached you. You backed away and tripped on a rock, falling to your butt. You made a frightened gasp. The creature came darting toward you. You turned and began crawling away, trying to stand up as you did. You were too scared to even scream out.

Red hot pain flared on your ankle, the claws from the monster were tearing into your flesh.

You groaned, yelling for help now. You tried to kick it off of you, your foot stomping on its large mangled hands making it shriek. “What the fuck,” you said breathlessly.

You managed to get to your feet but you could hear the monster following right behind you, its hand grabbed your shoulder, making you scream.

Bang.

You fell to your knees, the claw slacking its hold and then disappearing altogether.

Bang.

You couldn’t hear anything but the ringing of gunshots bouncing around your skull. You turned, looking at the creature struggling in pain. It had already been wounded and now it had two bullet holes burning through its skin. It looked at you, though you couldn’t spot any eyes, then it turned and ran back off into the forest.

You collapsed on the grass, your hand coming to rest on your head in exhaustion and confusion.

Jim’s frame hovered above you, directly in your line of view. He leaned down and pulled you up, scooping you into his arms bridal style. You could see his mouth moving but you couldn’t make anything out; the ringing washing over everything.

“What was that… thing?” You asked. You were sat atop Jim’s dining table as he rummaged in his bathroom for a first aid kit. You had only been to his place once before and you didn’t get a good look. You glanced around, taking in all his things.

“I have no fucking idea,” he called out to you.

Your legs swung underneath you as you anxiously fidgeted. Your nails came up to your mouth, this was not good. You were stuck in Hopper’s home, in such close proximity. Nothing good could come from this.

Hopper came stomping out of the bathroom with his arms full of an array of random medical supplies. You raised your brow, eyeing him as he set it down on the table beside you. He noticed your glare. “S’all I got,” he shrugged.

He grabbed some spray and a cloth and grabbed your foot. You jumped, his warm fingers grazing your skin. You tried not to think about his hands on your leg as he attempted to clean the wound.

You cleared your throat. “Hop, it’s barely a scratch, I think I’m fine.”

Jim felt his gut lurch when you said his name. “Don’t know where that freaky fuck came from, better safe than sorry and clean it out.”

You slouched back on your hands as you reluctantly let him clean the wound, holding back a smile at his word choice. His fingers tickled as he held your ankle, grabbing a roll of medical bandage wrap, and winding it around the cut. When it was fully dressed, he held your foot still in his hand, his finger pads lingering on your exposed ankle. He slowly looked up at you and immediately released your leg, standing up awkwardly. He grunted and scooped up all the shit he laid out moments earlier and brought it back into the bathroom.

You slid off the table and aimlessly circled his kitchen, hoping he would take you home now. Jim appeared behind you and said your name, reaching out and touching your shoulder. “Ow!” You jumped.

His hand reclined and you both looked to where his fingers just were. Blood was beginning to seep through your shirt. “Shit,” you muttered.

“Fuck, he got you there too?”

“I guess. I think it grabbed my shoulder.” You went to move your shirt and hissed as it clung against the sticky blood.

Jim went to the sink and wrung out a warm cloth, handing it to you. You walked over to him and took it, giving him a passive look. He leaned back against the sink as you tried to move your shirt to the side. You winced and looked up at him.

“Come here,” he mumbled.

You stepped a bit closer and he took the cloth from you, dabbing it on the area to loosen the shirt. He slowly pulled the clothing away from the cut and placed the warm cloth on top of it as a compress. He held it there, his eyes flickering to yours. You gulped. Your cheeks were on fire.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll get you another shirt.”

He turned and went to his bedroom. “No, Jim. It’s fine. I can just change at home.”

Of course, Hopper being Hopper, he walked back out with one of his shirts anyways. He wasn’t going to make you sit in a bloody–and now wet–shirt. He stuck his hand out to you to give you the clothing. His eyes shifted between you and the fabric uncomfortably. Your fingers tentatively reached up and you paused for a moment, your chest racing. “Thank you,” you said meekly.

You grabbed the shirt and Hopper rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ll go put the stuff away…” Hopper said awkwardly.

You nodded and he slowly turned around to go put away the stuff he left on the bathroom sink.

