#no one else bothers even though they know he's deaf

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

TWST Cast - Fidgets/Stims/Self-Regulation

I needed something simple to write to feel like I'm. we're not actually gonna get into that, anyways, enjoy.

TW: Some of these are NOT healthy/borderline SH, but there's nothing graphic, it's just some folks don't know What's Wrong and only know how to make themselves focus via some sort of (minor) physical pain.

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Heartslaybul

Riddle - had to mask around his mother, said his stims (bouncing his leg, and kinda just. shaking his pen? you know what I mean, like between two fingers and you just let it bounce?) made him look mentally unwell (🙄), unruly and undisciplined. Totally not projecting At All So he rarely stims in public when he's trying to focus, though during testing periods and in the safety of his own room he tends to let himself (subconsciously) stim. He also chews on his bottom lip a lot, but not enough that it was ever noticed by his mother. (Floyd gifts him a fidget ring sometime in the future and he's surprised at how well it works for him) He also loves compression but has yet to discover it.

Trey - He doesn't stim a whole lot, but even in game we know that he tends to touch/readjust his glasses when he feels awkward/about to join a conversation or make a point he's being a bit of a smart alec about. Usually when he's really stressed, (which takes quite a bit to get him there), he'll excessively wash his hands with cold water.

Cater - has a lot of caffeine, so for the most part, his impulses to stim aren't there. That being said, when anxiety comes to kick him in the butt, usually just listening to music and tapping out the rhythm of the guitar with his finger against his thigh is enough to help him out, usually while keeping the beat by tapping his foot or bobbing his head at the same time. (usually some soft rock or pop music) When he's REALLY like. needs to get emotions out but can't because he doesn't like being vulnerable he makes himself eat unbearably hot (spicy) food and insists that he likes it even as he is Crying and Sniffling because. then he can write it off to the spice and not the fact he's dying inside. (Don't do this please sdlkjfhlksdjf) Sometimes he also stims by making popping noises, but he doesn't even recognize that he does this, because usually it's just when it's him and Trey in the room, and Trey isn't bothered by it. "Like" and "Really" are both stim words for him too.

Deuce - He's still learning to self-regulate! He knows that shouting helps him get everything out, but in the moment he sometimes struggles. He's still trying out different techniques. As for stims/fidgets Deuce doesn't really have any? Well he does, but he doesn't act on them when he needs to focus since One Incident early on in life when he found out that his fidgets make noise (he's deaf as a part of my HC and didn't get hearing aids until he was like 5-6) and he hates to be a bother to anyone else. On top of that, I think he has a slight auditory processing disorder, so he has a tendency to repeat things back to people, just to make sure he's understood correctly once his brain has caught up to their words. He doesn't know it yet, but compression will help him Calm Down when needed.

Ace - Whistling/noise imitation in general, bouncing his leg, pen tapping, etc. this guy has ADHD but thank the Seven for his older brother who was patient and gentle with him when he was younger. When Ace struggles to focus, he tends to just shuffle a deck of cards, he likes the way they feel. In the rare occasion that he chooses to study, he usually does so while shuffling the cards/practicing a magic trick at the same time because the Physical task during the Mental task makes the Mental task more interesting. He also uses music as a means of self-regulation. (Usually classic rock).

Savannaclaw

Leona - His emotional regulation is out to lunch and the closest he gets to stimming is his tail flicking. It could be argued that the feeling of his blankets is Nice To Him but idk man. Catnip helps with regulation? Idk. Sure.

Ruggie - Idk are we counting his tail wagging as a stim? technically it could be considered one, right, it's a subconscious physical response to happiness? Ruggie also tends to chew on his lip when he's focusing, but his teeth are sharper than Riddle's so it often draws blood and he rarely notices. Sometimes he's kinda hit with just a Wave of what the fuck am I doing with my life? and just needs to rub something soft (Usually Leona's laundry bc it's more luxurious than anyone else's), a little bit to try and recenter himself. If that doesn't work he just tries to work himself to a point of exhaustion so he can ignore the Bad Feelings. This rarely works and he ends up calling his grandma by the end of it just to ask her to leave the phone on speaker so he can hear the chaos and rough and tumble of home. At the end of the phone call his grandma sings to him bc she knows full well what's going on and the sense of familiarity is enough to help Ruggie feel less restless. This boy also loves compression. Also, rolling with the idea that he got to keep the trumpet from the port fest event and started teaching it to himself, during the day/when he's bored he practices tonguing+breathing excercises/patterns (don't be weird about this I stg) or buzzing with or without his mouth piece. Also chews on his nails a lot. I feel like eventually someone gifts him one of those chew necklaces and he loves it but his bite force accidentally damages it much sooner than it should have been so then that same person gets one commissioned specifically to withstand a hyena's bite force and it's the best gift he'll have ever gotten (besides a wad of cash but yknow)

Jack - I mean besides his tail wagging...there isn't much else? For emotional regulation, he tends to just go running if he needs something to focus on. Music also helps sometimes, but it's specifically classical and he just sits in bed and listens to it in his comfiest clothes bc. unlike SOME people he will listen to his body and mind and rest when necessary.

Octavinelle

Azul - Him? Stim? Never. /J He masks a lot mostly because he knows that stimming can come off as anxious, and that's the last thing he wants when he's trying to be convincing to someone else, or really, in front of the twins. That being said, alone in his office he twirls his pen a lot, and late nights/Anxiety Times leads to him tugging on that strand of hair that's longer than the rest as a means of staying focused and in the moment. He thinks he can't be vulnerable in front of the twins but honestly they pick up on his anxiety so easily, they both know compression helps him out. Jade is generally touch repulsed, so usually Floyd takes it upon himself to Flop on Azul's back while he's working. Azul will sometimes imitate playing chords on the piano, on his desk for the same reason Ace plays with cards. He also finds himself stress eating sometimes which does nothing good for his self-esteem.

Jade - Also Masks A Lot. It would take someone he trusts even more than his own twin that would ever get to see him act on his impulses. Otherwise we would see Jade with the happy flappies (though I feel like he would keep his hands in fists instead). However, when things are Bad, Jade does one of two things, both of which are done in a locked bathroom. 1. Fill the sink with cold water and dunk his head in without switching to his mer form. 2. Rolls up his sleeves and bites himself. Just once is usually enough to get him out of it. He also finds the whole. Cleaning out the wound and wrapping himself pretty relaxing. He has not considered just using a tensor bandage yet to self regulate, eventually Floyd will find out wtf he's doing and suggest That instead. Jade will sometimes unmask just enough to rock slightly side to side or back and forth/up on his tiptoes and back down bc he can make it fit with his whole 'I'm innocent baby' kinda facade he pulls sometimes sdlkfjhslkdjf Also tends to need a completely silence space when he's overstimulated.

Floyd -WHOOOOOWEEE babes you already know he is STIM central WHOOT WHOOT he's got the happy flappies, he's got the leg bouncy, he's got the clicky pen, he's got the 'I gotta touch something squishy' need, etc. etc. HOWEVER sometimes he's got the Bad Stims, like he cannot focus on anything, nothing is being retained, he feels over and understimulated at the same time, nothing feels Good, he doesn't feel hungry, he wants Nothing to do with anyone, his leg is bouncing, he's kinda just stabbing his pencil repeatedly into the table and he KNOWS he should focus but just can't- and then Lilia introduces him to metal music and it's like Wow. Everything is better. It has to be blasting, but now Floyd has a means of dealing with That Feeling whenever it rolls around. Also it HAS to be over the ear headphones because of the compression and Friendly Squishy Texture of the parts that cover his ears. Makes him feel better in less than ten minutes, it's a win-win for everyone except he can never remember the name of the band, so he almost always tracks down Lilia to demand (ask) for a reminder and Lilia just almost always has his headphones and phone on hand so just Gives them to Floyd while he goes through Floyd's phone and curates a playlist for him and finds his exact headphones on the equivalent of Amazon so Floyd can order them. Floyd in general, when listening to music, tends to imitate whatever his favourite part of the song is, whether it's the bass line, guitar, drums, keyboard, lyrics, etc. and will switch between various parts as he sees fit. This also means it's not uncommon to hear Floyd essentially beatboxing as a stim method as well. Floyd also snaps his fingers a lot, he likes spinning things on his fingers (be it as innocent as a key chain or dangerous as scissors), and also imitates people a lot. He doesn't always intend to, but like. If he is talking to someone with an accent, he accidentally IMMEDIATELY takes on that accent and finds it funny because he literally can't stop himself. Idk if anyone else has this issue but dear god as someone more anxious than Floyd this has lead to a lot of awkward situations for me bc I have to CONSCIOUSLY not speak in whatever accent my brain is trying to make me take on.

Scarabia

Kalim - ALSO stim central, though his tend to be in response to happiness. He tends to parrot people a lot, beatboxes/makes noise, happy wiggles, snaps his fingers,lots of different kinds of taps, and has happy flappies. He has some. Not so good regulatory practices as well, but when he's overwhelmed he tends to rock back and forth, or ...like. Idk really how to describe it, but he taps his hand against his chest really fast, but it's like in a claw shape so after a few times it starts to hurt a little? because of his finger nails?? idk how else to describe it. He knows better than to do it in front of Jamil though. Music tends to overwhelm him when he's already overstimulated so he ends up putting headphones on just to try and block out the noise. White noise doesn't help, he just wants it to be as quiet as possible.

Jamil - Stims more than people realize, because his stims are naturally more subtle. When Kalim comes to 'bother' him in the kitchen, he keeps himself as focused and relaxed as possible by balancing on one foot at a time, to give himself something to think about besides the 'unwelcome' invasion. When he's studying, he flips his hood up and is constantly rubbing the fabric close to his face and has a bit of a leg bounce. He also uses music as a means of regulation, usually something with a lot of syncopation. Jamil also keeps his hand in a fist and bumps it against his side sometimes when he's trying to stay focused in a conversation.

Pomefiore

Vil - He doesn't really stim all that much, but on days he doesn't feel himself/bad anxiety/PTSD is getting to him, he washes his hands with burning hot water. He knows it's not good. And his hands are super sensitive afterwards. But it stops him from spiraling and that's all he needs. He takes care of them properly afterwards and will make sure to wear his gloves.

Rook - I kinda HC Rook with OCD. Most of his stims are his methods of coping with any sort of dirt or germs, perceived or otherwise. He hates not wearing his gloves, (of which he has different pairs for different Places), but in the event he can't have them on for whatever reason, or a task will be more efficiently done without them, he washes his hands until they're raw because then he can be sure that layer of skin that was in Contact isn't there. Rook regulates with scents a lot too, whether it be the perfume Neige/Vil uses or rooibos tea that his sister used to make for him.

Epel - Idk if gesticulation counts as stimming, but he does it a lot, just not in front of Vil dslkfjhksdjf. I feel like it's only really around Deuce that he feels comfortable doing his happy stomps, though for the hometown event he likely doesn't mask much so other people get to see it too. As much as Epel hates being called short, he likes the fact if he sits back far enough in his chair he can kick his feet without touching the floor sljdfhlksjd. He also tends to grind his teeth.

Ignihyde

Idia - He has SO MANY homemade fidgets but he gets tired of them really quickly so he ends up putting them in the scraps lab of Ignihyde. He likes clicking sounds a lot, (go figure /lh), and ASMR. In the (horrific) event he has to leave his room, usually he tries to keep his anxiety at bay via rubbing the ridges on his sweater, playing/rubbing at his hands/wrists in the pouch pocket of his sweater or rocking a bit, though he hates doing that bc it draws attention to him sometimes. If he does end up overstimulated in a Bad Way or anxious, he tends to pick at his lips/chew on his fingernails.

Ortho - Baby!! He tends to mimic other people's stims when they look fun! He does do happy trills/beeps now and then of his own volition and it's Adorable. He will also do them when he feels like cussing sldkfhlksjd Ortho also claps when he's happy, and if he has his boosters on might even do a little flip. As a treat. When he does need emotional regulation, he knows compression helps so he just asks big brother for a hug. 10/10.

Diasomnia

Malleus - Doesn't stim a whole lot...nor does he really emotionally regulate, though I feel like. For some reason he really likes (cloud) slime as a fidget. Like, he doesn't need it in order to regulate anything, but he finds the texture and sound pleasing. He does sometimes repeat other people to process information. I do think he would be more prone to stimming when he's more dragon than humanoid.

Lilia - Obviously uses music to regulate, bc he did it for Floyd, but he also uses his turning upside down and feeling all the blood rush to his head as a method of getting his brain out of a bad spot. Lilia does also have a chew necklace that he uses now and then, but other than that, he rarely gets overstimulated or needs a distraction. He just likes chewing sldjfhslkjdf he does help Sebek and Silver self regulate though

Silver - He doesn't stim a whole lot, but when he was younger he used to have a lot of nightmares. Usually Lilia would help him through it with breathing exercises, but if he was too panicked to focus on that he would get a few pieces of ice and wrap it in a cloth towel so as to protect him from it hurting. The cold would distract Silver enough to stop crying as hard, and then both Lilia and Silver would hold an ice cube in their hands until Silver didn't want to anymore and they could practice their breathing. Every now and then, Silver still goes to the freezer at night just to hold ice in both hands until he's calmed himself down from a particularly bad dream or anxiety just eating at him.

Sebek - Refuses to believe he stims. However, he acknowledges the ice trick does help him refocus when he finds that he isn't able to on his own. He doesn't realize he grinds his teeth or that staring at a fan actually helps him calm down. Also Lilia bought him a lava lamp and it also helps stop the overwhelming Feelings he has sometimes.

Others

Che'nya - picks at his skin a lot. He knows it's not good but he can't help it there are Textures There He Doesn't Want but also Feel Funny on his fingers. He tends to self-regulate simply by purring or scratching himself/getting someone else to scratch behind his ears. He also tends to put things in his mouth without much thought behind it. All his pencils have bite marks. He has probably eaten like 30 erasers by this point by accident. He also really likes smells, usually freshly baked bread to help regulate, which is why he sometimes comes to 'invade' Heartslaybul is just to chill in the kitchen while Trey bakes to help him tune out any bad feelings he has. Every once in a while, he'll use catnip to deal with anxiety, but Neige usually intervenes before then and like. Puts on one of those fish videos for cats. Che'nya loves them more than he would like to admit. He also carries a ball of yarn because he likes how soft it is and he can fidget with it when he needs to.

Jack T. - Almost the exact same stims as his little brother, but he masks a lot because he Had To when he was growing up. He's just glad that he was able to provide a space for Ace to be able to express himself the way he needed to.

Najma - She also stims in a fairly subtle way. She usually has a scarf on her that's a soft material that she rubs as a means of regulation, like some sort of silk, she likes the smooth texture. She has 10 hour versions of her favourite song, (whatever it may be) on her playlist. (Jamil does NOT understand this whatsoever, how Najma can stand to listen to something that long does not make sense to him sdlfhlkjsf) She also has a hand cream she carries with her everywhere because she likes the smell of it.

Neige - He has a lot of anxious bouts and PTSD that he can usually mask, but he's almost always rubbing his wrist gently, humming, singing or whistling. He kinda figures if he's always making a noise of some kind, nobody will pick up on what lies underneath. When he does have a full blown panic attack, he has breathing exercises he works through that work for him. He also journals a lot.

Extra

Vizzie - Rubs her wrist where her vambrace ends, tugs at her hair when she's borderline dissociative to help keep her in the present, and when she's really feeling. not great? She eats ice with salt on it. It's the burning sensation that helps her focus on Just That and nothing else. Once Cater introduces her to caffeine as a stimulant it does help with a lot of her ADHD-like tendencies, but listening to music with over the ear headphones helps too. When she doesn't want to. you know. punish herself with salted ice, she just has Ice but she has to let it sit until it's the Right Texture. And you might be like. Hey. This sounds like an amalgamation of A Lot of things from above. Guess what babyyyy most of those stims ^^^ are things I do too. And Vizzie is basically. An AU version of myself. Guess what I was doing that made me wanna write this post? slkdjfhslkjdf that's right doing a shitty job at self regulation but hey, writing it out made me Feel Better WOOOO yeah Later on in the Canon story she ends up being more comfortable showing happy stims. When she's listening to music, she often ends up doing the same thing as Cater with the rhythms of the guitar line being tapped out. (bc I gave him my stim wooo I'm taking it back for her lsdkjfhlksjdf)

Anyways. I'm surprised I finished this in one sitting. Must be the caffeine.

Taglist: (lmk if you wanna hop on)

@fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain

#v talks #twst #twisted wonderland #twst hcs #twst headcanons #twst scenarios #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #cater diamond #deuce spade #ace trappola #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil shoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #che'nya #neige leblanche

[doberbutts]

If I had a nickel for every time I helped a Japanese client at my job, and in helping revealed that I speak [some, limited] Japanese, and in doing so their entire demeanor changed and they began to smile and gesture excitedly as we had a [relatively short] conversation in Japanese, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice.

#anyway if you recognize that the person you're speaking to does not speak English as a first language #and you know the language they do speak fluently #personally I recommend giving it a try to switch to their more comfortable language #it very visibly made their day to encounter someone who could speak Japanese with them #and I think it's nice to give someone the oppurtunity to not be at an inherent disadvantage in a conversation for once #both of these people told me no one here speaks Japanese with them #not even their family #and sometimes it makes them want to go back to Japan and never come back here #how miserable to be stuck somewhere that no one makes an effort to let you articulate in the way you're most comfortabke #but then I have a lifetime of watching that from my dad #who the only people who ever made the effort to communicate with him and his deafness on a level he's most comfortable #are his immediate family #no one else bothers even though they know he's deaf

[ghostboneswrites2]

Silent Night || One Shot

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Request from my old blog: "I was wondering if you could to a little thing of daryl and a female mute reader? If you can, maybe selective mutism, so there can be some trust building themes and things! Just fluff, and two idiots in love"

Summary: You get stuck in a cabin overnight with Daryl. He tries to get to know you. Lots of trust building and cute bonding.

