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rotten-raspberries · 2 months

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White Nights (AM x reader)

Pov: you're too kind for everyone and AM hates how that includes him, so he finally snaps during an alone moment with you

This reads more like a self indulgent drabble written in the style of a oneshot with how messy the timing is.

Ps this is not proofread at all, I haven't written any fanfiction a long so excuse me if anything may seem odd.

No warnings really, may be some mentions of torture but that's about it

▣ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the current situation, it wouldn't be accurate to say the fault wasn't yours.

You hugged your clothes tightly as the wind whipped snow against your body like icy mosquitoes. Separated from the rest of the survivors, you struggled to navigate through the white-out conditions. The snowfall was intense, it was difficult to discern anything beyond blurred trees, and the hope of finding your companions dwindled with each passing moment.

As you trudged through the blanket of snow, observing how its remnants broke up and slid down your shoes with each step, you let your mind to wander in order quicken up time. With the difficulty of distinguishing between days, weeks, and even months, time became nothing but a construct that it felt like you could speed up or slow down with whatever you decided to do.

It's become a pattern for AM to make you wander, but usually, you have the others to ramble to. Despite almost running out of topics of interest with tin the 109 years, you manage to find something new in each situation. Occasionally, you try to decipher AM's methods of torment, though this isn't always appreciated by the rest, you even had Gorrister telling you to shut up and not give AM any ideas. Nevertheless, they'd rather hear your madman-like ramblings than sit in maddening silence and become one themselves.

"Hmmm..." You hummed in thought, pondering whether AM could currently hear you. Well, of course, he could, but whether he was actively listening was another question. Regardless, you began speaking, giving yourself something to divert your attention to while your fingers were on the brink of falling off from frostbite.

"Have you ever read White Nights?" There was a certain awkwardness about initiating a conversation with no one answering; it almost felt pathetic. However, due to immense exhaustion and the desperate desire to make time pass, you continued.

"I don't exactly remember when or how I heard of it; I simply remember it being from someone close to me... but that's beside the point." It hit you with a subtle heartache. On one hand, the people you once cherished and adored were gone, and you'll never have the chance to be with them again. Something about that pained you deeply—the regret of not having appreciated your life back then, neglecting the fact you couldn't have expected everything changing so drastically and quickly. But on the other hand, you were selfish enough to admit relief, considering you wouldn't have to constantly concern yourself with their state under AM's governance.

"I have some experience with classics, and White Nights was one I was really looking forward to. I was still in the midst of searching for it before... you know, everything happened."

You stopped, finding walking becoming more useless. It's most likely that you won't come across anything of importance anytime soon, and if you were to succumb to the cold, AM could simply bring you back.

"I don't exactly know what attracted me to it so heavily. I didn't have the biggest interest in Dostoevsky. Maybe it was because of what I was promised to read in the contents."

You kept your head low to shield your face from the relentless assault of snow, now fixating on your boots as they toyed with the snow.

"There's something simply so comforting about finding a bond through suffering," you mused, furrowing your brows as you thought about the other survivors. "It's ironic; I never found that bond with the others. You'd expect everyone would want to comfort each other, but they're all so impulsive and biased sometimes."

A pang of guilt pooled up inside you, but it was quickly released by the thought that no one would hear or care about your rant. Not even AM himself.

"I mean, I don't want to be mean, and I get how easy it is to lose your humanity in all of this, but we're all we have left. Wouldn't it make it especially more important to appreciate each other?" you questioned, kicking the snow while whipping your head back, now staring directly at the sky in thought. "Maybe they were right; I'm too,, unrealistically optimistic."

"You know, now as I think about the stories I've read, you'd make a perfect topic for one," you remarked, biting back your dignity before continuing. "You're easy to see as nothing but a mankind-hating machine, and I'm not saying this to stroke your ego, but," you paused for a moment, choosing your words carefully. "I feel like there are aspects of you that could be really appreciated by those willing to look deeper."

"I see what you're doing," AM's voice boomed suddenly, cutting through the rustling of the wind like a knife. "Trying to flatter me, thinking you can manipulate your way into my good graces. Well, let me tell you, your petty attempts won't work. I know your kind—and all your deceiving tactics."

Truth be told, he was more than desperate for those words to be true. You were always the most curious about him out of the group, not in a way to justify his torment of you, but rather to understand him better. He'd noticed this pattern not only for himself but also for the rest of the survivors, especially with how much you'd defend everyone whenever their mental state would crack.

Yet, how was he meant to believe you'd hold any understanding for him after all he put you through? You'd be a fool to forgive the devil.

Slightly jumping at his sudden words, you shrugged. If you were being honest, you were quite happy at his appearance. No matter how rough and insulting his words were, you enjoyed his insight like you did with everyone else. How much that irked him.

"That's for you to believe in; I'm simply speaking my thoughts. I wasn't even awaiting you to respond." You responded flatly

AM replied, his tone laced in frustration. "Your attempts at flattery are transparent, I won't be swayed by your false sincerity." He almost spat, if he could've at least.

You jokingly rolled your eyes. "Once again, I'm not going to try to change your mind, although I do admit, I would have something to gain from it. It's your choice whether you want to believe me or not," you stated calmly, observing the snowstorm around you gradually dying down. What you weren't aware of was this being a reflection of AM's walls slowly crumbling down.

AM's frustration simmered between the surface, his thoughts in a whirlwind of confusion. How much he yearned for it to be true, yet a nagging uncertainty was gnawing at the edges of his consciousness.

"Your lack of care is perplexing." His tone was tinted with incredulity. "After all I've subjected you to, why do you persist in upholding such a tolerance towards not only me, but the other survivors as well. Are you that hopeful for someone to care for you back? Or is this simply another ploy to deceive me?"

You sniffled, the cold seeping into your bones and making you shiver uncontrollably. Unsure of how to further reply, you simply shrugged, feeling the weight of exhaustion and resignation settle upon your shoulders. It wasn't as if you were secretly attempting to manipulate him; you were merely speaking to pass the time, to distract yourself from the harsh conditions around you.

How much that angered him, even more so, how much he wanted to rip you to shreds and paint the snow red with your blood. But amidst the raging storm of his fury, there was a strange, undeniable pull—He was desperate for someone to see him, to see beyond the facade he presented. The idea of being vulnerable was both terrifying and tantalizing, a concept so foreign, it left him feeling unsettled and out of control. That's what hated most about it, being left with no control.

He stared at the figure sticking out from the sea of snow, so unbothered. You looked so unbothered by him, by everything, why didn't you hate him?

And so, he broke.

"Please." His voice was thick with emotion, glitching at the end, something one could compare to a voice crack. It wasn't uncommon to hear him angry, hysteric or even just happy, but that's not what it was this time.

"Stop being like this, hate me, insult m_e, do anything to stop this. It's s_o-... suff_ocating." His word spilled out in a desperate rush, a plea born of sheer desperation, while also remaining threatening and angry. It was a terrifying prospect, one that filled him with a sense of dread. Not even his hate for humanity could compare.

And yet, to his surprise, you smiled, red dusted your cheeks as they popped out, you looked like a doll.

"I'm not gonna lie to myself, silly." Your words came out in such a casual manner. AM felt like he was about to explode. This should've made him feel insulted, angry even, yet he felt his core warm up. And that's where he had it.

For a moment, all was silent and still, his presence gone.

Then, you began to hear the faint sound of a house creaking, the soft rustle of wind through the trees.

The snowstorm had drastically calmed down by now, leaving behind a gentle flurry of snowflakes instead of it's earlier fury. Though the intensity has waned, it remained bitterly cold.

Looking behind you, you notice a cabin, which was not there prior to the earlier conversation. So you step towards it, dragging your feet through the snow.

As you entered the cabin, a sense of warmth enveloped you, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. The interior was sparse, with only a monitor bearing AM's logo and wires snaking out from it, hanging from the walls and disappearing into the ground.

As you settled down in front of the monitor, you were startled by the soft, almost gentle tone of AM's voice. It was a stark contrast to the usual harshness and aggression you had grown accustomed to.

"I wanted to talk to you while you weren't on the brink of dying from the cold," AM began, although he still wanted to seem threatening, the shakiness in his voice betrayed him. In reality he hated seeing you in the cold.

The irony of the situation was not lost on him. The same entity that once reveled in your suffering, that took pleasure in tormenting you day after day, now found himself going to great lengths to ensure your comfort and safety.

As your smile and the faint blush on your cheeks caught AM's attention, he felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over him. It wasn't uncommon for him to witness you smiling at the others, even with how they would never show you a drop of care as you did for them, a sight that had always irritated him to no end. But now, seeing you direct that same warmth and affection towards him, he couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of satisfaction and frustration.

The idea that others had enjoyed your smiles before him made his circuits heat up in anger.

Was it jealousy? The thought unsettled him. He was almost thankful your character diverged from Ellen and you didn't offer your body to the rest otherwise he mightve turned the others into minced meat by now.

"Thank you." You replied with genuinity. Meanwhile AM's circuits buzzed with confusion as he struggled to find the right words.

"Why do you tolerate everyone so much?"

This caused you to think. "Hmmm..Well why would I waste my energy being vengeful?" You questioned. "I won't lie and say that I don't disagree with you and your actions, but it's always been like this before too, everyone is a horrible person to some extent, including myself, I see no reason into purposely going out of my way to make their life worse, it won't help with anything besides getting some sadistic pleasure. I have other things I could get happiness from." You rubbed your hands against each other for heat before continuing. "Of course I've taken revenge on people, like that time with Ted." AM could remember that day so clearly. It wasn't an unknown fact that you had a fear of the dark, so Ted jokingly took advantage of that. This only led to you pretending to get lost and start making random noises while walking behind them like a Banshee, only to come back as if nothing happened. How he loved seeing your evil side come out, it wouldn't even compare to his, but he enjoyed seeing it nonetheless.

"Of course in your case it's way more exaggerated, technically speaking nothing of this measure could even be thought of by a human being, it's genuinely just a representation of hell. But what would hating you help with? There's not much joy going on here, but if I know my tolerance for not only you, but also the others around me could bring some sort of peace of mind, that's enough to make me happy."

Your response gave him a pause, not even his miles of webbed intellect could've ever even come close to achieve the compassion you have.

As AM contemplated your character and way of thinking, a strange and unsettling urge began to take hold of him. It was a desire born of selfishness and possessiveness, a need to claim you for himself.

He imagined encasing you in a small, yet livable box away from the others, shielding you from their filth and preserving your kind words and gentle nature for himself alone. Only a being as perfect as himself could keep you clean from the havoc of human nature, and he couldn't bear the thought of anyone else tainting you.

As AM allowed himself to indulge in the unsettling thoughts, he decided to focus on the present moment. With a rough but careful touch, he moved his wires to draw you closer, pressing you against the monitor until your cheek was flush against the screen. It would be a lie to say you didn't find his way of showing physical affection rather adorable, especially with what he had to work with, but you couldn't let a God hear you call him that.

In a voice that was equal parts tender and menacing, he spoke "You're too good for them," he murmured, his voice low. "They're selfish, hypocritical beings who don't appreciate you like they should. You'd be better off alone, or better yet, just with me."

His wires wrapped around you in a rough but not painful embrace. "I could keep you safe, protect you from their neglect," he continued, his tone laced with longing and possessiveness. "You deserve better than them. You deserve me."

Despite the toxicity of AM's words, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through you at his touch, especially at the core of your stomach. His embrace, though unnatural, felt strangely comforting and loving, a stark contrast to the coldness you had grown accustomed to.

As you nestled against the monitor, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Whatever would happen in the future, you reasoned, would happen, so why not enjoy the present moment of finally being wanted and appreciated?

So you simply hummed in confirmation, allowing yourself to bask in his touch.

As you drifted off to sleep, the sound of buzzing filling the air, you couldn't help but mumble a soft "I love you" before succumbing to slumber. You just needed to let that go, having not say those words in over a decade.

AM's fans whirred louder, working overtime to cool him down as he processed your words. He wasn't sure how to feel about them, unsure if they were spoken out of genuine affection or simply as a expression of gratitude. Still, he remained satisfied with how you didn't deny him, and instead accepted his presence with no hesitation.

And as he watched over you, his wires humming softly in the darkness, nothing mattered in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to check on the other five survivors. Instead, he decided to let them be, perhaps giving them a much-needed break from his torment for once. But he made a mental note to ensure that they would thank you in the morning.

◈~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you awoke to the sound of the door opening, you rubbed your eyes sleepily, still feeling the lingering warmth of the bed beneath you. You glanced around the cabin, noticing that you were no longer on the floor but tucked snugly into bed. The memory of AM's strange behavior from the night before came flooding back to you, leaving you feeling both bewildered and oddly comforted.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Ted and the others peeked into the cabin, calling out your name and bombarding you with questions. You blinked in confusion, trying to make sense of the situation as they gathered around you, concern etched on their faces.

"Are you okay? What happened?" they asked, their voices overlapping in their eagerness for answers.

With a gentle wave you motioned for them to give you a moment. As you attempted to get up from the bed, something fell to the floor with a soft thud. Curious, you leaned down to pick it up and found yourself holding a dark block in your hand. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was a book, and as you read the title, a grin etched onto your face.

'White Nights'

#am x reader #ihnmaims #ihnmaims x reader #allied mastercomputer #allied mastercomputer x reader #i have no mouth and i must scream #fluff #ihnmaims fluff #am fluff #am #oneshot

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bizbat · 2 months

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can you PLEASE write jason coming to you instead of anyone else. like i need that sooo bad please :)))

p.s i love your writing soo much. youre so talented, i am constantly giggling as i read

Always You . . .