Once Hopper was in the bathroom again you slowly tore your shirt from your body. You winced slightly but once the shirt was off the cut, you felt much better. You looked over at your shoulder. “Shit, it’s not even that bad,” you mumbled, annoyed for acting like such a baby. You grabbed the cloth and started to dab up the stained blood.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I—“

You jumped and looked up at Hopper who was standing wide-eyed in the doorway. You felt a heat rise to your chest and face.

You stared at him, expecting him to shy away and let you finish changing, but he didn’t. He just watched you. You cleared your throat, your arms coming up to lay across your chest (but it’s not like Hopper hadn’t seen it all before.) “Uh. Hop…” You said, shaking your head a bit.

He still didn’t say anything. He stepped closer towards you so he was only inches from your exposed body. “Hop…” You said breathlessly again.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You took in a sharp breath. You looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze. “You can’t…” you stuttered. “Don’t say that to me.”

His fingers surprised you as they touched your jaw and tilted your head up towards him. Your words got lost in your throat. Hopper couldn’t help himself. He slowly leaned in, watching your eyes flutter under him. Your lips parted, you couldn’t seem to stop either. Hopper’s nose rested against yours and his lips teased your own. He breathed your name softly then closed the gap. You felt your body immediately cave into his touch, your knees buckling and your head sinking lower. Jim’s arms wrapped around you to hold you up, moving his lips in rhythm with yours.

Jim’s hands slid around your back, gently pulling your hips into him. He grunted as your body collided with his, your skin incredibly soft under his touch. You pulled away, shaking your head slightly. Hopper looked at you with such certainty, his fingers coming up to trace your unharmed shoulder and then sliding into your hair.

You wouldn’t look up at him, you were too embarrassed. Instead, you focused on his chest as you spoke. Hopper’s fingers continued to play with your hair, lost in thought. “I can’t…”

Jim softly said your name.

You felt hot tears well in your eyes. You shied away, afraid of him seeing you like this. Pathetic. “I’m sorry I ruined things.” Your voice was small.

Hopper’s hands fell to his side.

“You didn’t ruin-“

“I did!” The tears began running down your hot cheeks. “I was getting attached. I was being stupid. So fucking stupid,” your voice got quiet. “I shouldn’t have tricked you like that.”

Jim’s eyes stayed focused on you. “Tricked me?”

“Yeah. It was all just a fun hook-up to you. But I had… I have liked you for a while now.” Jim raised a brow at you. You paused before continuing, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s stupid, but I had a crush on you.” You tried to laugh but it sounded more like a struggling snort as tears kept falling.

Jim closed his eyes, thoughts racing around his head. You gulped as you peered up at him. You just ruined your chances of this ever working out. He might have been a grump, but he wasn’t mean. Once he realized you liked him like that, he wouldn’t lead you on. He’d cut things off for good.

You jumped slightly when you felt Jim’s warm fingers brush along the side of your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. Your breathing hitched in the back of your throat, his eyes were dark, but not like how they usually looked. They were filled with something other than lust.

He whispered your name and you felt your heart flutter.

“That’s not what it was to me.” His words were soft. You wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he spoke any quieter. Your lips parted. He leaned down towards you, your lips drawing closer and closer to one another. “I fell in love with you.” His thumb came up and wiped away your wet cheeks.

You made a noise in the back of your throat. “Y-You did?”

Jim’s mouth ever so slightly turned up before he connected his lips with yours. You felt your body go loose as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you into him. His hand came up to rest on your cheek as he kissed you deeper. Breathlessly, he pulled away. “I thought if I pushed you away, I could prevent you from getting ruined.”

“Ruined?”

“Yeah. What good could come from a big grump falling for a sweet thing like you? You got your whole life ahead of you, kid. I didn’t want you wasting it hooking up with me. So you could get back at your parents? To prove you were mature? I don’t know, but I didn’t want you to regret this,” he motioned between your two bodies.

You felt a smile form on your lips. “And I thought I was the one foolishly-in-love-when-it-was-only-meant-to-be-a-fling.”

He pushed your hair back as he admired you. “Still don’t want you to regret this.” You could hear the worry laced in his words.