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, sad backstory, TW: child loss, mostly cute

        Daryl lit the fire in the old fireplace, rubbing his hands together and holding them out to soak up the heat. It was dark and rather chilly with the roaring storm outside. It had blown in fast, and the torrential downpour was too much to drive in. With slow squeaky windshield wipers and dim headlights that desperately needed replacing, there was no other option. Daryl pulled over to the first cabin he saw and rushed you inside, leaving the two of you to spend the night in an old dusty cabin that smelled like mildew and aged wood.

        "Should start warmin' up in a bit." He told you, standing up and looking around. He didn't bother waiting for a response, you wouldn't have anything to say. Nobody had ever heard you talk. I mean, sure, people did when yo were younger, before the turn. You weren't deaf like Connie. You thought it was probably just a trauma response. The day you came home to find your fiancé hunched over your two year old daughter, blood pooling on the ground... You could just never bring yourself to speak after that. When you heard your voice, you heard goofy laughs with your baby, sweet talks in bed with your man, phone calls with family and friends. Nowadays there was never anything worth talking about. Every time you tried to speak you were flooded with sweet memories and clouded by the terrible image of your undead lover eating your baby, your world. It was like this large painful lump in your throat had made a home there and prevented any sound from coming out.

        Nobody actually even knew your name. You never told them. They usually just called you Jane, as in Jane Doe. Daryl didn't mind you at all, though. In fact, he was quite fond of you. You were pretty, you could hold your own, and you were also... pretty. So pretty. He couldn't keep his eyes off you some days. He was never sure if you noticed, and you really didn't. That was really only because you tried your best not to look at him. You were helplessly attracted to him, so anything to avoid giving that away, you did.

        "Still got them bars in your bag?" He asked you, referring to the protein bars Carol sent you with. You opened your bag and tossed him one, opening another one for yourself.

        The two of you ate in silence. He tossed you a water bottle from his own bag, and you drank.

        Then, it was just the two of you, left to occupy yourselves. He spent an hour or so sharpening arrows and tweaking bits and pieces on his bow. You mostly just laid on the couch and picked at your nails, or scabs, or stared up at the ceiling, watching the spiders in their webs. 

        His mind was plagued with questions. Every time he was alone with you he found himself wondering the same things. Where were you from? What was your story? Why didn't you speak? What was your name?

        He got frustrated with he lack of answers or anything else to stimulate his mind and distract him. He sighed and pushed himself back and forth in the old dingy rocking chair.

        "Need to find you a notepad or somethin' like Connie has." He spoke.

        You looked over at him.

        "Just sayin', silence is deafening, y'know?"

        You just looked back up at the ceiling.

        "What about.. Okay." He sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees. You looked back at him. "What if I asked you... yes or no questions. You can just nod or shake your head." He sounded hopeful and bored. You almost wanted to laugh at his eagerness, like a little kid trying to get his grandpa to tell him stories from the war.

        You didn't answer, because, of course not, but you just watched him curiously, not giving any indication of refusal.

        "Alright. Do you like fishing?"

        You furrowed your eyebrows. 

        "Right. You don't fish." He nodded. "Stupid question. What about.. Okay. Have you ever talked?"

        You gave a single nod after a moment of deciding if you want to tell him that or not.

        "Do you know why you stopped?"

        The question was like a dagger in your chest. You decided you didn't wanna play anymore. You just sighed and turned your attention back to the ceiling. 

        He didn't press further. He just stood up and started to wander, checking all the cabinets in the kitchen for anything useful. He found one thing, a can of Spam. 

        "You like Spam?" He asked, walking back into the living room. You glanced over at him and shook your head. You weren't hungry. He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He said as he dug into the canned meat.

        "Y'know, I had a friend. Her name was Beth. She died, and uh, I didn't talk much after that. It was hard to. Like my throat got all tight every time I tried." He said. "It took a while, but I got through it."

        You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to relate, hoping you'd open up some. You wished it was that easy, you really did. It was miserable having all these thoughts, needs, desires, and no way to express them.

        You knew you could speak, if you really wanted to. The problem was that you had never wanted to work hard enough to get past the lump.

        "You, uh, you're really no fun at sleepovers. Y'know that?"

        Silence. He waited a while. He wondered if he could make you laugh. He couldn't recall ever seeing you give more than a smile. He remembered the story he told Andrea all those years ago, and how it made her laugh.

        "Y'know, this one time when I was a kid. I got lost in the woods. I'm talkin' days, right. So, I gotta use the bathroom at some point. I wiped with leaves, cause I didn't have toilet paper or nothin', and turned out, it was poison ivy. I made it home eventually. Ass itched somethin' serious. I'm talkin' pullin' my underwear 'til the wedgie was so bad it gave me rug burn. Tried everything. Even took a fork outta the kitchen  and tried that. Nothin' helped."

        You were watching him now, grinning. A fork? Really? You wanted to ask if he threw it away or left it to get washed and used. He admired your smile for some time, before it faded. At least he got that.

        "My brother was in juvie back then. Dad wasn't around either. Did I ever tell ya about the time Merle got crabs?"

        You shook your head,

        "Well, he came home one night from the bar. Passed out. Next day he couldn't stop itchin'. Come to find out, there were little bugs crawlin' around in his pubes."

        You frowned in disgust.

        "Anyways, tried to tell the dumb son of a bitch to just shave 'em off, but he didn't wanna so I had to ride with him to the free clinic to get some kinda dick shampoo. Turns out he slept with the same girl like three more times. Kept goin' back to her 'til the shampoo ran out. Guess he figured it didn't matter if he could keep washin' 'em out."

        You looked mortified.

        "Yeah, guess that wasn't funny." He agreed. "He was a nasty son of a bitch."

        You raised your eyebrows and nodded in agreement.

        "I see you hang around Connie a lot. She ever teach you any sign language?"

        You shook your head.

        "I got a book back home if ya want it."

        You shrugged. Could be nice to communicate again.

        "Looks like ya need new shoes." He commented, nodding to your feet propped up on the arm of the couch. The rubber soles were starting to detach from the shoe itself. You nodded. "Wanna stop somewhere and look?"

        You thought for a moment, nodding and shrugging at the same time, as if to say, 'Why not?'

        He sat back down in the rocking chair and rested his head back. He wasn't tired really. It wasn't even that late. The rain just made it seem darker than it was. He listened to the crackling fire and the windy storm outside, the occasional thunder booming around.

        He looked down at you. You seemed just as restless.

        "Wish I knew more about ya." He admitted.

        Usually he wouldn't be so forward with a pretty girl, but your constant silence made him feel like he was just talking to himself. He didn't have to worry about your reaction, though he often wondered what you thought of him.

        You looked at him again, curiously.

        You glanced around the room for anything you could use to tell him something about you. It could be like a game of charades.

        You noticed a map on the wall and walked over to it, pulling the large frame off the nail and walking over to him. You placed your finger on your home state to show him.

        "That's where you're from?"

        You nodded, a small, sad smile on your lips.

        "I'm from Georgia." He said. You gave an acknowledging nod.

        "Ever been to any other states?"

        You dragged your finger from your home state to  Virginia, showing him you had only been through the states that led you to wind up as one of the Saviors. Of course, you weren't one of Negan's fighters, you were just a maid on the cleanup crew. He had actually seen you a few times during his captivity at The Sanctuary. You almost looked as miserable as him.

        "Mm." He nodded with understanding.

        You set the map on the coffee table and walked around the room, looking for anything else to use as a clue. Your eye caught on a little pink bow, the kind with an elastic band that would go around a baby's head. You picked it up, eyes watering as you ran your fingers over it. You turned back to him and walked back to where he sat, holding it out to show him.

        "Ya like pink?" He asked, not quite understanding. You shook your head, trying to think of a better way to explain. Then you remembered the horizontal scar over your lower abdomen. You had your daughter via C-section.

        You lifted your shirt and pulled the waist of your jeans down slightly to expose the scar. You held the bow up again, then pointed at the scar.

        "Oh." He said lowly. "You had a daughter?"

        You nodded, still teary eyed. You took the bow to your bag, concealing it in one of the zipper pockets. You had run out of the house horrified on that awful day. You had no time to grab a memento for her, so that bow would have to serve as one.

        "I'm sorry." He told you. You just nodded in place of a thanks, wiping the tears away. You continued your search around the little cabin for clues. It was kind of fun, albeit painful. It was like a game.

        You took a little longer this time on your search, until you found a phone book. You took it and flipped open a page and walked back to him. This time he was standing up. 

        You held the book open so that he could see it, and pointed to two individual digits.

        "That's how old you are?"

        You nodded.

        "Is your name in there?"

        You shrugged and set the book down, reasoning that it'd be too much work to find it in all those pages.

        "So, you're (age), you had a daughter, and you're from (state)?"

        You nodded and smiled. This was the most you had communicated with anyone in years. It was nice.

        "Cool." He nodded with a small half smile. "You hungry?"

        You shook your head no.

        "Thirsty?"

        You waved your hand to say kind of.

        "I found some tequila in the kitchen."

        You raised your eyebrows. Now that was temptation if you ever saw it. Tequila was a luxury you hadn't come across in, well, you didn't even know how long. You nodded giddily and he huffed a silent chuckle, shaking his head as he walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of clear, liquid joy. You rushed over and grabbed it from him, twisting off the cap and taking a swig. You made a dramatic face as you shook your head. God, you didn't remember the burn being that bad.

        "Easy, tiger." He teased as he took the bottle and had some for himself.

        You smiled at him as he handed it back, the two of you taking turns until you felt that alcoholic heat in your ears and cheeks.

        "You like tequila?"

        You shurgged.

        "Just like drinkin'?"

        You nodded.

        "Good to know. If we don't finish this off we can bring it back for ya."

        You nodded and grinned. It was cute how happy you got over a simple drink, but he guessed with so little means of communication, anything was nice to take the edge off. He wondered if you felt lonely, like he often did. His was from a place of feeling misunderstood, though. Maybe it wasn't so different than being mute.

        "Is it hard?" He asked, taking a seat in the rocking chair as you sat on the coffee table just a foot away.

        You tilted your head inquisitively.

        "I mean, not bein' able to talk to nobody." He clarified.

        You nodded truthfully, looking down at the floor as you grabbed the bottle from him. 

        "Do ya remember what your voice sounds like?"

        You thought for a moment. Of course you did, that was what made it so hard. Your voice was linked to memories that you couldn't bare.

        You nodded.

        "Maybe I'll hear it one day."

        You smiled sweetly before you took a swig and passed the bottle back, nodding. Maybe he would.

        "Something on the bottle caught your eye, a little sticker stuck to the bottom. You reached over and peeled it off as he tipped it back to take a drink. It was a simple yellow smiley face. You smirked and waited for him to put the bottle down before you reached over and stuck it to his nose.

        "The hell?" He grumbled, peeling it off and looking down at it. You couldn't help the silent giggle, your shoulders rising and falling as you scrunched your nose. The little sticker just contrasted his dark, serious exterior too well.

        He noticed your silent laugh and stuck it back to his nose, smiling a little at your amusement. You reached for the bottle and had some more before you passed it back.

        "Y'think that's funny, huh?"

        You nodded, still grinning. He swished the drink around in his hand, staring at it thoughtfully. He had learned more about you in a couple of hours than anyone probably had in the years you'd been around. Still, it wasn't enough. He was greedy and he wanted more.

        He glanced around the room, the fire growing smaller making it fairly dim. He noticed a little banjo off in the corner near the couch.

        "Ya like music?"

        You nodded.

        "Rick, too. Always playin' the worst CDs he can find. Makes my ears bleed." He complained. "What about like.. drawin' or anything. Got any hobbies?"

        You shrugged. Before, you mostly just liked being a mom and watching your favorite shows. Now, you really only worked to survive, so what hobbies were there really?

        "What about church? You like that kinda thing?"

        You shook your head.

        "Yeah me neither. Never believed in it much."

        You nodded in agreement.

        "My mom did, though. Liked to read the bible. She died. When I was a kid."

        You placed a hand on his knee, letting him know you empathized.

        "Yeah. Dad was a real ass, too. Merle was all I had and he wasn't around all that much."

        You gave a sad, thin smile.

        "What about you? You had both parents?"

        You nodded.

        "Brothers? Sisters?"

        You shook your head. You were an only child.

        "Consider yourself lucky." He joked. You nodded. "Pets? Did ya have any?"

        You nodded.

        "Cat?" 

        You shook your head.

        "Dog?"

        You held up the number two with your fingers.

        "Always wanted a dog."

        You smiled. You loved your dogs.

        "Ya miss 'em? The dogs."

        You nodded.

        He yawned.

        "Ya tired yet or ya wanna keep goin'?"

        You shrugged.

        He passed you the bottle and stood up, ruffling your hair a little. You swatted his hand playfully and took a drink.

        "Gon' make sure the doors are sealed up tight." He announced, walking off to find the back door and reinforce it.

        You stood off the coffee table, the hard surface making your butt sore. You stretched and walked back to the couch. When he came back he asked, "You sleepin' there?"

        You nodded. You would offer it to him, but last time you guys had to share a sleep space he hogged the bed and snored as loud as humanly possible, so this time you were doing him no favors. He laid out some blankets he found, making a nice palette on the floor to lay on. You set the bottle on the coffee table, feeling pretty tipsy by now, and relaxed on the couch the way you had before. He laid down on his back, propping his bag under his head for comfort.

        It was silent for a while, just the two of you enjoying the sounds of rain and the flames that were slowly dying down.

        "Thanks." He spoke up. You peeked down at him from the couch. He was mostly obscured by the coffee table but you could see half of his face.  "For tellin' me all that."

        You just smiled to yourself as you turned on your side, facing away from him and curling up into the ball you usually slept in. A few minutes went by. Just  as his eyes got heavy, he heard it.

        "(Y/N)." You said. "That's my name."

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl twd

[tomieafterdark]

hate fucking with Eren drabble..18+

want more? I got you<3 here’s my masterlist

pairing: Eren x fem!reader

cw: hate fucking, sex through the prison bars from that one season 4 scene, no prep but reader is wet enough by just seeing Erens drastic glow up, vaginal sex, ass slapping, choking, hair pulling.

a/n: I haven’t watched season 4 properly and that includes this scene so if something is missing you know why😭 anyways enjoy this drabble, I am having a writers block kinda so I am stuck on my requests and longer fics rip.

Hange just came back up from asking Eren some questions, it seems she didn’t have much of a breakthrough though.

“He kept babbling on about fighting…” she said and sat down with the others. She looks disappointed as she continues explaining what else had happened.

You wanted to go down and check on Eren knowing damn well Eren despises you. Ever since you first met, you’ve had this weird energy of constantly competing or tearing each other down. Deep down inside maybe you were just looking for a way to let out your pent up anger and sadness, to tease Eren or full on argue with him. You just needed an outlet for your feelings…

As you get closer to his cell, he is still mumbling to himself about fighting. What a weirdo. And he is shirtless with a freaking manbun, you take a minute to stare at him not knowing he is aware, his body looks like it was carved by the gods themselves. As much as you despised Eren, you couldn’t help but admit he was so attractive right now, he has changed a lot.

“How long are you going to stand there and not talk, you know I am not deaf. I heard you walk down.” He says, his voice is husky and sends chills down your spine. You hadn’t seen Eren for a while, last time you saw him he was annoying and whiny and just cried a lot…this time he is different. You bite your bottom lip. His face was hotter too, that hairstyle looks like it was invented just for him.

“Whatever.” You say in a bratty tone, and walk closer to him.

He doesn’t care, he is just sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looks annoyed, as if he was doing something important earlier and had been interrupted.

You start to bother him on purpose, hoping for a reply. He must be equally desperate to let out his pent up emotions because he argues back. Suddenly you and Eren are full on arguing about god knows what because it doesn’t make sense to anyone but you two. It goes from petty things to you bursting into tears, asking Eren why he has changed so much and why he is hurting everyone he once cared about. Eren doesn’t take kindly to that last part, you don’t know it but you hit a sore spot inside of him.

He grabs you by the collar of your shirt through the bars, eyes full of hatred and rage with a hint of pain and regret if you look deeper. You don’t stop there, you’re so angry and upset you end up bringing his mom into it, and then the real hell breaks loose.

He yells at you to leave her out of it, you scream back about everything that’s wrong with his behaviour and plans and how she would never approve of this. You’re trying to reach the little humanity he had left in him but it’s not working, the tension between you becomes weirdly sexual at some point. He can’t deny the tension and neither can you, he may have neglected his humanity but that doesn’t mean it’s not there deep within him, screaming to be let out, to express its feelings. The very feelings he has been pushing down to work toward his goal, pushing everything else aside. With you being here, and the sexual tension already between you the grief and pain chooses to express itself sexually.

He turns you around, with little care for how it affects you or if it hurt. He is rough with you, even though there’s literal bars between you he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls you in close, you can feel his breath on your neck. You giggle in response to Eren’s rough manhandling. “Geez, I didn’t know you had this side to you. Last time we argued it just ended with you crying like a bitch!” You laugh.

He slaps your face really hard in return, causing you to moan a little. Something about his cold broken energy just made you so attracted to him, and the carelessness and manhandling only made you more weak in the legs. You had not planned for this sexual tension to arise with Eren. Sure, all your arguing earlier helped you release the anger you were wanting to express but the sexual side of you needed release too and Eren’s glow up alone had awakened it. You hadn’t had sex in so long, too much work and too little time for anything else left you neglecting your sexual needs a lot.

You arch your back and push your ass up against Eren, to your surprise you’re met with some hardness. “Arguing makes you hard? You really are a mess Eren Yeager” you say to him in a snarky tone and laugh.

“Shut the fuck up, aren’t you the one pushing your ass all up against me like a bitch in heat?” He says in a husky voice that sends shivers down your spine. You almost accidentally moan yes daddy in reply, this new Eren has your mind racing. You just smirk back at him. “I’ll fuck this sly smirk off your face bitch, when I’m done with your ass you’ll be crying begging me to stop.”

“Ooh I’m so scared. Face it Eren, you couldn’t last a minute.” You brag, hoping to get a rise out of him and get manhandled even more. Oh how you wish those stupid bars weren’t between you, so Eren could have his way with you.

