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luveline · 9 months

Note

id love to see eddie and a shy!reader at a concert. r is overwhelmed with the crowd and eddie is being his usual lovely reassuring self

love you sm!

ty for ur request! —eddie insists on taking care of you when you get overwhelmed in the middle of a concert. fem!reader, 1.3k

"This is insane, right?" Eddie asks. Or, yells.

The ground thumps with music. The drum feels as though it's being beaten against your own chest, heat at every angle, lights flashing above and roaming downward. You blink against the purples and blues, your hand sweaty in Eddie's.

"I'm sorry!" you shout, nodding down at your joined hands.

Eddie tucks a limp curl behind his ear. "I'm gonna give you the sweatiest kiss anyone's ever given!"

"Gross," you say, a half second before Eddie's pressing his lips to yours. You can feel the vibrations of the instruments through his skin. It almost tickles, but Eddie's rough touch helps.

It's a nice kiss, but there's so much going on. The crowd swells with a unanimous cheer as one song ends and another begins. Eddie yanks himself away from you to grin at the performance, whooping as his favourite guitarist takes centre stage for an intro. You gulp in dank air, the person standing behind you treading on your shoes for the tenth time in as many minutes, the person to your right smelling of pot and beer, sticky thick.

A firm arm curls around you. "You wanna go up on my shoulders?" Eddie asks. He must be pumping with adrenaline, his kisses quick and plentiful over your cheek as you attempt to answer.

"As if, Eds."

"What, you don't think I can get you up there?"

"I know you can't."

Eddie visibly registers your shifting mood. "Hey," he says, giving your shoulders a jog, "are you okay? You look like you're having a whitey without the smoke, babe!"

"I'm okay, I…" You blink sweat from your eyes. "I'm really hot."

"Take your jacket off, baby. I can hold it for you."

You shrug out of your damp jacket but feel the same. Still, when Eddie says, "Better?" you smile and wrap your arm around his.

"I'm good. Now shut up! This is my favourite one!"

You're not telling the truth, but your enthusiasm fools him. Eddie slides an arm behind your back and you hug each other from the side to sing along. You like the music and you love Eddie, you're not interested in ruining the precious couple of hours you have here tonight. You can grin and bear it. You have been for a while.

Or, you think you can, but you feel something warm on your leg, and you know it's just beer spilled from a crushed plastic cup, but your ears ache as the drum solo starts and fireworks burst at the front of the stage less than forty feet away. The crowd closes in. It's too much.

"Eddie, I think," —he turns to look at you, eyes sparkling— "I need to go to the bathroom. Okay?"

"I'll come with you!"

"No! No, stay here, we'll never get this close to the front again!"

"Are you kidding? What if something happened to you? I'd lose my mind!" Eddie nudges you toward the back of the venue. "Babe, I know the kind of creeps that hang around, I'm not letting you go by yourself!"

You're sick of shouting at him to be heard. "No, I'll hold it!" You won't ruin his night. "I'm okay, I– I swear!"

"Don't be stupid, let's go! It'll be nice to have a break from Doctor Marten," he says, looking quickly behind his shoulder at the perpetrator in question, the guy who keeps nipping your ankles with his thick gummy soles.

You shake your head. Eddie shakes his head back at you incredulously, twining your fingers together as he starts to fight his way through the crowd, dragging you with him. People are ten times as likely to let you move backwards rather than toward the front, and soon the air is cooling, your skin damp and cold as the fresh breeze finally reaches you. The crowd thins. You can stretch your arms out without touching anyone for the first time in nearly an hour.

The relief is enough to have you closing your eyes, savouring the sudden lack of input.

Eddie pulls your hand between both of his, calluses and rings and all the things you love about him scratching your hands as he squeezes you. "Feel better?"

You should've known he knew. Nodding sheepishly, you say, "Yeah."

Your breathlessness must endear you to him. Eddie's on you like a rash. Your jacket slips where it's tucked under his arm, but he doesn't let go of your hand, stepping with one foot between yours, his long hair brushing your chest as he closes the space between you.

"It's a lot, I get it," he says. His voice is rough from yelling, scratchy as hewn stone. "I meant to bring you those ear plugs and I forgot. I'm sorry."

"That's not your responsibility," you say, frowning.

He smiles at you. "You're my girl, aren't you? I look after you 'n' I like doing it." Eddie laughs, the sort of laugh that says, I'm really happy, I love you, and it's easy.

Or maybe you just want it to say that. Regardless, he bumps his forehead into yours and closes his eyes for a few seconds, rubbing your fingers between his mindlessly. "Take a minute. Chill. We can stay on the outskirts for the rest of the night if you need to."

You can deal with being uncomfortable, just not to the level you had been. That was dire. This is fine.

"Sorry for losing our spot," you say, pulling away from him.

"Sorry for putting you in a tough one, babe. How do you feel now? Any better?"

"Yeah, definitely." You pull your elbow up to wipe your burning cheeks.

"Better enough for a very public and disgusting kiss?" he asks.

"How disgusting?" you ask.

"Tongue, for sure."

"That's not that bad."

"Didn't say where, did I?" he asks.

"If you lick my ear I'm gonna have to go hide in the girls bathroom," you warn, flushing at the thought of it alone.

Eddie doesn't give you the kiss he threatened you with, only throws his arms over your shoulders to cup your head, lips pressed to your temple. He rubs your shoulders, and after a moment he starts to sway you both from side to side in time with the slightly less hectic song being performed by the band.

"Chill out," he murmurs. "I don't care where we're standing if I get to stand with you, loser."

You hug his back. You're uncomfortably warm still, but his touch is a remedy for the general frazzle of white noise that had been fizzing between your ears.

"Come on, let's go back," you say. The band starts on a song you know Eddie loves, you've heard it enough.

"I wanna be like, oh, no, I can't tear myself away from you, but I really fucking love this one," Eddie says. He gives you no less than six apology kisses against the bridge of your nose before spinning on his heel to usher you back toward the crowd. Not in the throng of it, but at least you're facing the right way. "Whoo!" he yells.

"Play it louder!" you shout, knowing no one can hear your individual voice over the cacophony. "My boyfriend loves this one!"

"I love this one!" Eddie shouts at the top of his lungs.

Your heart lifts at his huge, beaming smile. All the sweat and noise and raw ankles are worth it just to see him this ridiculously happy. He makes it easier, checking in on you periodically for the rest of the night, and persuading you to leave a little early to escape the rush. When he swings your tired arms between your bodies and declares it the best night ever, you know you can keep on coming to gigs no matter how crazy they get.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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bigassmoonchild · 8 months

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Lost and Found

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: The results came back, the pregnancy results. You fear losing Simon, even after your talk and he holds you close. Things slowly go back to normal, but by god was Simon starting to smell a little too good. And the scent was coming from his door.

Content Tags: Angst, Almost Pregnancy Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Simon Communicating, DROPPING THE L WORD (leprosy), Simon likes compound drama, Mentions of Masturbation, Use of Pet-Names, Teasing, No Use of Y/N, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha! Ghost

A/N: I'm working one day a week because they only need me one day a week. I might quit, ngl. Anyways, I'm getting better! Not as sick! I'm going to figure out at better way for people to navigate the maple syrup series, but you know the drill. Content under the cut and asks are open!