Your hands grabbed the hem of his shirt. “No. I…” You paused. “I want you, Hopper. For more than just sex.” His eyes dropped, his hands falling on top of yours as you clung to him. “I know what you’re thinking.” He eyed you. “That your feelings for me are wrong. How you can’t possibly fall for someone like me, let alone hook up with. You’re the chief of police. And I’m just some dumb girl who likes older men apparently. It would never—“ Jim cut you off, smiling as he kissed you.

You were right. That’s exactly what he was thinking. But fuck it. He wasn’t sure how he could manage knowing you liked him the way he liked you if he just pushed you away again. Screw what everyone else thought. You could both worry about that when you got to it. But right now, Jim desperately needed you.

You fervently kissed him back, both of your breathing increasing. “Jim-” you mumbled between kisses.

“Mhm?”

“You’re not gonna–push me away–again after–are you?” you managed to get out as Hopper attacked your face.

He paused. “Not if you want me. I can worry about what Hawkins thinks later. I don’t give a fuck what they have to say–” it was your turn to cut him off. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into you. His mustache tickled your nose as he kissed you. His hands found their way to your exposed hips, sliding up and brushing the back of your bra.

Jim pushed you back so you wobbled to the couch. Your legs hit the side and you sat on the arm of his couch. Jim was quickly between your knees, his hand behind your head as he pulled you into him. When he pulled back to get a breath, his eyes couldn’t tear away from you. Your face was stained with tears, but that only made your eyes stand out more. Your hair had been ruffled by Jim’s large hands, and your lips were swollen.

“What?” you asked, suddenly shy under his gaze.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You felt your cheeks flush. Jim pushed your hair behind your ear and placed a kiss on your exposed shoulder. His fingers traced along your bra strap and down to your back where he unclipped it. You felt goosebumps rise in his trail. His fingers gently lifted your straps off, making sure not to touch the cut along your shoulder, and threw your bra to the floor. His eyes ravaged you. You were about to speak, feeling shy, but Jim was faster. His lips grazed your nipple, making you gasp. He drew it into his mouth, sucking and nipping you softly. You felt your eyes flutter and your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Jesus,” you breathed.

Jim felt himself grin, loving getting a reaction out of you. His hands rested on your hips as he kissed your chest. He hooked your jeans in his fingers and began to wiggle them. You lifted your hips up so he could yank them down. His hands grabbed your thighs immediately, squeezing them and letting his thumb rub small circles along them. His head came up to kiss your neck and jaw, his stubble leaving tingles in their wake.

You grabbed his biceps, holding on to him as he nuzzled the side of your neck. A small moan left your lips and that was enough to send Jim into overdrive. His hips came slamming into your own, the roughness of his jeans gliding against your clothed clit. His hands were around your jaw, both of them pulling you in for a hard kiss, his tongue sliding along your lips and into your mouth. He grunted when he felt your hips roll into him, your legs wrapping around his thighs and pulling him into you.

Hopper couldn’t handle it anymore, he needed you.

He scooped you up into his arms gaining a squeal from you. He moved you to the couch cushions and laid you down before him. He tore his shirt and pants off in one quick motion, then placed himself on top of you, kissing you into the couch. Your fingers ran through his tawny hair, your legs struggled to wrap back around Jim’s waist. His hand slipped between your bodies and into your underwear. You gasped when you felt him touch you. He began to rub small circles across your core, your body already wet and ready for him.

One of his fingers slid to your entrance and rubbed between your lips, feeling the way you were overflowing. “All this for me?” His voice was far deeper than earlier.

You looked up at him, your eyes big and sweet. “Mhm,” you cooed.

Jim removed his hand and slid it up your side then squeezed one of your breasts. You felt sad at the loss of his touch between your thighs. “I want you inside me, Jim.”

His eyes darted to yours, his pupils blown. You swallowed hard as he stared at you. You felt his hard length press against your thigh and you rolled into him.

“Fuck,” he cursed. You reached down and wiggled your underwear off before grabbing the hem of Jim’s and urging it down. Jim followed your lead and tore his boxers off before nestling himself back between your legs. You could feel his cock pressing against your clit as he put his weight onto you. He kissed your jaw again while his hands grabbed himself and began to rub his tip against you. You moaned, your face heating up and he teased you.