He chokes you in return and pulls your pants and panties down, you’re so wet just from this alone. It’s good you are wet because Eren was so pissed off he would’ve bottomed out in you wether you were wet or not. Your eyes roll back as you’re gasping for air, he is choking a bit too hard. He gets closer to your ear as he continues choking and whispers “spread your legs more bitch.”

You’re so dizzy from being choked you accidentally reply back “yes daddy” out loud instead of in your head and spread them causing Eren to chuckle, he low-key likes it and even more when you said it in the state you were in. He shoves his entire length into you, it’s so big it hurts causing you to wake up from your dizzy state. He knows you’re struggling to take it, from the way your body tensed up to the way you’re almost pushing him out is telling but he keeps pushing it in making you take it all. Your moaning is starting to get a bit to loud, which has him hiss “quiet you whore. Do you really want them to find you like this? All wrapped up around my cock moaning like a slut?” He lets go of your throat and puts it over your mouth, your muffled moans are still loud but it’s better than before. He keeps thrusting at a merciless speed, your body finally stopped resisting his sheer force and you’re taking him. Limp legged, barely able to stand up and he just keeps going, you can feel it reach all the way up in your stomach. He grabs your hand and makes you feel it. “Feel it slut, that’s me re-arranging your tiny little guts.” You cry out in return, it’s making you lose it, it’s just too much. You just want to collapse here and now, but Eren pushes your hand down on the bulge his cock is making on your pretty stomach. Your reaction is gold to him. “What was it about me not lasting huh y/n?” He snarks and starts slapping your ass, not once or twice but so many times your cheeks turn red.

You squirt all over Eren’s cock, orgasming so hard your cunt is once again trying to push him out. Eren just buries himself deeper inside you, feeling every small movement your cunt makes in hopes of pushing him out. Your breathing is getting faster, with legs shaking. “Please Eren, pull out for a second it’s too much” you cry out with tears running down your pretty cheeks.

“Shut the fuck up and take this dick” is all he says and starts fucking you deeper. He puts you on all four, positioning you into a mean painful arch even though there’s bars between you. He somehow reaches deeper into you with the position you’re in and you’re leaking all over the cold cement floor from your eyes and cunt. Eren is brutal, you had enough ages ago but he keeps going. You are so overstimulated you try to crawl away but you’re met with more brutal manhandling, he pulls on your ponytail keeping you in place. “What’s wrong y/n? You can’t last longer?” He mocks.

You end up getting your absolute brains fucked out by Eren, at the same brutal pace for what feels like hours. When he is done, you’re a mess. He didn’t stop until your cunt was overstimulated, bruised and gaping. You hear the others come down to check on Eren, you quickly put your clothes on. You’re struggling to stand as they come over, you’re just standing against the wall with your legs threatening to collapse any minute.

thanks for reading I didn’t proof read so sorry for mistakes 😵‍💫

© 2023 succubisblog | All rights reserved

#eren smut #eren x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #Eren Yeager smut #aot smut #attack on titan smut #Eren jeager smut #eren aot

[lovifie]

Her Royal Highness Pt.5

Masterlist

Prologue — Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5

The people of the city turn out to be delighted, elated to be visited by the Princess. And you feel glad because they don't look at you with the fear the guard had, they look at you with happiness in their eyes, joyful the Princess finally left the castle.

They are so happy, that they don't seem to notice the mysterious men that follow you. Not literally, they remained on a table inside the inn, but you can feel their eyes on you at all times. 

It is a nice thing they do, because after a while you start to feel dizzy. People keep pulling you in different directions, wanting to show you places and introduce you to people. You can see the guard from the journey, and he looks ready to pull his hair out every time someone grabs your hand, afraid that you are going to suddenly turn into a tyrant like your late father. 

You won't, of course. Getting a taste of what a kingdom that likes you feels like, you don't want to experience the opposite. At some point, the guard loses his patience and peels your hand away from the people, guiding you to the table where everyone else is eating.

“Ooh, the Princess finally resigned herself to sit with us. Such an honour, your Royal Highness.” Gaz exclaims, standing up just to do a dramatic reverence, with Soap doing exactly the same.

“Sit down, you muppets.” The king orders next to you with a teasing note in his voice. So he can be nice. That's how he sounds when normal. 

“Yes, my dear King” Soap says, doing a second reference before sitting down. Price snickers beside you at Soap's antics, if only you could get on his good side like that. 

Around the rectangular table, you are sitting beside the king on one side, with Gaz, Soap and Ghost sitting on the opposite. Ghost and you are the ones sitting the more far away from each other, which is why it surprises you to see him staring at you.

You maintain eye contact, not wanting to back down first, and surprisingly it's him who does. But only to look at your hand, his eyebrows raise, remembering something. You look at him curious as he gets his hand inside his pocket and pulls something that slides across the table in your direction. 

Five heads look at the object, and soon realize what he throws at you.

A ring. 

A simple small gold band.

For a second, you think that it is just a weird gift from the Prince; a peace offering. But when you look at him, he looks at you expectantly as if waiting for you to answer and it clicks. 

Your soon-to-be husband, is proposing to you.

“That's it?” You ask picking it up to check it better, disappointment clear in your voice. 

“We're you expecting rubies?” He laughs. “I thought you were more humble than that, princess “

“It's not about the ring…” You say looking at it. “I thought you would at least ask me, indulge me a bit and trick me into thinking I had a choice, you know.” 

“If you were expecting me to kneel, you may be more stupid than we thought.” He chuckles drily.

You ignore him, the insult falling on deaf ears at this point and focus on the ring. Just looking at it you know it's not going to be your size, and when you try to get your finger in it, it is so much bigger it could fit two of yours. You realise then, that they didn't even bother to find an actual ring, and just used one they had themselves. 

“It doesn't fit.” You comment, still looking at your hand.

“Close your fist then.” Ghost answers. “Better not lose it.” 

You should hit him. Shove the ring down his throat until he chokes. But you don't, instead, you stand up, ring in hand, and walk up to the room they lend you without saying anything else. 

Some of the maids quickly follow you as you walk upstairs into the room. Your luggage is already there, and you take out the nightgown even though the sun is still out. But your chances are going down to the king and putting up with their passive-aggressive remarks or going out and getting hurt or kidnapped by people's kindness. 

You are far from being used to dealing with this many people on a daily basis, so the silence of the room when you get out of the bathtub makes you want to go to sleep. 

So you step into the room, looking at the ground and closing the door behind you. When you look up to your bed, the bed looks back at you. Well, not the bed, but Simon.

You gasp when you see the behemoth of a man, laying down on his back on your bed without his mask and cape. In his hands, he is playing with a garment you can figure out at first. 

Until he smirks at you, and then you realize is the undergarments you were wearing today. “Simon!” You exclaim, completely scandalized by the violation of your privacy. “That's not yours!” 

The fact that he entered your room while you were bathing becomes a second offence, and you walk up to him ready to take it back. Except it looks like that was exactly his plan because when you extend your hand to try and grab it, he grabs your wrist pulling you on top of him.

You shriek out of the surprise, in part surprised by his strength; able to hold you up by the hand on your wrist and in part, surprised by his lack of decorum. He is so close you can feel the heat radiating from his skin, he is looking up at you with such a condescending look but it is the eye contact of his golden brown eyes that keeps you in a trance. 

Trance, that gets suddenly broken by a sharp pain in your ass when Simon slaps your ass. You slowly look back at him and slap him back on his chest. “You did not fucking do that!” You exclaim, and he raises his eyebrows. “Princess!” He says covering his mouth with his free hand. “Language!”

You manage to get your hand free and get back on your feet. You point to the door and say: “Get out!”

He barks a laugh sitting up at the edge of the bed, and at a surprisingly fast speed, he hugs your waist pulling you tight against him again. You manage to get your hands on his shoulder, pulling some distance between him and you.

“But I need to check your wound, Princess.” He says looking up through his eyelashes. “The wound is amazing, Simon. You can leave.” You answer, still trying to pull back.

One of his hands moves up to your waist, and with his thumb and index, he presses over your wound, hard, drawing little droplets of blood and making you wince. “That does sound amazing, but I don't think your wound is.” He says pulling his finger back and licking the blood of his thump while looking at you. You can feel the heat in your ears, an obvious sign of your flush, completely uncalled for. 

You're supposed to get warm with gentle touches, grazing hands and kisses on the cheek. Not by this brute, personification of strength, licking your blood.

“Let me see it, Princess.” He says sternly looking at you. You feel trapped, like in a cage… a really warm cage. So you start to pull the gown up, and you can feel Simon's eyes drag up the newly exposed skin, you are not wearing anything under the nightgown and he notices his eyes widening slightly. One of your hands remains between your legs, making sure only the outside of your leg is exposed as the other rises the gown up to right below your boob where the wound is. 

Simon sets his hand on your knee engulfing it, and apparently, he needs to move his hand up your tights, your hips and up to under your boob just to check the wound. He touches the wound, moving his thumb across it and his fingernail grazes your underboob causing you goosebumps. You turn your head, unable to keep looking at his face, letting a sight escape your lips trying to play it out as a sight of annoyance. 

“You were right, it looks good.” He murmurs, when you feel his breath against your skin you whip your head back to look at him, just to see him lick a strip right under the wound, causing a whine out of you at the heat of his tongue. 

You slap his shoulder this time, taking a step back and putting the nightgown down. “Why did you do that? You are gonna get it infected!” He simply laughs at your face and adds: “Sorry, Princess, I just wanted a taste. It was too tempting.”

“You are a really weird man, Simon Price!” You exclaim, moving back until your back hits the wall, putting as much space as possible between him and you. 

He looks at you confused, before standing up and walking up to you. “Why do you say that, Princess?” He asks, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm?”

“One second you do these… things. Next second you don't even look at me and treat me like trash.” You say looking at the floor. 

He chuckles, cupping your face making you look up to him. “Is this because I told you I wouldn't kneel? Now, Princess. I already gave you the ring, why else do you want me to kneel for you, hm?” He asks getting his face close to yours, for a second you panic he would kiss you, but just before reaching it, he moves to your ear and whispers: “Naughty, girl.”

Putting his hands on your hips, he turns you around leaving you staring at the wall. “Better to check the exit too.” He murmurs against your neck. “Do it quick, and leave.” You order, trying to remain calm.

Instead, he takes his time. Crouching down, knee almost touching his ground, and he grabs the hem of the gown, and slowly, really slowly, as if time has stopped and therefore he had all the time in the world, he starts to raise it, with his fingertip gracing the skin of your leg, fingernail scratching just at the verge of pain. 

Goosebumps spread as he rises, up your calf, up your thigh, up your arse, which he touches with no remorse, and up your back. With one hand, he holds the gown up, and with the other, he caresses your hip. 

You don't feel his eyes on your wound, you feel them lower. And if you have the courage, you would confront him; but coming face to face and he proudly admitting, because he would, that yes, in fact, he was staring at your arse, it's not something you could bear without blushing and therefore feeding his ego. 

“How is it?” You ask, growing impatient with his lack of sounds.

“Amazing, indeed.” He answers immediately, and you know he is not talking about the wound, but that'll do for now. So you take a step to the side, getting out of his hold and let the gown back down, covering your body.

“Great, then you can leave.” You say, crossing your arms unable to look at him. 

“But why? I'm enjoying myself in here, Princess.” He says chuckling at you. 

“Precisely!” You exclaim and grab his wrist, him obviously letting you drag him. You open the door, ready to throw him out when you come to face with Gaz who looks ready to knock at the door. He looks between Simon and you, before gasping loudly.

“Premarital encounters?!” He asks smiling widely, and making you roll your eyes, pushing Simon out of the room and slamming the door. Hearing the two men laugh loudly on the other side.

The next morning, a quick breakfast is eaten. The ring is not on your finger, too big to be comfortable to wear; instead, it is hanging from your neck with a threat. It rests on the center of your chest, so everyone can see it. 

“Princess, I had an idea last night.” The king breaks the silence. “Once we are back at the kingdom, how about we arrange a joust? To welcome everyone that will help arrange the wedding. I'll help everyone to cheer up a bit.” He asks, looking at you.

“A joust?” You ask a bit surprised by the offer. There is still a sour taste on your tongue, it is only for the wedding, so people like him more. But again, he is asking you. Not for your consent, he would do it anyway. But to make you feel like you are actually heard. His voice saying “We are more powerful together than against each other” comes to mind, and you decide to play along: “Sure, that sounds fun.” 

Hii! 💗

Sorry for taking so long to update this series, the Lift me off my feet completely took me away. Thank you so much for being so patient with me ❤️❤️❤️

TagList: @kristalhi @strawberrygato @ghostlythots @dumybitch @infpt-zylith @jupiternighties @cassiecasluciluce @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tired-writer04 @evolutionarry @whos-fran @darkangel4121 @thevoidwriting

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod #task force 141 #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #task force 141 x reader #141 x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #medieval #medieval au #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #cod fic

[almostwisegalaxy]

the choice that breaks us

Cha hyun su x reader

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That afternoon, hyun su went out to get supplies and also to visit Ah-yi. As he left, he promised his beloved that he would return safely. All was well in his absence. Well, as well as could be expected in a post-apocalyptic world.

Yes, everything was fine. But one thing was bothering y/n. For some time she had suspected she was pregnant. She wasn't sure of anything. Maybe her hormones were playing tricks on her after a thousand and one monster attacks. Yes, that must be it. SHE COULDN'T BE PREGNANT. Of course she couldn't be.

How could she raise a child in this totally ravaged world. She thanked God every sunrise that she, hyun su, Ah-yi and yi-kyeong were still wanted. They were all she had left after all.

But just affirming that she couldn't be didn't reassure her.

Delulu IS not a solulu

Even though she'd made a promise to hyun su to stay inside and be safe. And took a map and her bag to the nearest pharmacy two blocks away. What could possibly happen to her? Death? Who knows.

"Just go, everything will be fine. You'll get your pregnancy test, find out you're not pregnant and hyun su won't find out".

On the way, she makes sure there's no monster. When she could barely see their little house, the muscle monster appeared in front of her. He grabbed her by the feet, dangling her in the air ready to devour her. She had the reflex to pull out her knife from....... je ne sais où and slice off his body-built hand. She landed flat on her stomach, bleeding and confused. Her vision was foggy, in her ears she could only hear white noise. There she lay, agonizing on the grass, looking around hoping to regain her sight.

She needed only a moment to formulate a plan. She revealed herself, running with all her being towards the nearby cliff with Musculor behind her. Just as she needed to jump, she veered to her left as quickly as possible. The monster, too slow on the trigger, falls off the cliff.

"Proteins. !!!!!" He continues to shout despite his fall.

She stands up in pain. No time to rest, she has to get home before hyun su. Resuming her walk towards the pharmacy, she didn't notice hyun su who had witnessed the scene. He had tried to help her with the monster, but he was too far away. He had shouted her name several times, begging her to come back home. But not a reaction from her. For her it was just a blur, but for him it was something else. He'd seen her looking at him, and she'd seen him clearly, but she'd just chosen to ignore his pleas, his tears and him. He was hurt.He was wounded. Why she rejects him. He ends up alone with his monster, who keeps telling him he's unworthy of love and that she hates him.

She returned home that evening without any further complications. She was prepared to see a possibly distraught Hyun Su when she got home, but she explained everything to him. Instead, she found her rooms in disarray, not her beloved. She panics and thinks that something has happened to him. She runs around looking for him.

She finds him after Ah-yi pushes Eun-yoo into the ditch and Hyun su saves her.

"Did you think I was going to give you a reunion hug? "He said.

"Yes, I hoped so." This time it was Eun-yoo who spoke.

She tries to approach him, but he stops her with the acid from his claws, once and then again before she stops.

He withdrew his claws. Finally he saw me, but he had a strange reaction. His eyes stared at me, he began to tremble, and his eyes filled with tears.

I tried to approach him gently, but like second nature, his claws stopped in front of my eyes.

"Don't you dare come near me," he said, shaking.

"Hyun Su-"

"Are you deaf? I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM ME."

He finds himself taking Ah-yi's hand and off they go. Ah-yi is confused as to why two of the people he cares about are suddenly fighting.

Y/n returns home upset. Why did he react so aggressively? It doesn't fit.

The next morning, Y/n goes to the hospital where she heard human voices, hoping to find Hynsu.

At the entrance I meet Ah-yi, who stops me.

"Eonni! "She says and runs into my arms.

"Hey, angel. Are you okay?"

"Yes. Nuna, have you been crying? Is it because Oppa yelled at you yesterday?"

"Don't worry about it, as soon as I sort him out we'll come and visit you and your mom, okay?" I said between two kisses.

If only she knew

"Come on, back to the boat."

I continued my search for Hyun Su but ran into Eun-yoo who blocked my way.

"Don't you understand that he doesn't want you anymore?"

"Eun-yoo, get out of my way.

"No, I won't. Leave him alone for once. Always following him around like a dog, you're getting pathetic."

"You criticize my life as if yours is a good example.

"Leave him the hell alone"

"I have found the most amazing, beautiful, kind, sweet boy who makes me smile every time I see him. He makes me feel like I'm special, beautiful, worth so much, and he makes me feel loved more than ever.

And you want me to leave him with you? "

I say my last word and leave him alone in his corner.

I finally find him sitting on a bed. Just breathe, everything will be fine.

I enter the room and walk over to him. He looks at me. His eyes are not the same. He holds out his hand, and I take it hesitantly. Somehow I end up in his lap and he begins to hug me.

"Hmmm. I've always wanted to do this, but that idiot always refused".

I stand up and elicit a disappointed sigh from him.

"I want to talk to MY hyun Hyun Su."

"Are you sure? I won't be able to do anything if he takes control again.

"Yes, bring him in."

His eyes returned to normal and he turned away from me.

"What are you doing here? Haven't you hurt me enough?"

"I assure you that was not my intention, I just wanted to..."

"Just what? Get away from me? Leave me? Do you hate me so much that you'd run away in my absence? You could have at least told me to my face," he said, tears streaming from his eyes.