Part 1 | Previous, Next | Headcannons, Masterlist

The next few days felt incredibly slow. You'd worked on a bit of paperwork before heading back to your rooms and sitting in your nest, going through the clothes you were intending to give back to Simon because the scent was growing stale. As you were folding one of the last hoodies, a knock on your door made you pause.

Opening it, you saw a soldier standing outside. He gave you a salute before looking down and reading off of the paper he was holding.

"Your presence is required in room 62B. Please be presentable and there within the half hour," he handed you the paper and marched away. Glancing at it, they were requesting you for more questioning based on the hearing you'd been part of.

Shit.

You stood and dug through the wardrobe you had, pulling out a few of your better shirts and pants. At this point, you didn't really care what you wore. So long as it wasn't dirty and didn't have any rips or holes.

Reading the door numbers down to 62B, you took a deep breath before entering, nodding at the few people who were sitting, glancing past Price. You sat, folding your hands on your lap as the people across the table looked at you. They shifted, glancing from the door to you for a few minutes.

"We're just waiting for Riley, you needn't be so stiff, Doctor," you looked away from them, finding Prices eye before looking the other way. You just wanted to get this over with, they hadn't even notified you about your test, so the fact that they only told them about it was weird.

The door opened, and all you could smell was Simon. Leather and tobacco, hints of the gunpowder used on base came through. It smelled muskier, though, and as much as you could smell it wasn't sweat. Not like normal.

He sat beside you, not looking in your direction. The people in front of you shifted the papers about on the table, looking between each other. They didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"The pregnancy test came back," you heard Simon scoff beside you, a quiet 'no shit' coming from him. You rolled your own eyes, glancing down to the carpet under you. It was old, probably older than you.

The man cleared his throat. "It came back positive, at least at first," you looked up, brows furrowing. "After a few minutes, though, it turned negative. We did a few more tests and they eventually came back negative. Conclusively," you closed your eyes, head tilting back.

Why were you feeling so disappointed? Were you actually somewhat excited about having a pup, even if Simon didn't want it?

"Although, they did find some hormones synchronous with what is called a 'false pregnancy'," they explained, reading off of the sheet they had.

You glanced up, watching as they tried to find a way to explain it. "My body had hormones, probably from a fertilized egg that never attached properly, and it left my hormones thinking I was pregnant. They never cleared my body, so my scent and body was changing to prep for the pup," you explained, playing with your fingers.

So close, and yet you were so far from having a pup. You could almost smell distress on Simons scent, but you didn't want to go into the specifics. You couldn't think of his normal scent, not with how deep in your head you'd become.

You could faintly hear them explaining the outcomes, faintly heard a few 'probable cause for the attack' and a few other 'nothing is being pressed,' and finally you came to.

"We're considering this almost exactly the same as if the Omega was actually pregnant," they explained. "So you're getting off on just about the same as a slap on the wrist, but don't think we won't add this to your file," and you stood, turning and walking out.

There was nothing you'd realized you wanted more. A family. A pup to care for and watch grow and eventually maybe, just maybe, add more to your little family.

But no, you didn't have the luxury of that. No, you weren't allowed to have your family, your Alpha had been so mad at you and possibly didn't want you sometimes.

Alpha doesn't want a broken Omega.

You had to fight the tears you could feel building, jaw locking in place as you found yourself moving to your room. A few more halls, one or two more turns and you'd be able to curl up in your nest and hope to God that your Alpha would still want you.

As you went to close your room door, something stopped it from closing. You turned to figure it out, slightly pissed off that it happened. Simon.

"I'm sorry," you could feel tears starting to run out of your eyes, felt him pulling you into his chest and sobs tearing out of your chest. "I'm so sorry," you were muffled by his chest, hands grasping at his shirt and holding tight. You could faintly hear the door close, your legs moving with him as he dropped you back into your nest.

Simon pulled you into his chest, hands running along your back. Your hands never left his chest and you could hear him murmuring into your hair.

"S'alright, lovie, s'alright," he whispered, arms wrapping around your back to pull you in as close as he could. It felt like everything was back to normal but nothing was. Everything was changed but nothing was at the same time.

For what felt like hours, you laid there, grasping at Simon to stay where you were. He rubbed at your back and chuffed into your ear, your tears slowing and sobs breaking into hiccups, breathing slowing as you laid there.

His hands stopped, albeit slowly, before pulling you back to look at him.

"Y'alright?" He asked this time, wiping your face dry. You nodded, then shook your head before dropping it back onto his chest.

"'m sorry, Simon," you whispered, his hand finding your back and resting there. "Failed you," you added finally. He hummed in confusing, head lifting to look down at you.

You swallowed, closing your eyes. "Lost the pup," he shook his head, squeezing you a little. He ran his hand down your arm, rubbing it slowly.

"Didn't lose anything, lovie," he whispered. "Your body was just confused, it's not your fault," you wanted to argue with him, wanted to tell him he was crazy. You lost the pup, and he should get rid of you.

He kept murmuring loving words into your ears, telling you how good of an Omega you were, how much he cared about you. How much he adored that you were his and didn't want to leave.

"Love you, y'know that?" He whispered, hours having passed since the two of you found yourselves inside your nest. He slid you into his hoodie within the first hour, let you lay there and inhale his scent.

You hummed, fighting sleep. It hadn't hit you what he'd said, not yet at least.

"Love y'too," you whispered into his neck, breathing slowing as you were falling asleep. He loved you, Alpha loves you, your head snapped up. "Huh?" Simon barked out a short laugh, pulling his mask from his face as he looked at you.

"Y'didn't hear me?" You blinked slowly at him, smile slowly spreading on your face. His voice grew softer, eyes drifting away from you. He seemed almost, nervous. "Y'forgive me?" He whispered, hands tightening on you.

You nodded, dropping your head on him. "Thought you would've thought of me as a bad Omega," you whispered. "Thought I'd lost you after I said I might be pregnant, then again when they told us I wasn't," he shook his head.

He gave a humorless laugh. "Never lost me," he said. "'m not good at emotions," he started, looking down at you briefly. "Never was, never will be. I want to try, though, try and make sure you never feel like that again," he spoke into the side of your head, pressing his lips against your head.

You swallowed thickly.

"Thought I lost everything," you whispered into his neck, closing your eyes.

You glanced at your new squad, looking them over.

"If you don't want to be led by an Omega, leave. Get out, I don't want to see your face," you said, glancing amongst them. "If you don't like that I'm leading you, get the hell out. I don't want to see you, if you're going to cause problems, get out," you said.

No one moved, looking down at their boots and away from you. Nobody said anything, it all remained quiet. You smiled, arms crossed as you watched them stand still.

You crossed your arms, glancing amongst them. "The only problem I've ever encountered is you guys not understanding what it means to be a soldier. Combat medic, combat comes first," you told them. "Which means you're a soldier first,"

You sighed deeply, rubbing the migraine out of your temples. They were the worst group you'd ever had. They seemed to not have any knowledge on anything medical, and even less knowledge about combat awareness.

"Bad day?" Simon asked, placing a tray of food in front of you and putting his own on the side of your desk closest to him. You groaned at him, dropping your head down.

You glanced up, watching him pull the mask off of his face and place it next to his food, scooping some of it into his mouth. You snorted softly, watching him.

His brows raised in questioning. "We went from me absolutely despising you just a few days ago to you eating in my office," you laughed softly. "Anyways, I have the worst squad ever," you groaned and he paused his eating.

"They saying things?" He said, moving to stand and you hushed him, hands gesturing for him to sit back down.