“God, Jim. Please!” You begged pathetically.

Jim used his hands to push your hips down and prevent you from jutting your hips up towards him. You pouted. “I’m right here, baby.” He said softly. “No need to rush. I wanna savor you.”

Your chest thumped loudly. Hopper kissed your cheek and then ground his hips against you, his cock dragging along your core. You both moaned as he continued to do it. One of your legs were buried in the couch cushions and unable to wrap around Jim, so only one of your legs came up to rest on him. Jim’s hand instinctively went to your thigh as you lifted your leg to drape around him. He used that as leverage to rub against your harder. You bit your lip as you held back a yelp.

Without warning, Jim thrusted himself into you. You gasped in shock as he filled you up. Jim grunted above you, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You clenched around him, making him grumble into your hair, sending vibrations throughout your body.

He let you adjust to him as you squirmed beneath his weight. “Jim. Move,” you said in a breathless tone, desperate to feel him pump inside you.

His hands wrapped around you and he began to thrust in and out. Your head arched backward as he hit you deep. Jim growled as he felt your walls spasm around his cock. You mewled in response, your vision dizzy as Jim rutted into your hips.

You felt all your sadness from earlier sink away and you were filled with warmth instead. Both of you forgot all about the monster you encountered. You were pretty sure you both would keep fucking even if that thing had burst through the window. You couldn’t stop now. You wouldn’t let him.

You bucked your hips up each time Jim bottomed out, forcing him to hit you as deep as possible. You cried out in pleasure. “Fuck, baby,” he grunted.

Hopper was already so close, and you desperately thrusting against him wasn’t going to help things. He wasn’t going to last. (So much for savoring it.) His hands found your hair and he fisted it, his voice growing deep as he growled. He began to hit you long and hard as he pumped his length in and out of you. He felt his fist squeeze tightly in your hair when he felt your walls clench around him. And just like that, he was done for. Jim groaned so lowly that you could feel the vibrations tickle your stomach.

Jim let out a long, dragged-out ‘fuck’ as he began to come inside of you. Your own orgasm followed suit, your legs shaking as Jim filled you up. His hot seed seeped out around his cock as he thrusted through his high, obscene noises filling Jim’s quiet place.

You arched your back into Jim’s chest, bucking your hips up against him over and over as he kept spilling himself into you. Jim moaned as you sucked every last drop from his cock, draining him completely.

He began to slow his thrusts, your nails digging into Jim’s back as your high faded to a pleasant sense of ecstasy. Jim collapsed on top of you, his weight pushing you into the couch. He gently pulled himself from between your legs and a pool of his seed rushed out of you.

He kissed your cheek before scooping you up and rolling over so you laid on top of his chest.

His breathing was deep and his hand wrapped around you, holding you close to him.

You rested your head against him, your hand coming up to rub small circles on his chest, catching your own breath. “I love you,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, your cheek still pressed against him. “You do?”

He chuckled and you felt it rumble through your body. “Mhm.” He grinned at you, brushing his fingers against your jaw.

You kissed his chest. Then kissed him again. And again. Leaving a trail of kisses up to his lips. You had to crawl and shift your body so you were in line with his face as you placed a warm kiss on his lips. His arm squeezed around you.

You straddled him as you deepened the kiss, a small groan building in the back of your throat. You gently rolled your hips into him, your wet pussy dragging against him as you did.

Jim grumbled something into the kiss and you felt him grow hard beneath you again.

You giggled. “Round two?”

His hands came down to squeeze your ass and pulled your waist harder against him. You took that as a yes.

You squirmed on top of him, placing delicate kisses along his jaw and to his collarbone as he did to you earlier. Jim felt his cheeks blush at your touch, your soft lips like heaven against his rough skin.

You slowly slid down so your hips were in line with Jim’s. Then you took his cock in your hand, earning a grunt from Jim, and lined him up with you again. You could already feel yourself pulsing with anticipation, wanting him to fill you like before. You slowly sank down on him, his hands resting against your soft waist. You both gasped, looking at one another with parted lips.

He stretched you out slowly, your body needing time to adjust to him again. It was almost painful how well he filled you. You finally sank down on him completely, letting your full weight lay against him. You felt Jim’s hips buck slightly beneath you, his hands eagerly rubbing against your hips and thighs. You lifted off of him gently, letting his cock slide out of you painfully slow.