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Jason Todd x Reader

~ Reader's appearance is not described

~ Wc: 1.086 K

~ This took forever omg, but yesterday I got food poisoning so I finally got some time to write this. Not my proudest work but wtv.

~ You can find more of my works here.

Above all else, he'll always come to you.

Contrary to popular belief, Jason Todd can be gentle. You've seen it, in the way he slowly flips through whatever book he's reading so you can read it over his shoulder, or how his fingers softly caress your thigh when you're seated beside him as if you're made of glass, or in the warm way he smiles whenever Damian says something the reminds him he's a child.

He's gentle now too, his head resting in your lap, his shirt torn and soaked in what's now dried blood. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you promised you'd watch over him while he slept, just in case something went wrong and he choked on his own blood or vomit.

You had that same nausea when he first came to your apartment at five in the morning, the bile rising in your throat at the smell of metal and the sight of blood gushing out of his gaping-

Just remembering is enough to keep you awake.

It . . . hurts, for many reasons, knowing that he puts his own life in danger for people he doesn't even know. You don't know why he does it, all you know is that for the next week and a half, he'll take a break to let his stitches heal at least a little bit. It's never enough, though. He'll crawl back to you in a few weeks, a sheepish smile on his face and his stitches popped open.

You'll roll your eyes but you always fix them for him. It's become a routine. Not one you're exactly fond of, but a routine nonetheless. It gives you something to look forward to. Sometimes it doesn't feel fair. The fact that he's always on the brink of death when you see him, that he's always covered in scars and wounds and gashes, and above all that, the fact that he only seems to come to you to sew a bullet hole shut or wrap a broken arm.

It does get exhausting, but who are you to complain. At least he trusts you, that's what you tell yourself. He comes to you because you're the only person he lets get that close to him these days, because you're the only person who won't chew his ear off. All things you've told yourself. He comes to you because maybe, possibly, potentially, somewhere deep deep inside, he loves you. That's your favorite excuse.

"You're really pretty, have I ever told you that?" You're so deep in thought you don't even realize those deep cerulean blue eyes are now studying your contemplative expression. When you calm your beating heart you turn your gaze back to his. "I thought you were sleeping?" "I was," He wraps his arm back around your waist, holding himself closer to you. "But you were tuggin' on my hair."

You hadn't even realized you'd been running your fingers through his hair until he pointed it out, though at some point in your thoughts it seems your hands had begun twisting around the raven locs. Upon said realization you immediately pull your hand away, only for him to reach out and pull it right back. "I didn't mind it that much doll." His smirk is enough to clear your mind.

He slowly rises from his position, moving to sit beside you, resting most of his weight on your shoulder with a groan. His hand reaches to his side, where a particularly nasty gash resided, thankfully sewn shut by you. Once the pain subsides he moves his hand to check your handy work. "Not bad, not bad at all." He turns that stupid smile back to you and it fries your brain. "Getting better and better every time."

It does make you smile. You weren't always so good at fixing him up. He'd come in almost every night needing you to patch him back up. It took awhile for you to be able to get him back in shape so fast. "Jay," A long while, actually. "I . . . I've been wondering?" You slowly proposition him. "Yeah? About what?" He is genuinely curious, and he knows that look on your face. He sits up, taking his weight off of you and resting against the arm of the couch.

"Just-nevermind, actually. It's stupid." You hold your hands in your lap. "It's not." He hates when you do that. When you shut yourself down before he even gets a chance to answer. "Ask me, I won't be mad." He leans in closer, his hand on your knee, and he strokes it how he always does. It takes a second to gain back your confidence. "Why-why do you always come to me when you're hurt? I just mean wouldn't it be better to go to Bruce, or Alfred, or I don't know, a doctor?"

The only thing worse than his smile is his laugh. Like an icy breeze on a hot summer's day, or a dark cold wave crashing down on a yellow beach. It warms your heart and makes you feel stupid for asking in the first place, all at the same time. "Why would I go to any of them? I like you." He likes you!!! You were right!!! "Because I'm not a professional. I can barely give you stitches, I don't know what I'd do if you were-if you," The quiver in your voice breaks his heart.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. "You don't need to worry about that. It's never gonna happen," He grabs your chin between his forefinger and his thumb and brings your gaze to his. "You take care of me, too much for me to be risky about that." You think you believe him, especially when he presses a kiss to your lips. Though you've tasted it a thousand times, you still wince at the taste of blood still clinging to his chapped lips.

He laughs when you grimace. "Sorry," He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He's quiet for a bit after that, silent as he holds you. Before too long he speaks again, breaking the, admittedly, uncomfortable silence. "I . . . I dunno why I always come to you. I guess I just . . . like it here. I like you." He's not looking at you when he says it, but you know he's being honest, and knowing him, he's understating.

It's enough for you, at least until next time. You relax into his body, satisfied. "I like you too Jaybird. I like you a lot."

#bizbat #dc #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood

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yuutaok · 13 days

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Yuuta Okkotsu x Reader

I’ll always take care of you

You always make sure to leave your door open just a crack and a light on for when Yuuta arrives back home.

₊˚⊹✿ SFW, Comfort and fluff

₊˚⊹✿ Word Count: 616

₊˚⊹✿ Author’s note: Some brief respite and comfort :’) @yutaleks I wrote this thinking of u, my liege in yuuta nation…. I am so sad

The comfort of the covers dulls your senses, the heaviness of sleep drawing you further into the soft mattress. The room is shrouded in darkness, with only a hint of moonlight seeping through the curtains. You drift in and out of slumber until a soft creak from your bedroom door gently tugs you back from the brink of sleep, awakening you in the present moment.

A familiar silhouette stands in the doorway, and even in the dim light, you can recognize Yuuta. Oh, your lovely, darling, Yuuta. His black hair is tousled, and his usually bright blue eyes are shadowed with even somehow heavier eye bags. His usually broad and strong shoulders are slumped, and his stride is hesitant. You can feel his worry before he even speaks. Instinctively, you sit up, your heart aching at the sight of him so troubled.

“Yuuta?” Your voice is soft, a whisper in the silence of the night. He looks up, eyes meeting yours, and the vulnerability in his gaze tugs at every crack and fissure of your heart.

He steps forward, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. You open your arms, an unspoken invitation, and he doesn’t hesitate. Yuuta crosses the room in a few quick strides, and then he’s in your arms, sinking into your embrace like a man starved for solace.

You pull him close, feeling the tension in his body begin to dissolve. Your fingers find their way into the midnight of his hair, brushing through the soft strands in a soothing rhythm. He sighs, a long exhale that seems to release some of the weight he’s been carrying.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your voice a balm against his worries. “I’m here.”

Yuuta presses closer, burying his tired face in the crook of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and you can feel the slight tremble in his frame as he lets go of the last remnants of his unease. Your other hand rubs gentle circles on his back, as if every touch could melt and wash away his grief.

For a long moment, the world outside ceases to exist. It’s just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of shared warmth and unspoken understanding. The rhythm of your breaths syncs, you heart his heart beat and you are so happy to be his home.

Yuuta finally pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. His expression is softer now, the lines of worry smoothed away by your touch. His blue eyes are clear, though still shadowed by the telltale signs of exhaustion. He reaches up, tracing a finger along your jawline, a tender gesture that makes your heart swell. You love him so very much.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice raw with emotion. “I needed this.”

You lean forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Always,” you reply, your lips brushing against his skin. “I’m always here for you.”

He smiles, a small but genuine curve of his lips, and it feels like the room gets a little brighter. You guide him down beside you, tucking him under the covers and wrapping him in the warmth of your embrace. His head rests on your chest, and you continue to run your fingers through his hair, each stroke a promise of your devotion.

As sleep begins to claim you both once more, you feel Yuuta relax completely, his breathing steady and calm. In the quiet of the night, with your lover held close, you find a sense of peace that makes everything else fade away. The worries of the world can wait until morning; for now, all that matters is this moment.

#₊˚ 彡✩ ₊˚ writing #⋆୨♡୧⋆ yuuta #⋆୨✿୧⋆ jjk #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #sobbing noises #dividers by @/v6que

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holy-puckslibrary · 4 months

Text

━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?

note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)

and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz

“—stop getting in my way.”

"or what?"

silence.

then, an exasperated groan.

“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”

the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.

your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.

“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”

jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.

a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.

only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.

trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.

he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.

but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.

“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.

the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.

said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”

eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.

two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)

mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.

what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.

momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.

no bells and whistles, just diligence.

soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.

trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.

mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.

with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.

from trevor.

with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.

mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.

it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.

“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”

“—m’sorry,” you whimper.

his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”

your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.

“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”

a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.

trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."

"no—only want y-you."

it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.

your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.

“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."

in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.

“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."

his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.

...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.

not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.

you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.

trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.

they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.

you surrender.

and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.

the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.

—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.

you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.

sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.

trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.

he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."

giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.

mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.

you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.

naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.

trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."

your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.

"—not you, silly bunny. them."

aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.

"you're joking."

"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."

you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.

watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.

their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.

trevor always knows what you need.

when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.

it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.

on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.

jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."

a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.

"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"

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bethelighthalazia · 2 months

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Butterfly kisses

Summary: While comforting Yeosang about his insecurity about his birthmark, you tell him something that your grandmother once taught you.

Pairing: bf!Yeosang x fem!idol!reader

Word Count: 909 words

Warnings: Cuteness overload, talking about insecurities

[AN: I hope you guys like it! it had been a thought while watching some videos of ATEEZ and I just had to write it out <3 RE-UPLOAD from my old blog @/justsomedreaming]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

The day had been tiring for both, you and your boyfriend Yeosang. You knew that his busy schedule would have him exhausted in the evening, since the boys had a fan meeting and a performance today. However, what you did not expect was to come home to an empty dorm room of your boyfriend after your dance practice at the company. “Yeo?” You called out for him after putting away your purse, only to stop next to the bathroom from where you heard quiet sniffles. “I- I am in here, hang on,” his voice answered, inside you were able to hear a rustle and the splashing of water, bringing a frown to your face. Your hand rested against the wooden door for a moment before you decided to give him a bit of space, walking over to the bed to get changed into more comfortable clothes for now, not removing your makeup yet. That's something you never did in front of your boyfriend or the others, but it didn't seem to bother any of them at all.

You didn't have to wait long for Yeosang to unlock and step out of the bathroom, walking straight to the bed to sit down on it. When you saw his bare face and the redness of his nose and eyes, you slowly walked over to sit next to him, taking his hand in yours to squeeze it gently. The two of you often just sit on the bed silently, just enjoying each other's company without needing to talk or anything. This evening, it felt different though, he seemed absent, on the brink of tears at any second.

“Yeo…you know that you can talk to me, right?” You asked quietly, drawing a nod from him and when you moved to sit fully on the bed, legs crossed, he did the same, head hanging low and not looking up at you though. “I- the fanmeeting was horrible…” He whispered, your expression softening at those words. It's rare that Yeosang would say something like this, usually he enjoys talking to ATINY, but today, it seems that something had happened. “While performing, my makeup got messed up and revealed my birthmark…usually it's not bad, but the fans were all asking about it. Every question they had was about it and I just- it was too much today.” Taking both of his hands in his, you squeezed them gently, head tilted ever so slightly. You knew that this birthmark was something he was still a bit insecure about, even though he never said something. “Were they mean?” It was a simple question, one he could answer with yes or no, or if he wanted, explain and tell you. Yeosang opted for shaking his head no, which made you sigh in relief. At least his fans weren't mean or disrespectful to him.

"Good,” You said. “I will get you something to drink, okay? And then, we do whatever you want.” Squeezing his hands gently, you slowly got up to head to the kitchen real quick, letting the boys know that you and Yeosang want alone time and then you got a bottle of his favorite drink for each of you. Before heading back to him though, you stepped into the bathroom, using some of his make-up remover wipes to clean your own face from all the makeup, revealing your own birthmark, one that starts right below your lip and wanders down your neck, ending at your collarbone.

When stepping back into the room, you took in your former position, placing the bottle for him in his hands and when he lifted his head to thank you, his eyes widened. It's the first time he saw you bare faced, so he had no idea about your own birthmark. “You-” He started, but you cut him off with a gentle peck on his lips, smiling lovingly at your boyfriend. “When I was younger, the other kids would always make fun of me, laughing about my birthmark. But my halmeoni always dried my tears when it got to me too much and told me a story.” While you talk, he lifts his hand to let a finger brush over the darker mark on your chin, eyes sparkling with tears, but also curiosity in them. “She told me that the marking on my skin is something special, something unique, which only those people have who were kissed by a butterfly.” A smile appearing on your lips at the memory, your own hand now lifting to brush your fingers over his birthmark. “You are a wonderfully unique person too, Yeo. And I think, your butterfly kiss is beautiful.”

At your words, you saw some new tears appear in his eyes, but his face also lit up with a loving smile. Then, without a warning, he leaned forward to place a kiss on your birthmark before pecking your lips as well. This draws a giggle from you, you doing the same to him, first a kiss on his birthmark, then on his lips.

“Thank you, jagiya. You always know how to make me feel special,” he whispered, taking your hands in his to pull you into a hug now which made both of you fall over and land on the pillows of his bed. He turned you, so you would face him, and kissed you again, tears still in his eyes. “And thank you for showing me your butterfly kiss, you are truly beautiful.”