In the few days since you two had been cleared back to work, he had made it a habit to bring you at least two meals during your shift. Usually lunch and dinner, which he had at the same time as you, quite thankfully.

You'd grown to begin telling him tales of what happened, whatever drama you could find that happened throughout the day. Oh my god, Simon, apparently Amanda now has an Alpha? And he works on another force, I think something air, you told him the first night.

Surprisingly, he was really interested in what was happening around base. Today, though, he appeared a little more out of it. He seemed slightly off, watching you closer and staring down Alphas who walked by you when he just so happened to be near.

It was weird, but you hadn't put too much thought into it. You were finally back to a normal, something the two of you were putting together. Maybe it was just his new normal, but you weren't going to ask questions.

He stayed quiet, giving you a few murmurs of agreement or interest at all of the new things you'd discovered. Once the two of you finished, instead of sitting with you until you were finished to walk with you back to your room he grabbed your trays and walked out, giving you a short murmur about needing to workout or something.

It left you a little confused, but you weren't going to mention it. You knew this took up a lot of his own time, and you knew that he would want to spend some time on his own to relax.

You felt the same way, but something was off and you could tell. By the time you finished putting away the last paper into its file, it was nearing 10 at night. You walked to your room, bag in hand as you watched the door numbers slowly shrink to your room number.

As you entered it, you'd been expecting to see Simon there, but maybe tonight he just wanted to relax in his own room and take some time to chill out. You understood, and found yourself slowly going through the motions of your nightly routine, some part of you hoping he would walk in right before you finished this part. Then it became this part, then the next.

Eventually, you were curled in your bed, lights all out while listening for movements outside. You found yourself waking up the next morning, groaning as you turned off your alarm clock. Simon never came to your room, but that was okay you told yourself.

It was fine, because everyone needed a moment to themselves here and there. So you began your routine, getting something small to eat as you walked through the clinic, checking on people who had come in overnight to be treated for something.

You ran your training, having the squad work on taking care of those who were harmed and trying to tourniquet them.

"I'm bleeding out, help me! Aaah! It hurts so much, I'm writhing in pain!" Soap was all too pleased to help you with this. Gaz was helping as well, but had stopped his acting to roll on the ground laughing at him. It seemed to work just as well as Johnny's screaming and writhing.

Shutting your eyes tight, you had to hold yourself silent to keep from laughing too hard or distracting everyone. Even as your back was turned, you could hear little squeals coming from Johnny, but as you opened your eyes you saw Ghost watching from a distance.

Gesturing him over, he shook his head and turned back to his own training group, leaning over to shout at someone. You sighed, turning around to watch the group once more.

"Steph, no, that tourniquet is way too tight, I can see it from here. You're cutting the blood flow off, not his leg,"

At lunch you grew a little worried when Simon didn't show up. He had been making sure to bring you food (and letting you watch him eat) every lunch and dinner. Sometimes it was breakfast instead of lunch, but he hadn't come during breakfast.

It took you a few moments before you decided to try and find him, but everyone you spoke to had turned away from you, telling you that it was in your better interest to leave him alone. When you found Gaz again, you pulled him to the side.

"What's up with S- Ghost?" You asked and he looked away, grimacing a little. "Go on, tell me. I'm his mate, it's not like he's doing something that would kill me," you said, brows furrowing as he didn't say anything.

You gestured for him to tell you. "He's been really violent today. Look outside, there's more people running than usual, and his temper is getting the better of him," he whispered, looking around like Simon would jump out of nowhere.

At dinner, when Simon didn't show up you found yourself walking the compound to look for him. To find out where he'd gone, or what was wrong. He wasn't anywhere you'd expected him to be, not the gym or field.

Walking to his room, it was a few halls before when the scent hit you hard. Leather and tobacco, some hints of the gunpowder used on base. You walked a little closer, musky tangs of something just entirely Simon breaking through.

Standing outside of his door, you stared at it. Hearing long groans and whines, huffs of your name. Trying the door, it was locked and everything in the room paused.

A bang on the door made you jump back before leaning in. "Simon?" You whispered, trying the doorknob again. He whined at the sound of his name coming from you, and you could hear nails on the door.

"Please," he whispered back, voice muffled by the door. You could hear another bang on the door and you gave a little laugh.

"Y'gotta unlock the door first, Alpha," a growl came from behind the door.

Tag List:

@sae1kie @shinebright2000 @zechie-spams @itsmadamehydra @smiley-roos @enrapturedbythemoon

If I forgot you, please send me a message, reply or ask. I apologize for any mistakes in the Tag List, I'm trying to get it all organized.

#angst #hurt/comfort #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare ii #task force 141 #ghost mw2 #no use of y/n #simon riley #call of duty #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #teasing #pet-names #dropping the L word #Maple Syrup

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

So Much to Lose (series) Part 1

Series summary: Newly settled into Jackson city and forced to go on patrols with the miserable Joel Miller sets off a chain of events and encounters that have you questioning everything, including your own heart.

Rating: 18+

pairings: Joel Miller x Reader, Ellie x Dina

Series warnings: set during outbreak, guns, Mean!Joel, eventual rough sex (specific tags that comes up) no use of Y/N or detailed physical descriptions.

Patrols were never your thing. You'd thought them more for the super athletic, the expert marksmen, the naturally ruthless.

You were a decent shot. Nothing to write home about. You'd shot animals when you were starving and on the run.

But patrolling the walls of Jackson City was always someone else's gig. Something for people not as "soft".

So when Maria told you that your name was on the roster for that month you'd been surprised.

"But I'm always on kitchen duty."

"We have new folks coming into Jackson," Maria explained, her tone brusque and her eyes weary. "None of them have weaponry experience. You do."

"Barely.

"Barely's better than nothing."

Then she'd moved from you, obviously busy with a myriad of planning and scheduling. You watched her leave, her hand resting over her swollen belly.

You were relatively new to Jackson City, barely six months living behind its sheltered walls. You didn't feel you had earned the right to disagree with Maria or to challenge her ideas.

You've stayed close to home since you're arrival, still not quite used to the life that bustled around you in the market or the dances (real dances!) in the church hall. You don't have friends here yet despite your natural propensity to others. You smile and you greet when faces pass you in the street, but your home is where it's safe.

You suppose this is why you enjoy kitchen duty. Moving around large groups of people, overhearing snatches of conversation of laughter of warmth, but always on the perimeter. Always watching, never engaging on the edges.

Maybe you are more naturally suited for patrols than you originally thought.

But not with weaponry. Shooting your old decommissioned gun is one thing. Using the heavy weapons you see being touted on the broad backs of those heading off on patrol is quite another.

When you see Tommy, one of the nicest people you know (and Maria's husband), walking by your place later that week you hasten to catch up with him.

"It's been years since I shot anything," you explain with a concerned saddle of your brows as you explain Maria's plan for you. "And back then it was only rabbits and deer. Can you just come over and give me some pointers?"

"Can't. Got lots to do to prep for the baby."

Of course, the baby, due any day. The reason for Maria's desperate need to schedule the coming months, and the weary pull of Tommy's eyes as he looks at you.

"But I'll find someone and send em over," Tommy adds when he sees the terror cross your features.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll have your patrol partner come and give you some help tomorrow afternoon. We usually team up the newbies with the more experienced marksman anyway. I'll check with Maria and see who you're paired up with."