"No, it's not that I-"

"YOU WHAT? A MONSTER CAN HAVE FEELINGS TOO, YOU KNOW...YOUR DECISIONS HAVE REPERCUSSIONS ON THOSE AROUND YOU. I CAN'T STAND THAT YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ME OR OUR RELATIONSHIP."

"You think I don't care? I took this risk for us."

"For us? Ah, that's a good one. Don't lie to me," he got a few things in his face, looking closer he saw a positive pregnancy test.

"If you'd at least let me finish. That's why I left yesterday. I had to be sure before I told you. "She said angrily and crying.

Meanwhile, Hyun Su's eyes shifted from her to the object in his hands. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Yes, I took a risk yesterday and I'm sorry I worried you, but-"

"It's okay. I apologize for upsetting you like that. It's okay," he cradles her in his arms as she breaks down crying on top of him.

He lifts her chin with two fingers and kisses her passionately. A kiss of reconciliation, soft, slow and full of emotion. After a moment, they separated and looked at each other.

"Can you forgive me? I got carried away. I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who should say it, I left without telling you".

"Hey, it's okay now, let's forget about it. We don't have anything else to do now. We have to prepare for the arrival of our child."He pulled her towards the bed.

"Now come here, you must be tired after so many emotions."

They lay down, still kissing each other so lovingly

Yes eun-yoo was forgotten. AGAIN

#sweet home x reader #cha hyun su x reader #cha hyun su #sweet home #sweet home 2 x reader #sweet home 2 #sweet home fic #sweet home scenario #sweet home imagines #sweet home season 2

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Skin-Deep Chapter 2.5: Horanghae (ft our all time fav tiger!)

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: thanks for so much attention on the previous two chapters ❤️, I'm uploading earlier (it's relatively early where i'm at, i uploaded the last two around midnight here so it's early for me to upload this if you are talking relatively) today cause this is a short part (BUT IMPORTANT) part of the story, and a longer one will follow tonight.

“OH MY GOSH, we should totally try this place!” Soonyoung screamed said. 

You were working behind the counter at a coffee shop nearby your place. Soonyoung chose to come here in between classes to keep you company. He sat by the counter, scrolling though Tiktok. 

“Hosh, most of the places you choose suck.” You deadpan, wiping the counter. “Also I’ve got to hold off on going out for awhile, my salary hasn’t come in yet.” 

Soonyoung didn’t look up from his phone, he hummed in acknowledgement. 

He would never let you pay. Every time you went out for desserts or a day of cafe hopping, he would always pay for whatever you two ordered, even if it wasn’t to share. The few times you had managed to foot the bill, he had started sulking and you had never seen such a disapproving look on his face. Some days he would refuse to let you out of his car unless you promised to leave your wallet in the car. He felt bad dragging you to all these places, so he always insisted on paying. He didn’t care whether you were rich or poor, you were a good person. Good people deserve happiness. Desserts are obviously the best form of happiness. 

He knew money wasn’t the problem when you two were out, so your excuse probably meant something else. He wasn’t deaf or stupid, he knew about the things people said about you. He also knew you didn’t want to talk about it. He’d brought it up once and you shut him down immediately. 

“This place has TIGER SHAPED CAKES!” 

You sigh. Clearly anything you said just flew out the window. 

Just as you were about to refute Soonyoung’s excitement over tiger-esque objects, a group of girls came into the cafe. You pasted your customer service smile on as they approached the cashier. 

“See, I told you she works here.” 

“Fucking Gold digger.”

“Hey, what can I get for you?” You say, ignoring their comments. 

One of the girls approached you, “An iced latte.” 

“Sure, cash or car-,” before you could finish, she threw a 50 dollar bill at you. 

“Keep the change,  take it as payment to stop bothering people out of your tax bracket.” She smiled cruelly before going to join her friends in a booth.

You sigh, and picked up the money from the floor. As you moved to work on her latte, you realise Soonyoung had disappeared from his previous position on the counter. Your head shot up when you heard a high pitch shriek. 

“WHAT THE HELL?” 

The same girl who ordered the latte was currently dripping from head to toe in Soonyoung’s iced americano. He held the cup over her head with a wide grin, making sure every last drop was on her.

“Soonyoung, you can’t do that again.” You said, frustrated as you were mopping the floor. 

“But-“

“No buts! You can’t do that again.” 

“Y/N, you can’t expect me to just sit there and watch them treat you that way.” Soonyoung sounded exasperated. He didn’t understand why you never fought back, didn’t understand why you let them walk all over you. 

“Soonie, it’s easier this way, trust me.” 

“Easier? How on earth is it easier?” He stood by you as you mopped the floor. He wanted to help but you swatted his hands away. 

“Just,” You sigh tiredly, leaning against the mop and not really meeting his eyes, “Just, don’t do that again. I’ll deal with them my way.”

He gave you a look, that disapproving look you only received when you paid for something.

“But,” You paused, giving him a soft smile, “thank you for standing up for me.”

His face softened and gave you a pat on the shoulder. 

“You’re lucky it was me who was here, Seungcheol would have made sure that bitch left with a swollen face.”

a/n: Again, i always welcome criticism, let me know if you don't like anything or have any questions! :D

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol fic #choi seungcheol #seventeen seungcheol #scoups fluff #scoups fic #scoups #seventeen x y/n #seventeen #svt #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #svt fluff #hoshi #kwon soonyoung #seventeen soonyoung

[sc0tters]

Operation Get Together | Cole Caufield

summary: it may have taken two summers but you and Cole are finally ready to make that move to get together.

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.82k

authors note: writing for Cole makes me happy so even though I’ve had this request for weeks, I’ve been waiting for her. I do love this so much though!

It seemed like everyone was on the same page.

Well everyone but you and Cole.

You had made your second appearance at the lake house after Luke met you during orientation week at UMich.

The friends the two of you had formed quickly blossomed making you his best friend outside of hockey.

So it was no surprise when you were invited to the lake house in the summer of freshman year.

Cole swore that he wasn’t meant for love before he met you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be in love but instead that he couldn’t seem to find it.

Unlike Cole, you were desperate for love. As a child you watched all of those Disney movies that caused you to crave that fairytale ending.

The place were your stories intertwined was that neither one of you felt like you had a person that truly got you.

It was a warm day when you arrived at the lake house, everyone else got there just a few days before you “we are going to find you a girl this summer.” Trevor announced patting the older boy on the back who let out a laugh at the offer.

Cole shook his head “don’t bother,” he sighed thinking about how he had just given up on dating apps.

Before the Ducks player had the chance to respond there was the sound of scream that came from inside “should we go check on that?” Cole asked with wide eyes as he got up already heading to the door before the younger boy could say no.

Luke let out a gasp as he spun you around in his arms “can’t believe you’re here!��� His words made you laugh as Quinn thought it would be funny getting you an earlier flight without Luke knowing.

Trevor furrowed his eyebrows seeing the pretty girl who stood in front of them “you want to introduce us to your friend Lukey?” The Ducks player asked locking eyes with you.

The youngest Hughes boy shook his head “don’t get any ideas with her Z,” Luke protectively wrapped his arm around you causing a laugh to fall from your lips “I’m y/n.” You took note of Cole as he stood behind the taller hockey player.

Cole kept quiet as he took in your features “I’m Trevor, but you can call me whatever you want.” Luke had warned you that Trevor was going to be forward so this was only proving his case.

But you couldn’t help it when you let out a laugh.

This was going to be a long summer, you just hoped that it was going to have a lot more of Cole in it.

That request for the most part seemed to fall on deaf ears. Sure you and Cole grew closer but each time you tried to flirt with him, he just seemed to deflect your advances.

Yet you still ended the summer with his number and that meant Cole spent most of his off time keeping up with you.

A giggle left your lips as you watched Luke roll his eyes “yeah so there is a party tonight to celebrate the boys win.” You explained applying your lipgloss as you stared at your mirror.

Cole couldn’t help it as he watched you through the FaceTime call “you have fun tonight peach?” Cole asked scratching his jaw as you liked back at him.

He had just finished training and called you before called you so his hair was still sweaty as it fell down on his face “you know I will.” You smiled feeling your cheeks grow warm as you thought he was the hottest man alive in that moment.

Luke coughed reminding you that you two had to go “I gotta go Cole,” you sighed sending him a pout “have fun with Luke.” Cole sent you a salute before he hung up.

You turned to Luke with a stupid grin on your face causing your friend to smirk “got something you want to tell me?” Luke asked crossing his arms.

It was hard for you to keep anything a secret from Luke and this was no different “I think I like Cole?” You confessed as you shrugged.

That was months ago and the new operation going into summer was getting you and Cole together.

The boys all agreed that Cole clearly had the hots for you after he turned down a girl in Montreal.

Trevor couldn’t believe his eyes when that girl walked away from Cole “how the hell did you fuck that one up?” Trevor asked furrowing his eyebrows as he let out a scoff.

Jack nodded in agreement “she was like totally into you!” He slurred his eyes as he spoke in a duh tone.

Cole grumbled as he ran his fingers through his hair “I’m interested in someone else.” The HABs player shrugged nonchalantly despite the fact that this was the first time he was letting his friends learn about this.

The youngest boy’s eyes went wide “is it y/n?” Jack wasn’t an idiot as he had watched you get close to the boy. And Ellen had told her son that she thought it was cute how you and Cole talk after you sent Cole a snap with the Hughes mother.

If Cole tried to hide it then he wasn’t doing a very good job “yeah.” He nodded letting his words match his red cheeks.

It surprised all of the boys that nothing happened between you and Cole during the second summer, so with one week left at the lake house. They were all trying to help Cole get his graft on.

And that’s what brought you being paired up with him at the final golf game of the summer “you want to drive?” Cole asked as he followed you to the golf cart that you had been assigned.

He watched as you spun around to face him as you twirled the keys in your hand “you drive,” you nodded holding the keys out for him to grab “like it when you’re in charge.” Now that comment wasn’t meant to be sexual but Cole tried his hardest to ignore that.

Jack and Luke couldn’t help but laugh as they watched the interaction between you two as the older boy helped you load your clubs onto the back of the kart “you think they’re finally going to do something?” Jack asked turning his attention to his younger brother.

Luke shrugged “I mean I know y/n likes him.” You spent all of sophomore year turning down any advances that guys sent your way. And it was probably because she wanted Cole “she does?” weirdly enough the boys never actually had a conversation with Luke in their plan of getting you with the HABs player.

The youngest Hughes boy laughed as he nodded “last time she even looked at a guy like that was Quinn and she did that for two days.” When you first met Luke’s brothers you thought his eldest brother was hot but you quickly turned away from that idea as you began something with one of the other players on the ice hockey team.

Jack nodded playing his hands on his hips “maybe you’re right.” He shrugged thinking that operation get Cole and you together might have been easier than they all thought.

The game had gone on with nothing more than the occasional bit of flirtation thrown here and there but the biggest moment happened at the eighteenth “no peach.” Cole shook his head between his laughs as he watched you line up your club to putt this ball.

You sent Cole a glare “rather than laughing you could help your partner.” You reminded him causing the rest of the boys to laugh.

Cole took your offer though as he walked over to you “for a starters you gotta relax your arms.” When his hands went over yours you did the exact opposite of what he wanted.

His head rested on your shoulder “this angle is all wrong too.” He added shifter your feet so that you were now parallel to the hole.

Your head nodded as your breathed hitched feeling his hands readjust themselves on your op of yours “and there!” Cole let out a cheer as he swung your club watching as you finally got the ball into the hole on the first putt.

He moved his hands to wrap around your shoulders as he congratulated you “well done.” Cole mumbled pressing a kiss to your temple.

The moment you two had made was cut short as Trevor let out a dramatic gag “get a room you two!” It made the boys laugh as both of your cheeks turned red.

After that you two seemed to go back to your quiet states, barely talking as you both helped unpack the car “wonder where they went?” You mumbled seeing that the cooler boxes were the only things left in the trunk of the car and none of the boys were in sight.

Cole laughed as he shrugged “decided we didn’t need them.” He joked as he grabbed the extra cooler before you could get the chance “not so fast.” The hockey player shook his head as you let out a groan.

It made him smile “what kind of gentleman would I be if I made you take it peach?” He cocked his head flashing you a grin.

You let out a laugh as you shook your head “you are so cheesy!” You giggled placing your hands on your hips “only for you,” Cole shot back watching as you leaned against the car.

The only real thought that went through his mind was how pretty you looked with the stars shining down under the night sky “like that about you,” you confessed ignoring how your cheeks turned red.

Despite the fact that there was the brief two year age gap, Cole felt like he was falling for you fast “think I like you.” The boy shot back as he placed the cooler on the driveway letting the gap between you both shut.

You grinned like a kid in a candy store hearing that “think I like you too.” By the time you got your words out his hands were on your cheeks tilting your head up to meet his.

As he kissed you it was soft, could even call it loving as you melted under his touch “get it Coley!” Alex whistled causing you two to pull away to then see that all of the boys were stood by the front door watching you.

It made you hide your face in his chest “none of that tonight peach,” Cole shook his head as he hooked his fingers under your chin “gonna show you off to the whole world.” He mumbled pecking your lips as he smiled.

This was definitely the best end of the summer that you could have planned for.

#cole caufield imagines #cole caufield #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #imagines #oneshots #Cole caufield x reader #amber writes fics

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

to me the magicians is largely a show about how terrible it is to be 23 both in the sense that it sucks so bad and in the sense that 23-year-olds suck so bad (confidential to 23-year-olds reading this: not you, dear, but also, check back once you've gone through your saturn return), so it's very rare that any of the characters do anything that actually bothers much less upsets me because i'm like, the terribleness is the point and much of the joy for me. but we all have our individual pressure points so for the sake of the historical record here is a complete list of times the characters in the magicians do something i dislike:

julia: in the pilot when she tells quentin "you're good at so many things, just pick one!" to me that is not only the meanest thing julia ever says or does to quentin it is maybe the meanest thing anyone ever does to anyone at any point on the entire show. like julia i love you more than life itself but can we maybe let a bitch live

quentin: there's a specific quality to the all-in earnest dorkiness with which he approaches the quest that i just cannot handle. it makes me want to walk into the screen and place my hands on his shoulders and look him in the eye and say "this is why you had no friends in high school." like at a certain point your inability to read the room becomes my problem and that's the point at which even though i would very literally lay down my life for yours i cannot even look you in the eye

alice: when she's super obnoxious and condescending to harriet about signing/communication/etc. this one gets an asterisk because i actually think that scene is good writing in that it's in character with what we know of alice and her flaws to be super weird about a deaf person and i think she is meant to come across as unpleasantly in the wrong and i like it when a show gives its protagonists such genuine types of behavioral errors. but it does make me viscerally uncomfortable to watch

josh: one of the less sung about hate crimes near the end of season 4 is josh chuckling to himself about how margo thinks she's mad at him but really she's mad at herself because he like superhumanly divines her emotional architecture because they've banged twice or whatever. this one gets an asterisk in the opposite direction because i feel like everything i (a known proponent of Josh Rights) enjoy about josh is down to the joshness of josh and everything i don't enjoy about josh is bad writing fueled by heterosexuality brain poison so it feels like i'm holding it against him unfairly when actually the real josh would not do that and it's just that the writers are bad. but that moment makes me feel like we need to send him to the guillotine immediately so on the list it goes

kady: kady doesn't matter enough to rise to the level of bothering me. sorry kady i love the version of you that exists in the universe written by writers who gave a shit

margo: i feel like i had one for margo at some point but i can't remember what it was. i guess i wish she were a little less anti-democracy once established upon the throne but i also read a lot of that as an outgrowth of her habit of being the tough bitch partly because she's worried about eliot getting his ass killed so.... eh

penny: literally nothing ever not even once not even for a second. i tried to think of one and i couldn't. and like i know that he does things on screen that are morally bad or simply not nice or whatever. but i'm like physically incapable of being upset by penny he brings me too much joy it cannot be cancelled out by ethical qualms or empathy for anyone else i'm a simple woman i see his beautiful face and i am at peace. he deserves to be a huge asshole to everyone all the time for no real reason, as a treat and also because it's soooooo funny. i would not want him to change a thing

eliot: ok like literally mind your business about margo's bush this is not being an ally!!!!!!

#the magicians

[doodle-pops]

Lords of Gondolin | With A Deaf Tone Reader

Request: Hi Mina! Not sure if this has been done yet but can I request a gondolin elves x reader set of headcanons where the reader loves to sing but is absolutely tone deaf? Thank you!

A/N: I did my best to add some humour in there so it wasn't all sentimental. Hope you don't mind.

⭑⚝ Galdor

Galdor is very patient with you as someone who suffers from tone deafness. It’s not a condition found among elves, nor ever heard of, so it was shocking for him to become aware of your inability to follow the pitch of melodies.

Whether you can’t sing or replicate instrumental notes, it would not bother Galdor at all. He’s also aware that you probably know about how elves find the voices and singing abilities of their partner an attractive feature and wonders if you think the opposite of yourself.

He’s there to cheer you up with reassurance that whether or not you can carry a proper pitch, he still loves you nonetheless. (He’d love you even if you were a worm; he’s got a garden for you to live in lol).

There is a degree of protectiveness when it comes to others being aware of your condition and deciding to mock you. Preferably other elves who were jealous of you being with Galdor.

He takes his job seriously when it comes to defending your condition and makes it clear that it’s no joking matter. Speaking about jokes, depending on your sensitivity to your condition, sometimes you might joke about your singing skills while Galdor would have trouble in knowing whether to laugh or not.

You may have to inform him that it’s alright to laugh along once you’re the one making the joke.

⭑⚝ Ecthelion

Since we all know Ecthelion is all fair and beautiful, it would be no joke that he would be stunned at your condition. Having not heard about it before, it’s shocking to know that it’s possible to have difficulty matching the pitches of a melody.

Perhaps as you’re with Ecthelion, you might ask if he would be willing to help you tune to the right pitch when singing. He would be honoured to provide assistance in any way possible.

You two would start with learning to read music sheets while he plays each note through his flute or voice and trains you to hear the differences in each pitch as best as he could.