Jim’s breath got caught in his throat, his cock already dripping in precum. You lazily took him all in again, sitting flesh against him. He growled, his head pressing up against your cervix. You felt his fingers dig into your skin. You began to lightly bounce on top of him, making his fingers press harder and harder into you. Your hands rested against his chest as you rode him, your mouth letting little whimpers escape.

You felt every ridge of his cock glide against you, your clit bumping against Jim as you sank down on him. You couldn’t help but let little cries weep out of your mouth as you took him in.

Your bounces stayed at the same pace and Jim couldn’t take it any longer. He grunted as he gripped your hips and began bucking his hips up into you and pulling you down to meet his thrusts. You moaned, his body slapping against yours. Jim began bucking up consistently, pulling you into him each time. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Jim took control, wanting to hit you as hard as he could. Your fingers curled into Jim’s chest, your body trembling as Jim thrusted against you.

“Jim, I–” your words barely made it out before you were moaning again. You were so close. Your cries came out staggered as Jim jerked into you, making your voice waver. You cursed and mumbled under your breath, your eyes lazily looking down at Hopper. His own met yours, both of your eyelids feeling heavy.

Jim shifted beneath you slightly and began to hit you at just the right spot. It made you cry out in pure pleasure. You have never felt this good before. You felt your walls clench around him, your legs wanting to squeeze together as they pressed against Jim.

You felt your high approaching, your body going limp as Jim kept his pace. You mewled, another orgasm flowing through you. Your walls clamped down on Jim’s cock, squeezing against him and making him growl. He began squirting inside you, giving you what little he had left.

You both were a mess as you groaned and muttered swears under your breath. Your eyes stayed locked with Jim’s, even if they were both laced with exhaustion. You helped him as he slowed and bounced on top of him, dragging out your highs. You both cried out, his seed spilling out around his cock and onto both of your thighs.

You hindered your speed as you felt your body cave with warmth. You finally stopped and leaned over, collapsing on top of Jim. His arms pulled you into him, his chest rising and falling in unsteady breaths.

You mewled as the aftershock hit you, making you shake on top of him. Jim let you ride out your high with his cock still buried deep inside you.

After a few long moments, you paused, your hands wrapped tightly around Hopper. “I love you too,” you breathed.

You felt Hopper chuckle against you, his hands rubbing small patterns along your back as he held you.

You both wanted to stay like this and forget the rest of the world, bodies pressed flesh with one another, and Hopper’s cock buried inside you with his seed filling you up. You felt your eyes flutter shut as Jim’s fingers danced across your back. Sleep began to overtake the both of you as you snuggled up into Jim. You felt him harden inside you again and he groaned in pain.

You muffled noises into his chest, your hands clenching into fists as you felt him inside of you. You huffed as you began to rub up and down, your body flat against Jim’s. His cock slowly slid in and out of you as you lazily rolled your hips up and down. Your clit dragged along Hopper’s stomach making you whine. Both of your eyes remained shut and Hopper’s arms held you in a hug. You whined again, feeling tired as you rocked against Jim. You picked up your speed slightly, your chest never raising from Jim’s.

Jim’s arms, wrapped around you, pulled you up to help you up as you rolled your hips against him. Your both groaned, your pussy painfully aroused as Jim’s cock began squirting his seed into you again. You let out a vocal cry as you began to shake on top of him, coming for the third time that night.

Jim held you close and helped you gently roll on his cock, his chest vibrating as he overflowed your cunt with his seed. It pooled out around your bodies, creating a sticky mess on both of your thighs. You mewled, your walls clenching Jim as you came with him.

After a few more tired thrusts, you stopped and sighed into Jim’s chest, letting him drip out around you. He slowly pulled out of you and his cock sprang out, rubbing up against your ass as he did. You groaned, your legs trembling beneath you as the last of your high rode through your body.

Jim leaned forward and placed a kiss on your head, soft snores sounding from your small frame. He smiled, feeling like he didn’t deserve this kind of contentment. He hugged you tighter, hoping you’d never leave him. And he fell asleep shortly after.

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