Relief blooms in your chest at this. This is the kind of news that you have been hoping for.

The thought that the safety and survival of others would depend solely on you or come down on your shoulders had been making you sick.

"Great."

///

You made cookies.

For whatever reason that had felt like the appropriate response to having someone come over and teach you how to properly shoot a gun.

This person, your patrol partner, will be the first to enter your home since you moved in. Maria and Tommy had been there, explaining the expectations of you in the community and showing you the simple one bedroom home that would be yours. All you'd been able to think over and over as they spoke was: a bed of my own. I don't have to share.

Your place is humble but clean. You've tossed around the idea of painting the walls themselves but you don't. That feels too permanent and you've not known the security of stability in decades. It sits uneasily on your shoulders like a too-heavy jacket.

There's a knock at your door and you open it to reveal a tall man with broad shoulders and remarkably expressive eyes. His mouth is set uneasily, as if he's trying to remember what it is to talk.

"You the one that needed gun lessons?"

He's wearing a dark green jacket and on his back is a collection of shotguns that you find intimidating just looking at.

"That's me," you chirp, moving back so he can enter into your home. You introduce yourself, a bit surprised at how the broad man stays hanging by the door.

"Joel," he mutters when you prompt him for his name. "Let's do this outside."

"Sure," you say going to grab your jacket from its hook by the door. "Oh, but did you want a cookie first? I made some."

Joel stares at you for a moment, trying to gauge if you're serious. When he sees you are, he blinks and then starts to walk around to the stretch of greenery near your place.

You follow after him, pulling on your jacket and jogging to keep up.

"Hey Miller," someone calls out from the street and you look over at him in surprise. Joel gives them a small wave and keeps walking.

Miller. Like Tommy and Maria Miller?

"Are you Tommy's brother?"

"Guilty."

Joel walks quickly, his legs scissoring rapidly across the fallen leaves of the cool winter day and easily outpacing you.

Cute, you think, watching his body lope away from you. Intense but cute.

///

Around the five minute mark you realize that no, Joel isn't intense or cute.

He's just a fucking asshole.

He's impatient and grouchy and even though you're trying your hardest to follow instructions you're failing miserably because he is so intimidating.

"You need to familiarize yourself with your weapon," he tells you, brandishing the shotgun and handing it to you. It's heavy in your palms, surprising you.

You grip it loosely, twisting it in your hand to aim at the ground. As you do this, the barrel of the gun swings in his direction.

"Are you insane?" Joel barks, slapping the nozzle away from his direction. "Have you never held a fucking shotgun before?"

He'd been so quiet before that the loud boom of his voice startles you. You take a step back without thinking, sure to keep your barrel pointed at the ground.

You don't bother telling him that no, you've never held a shotgun. You have a feeling that would just piss him off more.

It doesn't get better after that.

"How did they put you on patrols with aim like that?"

You scowl, bringing the gun up to your shoulders to brace. You begin to count as you aim at the tin cans Joel set up. You've hit one out of the six. You attribute much of this to the tall man pacing back and forth behind you as you try to focus. But he terrifies you, and you feel compelled to keep him in the corner your sights until he pauses and you can focus again.

You stare at the dented soup cans resting on the fence post away from you. You can almost hear Dev's soft voice in your ear. The calming sooth of his tone.

"Count if it helps...shoot on three."

"One... two..." you mutter under your breath.

"You're not gonna have time to count when a clicker's coming for your throat," Joel instructs you. "You have to be instinctual. Gotta move fast."

He kicks at your ankles, broadening your stance. You flinch at the pain of his boot against your ankle bone.

"You should be wearin' boots," Joel instructs when he sees you wince in pain. "Sneakers are no good."

"Obviously I would wear boots on patrol," you seethe. "I just figured for practice-"

"You should be wearing what you'll be patrolling in. Don't wear that scarf either."

You pause, looking down to see just your dark blue jacket. "What scarf?"

Joel pauses. "That red one I saw hangin' in your house. It's bright. You'll stand out."

You frown before raising the gun to brace snugly against your shoulder.

For the next hour Joel's voice reaches out, punctuating the air with bits of aggressive sounding advice as you fumble.

"Non-firing hand on the hand stock."

"Finger on the stock behind the trigger guard with the rest of your fingers."

"Cheek tight to the stock."

It's after the third time Joel mutters about your firing position being shit and hits his boots against your ankle that you lose it.

"Enough," you say, placing the gun barrel gently to the ground. "This isn't going to work."

Joel has his arms crossed over his chest and he's watching you from behind a cool gaze.

"We're a bad match" you explain, your cheeks hot from irritation mingled with embarrassment at having to admit that to him. "You need to be able to trust your partner on patrols and I don't see that happening. We shouldn't be paired up."

"Fine by me."

There's relief in his voice. He doesn't want to be paired up with you any more than you do with him. Good, this will be an easy parting.

"You can get Tommy to switch us," you say with a frown at the gun laying by your feet in the grass. "He's your brother after all."

"You wanna be moved, you go to Tommy."

"You're saying you don't wanna be moved?"

You're staring at him confused with eyes that widen as Joel approaches you, his gaze tight on yours.

The toe of his thick boots bump against the tip your sneakers and he tilts his head down, wanting to match your eye level.

"I'm sayin' you don't tell me what to do," Joel rasps "I'm the one who gives orders. Not you."

Whoa.

He wasn't saying it to sound alluring, you know that because you can see the genuine irritation in his dark eyes as they bore into yours. And yet, Joel Miller's husky voice informing you that he gives the orders?

It gives you the tingles.

You swallow thickly and when you don't reply right away Joel makes a scoffing noise in his throat. You watch as he gathers the weapons onto his back and marches out of the clearing, desperate to be away from you.

///

"Sounds like it didn't go great with Joel," Tommy says the next morning as he passes you heading for breakfast.

So much for Joel not talking to Tommy. You slow, matching Tommy's pace as he walks alongside you.

"Not a good match," you reply lightly. Tommy is Joel's brother and you don't want to offend anyone. "I'm sorry to be a bother and make you have to reschedule."

"S'okay," Tommy says with a shrug. "I'll switch with him for tomorrow night's patrol. I can give you pointers then."

Relief goes through you, making the smile that cracks your features genuine.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Tommy insists his face in a smile before it becomes drawn. "I know Joel can be a little hard to handle."

Calling Joel hard to handle suggests he's like one of the wild horses in the pens you sometimes walk by, when in reality Joel Miller is just unpleasant.

"Yeah, well," you shrug unsure of what to say so you trail off.

Tommy seems compelled to fill that silence, to explain away his brothers poor social skills.

"He lost a lot during the outbreak."

You nod, trying to look sympathetic but all you can think is,

Didn't we all?

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #dark!Joel #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #series #fanfiction series #the last of us #the last of us fic #ellie x dina

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dixons-sunshine · 12 days

Note

👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈

I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.

Genre: Fluff, some light angst.

Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”

“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”

You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.

Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”

You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.

You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”

Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”

You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.

“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“It won't work.”

“S'gotta.”

“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.

“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.

“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”

“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”

“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”

Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”

“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.

“She's not coming back with us.”

“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.

Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.

“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.

“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.

Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”

“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.

“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”

That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.

Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.

“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”

Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”

Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.

“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”

Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.

He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.

Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.

“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.

“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”

“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”

A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.

“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”

Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.

“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”

“Because I was with the enemy?”

“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”

“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.

“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”

Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”

“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.

Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.

And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You found him like that?”

Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.

Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”

“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”

A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.

It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.

“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.

You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—

“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”

A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.

“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”

Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl #daryl x reader #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #merle dixon #the walking dead

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

PROMPTS FOR ACTION, CHAOS, AND DRAMA * a collection of lines for the more dramatic adventures

put the gun down. now.

nobody leaves unless i say so.

quick! hide!

everyone's out to get you.

can you still walk?

how much money did you lose?

looks like we're stuck in here for a while.

someone has to stay behind.

get down!

i think i'm gonna be sick.

you have my word.

it's too dark in here. i can't see anything.

we're gonna have company!

did you kill them?

shut your eyes. don't look.

is there a problem here?

drop your weapons.

we'll never make it in time.

i think he's one of them.

we can figure this out! stay with me!

hold your breath!

let me make you an offer.

wait, do you hear that? something's wrong.

when i say go, go!

can you think of a better plan?

i'm taking you to the hospital.

i'll get the money, i swear.

someone started all this, and i'm going to find them.

i'll get you out of here. i promise.

we're running out of road!

if you kill me, there'll be nowhere else to hide.

i'll tell you how this is gonna go.

brace yourself!

give me your gun.

where the hell do you think you're going?

i don't know! i'm all turned around. i can't remember where we came from.

give me the password.

i never should have come here. this was a mistake.

do you even know why you're supposed to kill me?

don't give up. please don't give up.

this is going to get nasty.

you should sit down.

i'll cover you.

what's the combination?

shit! the door's jammed!

think i broke something.

this is a terrible disguise. i'm going to get caught.

we need to find something to stick under it to keep it open!

we both know what has to happen here.

i'm staying! i'm right here! i'm staying!

nobody has to get hurt.

we can't let them win.

someone's been here.

this was your idea!

you take the left, i'll take the right.

is that the best you can do?

please just let me live.

hold on! there's more of them!

i'm ready whenever you are.

they're dead, and it's all my fault.

i can't walk. can you carry me?

it's time to end this.

quick, through that door. i hear someone coming.

you just blew our cover!

i'm afraid it's a bit more complicated than that.

can you hotwire a car?

is the wall moving, or is that just me?

no! i'm not leaving without you!

i'm not against you, if that's what you're asking.

the current's too strong!

i think that's blood.

shit, it's a dead end! we're trapped!

hold my hand. we can make the jump together.

oh my god. he's reaching for something.

why didn't you take the shot?

we should get moving before they come back.

this isn't what i signed up for.

do you smell that? what is that?

are you with me?

let's go over the plan one more time.

we've got a serious problem here.

these people will kill you if they have to.

the door's locked. it needs a six digit code.

i think we lost them.

we might be stuck.

which way did they go?

i can't wait to get you back to the room.

let me drive this thing.

there's not enough room for both of us.

it wasn't supposed to happen like this.

you're bleeding.

i'm not sticking around to see what happens.

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thefiery-phoenix · 16 days

Text

CONSEQUENCES (YANDERE HANGYUL BAEK X READER X YANDERE EUGENE)

Two psychopaths in the entire series lol, far worse than serial killers

You felt like you were going insane and losing your mind trapped with Hangyul and Eugene, you despised them for stealing you from your life and your family. You regretted the day you ever met them and if you could change the time and course of your actions, you'd do that but unfortunately, the time and tide doesn't wait for anyone. You hated the way how Eugene and Hangyul coordinated with each other and found out everything about you and even had Eugene's brother Yuseong spy on you and give them daily updates on what happened in your life. By the time you found out about the secret cameras they installed in your room and in your own house, you felt sick to the core. You felt like screaming and slapping them across the face for doing something that repulsive to you. You knew it would be a stupid idea to contact the police, you knew what these psychopaths were capable of and the last thing you needed was for them to ruin your life further. Even though you found out what Hangyul Baek did in his hospital and found out about his secret of trapping people in cells where they never saw the light of day again, sometimes you felt like that would be a far better option than having to endure Eugene and Hangyul on a daily basis

You got down from the bed and walked into the living room, the dim lights and opulent furniture along with the beige walls and the carpets would have given you a homely feeling and looked aesthetically pleasing to the eye since you remembered saving tons of pins like this on your Pinterest boards, you had no idea how far these lunatics would go and they actually ended up furnishing the living room to your liking. You'd honestly be flattered if you weren't kidnapped and if you didn't feel like a freaking hostage. You looked around the room cautiously trying to detect any movement as you heaved a soft sigh of relief to yourself. Those lunatics weren't around, perhaps you could try leaving. You mapped out an escape route for yourself, the door was a bad idea since it had a digital lock that could only be opened from the outside and no doubt they both used some kind of high tech level security to prevent you from opening the door. The window was a no go for you as well since they were smart enough to have iron bars on the windows. But the balcony was a good shot, you knew there was a ledge down the balcony and if you could just manage to get down to the ledge and be a bit careful in climbing the pipeline to the ground, you'd be able to escape! You felt an adrenaline rush course through your veins as you felt a surge of excitement, something you hadn't felt in since a long time and you rushed to the balcony door and tried to open it but no avail. You grumbled under your breath and looked around for a way to break open the balcony door, unaware of the secret cameras that were watching your every move and action. The walls did indeed have eyes and ears

"How adorable, she's trying to escape'' said Hangyul as he chuckled and showed the footage of you trying to open the balcony door on his laptop to Eugene who had an amused smirk plastered across his face. The both of them shared the same look of malice glinting in their eyes and the way they had a sadistic smirk on their faces as they watched you trying to open the balcony door of fruitlessly. "What a naive little thing she is...she doesn't know we're watching her every move. But I'm rather hurt you know, we did so much for her and yet she feels like running away like the naughty little girl she is'' said Eugene as he sighed and had an expression of mock sadness on his face. "You don't actually think she'll leave...do you?" asked Hangyul as he looked at Eugene with a stoic look on his face. Eugene simply chuckled and shook his head. "You have the habit of worrying too much...but she won't. We won't allow that to happen... and our little sweetheart needs to know about the consequences of her actions as well'' said Eugene as his smile disappeared and a dark look crossed his face. Hangyul's expression darkened as he narrowed his eyes at the mere thought of you escaping from them, a thought both of them never wanted to entertain. Now that the very thought of you wanting to leave them was forming in your head, they had to squash it and nip it in the bud before it would get too out of hand. "Let's give our little sweetheart a surprise visit'' winked Hangyul as Eugene let out an amused chuckle as the both of them were on their way back to the residence where you lived with them

Meanwhile you were still trying to find something to break open the balcony door with so you could escape. After a few moments of fumbling around, you finally managed to get the balcony's sliding door open as you heaved a sigh of relief and you peered downwards to see if it would be safe for you to jump. It wasn't too steep but wasn't exactly too close either, you could manage, you just had to be careful. The last thing you needed was for you to end up with a broken ankle or some broken bones which would prevent you from escaping from these psychopaths who held you hostage for so long that you lost your sense of time. You entered the balcony area and as soon as you got ready to jump, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you back inside as another hand closed the balcony door shut again and you felt the hope die inside you. You were so close, yet so hopelessly far away from your freedom. You looked at Eugene and Hangyul with a resentful expression on your face as they both stared back at you with cold and stern expressions, their usual smirks long gone