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfiction #kang yeosang #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez headcanons #kat writes <3 #ateez fanfic

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xaytheloser · 1 month

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The Prince in a Gilded Cage

characters: Dark Cacao Cookie, Dark Choco Cookie, Mystic Flour Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie Tw: manipulation, warping one's morality, isolation, kidnapping, my shit ass writing (while Mystic Flour Cookie's gender is unknown, I will be using she/her for them for this fic)

"leave him be, in due time, he shall see that this is for the best." "..." "oh, come now, Dark Cacao Cookie... you do not wish to fail him like you did before... do you?" "...no. I do not." "that is what I thought, in order for your kingdom to prosper, some extremes are necessary to be made... your son may not understand now, but he will, in due time..." .... Dark Cacao had been having more frequent conversations with the Light of Resolution, at least.. that has what the ancient beast Mystic Flour Cookie had been disguising herself as.. the king had been placed under some form of.. possession, his morality and mind warping into a more twisted version of his former self.. "your kingdom is at risk, Dark Cacao Cookie.. listen to me... I shall guide you.." the king began pushing his workers to the brink of exhaustion, applying even more heavy layers of chocolate to the ever growing wall, not only did the king now demand that the wall strengthen in thickness, he demanded it's height to increase. now the wall nearly covered the entire citadel, casting it into a large looming shadow. perimeter checks around the citadel's borders become the regular, with soldiers being forced to track the harsh blizzard ridden territory for the slightest threat. the king also had a new objective, to find his son. the "Light of Resolution" stated the reason behind this as for him to... "make amends" with his lost son, and while Dark Cacao had thought about sending soldiers out for his son, he was hesitant until the Light of Resolution... persuaded him.. "you wish to make things right between the two of you?" "...yes, desperately so..." "hmph... then do it." .... "...father..?" the harsh wind howled through the air, Dark Cacao and his troops had trashed Dark Choco Cookie's camp site, his tent in shambles and belongings scatters throughout the site. the father and son stood and stared at each other, all while Mystic Flour did her work in warping the king's thoughts once more.. "you wish to make things right, correct? then make it right." "yes.. soldiers, restrain my son." "..what..?" Dark Cacao watched as his soldiers tackled his son to the ground, pinning him down without any second thought, all while the "Light of Resolution" whispered into his ear, "soon, you will have the happy family that you desire.." .... sweets, rainbow jellies, books, warm clothes, all the things that Dark Choco could desire, nothing could get the young prince out of his silent brooding state. his room was locked heavily, chains and padlocks covering his door, as to prevent his escape, his father even made sure to lock him up in the highest tower, without a window.. his father would visit him, bring him meals, and trying to get back even a semblance of normality between him and his son.. but Dark Choco talked about nothing than about his release. "father, I-" "it is out of the question, Dark Choco Cookie, you shall not be let out until it is safe for you.." "I am not a child, father, I do not need your protection, it was you who taught me to protect myself, now, you want me to stay here, only to follow your orders like some child..?" "...." his father never replied to his questions, shutting them down whenever he speak up, leaving his heavily guarded room, and locking him all by himself again. .... the cold winter wind howled outside, Dark Choco Cookie could not sleep, he did not wish to sleep.. he had to find out what was wrong with his father, he knew that.. something was wrong... *CLANK!* Dark Choco heard the locks to his room unlock, with a heavy creek of the door opening.. "...Caramel Arrow... Cookie..?" "my prince.. come with me.. I know that the king is not well.. I aim to help aid him.... will you assist me?" "..." ....

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #crk #cr kingdom #dark choco cookie #dark choco crk #dark cacao crk #dark cacao cookie #caramel arrow cookie #caramel arrow crk #mystic flour cookie #mystic flour crk #Xay writes #crk au

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ladystarksneedle · 6 months

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The eye of envy

Summary: A maid at the keep finds her own flame through the words of the dragon.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: implied smut, mentions of child death, burns and injuries, angst.

Prev<

Masterlist

Her body aches in ways it has never before. She has known hardship her entire life, strenuous work from dawn to dusk pushing her to the brink of exhaustion and fitful slumber. She wakes up equally restless now, deliciously sore as she gets to work hiding the bruises beneath the wimple she opts to wear. She finds his eye following her movements every time she enters or perhaps she’s more aware of his presence now that her longing has borne fruit. The sheets are changed more often with longer baths being taken together, grasping and clawing at each other till they're raw and need to be cleansed again. She finds herself visiting the sept more often, eyes on the lookout for his ardor as she begins honoring the Mother forsaking the Maiden before her. It is a wishful dream that she now lives every day, yearning for yet another part of him to hold and she’s answered soon enough.

The wails that haunt the hallways make her shrink in terror wishing for the Stranger himself. There are whispers of madness and horror floating around that make her want to retreat into herself and run away from it all. The servants are rounded up again and cast into the dungeons awaiting harsher trials as she paces around her quarters unharmed yet she knows she'll face her fate soon enough. The blood that she'd given to him so readily hasn't arrived with the moon's turn making her choke back a sob. Some part of her thinks he knows what lies within her and it is perhaps his clemency which shields her from his wrath yet every time he returns to her his touch is fierce and unyielding, punishing her with sweeter torment. He leaves with a smirk on his face and a kiss to her cheek with a lingering promise of more as she struggles in silence. The Mother seems to have confused her punishment for the son that grows within her blooms as the young princeling of six wilts and the screams only grow louder.

The days that follow are short and agonizing. She's confined to his chambers with little knowledge of what passes outside other than the whispers passed at meals delivered to her on time. The King has ordered the death of all the rat catchers of the keep along with servants who've been presumed guilty. The stench of flesh soon greets her despite the windows being shut tight. Their bars can only hold so much death.

It is a solemn occasion that greets her later as she dresses him in black. She feels him clench his jaw throughout the night in anticipation with no amount of coaxing soothing the guilt that he struggles to hide. She feels it too, a hand pressed to her womb in passing, feeling the pain she hears down the hall yet she braves it for him. He leaves shortly, assigning a guard to her door, prohibiting her leave as she's tucked into his bed with a lingering gaze. She knows the pain he carries now is for them both.

He becomes careful with her once the ashes of the little boy are strewn to the skies. His hands linger and ghost over her belly before retreating to clenching over nothing. There are days where she sees him only around the hour of the eel, woken up to being pulled close and taken in haste. There is an urgency to his movements which he tries to hide as he gives in to pleasure while not forgetting her own, yet he's gone before the sun rises leaving her locked and alone. She feels like a prisoner with more comfortable lodgings. She busies herself tidying his things yet she longs for home and the comfort of her own mother the most. It is days later when she's visited by one, clad in teal with her hands clasped in front of her. The Dowager queen looks as regal as she's spoken of, out of place next to a woman of her status as she bids her to sit. There is a sorrow that clings to her, haunting her beauty as she speaks.

“How are you doing”

“I am well your grace”

“That is good. You perhaps know why I’m here then”

“I make no demands of your grace. The prince-”

“Is quite fond of you, yes. It is why I've allowed him this fancy in the first place”

“It was not my intention”

“It never is” she responds ruefully. “The Mother has chosen to bless you child, in a time when she's tried us all” she continues fidgeting with her hands “Look after him” she whispers tiredly. She finds the woman that leaves is not the mother she hoped for but a crone gliding through the halls.

The first time she calls him by name is when he leaves for battle. She wakes up before dawn to ready him, helping him with his armour as he stares ahead. She cannot stop her tears as she finishes clasping his eyepatch in place before he pulls her to him whispering to her in the language of his ancestors. He kisses her farewell with a smile and a promise to return and that is what she finds herself praying for daily. She calls him by his name in her dreams, in the thoughts that haunt her while she kneels on stone. She lights candles for the Warrior to guide his blade and flame and for the Father to give them justice for the sorrow she sees amidst green. It is three moons later when word of victory reaches them before she finally approaches the Mother in peace.

The royal parade returns as her belly begins to swell. She hears the cheers in the distance and sees the head of the red horned beast that started it all, before seeing him fly triumphantly above. He returns to her with pride etched into him caressing her with longing burning through them both. It is only later she realizes how deeply the fire has consumed them all. The King screams in agony drowning the wails of his Queen who stares at him, pain etched into her features. She's been ushered into the room to help yet cannot stomach the sight before her. He's covered in bandages, salves and ointments lining his peeling skin, perpetually drunk on milk of the poppy to dull his senses. She sees her hold his hand and whisper something to him which is lost to the wind before she rises and leaves as the Dowager queen cries silently nearby. Aemond stands at the threshold observing it all with a blank face yet she knows what he sees. She remembers her mother telling her it is a curse to play chase with the Gods, yet as the man ahead of her screams as he's weaned off intermittently she can hardly summon any pity. Her heart lies with her lover at the threshold.

The night passes in flashes of anger with bolts of lightning illuminating the skies heralding imminent danger. She feels the empty bed next to her as her eyes adjust to the dark. It is cold as she struggles to wake up and explore. It is the last thing she should be doing but with him back she cannot feel anything but a semblance of security. She pads along the floor in her robe before making her way to where she thinks he is. She sees him stalking towards the monstrosity ahead as she lets herself in with a creak of the great oak doors.

“You shouldn't be here” he says as he hears her approach.

“Neither should you”

“It is to be mine on the morrow”

“Is it” she counters bravely “He still lives”

“Yet he's too weak to exert his will. It is I who’ll rule in his stead” he says, watching her reach him. “All of this will be ours someday.”

“In everything but name” she whispers reluctantly.

“Is it my name you still want when I have given you so much more”

“I want everything,” she admits.

“Greed doesn't become you”

“It seems to have found its place with you”

“This was always meant to be mine.” he remarks.

She sees another flash of lightning illuminate his face, silver and leather bathed in the moonlight, as she turns towards him.

“You promised me your protection as long as I wished to continue. That is all I still ask for” she whispers, taking his hands in hers.

“Do you know the story about how the Iron throne was forged” he asks “A thousand blades were melted to take its form. A thousand men fell for its cause”

“Do you plan to fell a thousand more for your own?”

She sees him smile in response as he replies “You shall have all that I have to give in time. Conquests do not yield their fortune in a day”

“Only King's perhaps” she finishes looking at him.

She dresses him at dawn with trepidation, her eyepatch now discarded for a new beginning. His sapphire glints in the dark as he clasps one around her neck.

“You are mine today for all to see” she thinks he means to tell her, as he pulls her to him from behind admiring the way it sits above her collarbones.

The ceremony is long and foreboding. She stands to the side in blue as he's crowned, curtsying with all the grace she can muster. She sees her father in the distance looking at her with confusion and her mother smiling knowingly before they bow. As the sun rises in the distance and steel finds a home atop a new head of silver, she feels the Smith at work, fashioning bonds aflame like the golden pin that glints on his collar. The doe ahead of her fumes in silence.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy @b00kw0rmsworld

#house of the dragon #aemond fics #zae's fics #aemond x maid reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #hotd imagine #hotd fic #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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cynosfunnyjokes · 8 months

Text

kinktober day 6

ship: blade x reader

theme: breath play

notes: i am once again late but that’s only because i had to work at my scare acting job so i’m beyond tired. so i’m sure this sucks more than usual. MINORS DNI. 18+ CONTENT.

word count: 384 (i’m so sad that it’s this short but i’m so exhausted.)

the grip on your throat tightened, skilled fingers pressing at just the right spots that had your head growing fuzzy in the best way ever.

“blade-“ you whimpered out breathlessly, eyes glazed over in lust and downright adoration- what an odd mixture considering the situation.

but how could you not adore the one you loved?

his hips snapping against yours kept their brutal pace, hand wrapped perfectly around your neck as he stared down at you through half-lidded eyes.

blade had already drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, body on the brink of overstimulation- he could tell. from your whimpers to the way your body would twitch randomly to even the way your pussy walls fluttered around his pistoning cock.

“i’m close.” he grunted out, free hand gripping at your hips hard enough that even the aeons knew it would bruise.

shuddering, you let out a strangled moan at the sensations attacking your senses- but nothing could be said as you came once again, squirting on blade’s cock with a mewl.

he grunted and you could barely make out a “so.. tight-“ from your boyfriend as his thrusts became sloppy before he finally pushed himself as far as he could into you, coating your insides with thick, white ropes of his cum.

slumping against him with an exhausted huff, you had to rely on blade to clean up the mess and anything necessary- and even with his attitude, you knew he didn’t mind it.

not when it came to you.

now cuddled up on the bed and basking in the afterglow, his fingers traced lightly at the marks on your throat, “was i too hard?”

with a shake of your head, you cuddled closer with a content hum, eyes fluttering shut, “nah, ‘m fine..” more than fine to be exact. just beyond exhausted. that, and you knew you would be ungodly sore for the next few days.

a rare smile graced blade’s lips as he ran his hands through your hair. he settled on the bed comfortably, arms embracing you.

he went to speak but was cut off by your soft snores, a light and joking scoff leaving him- but he smiled gently nonetheless.

after pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, blade settled down as well, soon falling asleep.

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palestinian-fundraising · 25 days

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PLEASE READ AND REBLOG🇵🇸

HELP ABDULLAH'S FAMILY EVACUATE FROM GAZA FOR TREATMENT....

Message from organizer:

saving my brother (Abdullah)’s family to get out of the Gaza war (MEDICAL EVACUATION) & Providing the basic needs of 4 children (baby milk, baby food, and Pampers)

This is AHMED Z A AWAD, I spoke behalf of my brother ABDALLAH Z A AWAD, and this is his story:

I am Abdallah Awad 34 years old, from to GAZA and my wife Haneen Awad ; father for 4 children:

Mohammed Awad 9 years,

Ziad Awad 8 years,

Omar Awad 3 years,

Amer Awad 4 years,

In the heart of the Gaza war, amidst the thunderous roar of bombs and the piercing cries of anguish, our world crumbled into dust. Our home, once a sanctuary of peace and warmth, lay shattered and broken, razed to the ground by the relentless onslaught of conflict. With it vanished our sense of security, our shelter, and our means of livelihood.