It’s a challenging start since everything sounds the same to you, but he’s ever so patient and kind, even if in the end you’re unsuccessful at correctly recognising the differences in pitches.

Your condition doesn’t worry him at all since he can sing and that’s where the true essence of his love lies when he composes his words. Despite your inability to hear the notes properly, you can still hear the romantic words he sings, and they make your heart melt.

There are times, he’ll ask you to sing along with him which leaves you bewildered because, “Thel, you know I can’t sing like you, much less carry a decent tune. I’d crack the glass.” To which he would politely reply with a, “I know, but join me.”

⭑⚝ Egalmoth

He doesn’t tolerate others learning about your condition, it is something kept private. Only he gets to listen to your off-tune melody. Yes, you heard me right. Egalmoth will still ask you to sing as best as you can and will enjoy your song.

He knows it’s coming from your heart, so it’s full of love and meaning, and your off-tune melody doesn’t bother him. The most he will do for your comfort would have your singing moments conducted behind closed doors.

At the same time, he’s empathetic towards your concerns with your inability to match the correct pitches and sing in tune. Like everyone else, you can count on Egalmoth to be your cheerleader.

He brushes your insecurities aside when you bring up the connection between elves singing and attractiveness. He makes it clear that it was not the reason he loved you and even though singing is troublesome, he still loves you.

With him, there shall be no insecurities when it comes to your condition. End of complaints because he’s going to join in on your singing to purposefully have an excuse to annoy people with his.

He doesn’t care whether he’s on key or off, he wants to show you that there’s fun once you embrace it and ignore the idiot haters. You two will have a concert!

⭑⚝ Glorfindel

Never one for being as vocal as his dear friend, but can be often seen humming a merry tune, Glorfindel’s sunshine never turns gray upon learning your tone deafness. If anything, he reassures you that it’s alright.

Like most of the others, Glorfindel will shield you from any negativity that other elves (if any became aware) will throw at you to bring shame for not being attractive by their standards.

In comes your saviour to swoop in and remove all the bad aura the other haters bring out of jealousy. Glorfindel is quick to shut down any naysayers and praise how much he loves you and finds everything about you attractive.

It depends on whether or not you’re interested in coordinating with the right pitch to replicate because whatever your decision is, he is supportive nonetheless.

If you are, Glorfindel will be supportive and guide you to idea his good friend Ecthelion or Princess Idril for assistance. He will be there with you every step of the way and motivating you even if you don’t always get the notes right every time.

Would make jokes about you still singing better than some of the other Lords, and encourage you to never stop singing. He doesn't want to stop your melodies since he understands the joy they bring.

⭑⚝ Rog

With him being a focused blacksmith, the musical aspect of the nature of elves had never struck him on his head until you showed up. Rog knows how to carry a tune or two, there would be songs required to sing while crafting to aid with creation.

He would be concerned if your tone deafness was life-threatening, and breathe a sigh of relief when learning that it wasn’t.

Of course, Rog is patient and observant to know that you’re self-conscious when it comes to your musical abilities, be it singing or playing instruments. There is clarity between you two that your inability does not worry him or change his perspective of you.

Rog would not shy away from listening to you hum an off-key melody while he slave away. There’s a small smile on his face when you go even further off-key or your voice cracks; it’s sentimental to him.

What’s reassuring to him is that your condition doesn’t take away hearing, so you can listen to songs he dedicates to you based on his undying love and passion. There are moments when you will be blessed to hear him utter a song or two with the sweetest words that represent his love.

⭑⚝ Maeglin

Would be stunned to learn that you couldn’t sing on key with the songs being performed and would politely question you out of curiosity. He means no harm or embarrassment, it is simply that he had never come across a person like this before.

Maeglin may be a bit more clueless and assume that with basic singing lessons, you might be able to catch a tune since it was how he learnt, not fully understanding at first, that it was something different from a person who couldn’t sing.

He’s gentle and curious at the same time, asking tomes of questions about how it came about and if there’s a way to make improvements. His inquiry might be a bit silly since you could have gotten it sorted out if there was a fixture, but he also considered that you might not have been around or knew people who could assist.

Maeglin is all on your side and not in a rush to make changes since this was your choice and he respected your decision. If you want to work on identifying the correct pitches, he’ll direct you to the right musicians. If not, he’s happy to do the singing for you.

Since he understands indifference better than anyone else and how fitting in with the crowd can be challenging, he’s always up to make you feel welcome and perfectly fine. Gonna get praises here and there as he listens to you sing to yourself with a big smile.

Masterlist

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#lords of gondolin #maeglin x reader #rog x reader #glorfindel x reader #egalmoth x reader #ecthelion x reader #galdor x reader #house of the mole #house of the hammer of wrath #house of the golden flower #house of the heavenly arch #house of the fountain #house of the tree #maeglin headcanons #rog headcanons #egalmoth headcanons #glorfindel headcanons #ecthelion headcanons #galdor headcanons #silmarillion x reader #silmarillion imagine #silmarillion headcanons #middle earth imagine #middle earth x reader #middle earth headcanon #x reader insert #x reader fluff #silmarillion #doodlepops writings ✨

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — AKI x FEM READER 

Aki’s always rescuing you. 

wc — 1k

tags — suggestive 

“Have you drank before?”

“Of course,” you say with more confidence than you feel. You neglect to mention that you’ve only had a sip of beer at your father’s knee, or just one half swallow of a shot from someone else’s glass under someone else’s watchful supervision. 

That someone else steps in to defend you now, as he always does. You feel a strange surge of annoyance and gratitude, always needing to be looked after like a puppy that’s wandered too far from its owner. Aki’s right there to scruff you when you get too reckless. 

“Cut that out,” he says, annoyed. “You’re pressuring her.” 

“Ooh,” Arai smirks. “You hear that, guys? Aki’s got a crushhh-“

He’s cut off by a near collision with Aki’s leg as he gets up to almost effortlessly pluck you off the floor. You yelp as he raises you up so smoothly it’s like it takes nothing out of him at all. 

He’s so cool. 

Aki tugs you away from the crowd and outside. 

“You didn’t have to,” you start lamely, then stop. It’s too awkward. You know Aki always spoils you, but you don’t know how to get him to stop when part of you knows you deserve it. Not his attention, but his overprotectiveness. You’ve gotten yourself into enough sticky situations that he’s then had to bail you out of to protest. 

Tonight alone, he’s taken half the shots that are meant for you. He doesn’t even make you suffer for it, casually swiping it out of your hand before you can bring it to your mouth. It makes you uncomfortable, not with him, but with the care he handles you with. 

Aki’s patient. He waits while you collect your thoughts. It crosses your mind suddenly - an idle thought wondering what would it take for him to snap - before you bat it away like a particularly annoying fly. 

“I feel bad, y’know? You’re always looking after me.” 

“Someone has to,” he says off-handedly before your hurt expression tells him he’s clearly said the wrong thing. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just- You don’t have to feel bad. I’m happy to.” 

He takes your hand in his gently, not thinking much of it. His skin is cool to the touch, a soothing balm against your frayed nerves. You hate work parties. The alcohol makes you dizzy, everyone’s too loud, and the heat is headache inducing. Power’s body is too warm next to yours, and she jostles you with every loud anecdote she recalls. You’d rather be here with Aki on the balcony. Absentmindedly, you play with his fingers. 

Aki’s hands, like everything about him, are elegant and beautiful. His nails are constantly trimmed within a centimeter of standard protocol, as immaculate as the guidebook’s. Denji’s nails are too long because he can’t be bothered to cut them. Sometimes he paints them black because Kobeni told him girls are into that, other times they’re the color of whatever gunk is trapped underneath them. Aki tells him off often for it. His demands that Denji wash his hands fall on deaf ears. 

Aki tries to set a good example, though he doesn’t succeed. He moisturizes every night, slicking his hands up to his wrists with lotion so they stay soft, even in this line of work. The drag of skin over skin is delicate, scented oils perfuming the pulse points in his wrist. His knuckles are slightly bigger than the width of his fingers, making them appear bonier and more fragile than they are. Each finger tapers to a soft curve, his nails ivory crescents.

His thumb presses against the divot on your hand between your thumb and forefinger as he readjusts his grip. Long, graceful, pale fingers belonging to a hand that swallows yours whole. Your throat is dry. The point of connection between you two feels like everything and nothing at the same time. 

With his free hand, he pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. This isn’t hard to accomplish with one hand. Lighting up is much harder. Aki struggles to hit the wheel, sparks flying but never igniting. 

You can’t tell if that’s a blush or if the evening light is playing tricks on you. It doesn’t matter. He’s still cool to you. 

Wordlessly, you take the lighter from him and ignite his cigarette. He tips his head back ever so slightly as he takes his first drag of tobacco that hour. 

Addict. 

There’s no rebuke in your thoughts, only fondness. 

You can see the sweet relief on his face as his eyelids close. The profile of his face in the dim flame is stark, shadows like bruises against his cheekbones. Smoke haloes his head. He looks like a remorseful saint from an old painting, the paper yellowed with age around the edges. 

While he’s distracted, you try to sneak a hand in his pocket. He traps you instantly, hand caught between his and his side. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He narrows his eyes at you, the way he does at Denji and Power when they’re being suspiciously nice. When they do it, it usually means they’ve ruined something in the house. He knows full well what it means when you do it. 

“Getting a cigarette?” You try for an innocent smile. 

“Nice try,” he laughs in your face as he pulls your hand out of his pocket. You grab at it anyways, fingers closing around empty air. 

“But Aki-“

“Actually, stand back.” 

Confused, you retreat an inch. He can’t really be that mad at you for something so small, can he?

“More.” 

“Aki!” 

“Second-hand smoke is bad for you. Maybe you should head inside.” 

His smile is too crooked to be fake. All at once, you realize he’s messing with you. 

“Tease,” you grumble. The wind picks up again and you resist the urge to sneeze. Aki opens his coat and gestures you closer. His skin is as cold as always so it doesn’t help much, but his body blocks out the elements. The circle of his arms is tight around you, his chin hard where it digs into the top of your head. His hands slide to your waist, gentle pressure wrapped around your hips. He smells like ash and tobacco, a little unpleasant but nullified by the warm vanilla spice of his perfume. You know he doesn’t like cologne. 

Aki is muscle, sinew, bone - alive, painfully so. You sear this moment into your memory, knowing all too well what a miracle life is in a profession like yours. 

“Stop thinking,” Aki mutters against your ear, muffled by the stick of his own death he holds between his teeth. 

You obey as his hands creep up your body.

#sera writes #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #aki fluff

[rootsofdread]

yasss, your reqs are finally open again!! so happy to see it <3

could you do Ash, Thalita, Dwight, Rebecca and Ace with a killer s/o (or crush (or friend)), who's just..very chill? Trials with them filled with zero sadism or hard feelings, they are just, yk, doing their job. Sometimes giggling at the stupid things survivors do, ask if everything's alright if someone falls or bumps into something, and letting everyone go on a good day if they just ask good enough!!

🦞loveyou

this was fun to do!! looove survivor x killer lol <33

also tried to make the relationship ambiguous so it can be read as either romantic or platonic!

Dwight Fairfield:

If you asked him, Dwight wouldn’t lie, you still scare him a little bit, even though he knows you’re generally harmless outside of doing what the Entity asks you. And you being friendly doesn’t really help him make sense of his feelings. It’s a confusing concoction and he never knows how to act around you.

If you come to help him after he falls on his face while trying to vault away from you, his face flushes red — he still tries to act brave in front of you, though. He quickly tells you he’s alright and dusts himself off. He kind of sits there awkwardly in front of you for a moment before gesturing that you should get back to your chasing.

He’s usually the first to ask if you can let everyone go. Typically blurted out in fear when you have him down, but sometimes he very awkwardly walks up to you after you’ve hooked or downed someone to ask if you’ll let them all live, fidgeting with his hands. He knows chances are you can’t, but he also knows it doesn’t hurt to ask if you’re willing to listen.

Ace Visconti:

Of course, Ace is a gambling man. When he noticed you looming over him while he worked on a generator, he decided he should try his luck committing to the generator. You didn’t immediately stab him, so maybe it’ll work this time — out of the hundreds of other times he’s tried it. He was surprised when he realized he had finished the generator and you had left to bother someone else. Looks like his luck is finally turning around…

He usually takes risks like this with you. It’d happen with any killer, honestly, but he feels more safe taking gambles when it’s with you. He’ll commit to working on generators, instantly run to save teammates, try to pull himself off of the hook, even. Sometimes it doesn’t pay off the way he wants to, if you decide to mess with him, but that doesn’t dampen his spirit.

This means he’s usually also the first to offer himself in place of one of his teammates. He kind of banks on you loving him enough you’ll spare both of them, but he knows sometimes he needs to go or you enjoy messing with him a bit. He tends to see it as more of him earning points to cash out with you, like you’ve killed him this many times, you should let him go this time. This works a little better.

Ash Williams:

Ash’s bravery — perhaps more accurately, stupidity — regarding evil creatures isn’t exactly a secret. He was always bold and hanging around you when he shouldn’t have been, he was the first to find out that you’re relatively harmless compared to most of the other killers. Due to said “bravery,” of course — but he finds it just groovy that you’re a cool killer.

If you’re in a trial with survivors who don’t already know you’re chill, he loves casually hanging around you and seeing the panic on their face as they try to get him away from you. This would fall on deaf ears even if he didn’t personally know you, but he really gets a kick out of it. You and him can always share a laugh over little things like this.

He will test his luck sometimes by being annoying or baiting hits from you. He knows you don’t actually want him dead, so he has fun messing with you and seeing what he can get you to do. He loves when you get a little playful and go along with it, pretending like you’re really out to get him — it’s so much fun for him.

Rebecca Chambers:

Rebecca would have surprised you by being brave enough to trust that you didn’t want to hurt everyone for your own pleasure, rather than for your job. She may have seemed hesitant, but eased up when she saw how comfortable you were with everyone. There was no bloodlust or craving for violence — you seemed…normal. As normal as you can be, at least, she guessed.

She first got close to you when she ran up to heal a downed teammate and saw you standing there. She felt safe getting them up in front of you, and even gave you a thumbs-up when you let them run off. There was a moment between the two of you before you began chasing her instead.

She doesn’t typically mind when you have to kill a few of the survivors. She knows you have to. As long as you’re nice to everyone and knows you’re not doing much more than a job, she, at least, accepts it. She treats you with the same respect you treat all the other survivors with.

Thalita Lyra:

Thalita was sure her people skills would earn her favors with a killer at some point. Even a monstrous serial killer should be able to be charmed by her, she thought. She was relieved when you had agreed to spare everyone’s lives after a tough, long-winded trial. She knew at that moment you couldn’t be as bad as the rest of them.

She’s competitive and enjoys a bit of fun with you, often baiting you into chasing her around so she can see how long either you or her will last. Of course, there’s the added bonus of this allowing her teammates some time, but it’s mainly to sate her competitive spirit. The others frequently see the two of you running around the grounds laughing to yourselves.

She honestly loves being with you. It makes her feel like she’s building a community again — building a bridge between the survivors and the killers. Perhaps you’re the first step to the two groups coexisting. She knows it’s probably a pipe dream, but you know her, so you know even if that’s true she’ll still work towards it, now with you.

#inbox #dwight fairfield #ace visconti #ash williams #rebecca chambers #thalita lyra #gender neutral reader #killer reader #dbd imagines #dbd x reader #dbd x you #dwight fairfield x reader #ace visconti x reader #ash williams x reader #rebecca chambers x reader #thalita lyra x reader

[redrydersrequiem]

Golden eyed phantom ch 1

Pairing Druig x reader

Rating explicit 18+ only minors ageless blank and non unadapted blogs will be blocked.

Plot: phantom of the opera au

Warnings: Some smut (im still learning how so go easy on me) fingering, dream sex, mind control but not dark)

The opera de popular was one of the crown jewels of paris, a place where dreams and nightmares can become a reality. It’s also where young (y/n) (l/n) found themselves living after the untimely death of their only living relative, their father.With no living family and no prospective husband (y/n) would have been homeless if not for Madame Ajak,the kindly dance instructor of the opera and a dear friend to the girls late father.

Madame Ajak became the mother you never knew, kind, caring, always able to cure any physical ailment that seemed to bother her or anyone else, with Madame came Sersi. She was another girl that had grown up in the opera. Madame Ajak was unable to have children of her own so she adopted Sersi when she was just a baby. The young woman was only a few years older then (y/n) and the two became fast friends. Sersi showed you the ins and outs of the opera house, really the ins and outs of Paris. Many times she would take you out and about to learn about your new home and everything in it including the rest of the people that would make up your new family. The first members you met came in the form of Gilgamesh and Thena.

Gilgamesh was the chief of security for the opera house. He was a giant boulder of a man well built and very intimidating at first glance, that is until he smiles at you and turns into the giant teddy bear he is. Always making sure all of us are safe and sneaking in baked goods every now and then. You wouldn’t know just from looking at him but he was an amazing baker, especially his pies they were to die for. With Gilgamesh came his partner Thena,she was gorgeous a goddess without even trying. She was the stunt, fighting and weapons expert for the opera and many other production houses in Paris. Many people thought she was a model but the mere thought made her grimace, “Why would I want to be a model and have to care what everyone thought of me?” Even though she had a tough exterior she was also very kind in her ways. Thena was determined for all of us younger girls at the opera to be able to protect ourselves, teaching everyone basic self defense and warning signs and so on and so forth. She was truly a ferocious mama bear if she wanted to be, to you she just became a protective aunt.

Next up was, without a doubt, your favorite trio, Phastos,Sprite and Makkari. All three worked backstage, keeping the opera house running as fabulously as it does. Phastos was the head engineer/ prop master. If something needed to be built he was the guy, his creations awe inspiring, some looking as though they had come straight out of the future, but he was still humble enough to answer any questions you or anyone had about the devices. Alongside Phastos worked sprite. She was young that was undeniable but boy was she talented, A true artist she was the head set designer and painter. Everything she created was so stunning you couldn’t even tell it wasn’t real. While Phastos was somewhat humble, Sprite was spunky, quick witted and sharp tongue when wronged. She halted being looked down on because of how young she looked and would lay into anyone who belittled her.