"Why would you attempt to do such a foolish thing, my dear?' asked Eugene, his voice was soft yet his tone and the look on his face indicated that he wasn't playing games with you at the moment. "You're quite the foolish little thing you know...you could have gotten hurt. We're supposed to take care of you and love you and this is what you do. You need some disciplining sweetheart'' said Hangyul as he stared at you with his soul piercing stare which sent shivers and chills down your spine. The fact that they weren't smiling anymore indicated that they were really pissed off and you felt a cold sense of dread settle inside you. "I...I wanted some fresh air'' you mumbled lamely as you fidgeted nervously. You mentally cursed yourself for uttering such a silly excuse, you felt like you should have come up with something better but the severity of the situation didn't ease your nerves

"Tsk tsk...sweetheart, you know I hate liars'' said Eugene as he narrowed his eyes at you and he lifted your chin with his index finger to make you look at his cold stern gaze which didn't calm your nerves any. "You know...we do so much for you and yet you behave like a little brat. You need to be punished. You need to learn that there are consequences for your actions sweetheart'' said Hangyul as a sickly smile was plastered across his face which made the bile rise to your throat. "Wh...what do you mean?" you asked them as your heart raced madly and hammered wildly out of pure fear from their words. You felt your blood run cold, this was the first time you've known fear as you stood in front of two monsters who were very much capable of making people's lives hell. "Don't fret for now, naive darling...just rest. Everything will be clear soon'' cooed Eugene as you felt a prick in your neck and you could feel your vision and consciousness reducing. The last thing you remembered was them kissing your cheek before you managed to fully black out in their arms

You woke up a few hours later and you instantly knew they'd injected some kind of sedative to make you feel drowsy and weak. You could still feel the after effects which made you groggy but you were still able to decipher and comprehend what was going on around you and needless to say, you were not liking the situation one bit. "Ah...how wonderful, you're awake my dear...now, we know you might have been feeling a bit lonely and bored, which is why we'll play a nice game. A fun one which we think you might enjoy'' said Hangyul with a smile on his face, that didn't match the sadistic gleam shining in his eyes. "What do you mean?" you asked hesitantly as you looked at them with fear in your eyes. They both loved the way your pretty soft lips quivered in fright from the mere sight of them, it gave them such a rush of power as they found it rather endearing and adorable

They led you to the living room and made you sit in between them on the couch as they switched on the TV and 3 of your best friends were in a white room, blindfolded and gagged and tied up as your eyes widened in horror. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? LET THEM GO!" you screeched on top of your lungs as you glared at both of them. "You look so adorable when you try to be intimidating my dear, but you need to understand that your actions have consequences...'' cooed Hangyul as he had a sickly grin on his face and stroked your hair gently. "You know...I've always despised your pathetic little friends. They're like flies you know...but I don't really blame them for wanting to be around you, your personality is sweeter than honey...of course, we aren't really THAT heartless either, my dear...'' said Eugene as he smirked at you. "We'll give you a choice, since we're feeling...merciful at the moment. We simply cannot stand seeing you so upset...'' whispered Hangyul as his lips teasingly brushed against the nape of your neck

"What choice?" you asked as you raised a brow apprehensively. You REALLY did NOT like where this was going. "A choice for you to save one of those annoying little pathetic friends of yours. Which friend is more dear to you? Which friend would you be willing to save to be able to sacrifice the other two insignificant little pests'' asked Eugene as his smirk widened when he saw you squirm and look uncomfortable at the situation. They both loved it when you started squirming and felt pleased that they had such an effect on you. "Are you both insane? I won't choose between my friends! Please, let them go! They have families, they have their lives to live for! I'm the one who should be punished, I'll accept whatever punishment you give me but leave them alone'' you pleaded with a desperate expression on your face. "How endearing, you have such a noble heart...'' laughed Hangyul as his tone was laced with slight mockery and amusement. "How noble indeed but no, my dear. They've also had the audacity to get close to you and look at you and be with you...time's running out my dear. Choose before we choose for you. Tick...tock...'' said Eugene as he held your hand in his while you stared at the TV screen in front of you with tears streaming down your face, the fates of your dear friends lives resting in your hands

"Please don't do this...please...I'm begging you'' you whispered as you sniffed and more tears ran down your face. "You need to learn your lesson my dear. Now choose'' said Eugene with a slightly stern voice as you shook your head. "Not to worry then, we'll pick for you'' spoke Hangyul as he pulled out a remote and pressed the number 3 on it. The room in which your friends were trapped in glowed red as the number 3 was visible on the wall. A few men with masks grabbed one of your friends and twisted your friend's neck and you could literally hear the sound of their bones snapping before they fell down to the ground limp and lifeless. "NO!" you screamed as you flailed around and tried to escape from their strong grasp but no avail. "Please let them go! Please...'' you pleaded as your tears continued to flow. "Awww...darling don't cry...this is for your own good you know'' whispered Hangyul as he kissed your tears away and Eugene caressed your other cheek with his cold fingers in a nimble manner

Eugene pressed another button on the remote as the room glowed 1 and you could see the men in the masks drag your other friend and they pulled out sharp knives and stabbed your friend till the ground was covered in a crimson pool of your dead friend's blood while you watched on with horror, angry at yourself for being so pathetic that you couldn't save your friends from their deaths. "You...you said you'd spare one at least. Please just spare the last'' you pleaded weakly, hoping against hope that they'd concede and give in. "Hm...let us think about it for a moment'' mumbled Hangyul as he tapped his chin playfully as Eugene spoke "I don't think they really deserve it though...would you like to do the honor?" asked Eugene as he handed the remote to Hangyul. You tried to snatch the remote from his hand as Eugene restrained you by pulling you onto his lap and caged your body with his arms while you struggled to free yourself from him. The button was pressed and the last of your friends fell down to the ground lifeless and dead as a single bullet to the forehead painted the ground of that room with the spilled blood of your dear friends

You sat there still and motionless as you just witnessed the deaths of your dearest friends and hated that you were powerless to stop it from happening as silent tears streamed down your cheeks and you trembled slightly. "We would never hurt you my love...I hope you've understood your lesson now and the consequences of your actions...'' whispered Eugene as they both kissed your cheeks, sealing your fate to be with them forever....

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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months

Text

♰ ɄⱠ₮Ɽ₳ Ø₦Ɇ ♰

♰ Pairing: vampire!hyunjin x vampire!chubby!reader

♰ Genre: horror/angst

♰ Summary: A new drug's turning vampire's feral and when Hyunjin uncovers a plot to pin it all on you, he's determined to make your enemies pay even if he puts himself in danger in the process.

♰ Word Count: 2.3kish

♰ Warnings: mentioned drug use (it's synthetic blood), blood, burning alive, mentions of violence, strong language, stabbing, vampires obviously, low key psychotic love, pet names (baby, honey).

♰ A/N: I created this to have two parts. This one is more action-oriented and the second will be more romantic. I'm just trying to do my part to give us chubby badass vampire babes whose men love them enough to commit murder, ya know?

The underground club scene can grow quite boring for a vampire. Your first few blood raves make you feel more alive than you ever did when you actually had a pulse. But the ones that follow? They become so mundane and predictable that not even the introduction of human drugs can save them from losing their luster.

Enter a new drug, Ultra, synthetic blood by vampires for vampires. Guaranteed to fuck you up. One dose opens your eyes to a world far beyond your own. It mutates your cells. Alters your brain chemistry. Turns you into a brand new beast. The power you gain is addictive and the things you’ll do to hold onto it, the sins you'll commit, you don’t even want to imagine.