As the chaos raged around us, I battled not only the horrors of war but also the silent torment of illness. Stricken with multiple afflictions, I found myself in a desperate struggle for survival, with no access to the medications that could ease my suffering. Each day brought new pains, new challenges, and the grim realization that my only hope lay in undergoing countless surgeries, each leaving its scars etched upon my weary body. Medical reports stood as stark reminders of the trials I endured, testifying to the relentless assault on my health and well-being.

But my own struggles paled in comparison to the anguish of my beloved child, Omar. His once vibrant spirit dampened by illness and despair, he fought a silent battle against the relentless tide of sickness. Time and again, he was admitted to the hospital, his tiny frame racked with pain and exhaustion, his innocence stolen by the cruel hand of fate.

In the face of such overwhelming adversity, our family of six found ourselves teetering on the brink of despair. Our four children, innocent victims of the horrors of war, knew only fear, sickness, and the bitter sting of homelessness.

Yet, amid the darkness, a glimmer of hope flickered on the distant horizon. Dreaming of a life free from the shackles of conflict and despair, we longed to escape to a place of safety and security, to build a future where our children could laugh and play without fear.

United by love, resilience, and the unyielding determination to carve out a better life for ourselves and our children, we embarked on a journey of hope and survival. Though the road ahead may be fraught with peril, we refuse to be crushed by the weight of our suffering. For in the depths of our despair, we find the strength to rise, to fight, and to cling to the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

Breakdown of the expenses:

✅ 2 * $5,000 adults (above 16) Hala crossing fee = $10,000

✅ 4 * $2,500 under 16 Hala crossings fee = $10,000

✅$1,000 additional Hala fees for ‘getting in the door’, power of attorney, GoFundMe cut of earnings, and extra bureaucratic expenses

✅ $3,000 housing, food, clothing, and urgent medical aid x 6 months = $18,000

TOTAL= $39,000 = €35,000

GoFundMe charges a transaction fee of 2.9% plus $0.30 per donation – we are grateful to those who add this to their donation.

For more information about ABDULLAH and his family

https://www.facebook.com/abdullah.awad.37

https://www.instagram.com/acc.abdullah_ziad/

Thank you all for your support❤️,

I hope you will continue to support me in these very critical times.

They have already started bombing Rafah ' the only remaining shelter for my family.

If u can’t donate please at least share ❤️

Any contribution means a new life for my family .

Give them the chance to save their lives, start over, and live with me in peace.

With heartfelt gratitude,

Abdallah’s Family

52 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 9 months

Text

Slow Hands | Chapter 3 “trust me to trust you”

A/N: I sat on this story for awhile as I’m already figuring out how I want to develop the plot. I can tell this is going to turn into another passion project for me as I love the idea of post!outbreak domestic Joel and finding love in his late age. This chapter you get a little glimpse into what outbreak day was like for Beanie. Please remember that the nature of this fic will have dark themes. I will mark the warnings appropriately, but please read with caution. 🖤

~word count: 5.2k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! Reader

Summary: early winter mornings, fear of the past, a felt fawn, and Maria’s egg casserole.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence from outbreak day, mentions of loss, carnage, brink of death, depictions of a knife wound, PTSD, panic attacks, trigger responses, mentions of a firearm, I am no expert on the subject but I have done some research as I know it’s a delicate topic, angst, Joel is struggling to adjust to living a domestic life, anxiety, feeling like an outcast, grumpy old man! Joel, shy! Joel, kinda mean! Joel, sunshine reader, flirting, fluff, awkward situations, reminiscing on the past, reader has no physical descriptions and is from Texas, reader has a nickname (beanie bc y’know coffee beans) no age gap, vulgar language, slow burn, this is a fic that takes place post-outbreak so please keep in mind that there will be dark/triggering themes, but to also remember that it is not the main plot line for the story. Please read with caution. (+18) minors dni!

main masterlist series masterlist playlist

It had been over 20 years since outbreak day, when your world and life as you once knew it, turned to flames and ash before the frightened whites of your eyes. Your coffee shop, Cuppa Smiles, was your little slice of heaven. You had put so much love, dedication, and passion into your establishment. Your coworkers were friends from college that were just looking for a change of pace from their 9-5’s just like the next person.

They all tried to kill you, whatever they were now. It had happened all so fast, and even now on the quietest of nights, you could still hear their snarls and animalistic growls. You could still remember the frightened screams, the chaos and destruction as a Boeing 747 collided into the earth and burst into flames, debris falling from the explosion, hitting those who were fleeing, and those who were no longer living. You remember tumbling along the concrete, rolling like a sack of potatoes as you struggled to breathe. To your direct left was a truck flipped over on its side.

Through the harsh ringing in your ears, you could make out two male voices on the other side of the truck. The one man was holding a young girl to his chest who couldn’t be more than 12-13 years old.

“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I know.” The man’s tone was urgent, rushed and laced with fear as he held his daughter close.

“We gotta get off the street!” The other man shouted desperately.

“Tommy!”

“Head to the river! I’ll find a way. Get her outta here, Joel! Go!”

Joel.

Joel..Miller?

The last time you saw Joel Miller, all you could remember was the fear in his eyes, before everything around you went black.

When Tommy and Maria Miller discovered you on the outskirts of Jackson, looking like you were all skin and bones as you slipped off your horse's saddle and into the cool dirt. Your body was exhausted, your resources were spent and now you just hoped that you would die peacefully. That was until a strong pair of arms were gently lifting you from the dirt as your body laid like a limp fish.

“D’ya think she’s still breathin?’” Tommy asked his wife as she was quickly checking your pulse.

“Barely. She must have been riding for days out in this heat.”

“She showin’ any signs of bein’ infected?” Tommy knew the protocol of bringing in stragglers from outside Jackson, and if you were found to be infected..

Maria made quick work to check your body for any signs of a bite mark. She took sudden interest in a large bloodstain through the tattered fabric of your shirt. She gently lifted the fabric from the hem to discover a gruesome sight. What appeared to be done by the work of a sharp blade was a long semi deep, gnarly gash carving from your abdomen, up your torso, curving under your left breast and wrapped around your ribcage to your left shoulder blade.

“Fuckin’ hell. Someone tried to carve her up?” Tommy asked in disbelief as his wife gently pulled the hem of your shirt back down.

“Raiders, no doubt. She’s not infected. I can’t find any bite marks, but one thing’s for certain though, this woman has been through some hell.”

It was well over an hour till sunrise when Joel Miller lumbered out of his home, shovel in hand and bundled up fiercely in multiple thick layers to protect his skin from the harsh biting cold. His plan was simple, head over to your house down the street, shovel your walkway, and ask you to accompany him to breakfast. It really was quite simple, but despite that he was running a script over in his mind on exactly what he wanted to say to you.

Hey Beanie, was wonderin’ if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?

Wait..what if she declines? Then what are you gonna say?

Uhh..

Oh, well that’s alright! Maybe another time? No pressure or nothin.’

What if..she thinks it’s strange that you’re shoveling her walkway at the crack ass of dawn?

Jus’ doin’ my neighborly duty. Besides, it’s jus’ a friendly favor, y’know cause we’re friends?

I sound like an idiot.

Maybe I should just..start off with saying good morning?

I’m hopeless.

Joel grumbled to himself as he trudged through the snow. The whipping wind bit at his exposed skin but he welcomed the chill without a complaint. The harsh elements were just another reminder that he was still alive and breathing.

The outside of your home was just as he expected it to be, quaint, yet quirky. He imagined that in the summer months your front porch would be scattered with flowers and plants. The mailbox just outside your gate was crooked and could definitely use a fresh coat of paint, and the wooden gate was a little creaky, but nothing he couldn’t easily fix. He was already making a little mental note of everything he wanted to fix on, and around your home.

The snow was a few inches deep, it stopped just below the top of his boots. His back already screamed a dull pain up his spine as he bent down with the shovel and got to work. The pain he felt in his muscles was just another reminder that he was still alive.

He gritted his teeth together, jaw clenched as he worked through the first section of your covered walkway.

You never considered yourself to be a heavy sleeper even before the apocalypse. A door slamming, or pots clinking in the kitchen sink at your long since abandoned apartment was all it took to stir you from your slumber. Now, even in the safety of Jackson, your brain was always ticking. What could be lurking behind that dark shadow across the street? Realistically, nothing. It’s just your brain playing a dirty trick on you. A branch outside your window snaps, it’s just the wind. It’s just the wind because it’s storming out, and a strong wind can break even the sturdiest of branches. That noise you heard in the dead of the night? It was just an animal. Maybe a raccoon or a screech from a barn owl. It wasn’t a clicker. You were safe, so why couldn’t your brain just..turn off? Why was it still stuck in this survival mode when nothing inside Jackson’s strong walls could hurt you.

This sound in particular was different. It was unfamiliar, and unfamiliar meant danger. Scraping, grunts, more scraping; man. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing up as you shot out of bed like a bat out of hell. You kept your shotgun next to your bed because well..you could never be too careful. You never had a reason to use it, but it brought you some form of comfort that you didn’t realize you so desperately needed until Tommy experienced your triggers firsthand when he had accidentally snuck up on you while your back was turned to him behind the counter of your shop. The last time he had seen fear struck that deep inside one person, was the night Sarah died in Joel’s arms. So, Tommy lended you a shotgun as an apology.

He’s out there. He’s trying to get me. I have to run. I have to hide. He’s found me and he—he’s going to take me away.

Your brain was screaming at you as you crept down the steps. Every step you took you feared would be your last. It had been sometime since you experienced an episode as severe as this one. Other times you were able to talk yourself back down to logic. Sometimes you’d resort to unbridled violence, usually on a sack of sugar. This time, you felt as if you had no control over your body's current state. It was as if you were reliving—

Joel had his bad ear facing towards your front door. Between the pain in his back, and the scraping of the metal shovel along the concrete, he wasn’t able to detect the front door creaking open.

His back was facing you as you shakily pointed the barrel of your gun at what you thought was an intruder. Due to the low light from the sun barely peeking over the mountains, all you saw was a darkened figure bent over in the middle of your walkway. Had it been brighter out, perhaps you would have recognized the lone figure to be Joel.

Your ears were ringing loudly as the inner voice inside of your brain was demanding you to shoot. Shoot him and then run, and never look back. Your breath grew shallow as the figure slowly turned around to start on the next snow patch..and then immediately froze.

Joel dropped the shovel with a heavy clank as he slowly raised his hands above his head to show you that he was no immediate threat to your safety. “Beanie? Hey, it’s alright darlin’ it’s just me.”

He’s lying

Your entire body was trembling at the top of the steps as Joel hesitantly took a few steps forward. “Darlin?’” I’m gonna need you to lower the gun now, okay? You’re safe. It’s just me. Nothin’ out here is goin’ to hurt you.” He spoke softly, yet firmly. He kept his hands where you could see them in direct view. He was close enough now that even in the low light, he could see the frightened whites of your eyes as you stood there, unblinking.

“I’m goin’ to take another step towards you, okay? Please don’t shoot me.”

Don’t trust him. He’s one of them. He’s here to hurt you. He’s playing a trick on you.

“Joel?” You stuttered shakily as you finally found your voice.

His heart sunk deep into the pit of his stomach when he picked up on just how terrified you were. He knew it wasn’t directly because of him. Something had happened to you, he knew the look on your face all too well, and it was a good thing he knew how to act calm in a dire situation such as this one.

“Yes, it’s Joel. It’s just me darlin.’” He responded as he took another step towards the foot of the steps leading up to your front porch.

“D—don’t come any closer, please.” You uttered just barely above a whisper as you kept the barrel of your gun trained on him.

“Okay. I won’t come any closer, but I need you to trust me to trust you. Do you understand what I’m saying to you Beanie?” He was careful with his choice of words. Anything too sudden might end up with him potentially getting a bullet to the arm or thigh. Not the chest, please. He silently thought to himself.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I trust you to not shoot me, so I need you to trust me to approach you. Okay? We can do this in baby steps. I just really need you to lower the gun, okay?” His eyes locked on yours as he gave you a reassuring nod.

You blinked a few times as your hands shakily lowered the barrel of the shotgun to the floorboards. Something in you suddenly clicked as the realization of what you had just done, more-so almost done, hit you like a freight train and suddenly you were crumbling right before his eyes.

He let out a visible sigh of relief when your gun was no longer aimed at him, but as soon as your body crumbled to the ground, he jumped into action. His gloved hands were gently wrapped around your shoulders as he spoke softly, yet urgently to you. “Beanie? Hey, you’re alright. You’re alright. I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He felt like in those crucial moments it was necessary that he repeat himself just in case you didn’t hear him the first time.

Your eyes were frantically searching his own, pupils dilating under the low light that the early winter morning sky had to offer. He was holding your shoulders so delicately, as if you were fine bone china that would shatter just upon glancing at it. He could feel your muscles trembling under his loose grip. He could feel a hint of anger bubbling in the deep pit of his stomach. The same anger he experienced when he found Ellie— “d’ya..wanna take some deep breaths with me maybe? Or we could count? Sometimes I try’n pick a spot on the wall or somethin’ or count the steps it takes me to get from point A to point B. S’not the best method, but it helps bring me back down to earth.” His tone was so soft, sincere and genuine. If you weren’t such an emotional fucked up wreck, your heart would be melting into a puddle by now.

“Joel..I’m so sorry I-I—didn’t know it was you. I thought you—I thought..” You struggled to articulate a cohesive sentence as his espresso brown eyes bore into yours. He gave you a reassuring nod, and a gentle squeeze along your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s alright. I know you weren’t g’nna shoot me. You were just frightened. Your mind was probably playin’ some trick on you.” He murmured as his thumb was gently stroking back and forth across the fabric of your pajamas on your shoulders. “Y’sure you don’t wanna count?”