Makkari was a completely different story, even though she was deaf that did not stop her. Always with a kind smile on her face she ran around helping pull everything together. She was the resident lighting and stage hand always in the right place at the right time, almost like there were seven of her. When she wasn’t working she would be in the shopping district, dragging (y/n) with her to oogle all the shiny and sparkly Knick knacks, all the beautifully colored fabrics and imports coming in. In fact that's how Kingo was introduced.

Kingo was a fashionista, a real eye for how to make everyone look their best with one look.he was the opera's resident costume designer / understudy. Kingo dreamed of being on stage; he knew all the words, all the songs, everything, but sadly his time in the spotlight had not yet come. Everyone always reassured him his time would come, in fact you would always run lines with him whenever he was feeling down, he was over the top dramatic for sure but so entertaining. Probably the only thing more entertaining was picking on him with sprite and makkari. His reaction to the twos joke always brought a smile to your face, and was almost a bonding experience with the other girl.

During the day there was enough to distract you from your sullen thoughts. In particular the formation of a new found family, always there to relieve you of your boredom and loneliness but at night it was a different story. About a month after you had arrived you sat in the opera's small chapel, lighting a candle for your fathers soul. You guess your gentle weeping is what brought forth the angel's song, but all you really remember is the gentle glowing gold of the candles or at least you think it was the candles but you didn't really care as the feelings of calm wash over you with the soft timber of the angel's voice. At night or really whenever you were alone the angel would speak to you. Teach you the ways of the opera house and the music that went along with it. He was a mystic presence, always there but never in reach.

He invaded your whole life, when not learning from him at night your dreams started turning to him.

It would start with his voice, hearing it in your head as you drifted to sleep, the scene would change to a candle lit backdrop, soft smells of vanilla fill the air, a dreamy feeling wanders around you, then you would feel hands wrap around you. They were strong, long fingers as they wandered up and down your frame. You dare not turn around not wanting the feelings he provokes from you to end too quickly.

You watch as those glorious hands gently slide up your leg taking your thin night shift with them until they reach your core. A branding iron of heat in eloping you as he probes you. Fingers lightly playing with your clit as his lips caressed your ear, words ringing through your very soul it felt

“My beautiful beautiful muse, I've waited so long for you. I’ll never forget the day I first heard your voice, it was like hearing a blessing.”

You couldn’t even articulate words to reply to him shivering as hard as you were from merrily his touch.

“I can not wait for the day you truly belong to me. Mind. Body. And soul”

You feel his fingers stroking in tune to his words. Marking his point deep within your walls, but before you are able to climb to the peak a loud ringing sounds from beside you

“Ignore it”

You try of course but the ringing doesn’t stop. With each ring the scene around you shakes, deteriorating back into the blackness that waits behind your rapidly opening eyes. You sit up in shock, eyes trying to adjust to your bedroom as your alarm rings beside you. Your body still shivering from the after effects of the dream you just had.

Five years had passed, under your teachers guidance your gift bloomed but the only people you would even attempt to try to sing for would be your new family, and that was only light humming. The dreams became normal as well. Usually they happened after working with your mysterious and gracious master. You never learned anything more about him. All you knew was his voice but the one in your dreams seemed to evolve.

First was his hands and then his arms then his legs,his back,even a head of dark brown hair. But never his face. It was starting to vex you honestly, every time waking up from the pure euphoria of those dreams too have reality slap you in the face of how lonely you felt. Not that your new family did not appease your heart, in fact being with them was as natural as breathing. To be honest you couldn't describe what was wrong with you, all you could summarize it as was that it felt like part of you was missing.

A week after your 24th birthday the new owners of the opera appeared and with them came someone familiar.

“Listen up everyone!” Mr Richard's the old owner calls to everyone, all of us currently gathered on the main stag rehearsing the latest show

“I would like to introduce the new owners of the opera Monsieur Nelson and Monsieur Murdock.”

Everyone claps all clambering around to get the best views of the two young owners. You had to admit neither were horrible looking, you thought it was interesting for a blind person to want to buy an opera but it made sense to, even if he couldn’t see the performances, listening to them was the next best thing.

‘Thank you all, thank you we are both very happy to start our adventures in the arts.” Mr Nelson started “We would also like to introduce our generous backer Count Ikaris de solar.” Finished Mr Murdock to when a handsome brunette stepped onto stage to everyone’s approval and applause.

“Ikaris?” You gasped out as everyone continued to clap and awe over the count

“Do you know him (y/n)?” Sersi asks confusingly

“Yes, we knew each other as children. We were somewhat close before his family moved away, I can’t believe that's truly him.”

Before you get another word in, a loud clearing of the throat silences everyone. Mademoiselle Ayesha and her pompous son Adam, step through the crowd in their fine costumes. The madame was the current lead soprano for the opera even though you thought she couldn't sing for shit. Her voice was almost as grating as her attitude towards everyone. Sprite assumed the only reason she was given any parts was because of her stupidly wealthy family and late husband. But you choose not to comment on that. The woman stands there covered in gold and signals to the maestro to start at the top of her aria once more

Oh no she's starting again Sersi says from beside you already getting ready to cover her ears. In fact you can even see the housekeeping staff in the audience stuffing Cotton in their ears. The woman doesn’t get but a few lines in the aria her screeching tone ringing through the stage before the rolled up backdrop above her comes crashing down. The light but sturdy fabric lands on top of the soprano pinning her belly flopped to the stage floor to the shocks and screams of everyone around.

They rush to help the woman up but the damage to her pride is too great. She starts screeching about all the previous accidents directed at her, of all the misfortune and indignity that has befallen her and how she will not stand for it any longer. Mr Murdock simply stands there letting the scene unfold as Mr Nelson loses his mind along the diva as she. Stomps her heel gathering all her things, her son and their people and promptly leaving

The new owners were in a tissy (mostly foggy) wondering how they are supposed to open tomorrow with no star. How this whole adventure is now wasted. Madame Ajak promptly interrupts, saving Mr Nelson from a full melt down, handing the duo a dark black envelope with a giant red wax seal on it.

“Where did that come from?” You ask Sersi

“That confirms it then, It must was the phantom”

“The phantom?”

“Have you honestly not heard the others talk about this?

“No?”

She just shakes her head at you before filling you in on the details

“He's a mysterious person, some say he’s a ghost, others a demon but no one knows for sure. They say he's been here forever always making his presence known. In fact the previous owner used to pay him a monthly wage just to appease him, that and that box number 5 be kept empty for him whenever he wishes. Everything was going well but this past couple years he has gotten a little more devious.

“Why?”

No one really knows, and everyone’s afraid to ask or look around afraid they’ll never be seen again.

Before you can ask sersi more your name is being called.

“(Y/n)(l/n) can do it.”

What?” You had missed the conversation between the two new owners and Madame Ajak

One of your dances can replace the star diva from the past 5 years.? Your sure about that?

“Foggy why don't we give the girl a chance”

“Matt this is doing nothing for. My nerves

You stand there like a deer in headlight hoping you could somehow slip to the back and out of sight but Sersi sees you growing anxiety and gently but firmly directs you towards Ajak.

Madame gently took you from her daughter and lead you to the center of the stage

“Madame what,,,,but,, I,,,”

“It will be alright dear. I've heard you practice these last couple of years when you sneak off at night, and i know your teacher has taught ypu well”

“My teacher?”

Ajak just gives you a knowing look before she turns towards the maestro and nods at him leaving you standing there as everyone watches.

You hear quiet cheer from stage left where your little opera family all stand giving you thumbs up and right smiles, trying to ease your nerves, though it doesn’t really help, it's not till you look up towards the grand chandler that that gentle calming glow envelops your senses once more.

“From the top of the aria mademoiselle”

The band picks up and the music begins to play

To be honest you don't remember much after that. It was a whirlwind of activity. Being swept off stage and quickly fitted into costumes, stage managers telling you where you need to stand, color spotting you with lights all the fixing basically to make it seem like you were always meant to be in the role.

You didn't know that while you sang your heart out on stage a certain young count had finally taken notice of you

“(Y/n)?”

“That’s the girl that used to follow you around?” Count Arishem Ikarus’s father ask begrudgingly

“Yes father that's the daughter of that famous violinist tha lived near our old summer home.”

“Well, well we may have found ourselves a diamond in the rough after all. The elder count scrutinizes the crowd all gawking at the peasant, like she's a princess. All he sees is an opportunity to boost his family further, the gears of his plan already forming in his mind.

Phantoms pov

There she is at last! Right where she belongs, my beautiful beautiful muse.

#druig x reader #druig imagine #druig smut #druig x female reader #druig x y/n #druig fanfiction #eternals #eternals x reader #eternals fanfiction #sersi eternals #ikaris x reader #makkari #phantom of the opera

[anjelicawrites]

Title: Between safety and need

Pairing: dom!Osferh x sub!reader x dom!Aemond Targaryen and all the combinations thereof.

NSFW, 18 + only please and specific warnings under the cut!

Warnings: smut, spanking, edging, nipple and clit clamp, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, p in v sex, double penetration, ass play, sex toys use, angst with a happy ending, sub dropping, Reader being a brat.

A/N: nonnie I am so sorry it took me so long to answer to this one!!! I hope you'll like it, even though it took me so long to write it!!!

There are days where you are a brat to get your lovers’ attention, others where it’s more of a ruse just because you feel playful like that. Today is neither of those, today you feel bothered by everything: the sound of the TV in the background, Aemond’s fingers on the keyboard, even the gentle snoring of the cats sounds like nails against a blackboard. You had tried all you could to drive the feeling away: shutting yourself in your own study, listening to your favorite podcast and going for a long walk in the countryside, to no avail; your own skin irks you to no end. The pinnacle of your irritation explodes when you and your lovers are in the living room while you try, unsuccessfully to read a book and you snap at Osferth

“Would you please stop making that sound?”

“I’m breathing?” he stares at you with big, surprised eyes

“Then stop! It’s irritating!”.

Usually he’s the one to take the situation in hand when you are like this, it surprises you to no end to feel Aemond’s hand on your neck, fingers curling gently to keep you in place.

“That’s enough, ñuha jorrāelagon, my love”

“Let go of me, Aemond Targaryen” you bite back

“No, I don’t think I will. You’ve been beyond heinous today. I am quite done with you and Osferth is as well”.

If you were less irked, you’d run away, because Aemond is deadly calm, which means you’ve managed to get on his last nerve. That rarely happens, he’s usually patient with you, even when anyone else would already be angry.

“You don’t tell me what to do!”.

Deaf as you are to everything, you don’t realize this is the worst thing to say. You start to realize the moment Aemond’s hand sneaks into your hair to grab the roots tight and pull your head back to look into your eyes.

“I think I will, since you are incapable of being yourself today”.

Aemond is rarely angry with you and even less times he’s expressed his emotions physically the way he’s doing now. Grabbing your hair like this is more of an Osferth move, in general, overpowering you this way is what your other lover usually does when you are being a brat, for Aemond to resort to this, it means you have truly overstepped.

You try to say something but Osferth gently puts a finger on your lips, calm and collected, the darkness of his anger pooling in his lovely eyes.

“Shh, I think you’ve talked enough for today. I know you want to say that you are sorry, but saying it just because now you realize you will be punished is meaningless. We’ll know when you are sorry”.

With that he lifts you over his shoulder, deaf to your grunting and to your fists against his strong back and heads to the bedroom. This is a curveball. Aemond doesn’t play as hard as you and Osferth sometimes do, it’s physically impossible for him to bear many of the things you two do; if he’s being part of this, what are they going to do to you? 

You can literally feel the cogs in your head run faster and faster the closer the bedroom is, your brain creating scenarios upon scenarios, until your mind is a mess of images and ideas.

None too gently Osferth deposits you on the bed and orders you to stay put, in a tone that admits zero comebacks. You sit still, hands folded, eyes smoldering: you are not giving either of them the satisfaction of knowing how much this is off putting to you. You stare at them with an adversarial smile on your face, inward you wish to know what they are whispering, Osferth’s forehead against Aemond’s, one of his hands in his long strands.

The moment Aemond leaves you two, Osferth turns toward you, eyes dark and scanning your face.

“Stand up and undress - his voice is sharp - make it fast, you don’t want me to be halfway when Aemond comes back” he adds when you don’t move.

You recognize the tone, it’s his more dominant side that’s come out to play. You feel yourself being torn between following his command and brat out even more.

“You will get a spanking. Ten strikes because I am feeling nicer than you deserve - he says while sitting on the bed, legs spread - if Aemond comes back before I am done, you will have no orgasms for a week”.

The threat makes you undress quickly and lie on Osferth’s legs even quicker. When he threatens you with that, you know he will deliver and, because he plays dirty, he will use you thoroughly for his pleasure for the duration of the ban, trying to make you come, just so he can extend your punishment.

“You know you only have to be mad at yourself for this, right? I was going to be nice and look at what you are making me do. Count for me and say how grateful you are; if I like your tone I might not hit you that hard”.

The first slap lands on your ass and you bark out your instructions, the second and the third are so fast you can barely speak, by the fourth you feel the tears in your eyes. After the fifth, Osferth grabs your asscheek in a tight hold that makes you scream in pain and squirm in his lap.

“I wonder why you are making such a fuss about this. You are wet - he says, sticking two fingers in your cunt and curling them until you moan - a liar and a brat. I was too loose with my handling of you. Fear not, I will not make this mistake ever again, my love”.

He’s almost reached ten and you are already drooling on his tight, begging him for something you don’t know, pity, or maybe more pain until your brain stops working for a while.

You are not in subspace, yet, you are not fully yourself either, loose and weightless when Osferth grabs your hair, forcing your body into a kneeled position to kiss you roughly, his pent up anger and arousal owning you.

His hand is still in your hair when he tells you to sit on the bed again, to which you comply slowly, your limbs still feeling alien to you. 

By the time Aemond arrives, you are more back into yourself, your arse stinging with every small movement you make against the cotton of the sheets, your bratty smirk back on your lips. 

You are not sure Aemond took so long with whatever supplies he needed, because he couldn’t find them, or because he wanted to give you time to handle the first part of your punishment; whatever the reason, you tell him you are sorry, when he kneels between your spread legs.

“Are you, though, ñuha dāria, my queen?” he asks, his eye boring into yours.

You are and you aren’t. You’d still maintain that life irks you as of now, but maybe telling Osferth to stop breathing was a tad too much.

You know you should stay silent, because Aemond knows all that you are thinking right now: he’s terrifying when he gets like this and uses his analytical skills on you. If he weren’t so subby, he’d make a great dom, whatever those labels mean, your combined sexualities being more fluid than whatever word you use to describe yourselves.

“I thought so - he says, gently cupping your face in his warm hands - know that this brings me no pleasure”

“Are you sure about that?” Osferth kneels behind him, one hand on his cheek to turn his face towards him

“Maybe a little” he admits, his eye trained on you, before kissing Osferth with hunger.

You curl your fingers around the cotton of the sheets, unwilling to show your lovers how much you need them, just by seeing them kiss: you can feel the warmth expanding in your core, the wetness redoubling there and you bit your lower lip to stay quiet, as the kiss turns more physical, Aemond tumbling over Osferth, who just absorbs his weight with a moan, his hands going to his shoulders to make sure he’s not moving, their hips moving in tandem, until they have to separate, a thin tendril of spit connecting their red lips.

“Do you want to change plans?” Osferth asks, his hips jutting up teasingly and you’d call him a whore, lovingly, if the circumstances were different.

Aemond stares at him and then at you, a pensive uhm leaving his lips.

“Maybe another time?”

“Yeah, another punishment” Osferth answers, removing his t-shirt.

You get a second of respite, to try and find your feet, before your lovers sit flanking you on the bed, their hands proprietary on your skin, touching, pinching, scratching, until you moan, wanton. 

“Lie back on the bed and let us play, pretty toy”

“Feel free to scream all you want, ñuha dāria and use your safeword, if you need to”.

You huff at that, as if you’d need to safeword your way out of a punishment. 

“I’m letting that slide. Next time I’m not going to be so charitable” Osferth says, fingers pinching one nipple tight

“Yes sir - you blurt out, the pain zinging up and down your spine - I’m sorry sir”

“Still a brat, I see. That’s going to be a long punishment. We are going to have fun, you? Not so sure” he tells you, before showing you up the bed.

In the corner of your eyes, you see Aemond deposit on the bed the small chest where you all keep the toys. You had to hide the thing when Finan came over to help with putting together the new bed Osferth made and neither of you had the chance to use the contents ever since: you are fucked, you are so very fucked.

Your train of thoughts is cut short by their lips again, kissing paths of fire on your skin, sucking your breasts until you let out a shrill sound of pleasure when you feel fingers gently part your folds, Aemond delicately exploring you, curling his to massage your G-spot. You’d scream, but Osferth is kissing you, swallowing every single sound you make, one hand painfully clenching around one soft breast as you feel your orgasm approaching, cunt tightening around Aemond’s fingers. So close, so close, his pads delicious against that rough patch inside of you, you’re almost there, almost…

You tear your lips from Osferth’s when Aemond’s fingers leave you right before your orgasm. You stare at him with accusatory eyes, legs clenched together in the vain attempt to seize what he’s denied you.

“I’m so sorry, ñuha dāria - he says - this is still punishment”.

You groan when Osferth sucks your juices from Aemond’s fingers, his eyes boring into yours, challenging you to look away. He is so sensual, his pink tongue lapping Aemond’s long fingers, lips slowly sinking down their whole length, until they’ve bottomed out inside his greedy mouth and he moans, filthy and deep in his chest.

“Delicious - he eyes your cunt - I think I need to go to the source, though”.

With sure hands he moves your legs over his shoulders, keeping you at the mercy of his tongue and fingers, and he has none. He knows how to play you, knows how to twist his fingers just right, in tandem with Aemond’s lips on your breasts. He has to pin you on the bed when he starts writing the alphabet on your clit with his tongue, your legs kicking against his back, your torso arching with every sinful stroke, shrill screams of pleasure and torment escape your mouth, until he stops, again, right before you can come all over his face. 