But you must imagine them. You are the one who created Ultra, or so they say, and some incredibly powerful people are looking to give you a taste of your own poison. Tell me, are you prepared to die? Again?

Distorted metal music ricochets off of the stone walls of the club with the force of a dozen automatic rifles firing all at once. The occasional rapid flashing of strobe lights illuminates the darkness, giving the few hundred bloodsuckers on the dance floor the closest thing to a sunrise that they can tolerate. Everyone dances except for one weasel of a man. A dealer slinking through the crowd in his worn leather jacket handing off vials of Ultra to this person and the next.

“I won’t have to do this for long,” he tells his friend at the bar when he stops to grab a drink. This friend, a fellow scumbag, grins as he knocks back a shot, completely unphased by the recent carnage caused by the shit his companion has been peddling. “The council says once I do this they can get rid of her and make room for me.” “Make room for you? Tell me you don’t really think those rich fucks would ever let us into their secret society”

The dealer nods to the bartender to give him his usual, “See, that’s your problem. You think too small. That’s why you’ll never get anywhere.” His friend only rolls his eyes, turning to check his surroundings before he leans in to offer some advice. “I’d be quieter about this if I were you. If she finds out you’re trying to set her up she’ll sick her dog on you then you won’t get anywhere either.” “Fuck her” the dealer spits, finishing off his drink, “She can sick her dog on me. I’ll just have to put him down.”

Agitated, he slams his glass down on the bar, nearly shattering it. “I’m supposed to be afraid of her?” he mutters, shoving the other man aside to turn down a winding hallway that leads to the back door. He stops in front of the door to dig for a cigarette, wincing at the brightness of the few working lights that dangle from the ceiling of the desolate hallway. The air shifts, growing colder around him, but he’s much too busy fidgeting with his lighter to notice the change. Too lost in the ecstasy of that first drag to notice the shadow along the wall closing in on him. “I don’t even know why they have to do all of this. Should just kill her. She’s just some stupid b—”

An ice pick pierces his neck from behind, taking every twist and turn between his muscles before emerging on the other side. The cigarette falls from his lips, extinguished by the tiny pool of blood forming in vivid red on the concrete floor. “Just some what?” Hyunjin questions, rolling the ice pick between the man’s vertebrae. The sound of metal splitting bone is music to Hyunjin’s ears. “Speak! What were you going to call her?” The man opens his mouth but no answers tumble out. Only blood and desperate gasps for air. Tears begin to form in his eyes as the reality of his helplessness sets in.

Hyunjin leans over the man’s shoulder, his large hand reaching around to cover his mouth. “I should’ve known you’d have nothing interesting to say” he sighs, almost sounding disappointed, “You’re just some stupid bitch.” The ice pick slips out smooth as butter, finding a new home in the man’s left lung followed by his right. Hyunjin moves in a blur of darkness, leaving the man spinning in circles trying to predict where the next attack will come from.

Blood pours from a dozen different holes scattered across his body. He reaches out to grab the collar of Hyunjin’s expertly pressed suit only to pull back a fistful of nothing. The coldness, he feels it now as he drops to his knees, his vision darkening. One final stab, inches from his heart, is all he feels before the bulbs in the ceiling pop leaving him in the dark.

“Oh, Jinnie, look! Here you are!” you sing from the comfort of a rose infused bubble bath. You ease down further into the steamy water, the rose petals dancing at the surface cloaking your naked body. “Pisces,” you begin to read off from the astrology book you’ve been flipping through, “As Jupiter aligns with Neptune in your house of love, you mustn’t shy away from sharing your true feelings with your partner—” Hyunjin kneels beside you, tilting your book back to view the title. He cracks a smile, “A Girl’s Guide to Astrology 2023. After a hundred years, you still believe in that stuff?” “Mmm, maybe” you shrug, running your black manicured nails through his slicked back hair.

Resting his head on the edge of the tub, Hyunjin closes his eyes and lets you massage his scalp. He could stay like this for hours, having you read to him by candlelight as your fingers melt away all that plagues him. “What are your true feelings? You seem troubled.” “No trouble, my love.” Tossing the book to the floor, you raise his head to look at you. It never fails, even after a century together, that looking into his eyes makes you want to melt. Beyond the beauty of his features lies a softness reserved only for moments like this. For moments with you. A softness that most men of your kind lacked even before they turned.

“You’re lying to me, Jinnie. What’s wrong?” One brush of your thumb across his cheek is all it takes to break his defenses. “You know that Ultra stuff that has everyone turning feral?” You nod, not daring to ask if he’d taken it. He’d never touch something like that. Not your Jinnie. Not when he’s seen firsthand what it does. It’d be hypocritical to say that neither of you lusts for violence. But violence directed towards people who don’t deserve it? Tearing the limbs from innocent lovers in the park? Slaughtering whole families? There’s no pride in that. “I caught the guy who’s been dealing it. He’s upstairs. I think—” Hyunjin pauses, bracing for your reaction, “I think the council plans to say that you made it.”

Your iris pulses an electric red, your heart pumping a pure searing hatred through your veins. The council. Five decrepit bastards who rule their own sectors of the city under the guise of keeping the peace between vampires and humans when in reality it’s all about the money. That’s all it’s ever been about. They’re criminals, the same as any mafia you’ve ever known, and you worked your ass off for your seat among them. They could never quite accept that a woman infringed upon their little boys' club. They would’ve put a stake through your heart a long time ago if it weren’t against their own bullshit rules.

Rule #1: We never kill our own. The Consequence: Death.

Ultra doesn’t just make vampires kill humans. It makes them kill each other. And finally, when their bodies can’t mutate anymore, it kills the host too. If they can pin this on you then you’re dead. You, every vampire under your protection, and Hyunjin—

Not him. Never him.

You rip through the halls of your sprawling mansion, hearing Hyunjin’s voice as if it were far away at the end of a long tunnel. “Cover up at least, honey” he insists, throwing a flowy silk robe around your wet body. You slip your arms in, not missing a beat as you grab a blade from the wall on your way to the third floor. You can hear shallow breathing as if it were your own. The stench of whisky and blood floods your senses the closer you get, nearly making you nauseous. Kicking the door into your spare bedroom, you come upon the man plotting your death.

He’s chained to the bed, his clothes tattered where wounds from the ice pick have slowly begun to heal. You descend upon him, your blade pressed to his throat, fangs bared. “Tell me everything” you demand, realizing at once that you’ve seen him before. Nowhere in particular. Here and there. In places you never thought much of. Had his appearances there really been a coincidence? No, there was a reason. He’s been watching you all this time. How didn’t you see it? “No” he refuses, licking the dried blood from his bottom lip, “Kill me and you’ll burn for it. You both know that!”

You gasp, sitting up on top of him, “Oh no, baby, did you hear that?” Hyunjin leans against the wooden bedpost, his reappearance startling the man. “I heard. Kill him and we’ll burn” Hyunjin dramatically cowers in fear, “I’m so scared. We better be careful, huh?” “Mmhmm” you agree, inching the blade away from the man’s neck and burying it in the mattress beside his head. “Jinnie, how long do you think until sunrise?” Hyunjin makes his way to the window, peeking out at the breathtaking landscape that surrounds your home.