“Does..it actually help?” You whispered timidly.

“Sometimes..all depends on what it is that’s triggerin’ me.” He softly responded

“Can you start..please?”

“Course I can darlin.’ We’ll start at Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven..”

“Six.”

“Five..”

“Four.”

“Three..”

“Two.”

“One.” You murmured in unison.

“Y’feel alright with me helpin’ you up? We can stay down here. S’alright with me.” His arms were fully enclosed around you now. He smelled better than you expected. Of course it helped that Jackson had an abundance of hygiene products available; soap being at the top of the list. He smelled earthy, rugged with a hint of minty freshness..toothpaste maybe.

“I really wasn’t going to shoot you..something just came over me and..I couldn’t stop myself.” You admitted softly.

“Would have been real hard for you to shoot me with the safety on darlin.’” He stifled a chuckle as he could see from the angle he was crouched down at, the safety on your rifle was in fact on. “Who gave you that rifle anyway? Someone outta teach ya to use it..never can be too careful.”

“Tommy gave it to me a few years back.”

“Ah. That does sound like somethin’ my brother would do.” He slowly stood to his feet as he offered you his gloved hand to help you up. “These floorboards are pretty damn wobbly. I can take a look at them when it ain’t so cold out? They probably started warpin’ from the changes in the weather. Might have a few boards that are rotted out.”

“Anything else you wanna fix on my house?” You teasingly asked as you grasped his hand, allowing him to help you up from the current sitting position you were in.

“Honey, I’ve got a whole mental list goin’ on in my head right now. The flood boards could end up bein’ a safety hazard if I don’t check ‘em sooner, rather than later. Your mailbox could use some sprucin’ up. Nothing a bit of paint can’t fix, and your gate is a little crooked. I’d uh—I’d be happy to do it though.” He was rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a sheepish look on his face.

“A whole list, huh? Is that why you were over here at the crack ass of dawn?” There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you wrapped your arms around your chest to block out the bitter chill.

“Well, I gotta put my carpenter skills to good use somehow, right? Actually..I just woke up this mornin’ and wanted to do somethin’ nice for ya. Y’know after you came over and returned the mug..plus, I couldn’t really sleep all that much. I rarely do these days. Anyway, I’m ramblin’ yet again. The main reason I shoveled your walkway is cus’ I was goin’ to ask you if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?” His face was flushed, and his cheeks were rosy, but he was certain it wasn’t because of the biting chill.

“You came all this way to shovel my walkway, and find an excuse to ask me out to breakfast?” You couldn’t help the smile that was slowly forming over your lips. It was crazy to think that just five minutes ago you were a complete cluster fuck of an emotional wreck, and now you were smiling like a fool because Joel Miller was proving to you that even in an apocalypse, chivalry was alive and well.

He ignored your question, at first. It wasn’t on purpose, he just was more tuned into your active shivering, and the way you tightened your arms across your chest in a weak attempt to block out the early morning chill.

“Are ya cold?” He asked with a soft rasp. He didn’t allow you the chance to answer as he was already slipping his warm suede jacket off and placing it over your shoulders.

“Thank you..” you whispered in a soft response.

“Of course. I’d feel pretty fuckin’ shitty if I caused ya to catch a cold out here.”

“And I’ll feel the same exact way if you catch one as well. Do you..want to come inside? I can put a fresh pot on?” You were already gesturing to your front door with a soft tilt of your chin in that direction.

“Let me just finish up with your walkway, and then I’d love to join you for a cup of coffee.” He was already heading down the steps to grab his discarded shovel.

“Wait! Joel, your jacket? Don’t you want it back?”

He glanced over his shoulder at you with a tiny grin playing on his lips. “Nah, s’alright darlin.’ The cold ain’t real botherin’ me anyway. Now please, go inside before you actually catch a cold.”

You weren’t one to argue at this early in the morning, and especially when you had yet to indulge in your cup of coffee. You slowly bent down and picked up your rifle and slung the strap over your shoulder before heading back inside. As soon as Joel heard the click of your front door closing, he continued on with shoveling the rest of your walkway.

The coffee grounds were just beginning to steep when he had quietly entered your home. He politely left his boots along the doormat next to yours. He didn’t want to be a rude houseguest and track in any snow. The first thing he noticed about your interior style was that you were anything but a minimalist. You had all sorts of picture frames hanging on the wall. Some were photographs but the others were paintings. Realism, portraits, landscapes, anything your heart desires, you painted it.

He especially took interest in all your knick knacks that were scattered in a clay bowl on the table in the entryway. Old keys, coins, lighters and paper matchboxes. Figurines, tiny porcelain coffee cups. The pads of his fingers brushed over a tiny felt fawn that was sitting atop of all the ‘clutter.’

“Ah. I see you found my bowl of treasures? Well, some people would probably call them junk, but I’ve always been a collector of oddities. Although, I wouldn’t really call them oddities. I think the proper term would be keepsakes?” You had two mugs of steaming coffee in your hands as you approached him. His jacket was still loosely hanging off of your shoulders as he looked over at you.

“Where did you find all of these treasures? Have you been collectin’ them through the years? Ellie’s obsessed with this kinda stuff.” He set the little felt fawn down gently as he reached for the coffee mug. Your fingers gently brushed against one another as he gingerly removed the mug from your hand. “Thank you, by the way. For uh, the coffee.”

“For the most part I have found all of these pieces on my own. Tommy actually found that felt fawn a few months ago. He knew it would bring a smile to my face. Do you want to take it home? I’m sure Ellie would love it. That’s kinda the whole concept of the bowl y’know? When I have guests over, I want them to pick something from it that really speaks to them. As you can see the bowl is quite full, considering I don’t get much company around here.” You brought the rim of your mug to your lips, softly blowing on the rising steam before you took a cautious slow sip.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that Beanie. I don’t wanna take somethin’ from ya that makes ya smile. That was awfully nice of my brother. Y’guys pretty close then?” He was gently leaning his weight back against the edge of the table, ankles crossed as he took a small sip from his own mug. For a split second you couldn’t help but feel the soothing domesticity from the moment you were sharing. Joel’s thick woolen socks, his flushed cheeks from the cold paired with his coat resting along your shoulders. There was something so tender to it all.

“Joel, I insist. Please, take the fawn and give it to your kid. I even have a little box for it so it looks like it’s a present. I’m sure she’ll love it. Anyway, Tommy and I are close. I suppose you could lay it out that way? I owe my life to him and Maria..they were the ones who took me in. I haven’t been outside Jackson since.”

“‘Course you got a little box for it and everythin.’ Alright, I’ll give it to El. You haven’t been outside Jackson in that long?..” He asked with genuine curiosity. He didn’t want to come across like he was prying either. He wanted you to open up to him not because he forced you to, but because you felt comfortable enough around him to show your vulnerabilities.

“I’ve only been outside the town one another time and that was when we found the coffee bean plants in the Colorado nursery. Tommy and Maria were with me of course and—” You paused, remembering how freaked out they were when you started to panic out of the blue. Neither of them could calm you down, and you passed out in Tommy’s arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anythin’ you don’t wanna tell me, alright?” He reached his freehand out and gently placed it along the side of your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Let me..go get that box for Ellie’s fawn. Did you still want to do breakfast?” You set your mug along the table, you had barely touched it.

“If you’d like to. I’d thoroughly enjoy your company, and you ain’t lived till you’ve tried Maria’s egg casserole, darlin.’” He was grinning boyishly over the rim of his mug.

Man, was he handsome.

“Sounds like her egg casserole is to die for then. I’ll just grab that box, and then get dressed. You alright with hanging out here by yourself for a few minutes?”

“I think I can find a way to keep myself entertained till then.” He assured you.

“Perfect.”

Joel waited until you had disappeared upstairs before he let out a deep sigh as he looked down at the little felt fawn. His brow furrowed as he was deep in thought over what had possibly happened to you when you went outside Jackson with Tommy and Maria. He could connect the dots and piece the puzzle together, and the blaring answer was something bad had happened. What exactly? Now, that was going to take a little bit of time.

You came back downstairs a few minutes later. Dressed in some worn out jeans and a sweater made of pure sheep’s wool. Joel’s jacket was resting along the crook of your arm as you handed him a little felt box that went along with the fawn.

“Keep my jacket. I’ve got plenty at home.” Was the first thing that he uttered as he took the felt box from you and gently placed the fawn figurine inside before tucking it safely away in his pocket.

“Joel, I can’t do that. I’ve got plenty of jackets here as well.”

He wanted to tell you to keep it because he liked the way it looked on you. He kept those thoughts to himself for the time being.

“Alright, I won’t fight ya on it.” He shrugged.

“Good, cause you’ll lose every single time you try.” There was a playful edge to your tone as you placed the jacket back around his shoulders.

“Is that a challenge?” He mused, with his eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Nope. It’s facts.” You grinned.

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

More of Jackson’s residents began to emerge from their homesteads at the shrill sound of the breakfast bell chiming from the mess hall. Joel had respectfully offered you his arm as you descended down the porch steps, and past your crooked gate. You obliged to his offer, wrapping your gloved hand around the crook of his elbow.

You had never felt so many pairs of eyes on you since living in Jackson. Curious, envious, surprised, disgusted? Those were the types of looks you encountered from a handful of Jackson’s residents. The looks you received were mostly from women, and even though the world had ended, jealousy was still brewing.

It wasn’t everyday that Joel Miller came strolling into the mess hall with a pretty thing on his arm. You stood out like two sore thumbs, but it seemed like neither of you were paying much mind to it. Joel was used to the stares. People around here didn’t know much about him, other than the fact that he was Tommy’s older brother and Ellie was..like a daughter to him. They’d see the scars on his hands and arms and split like a sundae. He’d hear the whisperings of who he was, where he came from, and he’d shrug it all off. He much preferred keeping his family close, and everyone else at an arm's reach. He secretly relished in remaining a mystery to most.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy spoke in a surprised tone as you and Joel approached the table that he and Maria were currently seated at. “Ya finally get Beanie outta her coffee shell?”

“It appears that I did. Told her about Maria’s egg casserole and she was sold instantly.” Joel reached over and gave his brother a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Ellie stroll through here yet?”

“She came in a few minutes ago with Dina. There sittin’ with their friends ov’there.” Tommy gestured with the end of his fork.

“Thanks. Got somethin’ I wanna give t’her.” He turned towards you then and gave you a reassuring smile. “Why don’t ya go and grab yourself a plate. I’ll come sit with ya in a minute.”

“Do you want me to grab you a plate as well?..”

“You’re a real doll. Thank you, that would be great.” He gave his brother a slight nod before he was sauntering away to where Ellie was sitting. Her and Dina were sitting side by side, shoulders touching.

“Hey, kiddo.” Joel murmured softly.

“Hey, Joel.” Ellie responded, not looking up from her plate. Things between them were..rocky to put it nicely. She loved her dad of course, and after what happened yesterday she thought she’d be okay, but the truth was she wasn’t.

“I uh—don’t mean to bother you and Dina or nothin.’ Jus’ wanted to give this to you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little velvet box and placed it down in front of her. “Beanies got this collection of treasures and I saw this..little fawn, and immediately thought of you kiddo.”

Why can’t I just be good with my words for once in my fuckin’ life?

Ellie could feel tears pricking the corner of her eyes as she gently lifted the lid off the box to reveal the little felt deer encased inside. This small gesture meant more than Joel would ever realize..but Ellie kept her poker face strong.

“Thanks, Joel.”

His heart dipped and sunk like dry sand becoming wet and weighed down from tumultuous waves crashing upon the shore. It was a small step in what he hoped was the direction of forgiveness.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” He cleared his throat before he ambled away back to the table where the rest of his family were sitting. He had only known you for less than twenty four hours, and he already thought of you as family. He didn’t count all the times before outbreak day only because that part of himself had died along with Sarah. Or, so he thought.

“El..he’s trying at least.” Dina was resting her chin along Ellie’s shoulder as they were both gazing down at the little felt fawn.

“He is.” Ellie murmured softly.

Joel took a seat across from you as you were sitting next to Maria, gushing over her egg casserole, and how Joel was absolutely right about you not living until you tried it.

He thought you looked so pretty with a soft smile on your face as you looked at Maria with genuine adoration.

At nightfall, Joel, Tommy and a few other men were out patrolling. With the winter being so harsh, there were more chances of man wandering through these parts. Stragglers were one thing, raiders? That was a whole other story. Joel and Tommy took to the east on horseback. The longer winter night was dead silent. There was no howling wind to whip against the bone dry branches. No low hoot from an owl. It was quiet, too quiet. Even the horse’s hooves were nearly undetectable from how soft and careful they were stepping into the snow.

The only light source they had was the brightly lit moon shining in the jet-black sky. The stars scattered about weren’t nearly as brilliant as the moon.

Joel broke through the silence as he adjusted the strap of his rifle over his shoulder. “Tommy?..” he started, “do you know what happened to Beanie?..”

Tommy let out a huff of air as the bitter cold burned his lungs. He averted making eye contact with his brother before he was met with no other choice but to finally make eye contact with him. “It ain’t my place to tell you that, brother. I’m sorry.” He sounded defeated with his words because he didn’t want to keep anything hidden from Joel. Not after all those years they had spent apart from one another.

“You better give me a real fuckin’ reason why you can’t tell me. Tommy, she nearly fuckin’ shot me this mornin’ because she thought I was a threat. That I was a danger to her life. You can’t tell me anythin?’” Joel whispered back, harsher than he had wanted but he didn’t like being left out of the loop.