You try to clench your legs again in vain, your boys spreading them gently, eyeing your center like hungry wolves and you can do nothing but cover your face with your hands, as they descend upon you. You lose track of whose fingers are fucking you, whose tongue is lavishing your clit, whose teeth are gently nibbling there, until they don’t and fresh tears spill from your eyes.

“Shh, ñuha dōna, my sweet - Aemond gently cradles your body in his arms, letting you cry against his chest - shh”

“Please” you say, brokenly, your body a bundle of nerves

“Not yet - Osferth gently turns your body so you lie on your back, head on Aemond’s chest - not yet pretty toy”

“I’ve learnt my lesson, I promise”

“We know what’s best for you - he says, kissing your forehead - it’s not time yet”

“When it’s time, I promise it’s going to burn like a supernova, ñuha qēlos, my star”.

A tortured sound escapes your mouth when Osferth enters you, every ridge of his cock like fire against your aching walls. You wail at the pace he’s set, deep and rough pushes that you feel in your whole body, his hands leaving imprints on the soft skin of your tights, to keep you against his body, to grind against you with every push in. Aemond grabs your cheeks with one hand, opening your mouth to let a thin tendril of spit dribble there and you swallow unprompted, anything to show them you are being good, that you’ve learnt your lesson. 

With a groan and a hand around his base, Osferth pulls out, making you scream when he turns you on your front, a hand in your hair to force you on your fours.

“Be good and open your mouth” he murmurs in your ear.

You do that, your tongue lolling out, which grants you a slap on your arse and a ‘good girl’. 

Now it’s Aemond’s hands on your hips, pushing you back on his cock, until he’s seated inside of you, grinding until you scream, only to have Osferth’s cock push inside your mouth, your combined tastes making your arch in pleasure and curl like a vise around Aemond.

“Best cunt you’ve ever had, right?” Osferth says, cupping Aemond’s nape

“And mouth”

“Yeah”.

Like the good girl you can be, you cross your wrist on your lower back, to let them have full control on your body, and they do. While kissing over you, Osferth fucks your slack mouth brutally, one hand on your nape to keep your there, to slot himself in your throat until you kick your legs when the oxygen is not enough, his movements spurred on by the gurgling, lewd sounds you’re making. Aemond’s pushes are passionate and slow, your cunt wet and loose and perfect around him, hitting your insides just right, one hand taking one of yours, to show you that he still loves you, even when you are being punished. When he picks up speed, he pushes you on Osferth’s cock and you just let yourself being used like this, being pushed and pulled between their bodies, until tendrils of your own orgasm start spreading and you don’t know how to tell them, that you’re getting too close, that you’re almost there, so very close.

When they leave your body, you just flop on the bed, tears of frustration down your cheeks. It’s Osferth who comes to you, he cradles you against himself, his lips softly kissing your tears, until you’ve calmed enough to speak.

“What’s your color?”

“Green, please Osferth” you babble

“Not yet, not yet. You’re taking your punishment so well”

“It hurts so bad, please” you’re a whining mess, so far away from the bitchy brat you’ve been all day

“I know, but that’s what punishment is about. If you like it, then it’s not working”.

He is so reasonable that you have no counter argument, just disconnected words of regret and need blabbed against his neck.

You can feel Aemond’s body behind you, one hand turning your face so he can look at you.

“Do you think you can move again? Raise your hips up for me?”

“Yes, Aemond please”

“Sȳz riña, good girl” and you shiver.

Your boys have to help you move, your legs start to feel like jelly and they have to move them for you, until your arse is up and your face on the mattress. 

You tremble when you hear the lube being uncapped, the cold substance being poured on your hole and then Aemond’s index breaching you, slowly, following the way your body responds to the stimuli, adding another finger to gently scissor you, soft moans spilling from your mouth, your clit tingling with every slow movement, your hands searching Osferth’s, needing the tether like a man lost at sea.

Your fingernails bite Osferth’s hands when Aemond pushes the smallest plug in your ass, your nerves responding tenfold to the action. Turning on your back is torment, their fingers burn your skin, the cotton on your back bites at your body; you don’t know if you’ll manage not to safeword your way out of trouble today.

The gentle whirring of the clit sucker makes you groan, your hips jump when Osferth places it on your clit, mercifully on the lowest setting, still your body rocks side to side, legs uselessly trying to close around his arm, Aemond’s lips sucking your breasts are a sweet torment that makes you arch your back, eyes closed, teeth biting your lower lip. You scream when the first clamp closes around your nipple and Aemond has to pull your forehead against his, soothing words cascading from his lips, until his fingers start playing with your other nipple, teasing it into a peak, only to punish it with the other clamp. In the midst of your torment, you try to warn your boys that you’re close again, you don’t want to fail and be punished! 

“Shh, I know, I know” Osferth removes the clit sucker and kisses your belly button, his short stubble tickles your tummy

“You’re doing so well, hae iā sȳz riña, like a good girl” Aemond’s lips steal yours in a kiss, slow and passionate, to which you respond with all your remaining energies, one hand sneaking in his hair.

You have to tear your lips away from his when a bigger plug enters you, your eyes begging Osferth to go slow, which he does, with eyes scanning your face for signs that he should stop; all he can see is your features tormented by pleasure again, when Aemond’s fingers enter your cunt, purposefully hitting your spot, your hands flailing on the sheets. You are so beautiful like this, desperate and ready, his thirst for you redoubling, as if he hadn’t already had a taste of your pussy. 

His tongue laps at your clit, lips sucking the small bud in sync with Aemond’s fingers inside of you, your cries of pleasure music for his ears, your hands in his hair spurring him on to play with you until you are the closest you’ve been today to your orgasm.

When they release your body, you curl into yourself, their stares feel like they’re burning your skin; you can’t physically manage to bear them.

You realize your mistake when Aemond’s hand tugs at the plug inside of you, pulling it partially out to gently push it in again and again and again, until it exits you and he orders you to turn on your fours. You try, but they have to position you, Osferth’s hand in your hair to keep you upright, while cold lube is poured on your hole again, to prepare you for the biggest plug you three own, the last they’re going to use on your.

You try to relax as much as your body allows you to, still the bulbous parts of the dildo feel like they’re splitting you in two, your muscles barely capable of accepting the last one.

“Do you know a lovely fact about your cunt? - Osferth murmurs in your ear - it becomes deliciously tighter when your arse is full. Here, let me show you”.

Your body is nothing more than a ragdoll he can maneuver to sit on his cock, until he’s bottomed out. You feel so full you can’t breath, his girthy cock feels ten times bigger, your cunt barely capable of accepting it, his fingers on your clit forcing your muscles to curl around him even tighter as he grinds against you.

You can barely feel the sting of Aemond's hand grabbing your hair to turn your head to kiss you again, his free hand playing with the clamps on your nipples, your orgasm curling in your tummy, until they both stop and you don’t even have the strength to scream anymore, tears streaming down your face, wet cunt leaking down your thighs.

“Will you be good for us, ñuha dāria? We’re almost there”.

Aemond turns you on your back again, entering you with a groan of pleasure at the added pressure of the plug in your arse, pushing slowly, needing you to feel every inch of his cock seated in your velvety walls, drinking down every wailing sound you make with each and every movement he makes. He loathes that he has to leave your cunt so soon, but you are dangerously close to orgasm and he doesn’t want you to fail; still there’s one last thing he needs to do.

You lie on the bed spent and wired up at the same time, wet and frustrated beyond imagination, nerves firing with every breath you take. You can’t, you can’t anymore, it hurts too bad to be denied like this but you can’t find the strength to use your safeword: you had worse, you can bear it and Aemond has even said that you’re almost done!

You can’t see what Aemond has in his hand, the rush of the blood in your ears covers his rummaging in the chest of toys and the knowing uhm of Osferth, when he sees what he has planned for the final leg of your punishment, knowing this is the maximum he can dish out. He is always amazed by the way Aemond plays with you, gentle and cruel at the same time and so patient, eyeing you like a hawk, while he’s letting the dragon out.

The bite of the clamp on your engorged clit steals a scream from your lips, your hands barely stopping from removing it, hips pushing against nothing in pain and pleasure

“We’re almost there. Do you think you can go through this?” Osferth asks, big hand caressing your contracting tummy.

You need a second to answer, you want to go through this, you can’t bear this punishment anymore, but you want to show your lovers you’re being good, but it hurts so bad to quench your orgasm every time they touch you, you, you, you, God you mind is unraveling already!

“Yes, please” you say with a small voice, that wins you a gentle kiss on your forehead from each of your loves

“Relax as much as you can” Aemond asks and you try to, even though it’s so hard.

The rabbit vibrator is not the biggest toy you own, but your body is so strung up it feels like it’s splitting you in two halves, the pressure doubled with your arse still full of the plug, even the slow setting Aemond has chosen is a torment that forces you to writhe on the sheets, mewling like a bitch in heath, while the smaller part against your captive clit drives you absolutely mental with pain, and desire.

“Look at us” Osferth’s ask, his voice telling you that you can’t say no.

Your two loves are embracing one another, cocks leaky and erect gently rubbing against one another, Aemond’s lips leaving marks on Osferth’s throat, the latter’s hands on the other man’s arse, kneading the muscles there.

“Don’t take your eyes off us, ñuha dāria. This is the last thing we ask you to do and then you can come”.

You wail, desperate: there’s nothing more erotic than your lovers taking care of one another, their bodies entwined, enslaved to pleasure. 

You feel hot and cold at the same time as Osferth lies Aemond on the bed, his lips sucking on his erect nipples until the other moans and arches his back, hands grabbing Osferth’s short locks to pull him even closer to his body. 

Both their erections have been tormenting them from the moment they’ve started playing with you, each time they had to pull out, curbing their own orgasm, had been torture, your body calling theirs into its depths. Now, kissing and sliding against one another, cocks red and balls so full it feels like they’re going to explode, renders them deaf to everything but their own moans of pleasure, and that’s why they don’t notice immediately your silence.

The music of your moans and keens of pleasure has been in Osferth's ears, mixed with Aemond's, creating the best array of sounds he could even hope for, now there's only Aemond's soft moans of need and pleasure: something is wrong. 

Osferth turns his head to you and sees that you are frozen on the bed, eyes open but not staring at them, full of fear, your hands clenched painfully. Shit! Shit! Shit! he thinks. 

"Aemond!". 

His tone it's the warning sign that kicks Aemond awake from his sexual reverie, his eye training on your unmoving body, a curse on his lips the moment he realizes they have fucked up. 

Frenzied they remove all the toys tormenting you, their bodies enveloping yours under the covers, pressing you between them, their hands caressing you gently, while they call your name, softly, trying to lure you back from the depths of your own mind. 

Despite their warm bodies, you feel cold, as if you have no blood in your body. Every muscle hurts, but the worst is your mind, spinning out of control, violent memories plaguing you, blocking you from doing anything, even calling for help. Your lovers' voices have to fight the whirlwind of your thoughts, with tremendous effort you try to focus on them, their tone calm, but with an undercurrent of fear: you have to come back to them, but God it’s so hard to take back yourself from the terror freezing you! 

You don't know how long it takes for you to feel your body again, your heart beating a maddening tattoo in your chest, your fingers searching whomever hands' are the closest to feel that you are gaining control back. You want to call their names, but only a strangled cry escapes and then the tears, copious down your cheeks, the sobs welcome because they wreck your body, making you feel real, back where you belong to. 

If possible, Osferth and Aemond hug you even tighter, each of your sobs stabs them with guilt: too hard, they've used you too hard and didn't even realize it, this wasn't supposed to happen, still it did and both your lovers are devoured by guilt. How, between the two of them, they didn’t realize? You looked tired, yes, but not more than usual during play and Osferth had dommed you harder than he did this time and nothing happened: what did he miss?

“I’m so sorry - you manage to say - I don’t know why…” and you stop, unsure

“It happens to you, sometimes” Osferth tries to reassure you, not that his own words make him feel any better

“It’s just - you search for the right words, the feat hard with your brain still reeling from the violent sub drop - when I saw you two together, I felt alone, I don’t know why”

“We’re so sorry” Aemond tells, lips in your hair

“No, don’t be! - you crane your neck to look at him - not your fault. My brain misfires sometimes”.

Aemond knows, but it doesn't really matter: he's your protector and he's failed. 

You three fall into an uneasy silence, you feeling their combined pain and guilt, them trying their hardest to make sure you are feeling safe, battling against their consciences.

You are not sure how much time has passed, before your body starts to feel like it is your own again: brain less muddled and muscles tired, to the point that you will need to be carried around for the rest of the day. Pressed as you are between your lovers, you can smell sweat and sex on their skins, you feel the thrum of Aemond’s soft humming and Osferth’s fingertips on you, all small signals that help you back into yourself, where you need to be. 

Slowly your skin registers theirs again, their faded erections starting to come back, aided by the proximity of your body and its spell, your unhurried breathing and face playfully rubbing against them, like a happy cat, your arse pushing back, against Aemond’s swelling cock.

“Stop it”  he tells you, trying to put some distance between your delectable ass and his erection

“Why? I need you”

“I am here”

“I don’t mean in that sense”.

You know Aemond struggles, sometimes, when you give him the reins, between what he likes to do to you, and his fear of hurting you, because to him, you are delicate, made of glass, someone he needs to keep safe from everyone, even from himself. There’s this constant push and pull between you two: you demonstrate to him, again and again, that you can take it, and him, who tries to reconcile his two minds.

“Aemond is right - Osferth murmurs against your forehead - this one was bad. You were out for a while”.

You hug Osferth tighter. You know he worries a lot whenever you sub drop, as if it’s his fault and not your stupid brain; besides, shit happens even during the best planned scenes, you both know that.

“I am feeling better, and I need you two” you say

“You thought you could make it, and look what happened” 

“I miscalculated a lot - you answer - I am more focused now, please. I still feel so strung up” and you are.

With the feel of your own body back, so it’s the frustration of so many missed orgasms, nerves itching with every small movement you make.

“We can be quick” 

“I don’t need quick”

“Tell us what it is that you desire, ñuha dōna and we decide, together”.

You feel the warmth of shame, mixed with giddiness, expand in your body. For all your sexual prowess, this is something you’ve never done; on one hand, you are happy to try it with Osferth and Aemond, on the other, you are afraid to ask.

“I want you to take my cunt and arse at the same time - both your lovers exhale a surprised huff of breath - please?”.

A sliver of anxiety enters your voice again. The awful feeling of being abandoned by them rearing its ugly head.

“It is a lot - Osferth’s hand finds home in your hair to crane your neck, needing to look into your eyes - we are a lot”

“We might hurt you” the struggle in Aemond’s voice breaks your heart: he cares so much about you

“Please, I know, please. I am more ready than I will ever be, please don’t abandon me”.

You know you are being unreasonable, that they mean well, still you haven’t expunged all the nastiness the sub drop left behind, you can feel panic rising again, squeezing your chest. 

“We’ll never abandon you, ñuha dāria” Aemond maneuvers his body so he can look into your eyes

“You are stuck with us, forever. We just care about your wellbeing” Osferth adds. 

You try to take a deep breath and calm yourself, to explain yourself better. 

“I know how well endowed you both are. I know it will be difficult, but not impossible. Please, I want this first with you two. I had been thinking about it for so long!”.

Your two lovers stare at one another, a silent dialog in their stare: your safety comes first, even before your desires, which don’t exist in a vacuum, they are not mindless sex machines, they too have needs and fears you have to acknowledge. It will kill them to know that they have hurt you just because they were being careless. 

You tell yourself all of this, trying to kill the anxiety burning in your belly. Even if they say no, they love you and denying you something comes from a place of love and care, not indifference. 

You feel anxiety spread like an itch you can’t scratch and hate that your mind is spiraling again, producing fears you seem incapable to squash.

“We’ll do it - Osferth tells you after what seemed to be centuries of wait - if we feel like something is wrong we stop”.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding, your mind gripping itself into reason.

“If we were to stop - Aemond turns your body to face you fully - is for your safety. It doesn’t mean we don’t love you or that we will not try again. You have to trust us on this”

“Yes, I know. Thank you. Thank you for giving me this” and you mean every word.

They kiss you, slow and gentle, their hands caress your body like it’s made of glass, like you are fragile, their gentle motions shaping your desire in something less urgent, like flames hiding under the ash that warm your whole body and lull your mind into calmness.

It’s their hands that move you into position, your ass up in the air and your face in the mattress, Aemond’s face close to yours, one hand holding yours as the other goes to your folds, fingers finding their way between your lips to caress the skin there, to play with your hole and clit; you moan, your nerves still remembering the recent assault of sensations, but you try to stay calm, to feel what Aemond is doing without urging him on, following his lead.

With the same gentleness, Osferth pours lube on your hole and starts preparing you; it’s easy, you had worn the big plug for so long your body is ready, still he takes his time to opening you up, just following the signals your body is giving him, the hand he has on your hip there to caress the skin and give you a sense of security.

You are a babbling mess by the time they decide you are ready, wet and loose and desperate for their touch again, your fingers holding Aemond’s hands grabbing desperately.

You hear Osferth groan as he prepares himself and your breath quickens in excitement, his hand like a brand on your hip. 

You both sigh when his head starts breaching you. It doesn’t matter how many plugs, or for how long he has prepared you, taking him makes you feel like he’s owning you, like he’s mastering your body into doing his bidding, your muscles trying to push him out, until they just give up and accept his assault, until he is fully seated and his hips are flush against your ass. You try to breath and to force all your muscles to relax around him: you feel so full and ready to feel him move, but he doesn’t, he just breaths in tandem with you until you are completely relaxed and then props your body up, slowly, until you are flush against him and Aemond can slide under you two.

Osferth is keeping your whole body up, making sure you are not fully sitting on him, your body can't sheat him that way or he'll hurt you. 

Aemond stares at you like you are a miracle, a goddess bestowing her presence on him, letting her body be ravished by a couple of heathens. 