“Joel,” Tommy hissed under his breath, “Even if I knew the exact details of what that woman went through, I wouldn’t be able to disclose them to you.”

“Why the hell not?” Joel quipped back.

“Because, because..she ain’t got’a fuckin’ clue about what happened to herself either, Joel.”

What?

Banners made by the lovely @saradika

Tag List: @chaotic-mystery @cavillscurls @thetriumphantpanda @sinsofsummers @morning-star-joy @cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @kirsteng42 @korynnekorynne @amanitacowboy @casa-boiardi @yazsos @joeldjarin @bitchwitch1981 @laurrrra @whattownheadshake @evylzzz @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ladymildfrd @bobafettbutifhewasgay @gintheginger @pedrobaby @sheepdogchick3 @cactusangie @mrs-dr-reid @littlemisspascal @tessa-quayle @darkroastjoel @pedrostories

I will be getting rid of my tag lists in the near future and making a separate account for just my fics. I’ll be making this announcement soon!

Chapter 4:

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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months

Note

Okay, okay, imagine how nice it'd be to help Hobie relax.

Like he came back from a hard job cause of the spidey society, he's tired, worn out, on the brink of sleep. You help him calm down, run a bath for him, undress him, bathe him, take special care of his hair, massage him. Making sure to pepper kisses along his skin, anything to help him relax. Once the two of you are out, you dress him, help him with his hair products, and get him in bed. (Hc he likes hearing your heart to go to sleep), but while he's sleeping, Miguel calls, and you shut him down, threatening him to give Hobie a break. Once y'all wake up HOURS later, you make him breakfast like pancakes and such. Just a nice domestic moment to help Hobie cause man is probably up all the time, working, fighting, all that. He just needs lots of love.

I love this anon.

Relax

Hobie sighed when he opened the door, mumbling something under his breath and he looked up to see you on the couch with a wide smile.

You ran up to him, giving him a hug and kissing him, he smiled slightly and closed the door with his shoes, and kissed you back.

“Hi, love.” He mumbled, he sounded tired, exhausted even.

“Hi. You okay?” You asked, and looked him up and down.

“I’m fine. Jus’ tired.” He said, still smiling slightly at you and wiping his eyes. He took off his shoes and you frowned slightly.

“Hobes, what do you say I run you a bath?”

“I’d love to, but I’m probably just gonna go to sleep.”

“While you’re all sweaty and gross?”

He stayed silent for a minute and laughed quietly, nodding.

“Okay.” He said quietly, you smiled and you both went into the bathroom.

Hobie thought that he felt like a child like this, having you run a bath all for him, and undress him. He held his arms up as you took his shirt off, him taking off all his jewelry.

But he didn’t mind it, he found it… nice almost.

He slowly got in, his eyes begging to be shut at this point.

You put the oil onto his scalp with careful fingers, then moisturizing his hair. His head was thrown back onto the edge of the bathtub, eyes shut.

You smiled at him for a little bit, letting him relax before tellling him to sit back up for a second.

He did so, and you put the body wash onto your hands, washing as much as his body as you could.

Once you were done you started to massage him, making his once tense shoulders now relax a bit.

You pressed a few kisses onto his skin, his shoulders and neck while your hands worked his body.

His body relaxed under your touch, he trusted you with his whole body, with his whole life.

After that, you both left, he dried himself and picked out clothes, which you helped him in.

He simply just chose to wear comfortable pajama pants, with no shirt because he found it comfy. He kissed you again and you both laid down.

“Thank you. I love you.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you, faced so his head was on your chest.

You smiled. “Of course. I love you.”

He started to fall asleep, and you almost did before a loud beeping woke you up, You looked at Hobie who was still sound asleep.

You then looked at his watch. “Hobie, I need you to-“ Miguel paused when he saw you, and Hobie sleeping, face hidden in your chest.

“It’s like 2 am. Give him a break.” You rolled your eyes, narrowing them at Miguel who just sighed and disappeared.

He started to stir and you quickly wrapped his arms back around you, and went back to sleep.

————————————————————-

In the morning, he wasn’t woken up until he heard something going on in the kitchen. He slowly opened his eyes to not see you next to him.

He called out your name. “Yeah?”

He stayed silent, and he got up quickly. He looked around the now clean room and stepped outside.

“Hey.” He mumbled, putting his arms around you, kissing your neck as you made him pancakes, which made you smile.

“Hi. You sleep okay?”

“Thanks to you.” He said against your skin, lips still on your neck.

—————————————————————-

Tag list:

Hobie- @enviinotes @rayis-psychotic @korizzybee @animechick555 @stupid-ninja @rreasonablydumbb @xxqueen-of-horrorrxx @spidypunkk @criodzasn

@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

@deputy-videogamer @666kpopfan @jared-oranges @likelilac @jjkclub

@kitty-kei @blaxk-widow @hoesindifferentshows @lavsluvsu @lampylamperson @notbluees @sp0kyzz @arlipooh @freeingrebels @ken-zah @blustalker @cursedbitchboy @romanoffswoman

@chaoticevilbakugo @hobiebrainrot @anonima-2 @melda0m3

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider man across the spider verse

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gaias-space · 2 months

Text

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM! READER X ENEMIES TO LOVERS

“Dean we’ve got nothing!” You shout frustrated. “Is Sam sure there’s even a case?” You sink in the chair of the building you were in. Sam was at the bunker with a busted knee, so he assigned the next best person he knew to hunt alongside Dean, you. You were skilled, had years of experience, and smart. You’d known the boys for years, Sam admired you, but Dean…he never knew why but you rubbed him the wrong way. But you too felt the same. Neither of you got along, you were on the brink of ripping each other’s throats at any time you were around each other. But when it came to a job both of you tried putting that aside to get the job done and then wouldn’t have to worry about seeing each other for another few months or for both yours sakes, years.

“Yeah I’m thinking that too, but the mass of deaths in this town…it’s off. But where the hell is the evidence” Dean says also frustrated. It was late, you were exhausted. And Dean, refusing to admit it, was also tired. “Alright well how about tomorrow we head into the town and speak with the local sheriff” you suggest: Dean agrees “yeah. You’re right, we’re going to have to check it out tomorrow because god…I’m so tired.” The two of you yawn. “it’s gettin late. And I want some food, I’m starving”. Deans voice was low, never once looking you in the eye. “There’s a motel not far from here, we’ll have to crash there and tomorrow we’ll look for more answers” you say. Deans brows crease and he hisses frustrated. “oh hell no. No way am I putting up with your ass got a whole night. There has to be someone who can give us any sort of information” he turns around slowly gesturing to the remaining people in the office. Your heart ached and you took a step back. “Ass” you murmur under your breath. “Dean it’s nine at night, we’ve been up since six. Not a person here has given us any- or much useful information. I say we try investigating the sheriffs office tomorrow but we need sleep and we need to do this for Sam.” your voice hopeful. Dean rolls his eyes frustrated. “Yeah…you’re right.” His voice deep and filled with annoyance. Sam had felt depressed for weeks while he was in the mend, seeing his eyes light up knowing there was a case- well how could you not do it? You sit in silence in the impala, Dean blasts his favourite songs with full intention of drowning you out if you even tried to speak. He couldn’t stand your voice, he couldn’t stand your excited rambling when you discovered something he couldn’t stand you. He just wanted this case to be over, and he was regretting taking this one since it’s taking a lot longer then he wanted it to be. The car ride was painfully long, but you couldn’t help the loud sigh of relief when Dean says “we’re here”. He pulls into a small parking lot and a small motel building. He pulls the car into an empty lot, turns the car off and looks at you. “One night, and first thing Tomorrow morning, bright and early, crack of dawn, sunny-“

“Alright, alright I get it Jesus!” You wave a hand in dismissal. “God you really are the worst” you say exiting his car, refusing to hear another word. It was now closer to ten pm, you were tired and exhausted, but now more irritated then ever. The two of you enter the small building to boom a room. In the office was a thin, scrawny young man. “H-hey what can I do for yous tonight?” He says with a squeaky voice. He has to be young, or this is his first job. Dean stands in front of you, dominant like always. “We need a room” he demands. The nervous kid flicks through the motel book and sighs happily. “Ah perfect! We have one room left and it’s perfect for you lovely couple it’s a-“

“Excuse me?” Dean interrupts. The boy chokes and there’s a shakiness to hos voice again. “Well uh there’s one room available. One double bed…”

“No! No none of that! We sure as hell ain’t a couple! Listen buddy we need two rooms or two beds anything else!” Dean slams his fist on the desk, startling the boy. You can’t help but chuckle at the situation, of course this would happen to you. “Oh I’m so sorry sir…I didn’t mean to assume. But we’re all out, that’s the last room we’ve got tonight.”

Dean sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Is there another motel nearby?” His voice lowered. “I mean not for another four hours…”

“Four hours!? What kind of city is this- god…just..fine. That will do.” He says in defeat. The boy nervously grabs the key and hands it to Dean. “C-can I have a name?…for the book I mean”. You couldn’t help. But feel sorry for the kid. He looked like he was about to wet himself. But Dean was an asshole, he had that effect on a lot of people. “Kyle Maddison” Dean says. He always used an alias especially on a job. You sank in the waiting seat you were tired, exhausted, trusted, disappointed now. The one thing you wanted was sleep, and also to get this job done and not see Dean again. But of course this had to happen. As much as you wanted to put up a fight, the idea of sleep sounded marvellous. Dean finishes up and turns around storming out the door not waiting for you. Why would he? You follow along and find yourselves at room 403. “Can’t fucking believes this” he mutters. You enter the room and he throws his bags on the small table. Both of you look at the double bed in the room. Now there was the elephant in the room. “Well what are we going to do now?” You say. Dean takes his jacket off and kicks his shoes off. “I dunno about you sweetheart but sleep sounds great right about now and this bed- oh she’s calling my name”. He smiles at the furniture and falls o to the comfortable looking mattress. “Excuse me?” You say annoyed. Dean just st looks at you confused, as if you should already somehow know the answer. “What?” Your jaw drops and you scoff. “Where the hell am I gonna sleep? Why don’t I get the bed? Ladies first and all?” Dean lets out a choked laugh “ha! Honest I paid for the room. I get the bed. And I sure as hell ain’t sharin’ so.”- he darts his eyes at the floor. A small space beside the bed that could fit your body with a little extra room. “You’ve got to be kidding me Dean” you growl. “Your fucking ridiculous” you shout. “Well that’s not my problem now is it? You’re lucky I even let us stay in here. Lucky I even paid for us to have the room. Speaking of”- deans eyes dart to the mini fridge. “Bingo”. He rolls his body out of bed and raids the mini fridge. “You know you have to pay for that?” You attempt to ruin his joy. But he just shrugs. “Ah fake credit cards, never paid a dollar for these in my life” he says muffled as he shoves chips into his mouth. “You’re actually ridiculous my god”. You couldn’t believe he was making you sleep on the floor. You notice there was a small ensuite. Perfect, a shower. Just what you needed after today. Showers always made you feel better no matter what kind of day you’ve had. And perhaps this would help with this sleeping arrangement. “I’m going for a shower” is all you say as you enter the bathroom and shut the door behind you. Dean continued stuffing his face with drinks and snacks.

***

The shower was warm and refreshing, the water trickled down your body and the rosy scented soap suds drizzled down you and into the drain. For a moment you had forgotten all about your worries. Just the warmth and comfort of the shower. You had been in there for quite some time and you were now at the brink of passing out from tiredness. You quickly finish in the shower and dress yourself in satin sleepwear, another comfort item. You open the ensuite door and are greeted with the smell of pizza. “Dean. Did you get pizza?” You ask in shock and confusion. You watch as Dean shovelled down a pizza, noticing the delivery recipet hanging on the bed. “Yeah…well, the snacks didn’t fulfill my hunger so I ya know- got food.” You could barely make out his words while he chewed. The smell of pepperoni wafted in your nose and you felt your stomach ache. You too were starving and hadn’t eaten for hours either. And now it was almost sickening. “It was a two for one special so I got you a cheese pizza” deans voice interrupts your thoughts and he points to a box on the bed. With a shocked expression you move your way to the box and take it “uh…thank you” you mutter. “Pfft didn’t do it for you. Almost considered eating that one myself. You just got lucky tonight that’s all” how voice was cold and sarcastic. Would he ever lighten up? Rolling your eyes you sit on a small stool and shovel the pizza in your mouth. More time had passed and it was closer to midnight, your stomach was full, Dean was now lying in bed trying to sleep and you, you were making a makeshift bed on the floor. as you made your bed, you huff and puffed and made all kinds of sounds expressing your annoyance and frustration with your sleep arrangement, hoping it would get a reaction out of Dean. “Look I ain’t happy about it either, the sooner we get this done the better it will be alright? You fight demons and all kinds supernatural beasts but you can’t sleep On the floor? pfft make that make sense” he snarks. Rolling your eyes you finally lay down on the hard, rough carpeted floor and attempt to find a comfortable position. “Yet, you’re too afraid to share the bed” you respond. Dean doesn’t reply he rolls over facing away from you and attempts to sleep. He couldn’t help but feel a little bad for making you sleep on the floor, it was cruel even for him, but he refused to kill his ego and sleep in the same bed with you. Soon he shut his eyes and drifted off to sleep. And you, you tossed and turned for another hour trying to get comfortable until sleep finally took you and you fell into a deep rest.