"Are you still sure?" his cock hurts but you safety is paramount

"Yes Aemond, please" you answer, your voice strained, cunt wet and hungry. 

Slowly, your men position you over Aemond's erection and he pushes inside of you, a curse escaping his lips at how tight you are. He has to screw his eye to concentrate on not coming, your cunt like a fist around his erection and he feels like he is splitting you open, the added pressure of Osferth's cock in your ass driving him insane with the need of pistoning inside of you like a wild animal. The high pitched sounds you make don't help any of them to keep an iron grip on their own desires, you sound so lost, like a wounded animal and the darkest parts of them want more of that, more of how defenseless you are under their combined attack. 

Aemond breaching you feels like it's taking centuries, where you are made and unmade time and time again, until he is fully inside of you, long cock pushing just right against your G spot, the pressure inside of you bordering on unbearable: not even the toys had ever made you feel this way, utterly and completely possessed by your lovers, every inch of them marking you from the inside, ruining you and knitting you whole. For a second you can't breathe, your mind focused on their impressive cocks inside your holes; you have to remind yourself that you need air to survive, so you try to focus on them, to sync with them, who are as ruined as you are. 

"I can feel you two touching through me"

"It is divine. You are divine" Osferth tells you through gritted teeth

"Kessa, yes - you can hear the strain in Aemond's voice - perfect". 

They need to move but they wait, until your body feels more relaxed, your breath less ragged, the vise of your holes less tight. 

The only thing you can do is moan when they start to move, slow pulls and pushes, never leaving you empty, their cock hitting all the right spots that make you tremble in their arms, and open up even more. Desperate you seek their lips, your teeth their soft skin, needing to leave your mark on them the same way they are doing with you, their hands like manacles on your hips, moving your body to their leisure while you beg and keen like an animal.

They are both cursing at how good you feel wrapped around their cocks, the right amount of tightness that makes their eyes cross, the slapping of skin on skin like music for their ears. 

They just need a quick glance, before changing rhythm, entering and exiting you at the same time, pistoning with more vigor against your body and you scream, bloodcurdling sounds of pleasure and pain, your arms flailing, fingers seeking their skins, spit drooling from your mouth. If you felt full before, now the feeling has grown tenfold, their cocks the only thing you can feel, your body not yours anymore, plied open by your merciless lovers, your nerves screaming with the pleasure they are forcing on you. It feels like your insides are going to liquefy, to tear open to make space for your lovers, in reality your muscles are curling brutally around the cocks forcing you open, the pressure inside of you almost painful for them, your body completely lax and at their disposal, your lips attacked by theirs at the same time. You can’t think, only feel their bodies against yours, every inch of their erections against the velvet of your walls, separated by the thin layer of your skin, driving you insane.

Your orgasm arrives like a tornado, robbing you of whatever sanity you have left, your holes curling so brutally to force them to still and spill inside of you, until it hurts too much and they have to leave your body, their comes leaking obscenely from your holes.

You three fall on the bed, no strength left to support your weights, ungraceful and tired, limbs entwined, lips still seeking contact, hands caressing tired bodies. 

You feel worn out and weightless, burrowing in their embrace you laugh with happiness, even though you are so tired and ready to sleep. Your lovers are in no better shape, their muscles trembling with all the effort of taking you within an inch of your life, your laugh the balm to the tiredness they feel in their bones and the fear they felt when you sub dropped. 

Yes, you three are all supposed to clean up and then wash the toys and change the bedsheets, but there’s time for that, now basking in your shared happiness is the only thing that truly matters, and maybe a nap all dogpiled the way you three are now, anything else can wait.

Everythig taglist:  @ilikeitbetterangsty  

Poly taglist: @notyour-valentine , @fan-goddess , @aegonx

#aemond targaryen x reader x osferth #aemond targaryen x y/n x osferth #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #osferth x reader #osferth x y/n #osferth

[thebahwrites]

Omg please do Icemav and cuddling 😔

Icemav + Cuddling To read listening: I Don't Want to Miss a Thing - Aerosmith

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing

Watch you smile while you are sleeping

While you're far away and dreaming

1991

"There's a stray cat sleeping on your couch."

Most of the time Tom knew to shutter Ron's idle running commentary, not because he didn't care for what his friend had to say, he just had learned how to filter through what really mattered and then through what Slider liked to just fill silences in. But the sudden sentence does bring him up from the paperwork he'd been labouring over.

Blinking ever so slowly, staring up at Slider over the edges of his (newly acquired) glasses, Ice gives his friend a long, curious look before actually deciding to speak. "Come again?"

It was a cautious question. Ron usually knew better than to just mess with him, at least not without a backup plan but his RIO simply flashes back a big stupid grin, still leaning against the threshold of the office Tom had taken over. "You told me to stop by your place and drop the stuff Sarah made, right? So, there's a cat on your couch, you never told me you were keeping a pet."

It's the absolute edge of smarminess in Ron's voice that gives away he's messing with Tom in one way or another. Narrowing his eyes dangerously, Ice puts his pen down. "I, in fact, don't."

"Well then one got in, you should go check it." Slider turns around, giving Tom a pointed and amused look over his shoulder as he laughed away, getting on every single one of his nerves.

"Did you just let some random stray cat into my house, Ron? Ron!" Of course his protesting falls into deaf ears as the man laughs even louder, disappearing into the hallway and leaving Ice to angrily pinch the bridge of his nose, bristling with irritation at the idea of some random mutt making itself home. Of course that was the kind of insufferable thing that Slider thought funny — and the kind of menial nuisance that would force Ice to leave early and have it dealt with.

Which was precisely what happened, unable to focus on his damn desk work and everything else in between, excusing himself much earlier to deal with "personal issues" because Tom Kazansky would be damned to have some random pet wreaking havoc inside his house.

But as soon as he made through the front door, of course, he got Slider's stupid idea of a prank.

Cat on your couch translated to one Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell.

For a minute, Tom could only stand with his back pressed to the door, hand covering his mouth as he watched the other pilot deeply asleep. That messy jet black hair and soft expression he only ever got when resting, every other moment lived with the intensity of a burning sun. Pete hadn't even bothered to take off his uniform, though he had taken off the boots and left them by the entrance — in their ages long fight over dragging dirt into the house. All of that, soft memories into the sudden light of yearning, over three months apart due to some special detachment and that's just how soft Maverick managed to make the coldest man in the U.S. Navy.

Tom finds he needs another moment to just sit there and watch the man asleep before forcing himself to move, shedding his jacket by a chair and leaning in, trying not to disturb the other man, letting his knee press into the very edge of the couch cushioning so he could actually take in what he was seeing. Inspecting every line as if to make sure he'd come back all alright, all in one stupid piece.

Maverick's hand shoots up before Iceman can even blink and lazily, weakly, wraps itself around the front of his shirt. He's otherwise undisturbed, not even the soft edges around his eyes have shifted, much to Tom's pleasure, he's tugged down. "C'mere." Pete's voice is all syrupy with exhaustion and Ice simply obliges, letting himself be dragged down and then finding his body sliding into his couch, pressed besides and half over Maverick's.

He knows, much like a cat, Pete won't let him up for at least another hour, so instead of accepting being simply dragged Tom adjusts their position, manhandling the smaller man so he's beneath him and their bodies are properly slotted together. Like they were meant to, he thought to himself with that kind of possessive, protective internal hum that sometimes reared its ugly head. Arms coming around to properly bracket Maverick, feeling the man's warm breath against the crook of his neck.

"Ice." Pete mumbles, as they're settled and Tom was maybe on his own slow lull to a nap.

"What?"

"Your boots are still on."

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

(Send me warmup prompts if you want! Any ships!)

#iceman x maverick #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #ron slider kerner #maverick x iceman #writing warmups #top gun fanfic #short fic #abt: my writing #tg86 #//i love them your honor

[asukamood]

Apology to Deaf Ears (DT Twins)

***

I was literally writing the next chapter of my Cold Front fic when I woke up on the 24th with such a good angst idea for the twins that I broke down first thing in the morning.

(Note: I am not blaming any of the twins for what happened to them, which is not the case for the twins themselves. Do keep in mind that at the time of this story, the twins were both 5 and it is normal for children like them to act immaturely and blame the wrong people, especially seeing the environment they are living in.)

With that said, enjoy your reading!

***

Warnings: Suicide (stabbing), blood, heavy angst for both twins, hints of physical abuse

Synopsis: Nightmare had never understood why the characters in his novels always felt sick at the sight of blood. He was covered in his own blood every day, yet it never made him throw up. Now he understood, he understood too well.

***

If there was someone who Nightmare particularly resented, apart from himself, it was Dream.

He hated the way people loved him so much, what did he even do to deserve all the attention anyway? What did he have that Nightmare lacked?

He hated the way protecting the Tree has fallen on his shoulders alone while Dream was playing around. Why was he allowed to slack off while Nightmare had to do both their jobs alone, as injured as one could be?

He hated how naive the other was, always falling for Nightmare’s stupid lies when he was asked about his injuries. How could he have gotten this hurt by simply falling off a branch? Was Dream just stupid or did he simply not care about Nightmare? The latter would bet the correct supposition was the second explanation.

He hated how mocking the other’s hollow ‘I love you’ sounded. He hated how he had to live in the other’s shadow. He was as good as his brother, hell, maybe he was even better! He just could not understand. Why not him?

But above all, he hated the way he nagged him by spending time with him and showing off how much happier he was than Nightmare, like he was doing currently.

“Get off.” He hissed, pushing Dream away from himself. That day, his brother had been particularly clingy and happy, for some reason determined to annoy him as long as humanly possible.

Seriously, he had even declined to spend time with his friends to annoy him more, how unhinged did he have to be to think of something like that?

The other let out a playful whine of protest but refrained from attempting to hug him again. A detail that Nightmare failed to notice at the time.

“Can we play then? It has been so long since we last played Tag You’re It!” Dream suggested, a wide grin spread across his cheeks as he seemed to reminisce about the old times. It made Nightmare sick.

With gritted teeth, he replied that he was not in the mood to play and would rather read. Dream’s bright smile did not leave his lips at the other’s refusal. If anything, it just got brighter.

Oh, there we go, something he hated and forgot to mention.

The way the other never took anything badly.

Nightmare would kill to be that way.

How foolish.

“Can you read me a story then? Last time we--”

“No.” He cut him off with a glare, making the other blink. At Nightmare’s expression, his smile turned into a worried frown.

“Did I say something wrong? Why do you look so angry?” He tilted his head to the side in confusion, somehow only managing to piss the other off even more.

“Because you’re annoying me.” He replied coldly, picking up the last book he had been reading off the ground. With his eyes fixed on the object, he could no longer see Dream’s expression. Not like it interested him. “Can’t you find someone else to bother?”

“I like spending time with you though.” A pause. “And you know I love--”

“And I hate you.” He flipped the page he was reading, noticing the way the other had stopped talking.

He looked back to him, Dream’s grin welcoming him back to reality.

He hated that lack of reaction too, he just said that he hated him, and he was smiling? He was right after all, Dream really did not care about how he saw him. Why would he? He had all those oh so wonderful friends, why would he care about that loser he called his brother?

If Nightmare had paid more attention, maybe he would have noticed how sad that smile really looked. He would have noticed how it did not reach his eyes.

“What are you still doing here?” He snapped, sending him yet another glare. “Are you going to gawk at me like that for long? I don’t want to see you anymore, just go.”

“... Okay.” He got up, making Nightmare focus back onto his book. He was most likely going to the village anyway, there was no reason for him to see where he was going.

***

A few hours later, Nightmare started to feel bad about what he said.

He had been angry at that moment, but Dream was still his brother, he could not just tell him that he hated him like that. Nightmare looked up at the sky, deducing that it was the afternoon.

Honestly, he found it odd how the villagers had yet to come bother him but for once, he allowed himself to hope that the peace would last a bit more.

He closed the book, putting it into its usual place next to him--

...

Something was under it.

Nightmare raised an eyebrow as he picked it back up, his eyes widening once he recognized Dream’s circlet. Did he forget it when he left? Nightmare shrugged; he will just give it back to him after he apologized.

He would not come back until the evening anyway, which gave him plenty of time to plan what he would say to him.

He let his head rest on the tree, slowly drifting off to sleep.

***

When he woke up, the sight of wrinkling stars in the night sky welcomed him back. He had always loved looking at the stars, it reminded him of the good days without the villagers around.

He turned to his side, expecting to see his younger brother.

He froze when there was no sign of him.

“Dream?” He called out in surprise, standing up and looking around the tree and up the branches. No one.

Nightmare frowned.

That was unusual, no matter how long Dream stayed at the village, he had always come back once the sun had set. He once said that his favorite thing was to come back home after the night began.

Maybe he was still a bit busy? Nightmare sat down against the tree, waiting to see his brother’s silhouette approach the tree.

***

All the lights in the village had gone out by now.

Yet, Dream was still nowhere to be seen.

Nightmare did not want to admit it, but he was worried, very worried. He got up from the tree again and reluctantly dragged his feet to the village. He had no want to step into that place, knowing that if he were caught, he would go through hell and back, but there was only so much he could do.

He let out a long breath as he passed the gate. No scream, that was a good sign.

A man in the tavern’s balcony was sprawled on a table, an alcohol bottle in hand. Seeing no one else around, Nightmare decided to risk talking to him.

He tapped his shoulder and the grown-up groaned as he was shaken awake, looking over to who woke him up. He glared at Nightmare once he recognized him, slurring something about killing him if he did not get out of his sight. Nightmare ignored the threat, instead asking where he had last seen Dream.

Thankfully for the child, the older man was far too wasted to bother swinging at him. So wasted, in fact he was pleasant enough to answer his question.

“How the fuck should I know?” He hiccupped, taking another sip of the beverage. “That brat did not show up today.” He hit the table with his fist, frustrated. “If it was not for him staying with your sorry ass, my other house would have been finished by now.”

Nightmare could feel his heart drop in his stomach, the rest of the man’s complaints getting lost in the wind.

Dream never went to the village?

Ditching the man, the young boy raced to the entrance of the village, his head filled with Dream’s possible whereabouts. He was neither at the tree nor at the village. Besides these two locations, there was the forest and the cliff. But if he was in those areas, why did he go there in the first place?

And more importantly, why was he still not back?

His breathing sped up.

What if he was in danger?

He shook his head, pinching his wrist. He winced but, in the end, he was able to forcefully calm down. Panicking would not help him find Dream.

These two areas were big, so he had better get started now.

The closest area to the village was the forest, he would get started there.

He ran between two trees, looking around every tree and yelling Dream’s name as he did so, hoping the other would eventually answer his calls or show up.

When he was met with no answer, he walked deeper into the forest, desperation now laced with his voice. The forest was quiet, far too quiet to be normal.

Still nothing.

He was running now, yelling his name even louder than he already was. He could feel his vocal cords straining in his throat, but he could not care less then, too focused on the task.

Eventually, as he was starting to lose hope, he finally caught a glimpse of orange behind a tree. The boy heaved out a sigh of relief before being overtaken by anger. If he was right there, why did he not answer his calls?

“Dream!” He shouted as he walked over to the tree, said one’s cape getting closer. “Why did you not come back? Do you know how worried I--”

As he finally walked around the tree, Dream’s lightless eyes and the knife planted in his chest finally came into view.

The next thing Nightmare knew was that he saw himself throw up nearby, trembling as he turned back toward Dream. There was so much blood.

Nightmare had never understood why the characters in his novels always felt sick at the sight of blood. He was covered in his own blood every day, yet it never made him throw up. Now he understood, he understood too well.

“Dream...?” He approached the other, slowly. That... he was still asleep, right? It could not be real. He crouched down next to him, his fingertips brushing his shoulder. He was cold. Why was he so cold?

“Hey, why are you not saying anything?” He shook him. “That’s not funny anymore, come on Dream, let’s go home.”

The other’s head fell awkwardly on his shoulder, a few strands of his hair covering his eyes. Apart from that, no reaction was given to Nightmare’s words or actions.

He shook him again, tears welling up in his eyes. “Stop scaring me! You said you would come back home no matter what! We even promised to never leave each other!”

“We promised!” He repeated, as if to enhance the importance of a promise.

However, he could scream as much as he wanted, there was no bringing back a dead soul.

At last, he finally broke into hysterical sobs as he held onto the corpse of his brother like his life depended on it. “We can play as much as you want, I can read you as many stories as you like! We can hug whenever you want! I won’t push you away anymore, I promise!”

“So please...” His voice broke as he cupped the other’s cold cheek, trying so hard to feel any kind of warmth coming from the other’s skin. “Say something, anything. Don’t leave me alone...”

Silence.

“I...” He hiccupped. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I didn’t mean it, I swear! I love you too. Even if I may have been frustrated at you sometimes, you’re still my brother, I could never hate you!”

He buried his face in his neck as he sobbed. “Please don’t make me bury my best friend, I’m sorry for being such a bad brother. I promise to make it up to you just give me a chance, please.”

His pleads were ignored and so were his apologies.

Oh, how cruel the gods were.

In a last attempt to get some sort of reaction out of the other, he brought his hand to his level. From it, a piece of paper fell.

With a shaky hand, he managed to retrieve what Dream was holding in his fist. He opened the ball, revealing an exact replica of a silly drawing of themselves when they were still satisfied with one another in the world.

A messy Tree of Feelings labelled “Home” stood in the background with yellow and black ovals littering the leaves to represent their respective apples. In front of it, two figures with questionable anatomies stood beside each other, holding hands.

One of them was wearing a light blue-sky outfit and a round circlet and the other a purple outfit with a crescent moon engraved on the head garment.

There was only one difference: if the original drawing had both figures smiling from ear to ear, this one had Dream smiling and Nightmare wearing an angry frown.

At that instant, with tears falling down the paper, Nigthmare wanted nothing more than to tear away that angry-looking figure from the smiling one and burn its remains.

#angst #dream sans #utmv dream #dreamtale #nightmare utmv #utmv fanfic #utmv #utmv au #nightmare sans #passive nightmare sans #dreamtale twins #pre apple incident #apple twins