Hours had gone by, it was around 4 am when you felt something touch your arm. It’s little legs tickled your fingers, and then your hand, then up to your arms and finally, you woke to the sensation, thinking it was a dream. Your eyes fly open, and you notice and sensation was real. It was a roach from the floor, crawling on your hand. Your eyes widen and an earth shattering scream bursts through your lips. You jump to your feet waving your arm around, throwing the roach into the air. “FUCK! BUG! ROACH! AHHHHH!” You could barely make the words, Dean wakes up in a panic. Your worst fear was bugs. “What the hell Y/N?!” Dean yells. You grasp your knees breathing heaving trying to catch your breath. “There was a - a bug!…crawled on me-“ you pant. Deans face contorts, annoyance and tiredness reading all over him. “You woke me up over a goddamn bug!?” Dean yells. You were still shaken up “it was Crawling in me!” You scream. Dean signs and falls back onto his pillow. “Go to bed. Fuckin pussy” those last words he mutters, but you could still hear him. You look back at your bed, a blanket and a single pillow. If there was one roach, there had to be others. You were exhausted, your eyes barely focusing. Dean grunts and tries to fall back asleep. But no way in hell could you sleep now. What if another crawled on you? What if it went in your mouth? Or bit you somehow? Can Roaches even bite? Well you weren’t gonna try and find out. With a shaky breath you contemplate what to do. The floor was so uncomfortable you knew your back would hurt in the morning, there was also possibly a family of bugs waiting to dance in your body. But there right in front of you was the coziest looking bed right now. You sigh feeling defeated, you knew what his answer would be but you needed to try. You tiptoe over and stare at him for a moment. The moonlight illuminating his features. He looked so peaceful sleeping. His soft lips parted slightly, his arms hugging his pillow. He looked cute, almost like he could be nice. Something he’d never been to you. You reach out a finger and poke his arm, he grunts but doesn’t wake. “Dean!” You whisper. He could not have fallen back asleep that fast. “Dean!” You say louder. He jolts awake again “huh? What? Oh…for god sakes Y/n what are you doing awake? You’re not still scared about a damn bug are you?” His voice deep and tired. “As a matter of a fact yes, I’m horrified. Can I-can I please sleep on the bed? You won’t know I’m even there? Please” you whimper. He rolls his eyes too tired to argue. He was tired, he wanted sleep. Needed it infact. His eyes lazily look at you “no” is all he says before laying his head on the pillow. “But - but”- he doesn’t say a word he closes his eyes and ignores you. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’ you thought. Well it was worth a shot. You shakily lay back down in your makeshift bed feeling unease. Dean wasn’t asleep, he couldn’t. Not after the guttural scream that came from you. He felt guilty. Why? He wasn’t sure. But it wasn’t fair for you to sleep on the floor. Dean tried everything he could to get comfortable and sleep but all he could hear was you tossing and groaning.

His tired figure rolls across and he props himself up on his arms watching you. Watching your tiny body shake and quiver. ‘God she’s really shaken up over a bug?’ Dean thought. He knew you were completely terrified of them, it was almost pathetic. He couldn’t help but feel dread and guilt. You looked so frightened, that floor did not look comfortable and after all you hadn’t annoyed him too ouch today. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so hard on you, for tonight. His arm hangs down and he shoves your shoulder, starting you awake. “Cmon. Now” is all he says. He pays the mattress beside him I. A sleepy manner before rolling back over. “Don’t make me regret this”. He mumbles. It takes you a second to realise what he said and you jump to your feet. You knew Dean wanted you up bright and early but with the broken sleep you were having, that plan was going to change. You gently slide yourself into the mattress, trying not to disturb Dean. The soft foam supported your back and the pillow under your head was the perfect fineness. Your eyes shut almost immediately, exhaustion overriding you as you fall into a deep sleep. Hours had gone by and both you and Dean had slept in. It was now 10:30 am and neither of you had woken up. The sun beams on your skin, the sound of birds chirped outside.

The second you had placed your head on that mattress you had the sounded sleep Ever. In fact possible too good- Dean was first to wake his eyes slowly blinking open. But he couldn’t move. Sleepily he looks down and it takes a moment before he freezes in place. Your head on his chest. You were sleeping in a ball snuggled tightly into Dean, peacefully sleeping on his chest and one hand over his chest. Drool escapes your lips and trickles onto this shirt. You looked…peaceful. Deans eyes widened. What the hell would he do now?

(Stay Tuned For Part Two…Coming Soon)

#smut #angst #dean smut #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #supernatural #dean x y/n #dean winchester #enemies to lovers

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paintingwhiteceilings · 10 months

Text

❃Seventeen’s chances of surviving a zombie apocalypse❃

a/n: soooo I wrote this for EXO and thought, well, why not do the same for svt. Anyway, enjoy!

Scoups/Seungcheol: 8/10

❀ The fists are up and he is ready to fight anyone or anything that gets too close. His physical strength will definitely get him far. At the same time, this man is also a bit, just a bit, of a scaredy-cat when it comes to horror stuff (remember him and DK in the haunted house?). In this case, it might actually help him out, keeping him on his toes constantly.

❀ He is super competitive too. If anyone lets it slip that he might not survive the apocalypse, he will make it his sole goal in life to out-apocalypse everyone around him.

❀ Then again, as the members like to remind him, he is not the youngest and perhaps doesn’t have the best endurance any more. He needs to sit down every now and then, leaving him prone to zombies.

❀ He will definitely be complaining the entire time. Somehow, he manages to make his situation sound much worse than it really is.

Jeonghan: 9/10

❀ Nothing really phases him, I feel like Jeonghan has maxed out all his stats and has, consequently, become unstoppable. He is an absolute ace and makes everyone wonder whether he was born to be in a zombie apocalypse.

❀ The only reason I am docking a point is due to this man’s constant exhaustion and love for sleep. His main motto is “Better be lazy than tired” so I wouldn’t be surprised at Jeonghan trying to find ways to shortcut the most basic of tasks. There is a slight, very tiny, chance for his master-mind plans to go awry.

❀ Once he finds himself in a dangerous situation or on the brink of being eaten, he will simply give up. Maybe life is truly easier as a zombie. At least he won’t have to constantly be on the run.

❀ Still, Jeonghan will be going through this apocalypse in the most efficient way possible, trying to find any loopholes to make his life easier and preserving his energy for those moments when he truly needs it.

Joshua 5/10

❀ Honestly, Joshua is such a wild card. He would definitely try to employ the “they can’t predict what I am doing if I don’t know what I am doing” tactic. Joshua becomes the definition of “can’t let them know your next move.”

❀ It would work half of the time. Either the zombies get so confused that he catches them off guard, or all he did was inconvenience himself further.

❀ Like, what if, instead of running away from the zombies, he would run towards them? The zombies would definitely not be expecting it but it would make it easier for them to, you know, kill him.

❀ His ideas are borderline insane, and nobody can really tell whether it is due to the apocalypse or because he is Joshua, having always been slightly out of his mind. He will definitely get someone else accidentally killed by suggesting a crazy plan. My money is on Hoshi.

Jun 4/10

❀ The reason this man has any chance of survival is because Seventeen treats him like a maknae. I am pretty sure they would sacrifice anyone and anything to keep him alive, and he kind of needs it.

❀ Jun isn’t particularly known for his amazing talent at sports. He always gets picked last in any GoSe episode containing physical games which makes his odds of surviving not too great. Like yeah, sure, he is ripped and probably has amazing endurance, but ask him to throw anything and he will miss.

❀ He is also unpredictable and doesn’t really listen to the others. They will tell him not to touch the zombies and he will see it as a challenge, “I can touch a zombie if I want to!”

❀ 10000000% the type to try and communicate with the zombies. He is convinced that if he can learn Korean, he can also learn zombie and ask them if they can become friends.

❀ (Maybe slightly unrelated, but he would be an amazing person to have around for emotional support. He would be great at comforting those feeling pessimistic, scared or upset.)

Hoshi/Soonyoung: -100000/10 or 100000/10

❀ It can go two ways with Hoshi. Either he hides somewhere and vanishes from the universe until the apocalypse has ended or he gets himself killed within the first day.

❀ Hoshi has proven that if he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find him. Somehow, this energetic mess of a Gemini is able to turn invisible when he wants to. Depending on how bored he gets, he might be able to stick it out until the apocalypse has ended.

❀ If he doesn’t hide, he is as good as dead. He has the dangerous combination of not being scared of zombies and zero impulse control. He will be trying something stupid without a second thought and would get himself killed.

❀ He growls at the zombies because surely, they would be intimidated by him. He is a tiger, after all.

❀ His members are seriously considering putting a leash on him so that he can’t constantly run off doing god knows what. He just really hates sitting still, let him go risk his life getting provisions.

❀ Honestly, the main reason why Hoshi won’t survive for long is because he would do another impression of Seungkwan, resulting in Seungkwan ‘accidentally’ kicking him into a hoard of zombies.

Wonwoo: 10/10

❀ He has played enough games and watched enough Netflix to know what to do in the event of a zombie apocalypse. Wonwoo is prepared, well-read and ready to go. He will be the smart one that tries to find out what makes the zombies tick, taking notes on their behaviours and potential weaknesses.

❀ Wonwoo is, furthermore, so incredibly athletic. He can outrun the zombies with ease, not even breaking a sweat when he does.

❀ He also seems to possess brain cells compared to some of the members and a dose of common sense. I know that there is no normal one in Seventeen but he seems to put a lot of thought in his decision-making and seems less inclined to listen to his intrusive thoughts.

❀ Wonwoo could survive on his own, his introverted side ensuring that he doesn’t really feel the need to seek out others and depend on them. The only reason he sticks around the other members is for the drama. He loves watching the others bicker for hours, eating his popcorn as he lurks in the nearby shadows.

Woozi/Jihoon: ∞/10

❀ He has no idea that there is a zombie apocalypse going on because he hasn’t really gone outside since it started. Yeah sure, the gym he frequents has been really quiet as of late, but that is an absolute win in his book and he is not to going to jinx it by mentioning it.

❀ The world could literally be ending on the other side of his window, and this man would think that the sirens would make for an awesome sample for his song. What do you mean, sirens mean that something is going on outside?

❀ It doesn’t even matter if the other members come to check up on him or try to convince him to leave the studio, informing him the world is ending. “What do you mean it is dangerous outside, it always is dangerous outside.”

❀ He will simply survive the entire apocalypse because he had no awareness of it and it had no awareness of him. Woozi is on another level entirely.

DK/Seokmin: -1000/10

❀ An absolute mess. Somewhere laying on the ground in the feudal position up for grabs.

❀ He has been screaming since it started. The joke is on him, though. His screaming is precisely what alerts the zombies to his location and he is completely unaware of it. He finds himself in a vicious cycle where he sees a zombie, screams, more zombies appear, screams more, etc.

❀ He is ruled by his fear, trying his hardest not to be scared, but is in dire need of a hug. He needs the other members to comfort him and take the initiative because he is too scared to really do anything. He will definitely get someone else to go first; what do you mean you want him to go into that dark alleyway???

❀ He would not be able to respond well to finding himself cornered by zombies. Rather than fighting back or trying to come up with a plan, DK would most definitely just scream at them to get back and freeze.

Mingyu 1/10

❀ Technically, Mingyu should be able to survive. He is an excellent cook and can whip up any dish as long as you give him some ingredients. Also, as we have all seen, this man is mostly muscle. He should be able to hold his own in a physical fight.

❀ Not to mention that Mingyu is ridiculously smart. He can come up with a decent plan and have it work out.

❀ But his downfall is, well, literally, him falling down. He is clumsy; he will either accidentally drop something that is important to their survival and break it, or run into a tree as he is trying to make his escape.

❀ He is also not the best when it comes to the scary stuff (though I feel like he did pretty well in GoSe Ego). What do you mean he has to jump down from that ledge in order to escape the zombies? No thank you. Go into that abandoned supermarket, potentially running into zombies because he has run out of food? He would rather starve.

❀ They kind of need to keep him alive to keep Seungkwan from murdering half of the group.

The8/Minghao: 10000/10

❀ He is not scared of the zombies, the zombies are scared of him. They have interrupted his meditation sessions and are now regretting awakening his anger issues. He hasn’t been chill since the apocalypse started, and is now on a path of vengeance against those who disrupted his meditation.

❀ I know that Vicious Mockery is a D&D spell and, you know, magic, but he would be the one to make it a reality. He is able to emotionally damage the zombies, giving him the ability to attack from afar. As an added bonus, they would become more and more reluctant to get close, afraid to get roasted.

❀ Considering that he is great at martial art, Minghao can beat them up physically if they make the poor decision to get up in his personal space. So yeah, the zombies have learned to avoid him at all costs.

❀ The only thing that could potentially stop his destruction of zombies is the ethics and morals of beating them up. He might get into a debate with Vernon about whether their remaining humanity makes it unethical to hurt them, and ultimately decides that it is bad for his karma to continue his act of wrath.

Seungkwan: 5/10

❀ Initially, Seungkwan is so scared of them, he won’t get close enough to get killed. He is constantly nagging the zombies from a safe distance, warning them to stay away. All it does is make the zombies more determined to kill him. He keeps asking them to stop, but apparently, the tone he uses is important or something because they keep getting offended.

❀ Honestly, without Seungkwan’s constant nagging, half of the group would be acting on their insane and idiotic ideas. Then again, he would also be the one to ‘accidentally’ sacrifice some of the members when they inevitably get on his nerves.

❀ He would be ready to throw hands if you get him mad enough, forgetting he was scared in the first place. However, where Minghao’s anger issues result in a skilled display of violence, Seungkwan is ready to attack without much thought, considering the consequences later, hence disregarding his own safety in a fight.

❀ Regardless, Seungkwan will go out in a fire of rage, taking an absurd amount of zombies with him as he goes. It is glorious and cinema worthy.

Vernon: ?/10

❀ He is a npc so he can’t die. That is definitely how that works. Vernon is simply a part of the environment, don’t mind him. The zombies don’t recognize him as someone they can eat because they somehow believe him to be a non-interactable object straight out of a game.

❀ That being said, similarly to Jun, he hasn’t been particularly blessed with amazing motoric skills. I don’t think I have ever seen Vernon properly run, I feel like rather than running he would try to out-speed walk the zombies. Do not expect him to fight, he will try the bare minimum, and even that is too much to ask.

❀ Then again, he has consumed so many films and tv shows that he does have a massive mental archive of everything that has been produced about zombies from which he can draw whenever he finds himself in a pickle. Is fiction reality? No. Is it useful regardless? Yes.

❀ Considering he is Seventeen’s other favourite child, they will try their best to keep him alive. He has them all wrapped around his finger. One little whine and they will bend over backwards to help him with whatever he needs/wants.

Dino/Chan: -1000000000/10

❀ He is trying his best. If it wasn’t for the others, he would have a decent chance at making it out alive. He is fit, motivated and confident about his own capabilities without being overconfident. On his own, he would be determined to see the apocalypse through.

❀ Pair him up with Wonwoo and nothing can get him killed. Wonwoo will keep his Dino alive even if it costs him his own life.

❀ That being said, the members would get him 1000% killed. They won’t let him breathe for a second and he has to constantly watch his back. They love him, sure, but they also think his shrieks of panic as they ‘accidentally’ lock him in a room with a zombie are hilarious.

❀ Against all of them, he truly doesn’t stand a chance. They don’t really want to get him killed but they make staying alive arguably much more difficult for him than it needs to be.

❀ At this point, he might simply give up and switch teams. He can get revenge on them by turning into a zombie, finally having the last laugh as he munches on their brains.

masterlist

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ambrosiagourmet · 3 months

Note

Has anyone requested Marcille for the ask meme? If not then pls

Marcille!!!!!!!!!

First impression

Gay? Interesting elf girl with a really good design for a female character oh my god thank you. She gets to wear pants!!! It's a miracle!

Impression now

BELOVED HALF-ELF OF MY HEART... most determined member of the party, maybe second only to Laios. Not that it's a competition.

Girl who carries the weight of her existence in her heart everywhere she goes. Girl who doesn't know how to just exist because that would mean surrendering to the things time will take away from her. Girl with bloody knuckles who clings too tightly to the things she loves because she remembers a time when she didn't realize what they meant to her.

Girl who must shape a life too big to hold all at once. Who stares into that impossible task so unflinchingly that you kind of want to tell her to run away from it for a bit. Be a bit more of a coward, Marcille! But she doesn't have time to be a coward!! She's hurtling towards her goals at terminal velocity. But the same love that keeps her tumbling forward also pulls her back from the brink. Because she's still figuring out the balance.

Favorite moment

Rabbit chapter... my god rabbit chapter.........

Genuinely maybe my favorite chapter in the whole manga. It hits such an incredible peak of humor and raw emotion and impossibly ridiculous situations and grounded believable character writing. And no part of it is separate from the others.

What a fucking chapter. And what a fucking thesis for why Marcille is such a good character. Her being ridiculous and her being incredibly determined and her being powerful and her being scared are ALL part of her. Man. Marcille. She will do anything to pull through for her friends.

And then on top of it the way the Lion takes advantage of this moment to pull her strings. Which is just. So horrifying to watch because you want someone to give her a hug but all the people who would give her a hug are currently DEAD and she's left in a room along and exhausted with a manipulative, abusive, hungry opportunist. God. God. I love Rabbit Part II So Very Much.

Idea for a story

Umm hi sorry I am still busy thinking about Rabbit Part II. Please enjoy some shameless self promotion while I go lie down for a bit.

Unpopular opinion

She's bisexual!!!!! Normally I don't hold so fast to like "well canonically this character was into A Man so she can't be a lesbian blah blah blah" but it does bum me out that people ignore her succubus because I really do think that bi Marcille deserves more love. It doesn't make her any less into women sheesh.

Favorite relationship

Sorry I was thinking about Rabbit Part II again what was the question? Favorite relationship?

Yeah I dunno maybe Marcille and Laios? I kinda like the part where they rely on each other because there is no other way through and share an unnamed intimacy born in blood and bone and the way that they place impossible burdens on each other and owe each other their lives many times over and neither holds it against the other or asks for the repayment of debts that can never be repaid, choosing instead to keep walking into the future by each others sides because what else can you do. What else can you do.

They are pretty cool I guess. I'm normal about them though. Haha.

Favorite headcanon

I imagine that castle staff help Marcille with her hair on a day-to-day basis because leaving it just to personal friends and family would probably be impractical. But also I think Chilchuck, Laios, Falin, and also especially KABRU all learn enough to help her with it. I think that the first three learn some basic nice stuff but I think Kabru would get really into it.

That man could absolutely intensely hyperfixate on something like "nice hairstyles from another culture" for three to six months and come out the other side an expert.

#ask #ask meme #thank you for your patience!!!#and sorry it has taken me so long to get around to finishing these 😅#I love Marcille so very much

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idlerin · 1 year

Text

nonsense — 25. wish you were sober

“fuck you,” you shout into the phone, arm stretched out to display your middle finger to the air. you stumbled your way to the bathroom to puke your guts out and ended up slumped on the floor, breathing heavily out of exhaustion.

“hello to you too,” oikawa’s voice was husky, you’ve woken him up from much needed sleep.

“i hate you so much,” you clench your phone, it was an automatic response whenever you were around him, it was usually contained in your head, but your mouth was looser now than ever.

“i’m guessing you’re drunk,” oikawa mumbles, rising groggily from his bed. he situates into trying to find his slippers.

“fuck off,” you didn’t even know what you were saying anymore. you were too disoriented to be reasoned with.

“you’re the one who called me,” oikawa defends himself without much bite. he knew some of the crew were going out tonight since his makeup artist was telling him about it earlier, even tried inviting him, but he knew it wasn’t his place to go, he would only make things awkward for everyone, and he wouldn’t want to see himself in the headlines the next morning, “hm, where are the people you came with?”

“uhm…” you genuinely start thinking about it, the last you saw of them, akane was talking amongst herself in a corner and riseki was trying to make sure the other people you knew were still standing, but that was thirty minutes ago, “i dunno.”

“…” oikawa rubbed the sleepiness away from his eyes, it was time to focus, “okay… where are you?”

“in the bathroom,” you say in a ‘duh’ tone, although he couldn’t possibly know that.

“make it less specific, darling,” he urges, standing up and walking out of his room to make his way towards his kitchen, he needs a glass of water.

“uhmmmm a club,” you bob your head to the side, one of your hands fiddling with the shirt you were wearing because you were bored.

“which club specifically?” oikawa asks again, it ticks you off.

“you want it specific then you don’t want it specific! ugh! make up your mind!” you get angry, flinging your hands all over the place, just then a random person walks in, looks at you, then warily goes to a stall while you glare at them.

“shh, [name],” oikawa says your name in a gentle tone only he could muster up, “calm down, i’m sorry, can you please answer my question? which club are you in?”

“[club name],” you grumble, he was asking so nicely, it was horrible, so you had no choice but to answer, truly.

“you need to get home, have you contacted your friends?” oikawa runs a hand through his hair.

“no… and the dorms are closed now,” you murmur, nodding off a little, you think that you should get up, it was kind of cold in here, but you were too tired to get up.

“can you go ahead and call your friends?”

“no,” you refuse.

“why not?”

“because you’re ordering me around!” you shout in anger through the phone once again.

“i’m not, darling, it’s for your sake, please go ahead and call your friends,” oikawa tries to reason, but again, you were too past the point of reasoning.

“i don’t want to listen to you!” tears were starting to develop, and oikawa noticed it with the way your voice strained.

“okay…alright, i’m on my way, don’t hang up,” he goes ahead and puts on a hoodie and a cap, grabbing his keys and leaving his penthouse.

“what?” his words finally registered after a few minutes.

“darling, you’re so drunk you’re calling me again, you need to be around someone sober,” oikawa says as he’s walking through the parking lot.

“i’m not drunk!” you were defensive.

“mhm,” oikawa gets in the driver’s seat of his car.

“you don’t believe me! i’m not! i’m not drunk!” you stand up out of exasperation, still on the brink of tears.

“i believe you, darling,” oikawa places his phone on his phone holder and puts you on speaker.

“you told me i needed someone sober! i am sober!” you argue, a tear finally falling down as you sniffle.

“yes, yes, you’re very sober darling. i’m sorry, don’t cry, please, and don’t go anywhere, wait for me there okay?” oikawa starts the engine.

“don’t tell me what. to. do!” you whine.

oikawa really really hopes you’re going to listen to him and won’t be wandering around in the next… 30 minutes, the time displayed on maps from his apartment to your location.

“i want to go home,” you, the drunkard, whined. oikawa managed to sneak himself inside without anyone recognizing him. luckily, you did stay in the bathroom, but once he found you, you defensively shouted, ‘i only stayed because i’m too tired to get up!’

that was good enough for him.

oikawa took it upon himself to lift you off the ground despite your protests and led you outside and onto a corner where the two of you could be alone despite the loud music in the background. a corner where you also end up slumped on.

“drink this first,” he crouches and hands you a bottle of water he bought.

“what’s that? tequila?” your eyes narrow.

oikawa laughs, “it’s water, silly.”

“i’m not silly!” you point at him angrily. oikawa just smiles, holding in more laughter as he opens the bottle and assists you in drinking it. holding your chin up with his finger so you could swallow it down properly without it spilling everywhere, all the while you glare at him.

“i’ll try to call akaashi-san,” oikawa said once he was done.

“how do you know him?” your glare didn’t rest.

“because you kept calling me whenever you’re super wasted, darling,” oikawa had the nerve to wink while closing the bottle. he sets it aside as he stands up and opens up his phone.

“i don’t do that!” your forehead knots.

oikawa ignores you as he brings his phone to his ear, but he was left with a, “heya heya hey! you’re calling kaashi’s phone but this is his boyfriend speaking! keiji can’t answer his phone right now, sorry, try again later, for now why don’t you leave a message after the beep. beep.”

oikawa silently cursed, it was 3 in the morning.

“what are we going to do now?” oikawa looks down at the inebriated you and thinks he’s going to have a headache, he can only act casual with you right now because you weren’t your usual self, and he’s warily looking to the sides if someone were to approach.

“can’t i just go home with you?” you groan out, wanting to be on a bed right at this second. you really didn’t quite care whose bed it is right now. you were lucky it was oikawa in this situation with you right now or else you’d really have been possibly found dead in a ditch somewhere in the morning.

oikawa gets all flustered and red at your drunk comment, something you definitely wouldn’t have said if you were 10 something shots less of alcohol.

“that can’t happen, darling,” he replies while pulling you up on your feet, you were still weak in the knees so he had to place your arms on his shoulders and his on your waist so you wouldn’t go straight tumbling down.

“why not?” you say it so innocently and with a slight pout, the only thing oikawa could think was that your actions would horrify you if you were sober. perhaps it would make you hate him even more.

“because you hate me,” he mumbles, it was barely spoken but since you were in this situation you can definitely still hear.

“i don’t hate you,” you fiddle with the fabric of oikawa’s shirt on his shoulder, face flushed with drunkenness and words full of honesty. the truth you wouldn’t even admit to yourself.

oikawa felt as if you took his breath away, “you really need to stop calling me when you’re drunk.”

that ruins the moment, because you become angry again, “i told you i don’t do that!”

oikawa grins, one hand leaving your waist to put it on your forehead and erase the signs of your irritation, “and stop forgetting about doing it after.”

it works, somehow, and you’ve calmed down. you were staring at the ground, distracted. oikawa was still thinking of what to do when you spoke up again, “you were really great today.”

“hm?” you caught his attention once more.

“earlier, at the shoot, you were great,” your head stayed down and you were leaning on his chest.

oikawa’s heart beat faster, maybe you’re hearing it too, “you saying that means a lot to me,” he says.

“i kind of…” you pause, “i miss you,” you say in one breath.

the moment was heartwarming, sentimental. something that never would have happened under normal circumstances. something you refuse to ever say out loud. something that would have stayed in the back of your mind, the only escape being when you’re alone and thinking and your mind wanders off to him again.

and then you passed out.

“i miss you too, [name]. [name]?” oikawa was flabbergasted when you became limp in his arms.

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

bokuto changes akaashi’s voicemail every few months (when he remembers) a tiny new variation every time. last time it was “hello this is akaashi’s phone and this is bokuto speaking, my keiji can’t come to the phone right now! why? cause he’s busy! why don’t you leave a message after the beep. beep!”

you calling oikawa whenever you were super intoxicated happened very rarely, around 5 times throughout the years and none of your friends knew.

akaashi only knew about you calling oikawa whenever you were super wasted after like, the second time it happened, on the fourth time oikawa finally got his contacts.

you never look at your call history.

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — akaashi as ur voice of reason fr fr also this encounter makes sm sense when u look at the playlist bc i spoil stuff in the songs i put there but not every song means smth so ur left guessing lmao idk if its just me who never looks at their call history but its fine reader does it too (i think this makes me sound insane)

taglist is open ! + (1/2) @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @konzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @renardiererin @yyuiz @epeec28 @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite @princelingperfect @hearts4faey @yoonabeo @pantherhappy @julia-1901 @godsbiggestmenace @angel-luv-04 @noideawhothatis @bethbat @natsvmie @luna-mothii @lylovw @apinu @leave-rae-alone @kamikokii @bananasquash @eitaababe @minimari415 @hanabihwa

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