It’s early enough in the morning for the sky to still cling to hues of dark blue as the sun creeps up along the horizon. “Half an hour maybe.” “Would you be a dear and open the curtains? It’s so dark in here.” The man’s eyes dart back and forth, watching your smile grow more devious with each curtain Hyunjin ties open. “Wait, you can’t—” the man panics, struggling against his chains. “I know. I know. We can’t kill you!” you groan, climbing off of him, “But we’re gonna. I mean, thanks to you they’ll probably try to kill me anyway, and since you won’t answer any questions you’re useless.”

Hyunjin takes you by the hand, escorting you to the door. “You go to bed. I’ve got it from here” he whispers, kissing you on the forehead. You cross your arms defiantly, refusing to move an inch. “No, we’ll finish this together like we do everything else.” Hyunjin’s arms come around your waist, pressing your plush body to his. “I always take care of you, don't I?” he asks, his hands tracing your figure. “Always.” “Then go and wait for me, okay? This won’t take long.” You glance over at the man on the bed, your mind racing with all the things you could do to him. All horrors he’d very much deserve.

“Fine but hurry. You've been gone all night. I’ve missed you.” Your lips meet, sparking something that sets your body ablaze in a different way. One that has you tugging at the buttons on his shirt as your tongue teases the sharp points of his fangs. You don’t want to break away and neither does he. Once Hyunjin has his hands on you everything around him loses its importance. The only thing his body longs for—needs as if his survival depends upon it—is you. But he manages to turn you loose for your own safety, locking the door when you leave to be extra safe.

Without another word, he circles the room slowly closing each curtain he opened only moments ago. “What happened? Change of heart?” the man taunts, trying and failing to get a rise out of him. Hyunjin grabs the vintage French parlor chair positioned by the window and drags it to the darkest corner of the room. He sits in silence, his face void of emotion, his eyes unblinking. Hyunjin’s focus is no longer on his prisoner but on the evolution of the light that breaks through the curtains.

Minute after agonizing minute passes until the fear of the unknown forces the man to ramble off everything he can think of. Insults, confessions, pleas for mercy. None of it gets the slightest reaction until the faintest sunbeam casts its light on the carpet. Hyunjin rises, locking eyes with the man for the first time as he approaches the sunbeam. “My wife always said we all have special abilities. Things that make us unique,” he says, rolling up his left sleeve. “I didn’t believe her at first but then one day I got caught in the sun.”

Hyunjin shoves his forearm into the sunlight, his bare skin exposed to what should be eating through him like acid. “Nothing, see? It takes a while for me to burn but you—I have a feeling you’ll strike up like a match.” “No, please! You don’t understand!” Hyunjin smirks, twirling over to the window, “You don’t understand. You told my baby she’d burn. You first!” Hyunjin tears open the curtain nearest to the bed, letting the sun shine in at full power. “What a beautiful morning” he hums, sliding the others open to the tune of screams that would wake the dead.

The man on the bed is burning, his skin bubbling like he’s being deep fried. In a sense he is. The heat from the sun is cooking him. He feels every pop. Every sizzle. Tiny fires ignite, charring his skin. Hyunjin watches on, the steam rising from his own skin barely a tickle. He won’t leave this room before he’s seen him burnt to a crisp, reduced to nothing more than a charred corpse for him to deliver to the council as a warning of sorts.

Threaten what he loves and this is only a taste of the fate that awaits them.

#stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x female reader #hyunjin x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #stray kids x you #plus size reader #hyunjin x you #stray kids au #stray kids angst #hyunjin angst

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armpirate · 3 months

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OMGG!!! The only one was so amazing just wanna say thank u again 💗

Also can u pls also make a part story of them when YN gets pregnet and jk reaction?!!! 😬 also have them smut like they say sex with while pregnet are more better than it was , idk how far its true but well its up to u how it will ended up , well dont mind my requset just do what u like, even if u didnt want its okay ✌

MASTERLIST

Full story

pairing: TheOnlyOne!JK x fem!reader || Mafia

w.c.: 3.6k

Warnings: mention of vomit, smut, dirty talk, pregnancy sex, voyeurism, female masturbation

Aprox. time of reading: 16 minutes

The environment was too heavy. The loud voices around the table, the fake laughs, the momentary shouts to give more emphasis to what they were saying... and certainly the way your stomach felt like you had been rolling on yourself for hours didn't help. Your husband's hand never left your thigh under the table, aware of the way your frown was slightly furrowed and your lips twisted in disgust.

"Doll, are you okay?" Jungkook asked for the third time that night, leaning over you to whisper in your ear.

"Yeah, I don't know" you shook your head, gulping thick. "I think I might be getting sick or something. It's okay" you patted his hand, caressing the tattoos on his fingers.

Jungkook smiled, taking your answer before he laid a kiss on your exposed shoulder and joined one of the conversations back.

It was so weird.

For a few days, you had been feeling queasy, losing appetite over food you'd have lost your mind over months back, feeling dizzy at random moments of the day -especially in the morning. It was shocking how your stamina seemed to last less, to the point that you'd fall asleep in places you would've never thought of. It wasn't like being in the hotel was the most entertaining thing for you, but it certainly wasn't as boring for you to end up sleeping on Jungkook's desk while you worked on some documents.

As much as you had tried to find that little thing that might've made your stomach upset, and influenced the way your body was working, you couldn't find anything out of usual.

"Earth calling Y/n" Jin joked, bringing you back to the conversation. "Are we so boring for you to ignore us?" he he reproached, pointing at you with the fork.

"I don't even know why you're surprised. She married Jungkook, at the end of the day" you heard Yoongi tease him back, licking his lips before he gave a sip of his drink filled with wine.

Jungkook's grip on your thigh tightened, drawing your eyes on him just so you could assure him for the fourth time that night that you were okay. Your soft smile was all he needed to relax again, and move back to allow the waiters to serve the food in front of you.

You didn't know if it was the way the fish was cooked, but you felt disgusted by its odor as soon as the plate was settled ahead of you.

"Y/n, are you okay? You look a bit pale" dared to ask, giving you a concerned look.

"Yes, I'm okay. It's just..." the sentence was interrupted by a gag reflex that you managed to stop before it was too obvious. Although you could only hold on to the noise from it, because the uncomfortable feeling stayed there for a second until you felt your stomach preparing for the second one "I'm sorry".

The chair squeaking under you, at the sudden movement to drag it away from the table to run away from there, made everyone look up to you. Until then, most of the people around the oval table were minding their business, but you made sure that attention would fall on Jungkook after your dramatic exit.

There wasn't anything as distressing as feeling the bile going up your throat until you were forced to take it out, kneeling in front of a toilet in the nearest restroom to the private room you all were in. For a few seconds, you dealt with your bangs and some locks making their way in front of your face, while you tried to keep the balance, until someone else got in charge of them. You'd recognize that gentle touch anywhere else, as he picked the hair that was bothering you with one hand and comforted you with the other on your back.

One last gag, one last spit, and you thought you were done. Your breathing was a bit faster from the effort, your eyes felt teary and you didn't want to imagine how bad you probably looked at that moment.

He handed you some paper, so you could clean your mouth as he flushed the toilet and waited for you to recover. He was squatting next to you, giving you that worried look that you recognized. Only one dangerous word from you, and he'd be setting the whole place on fire.

"Don't give me those eyes" you warned him, sighing as you sat on the top of the toilet.

"What eyes?" his tone sounded exhausting, and his body language was giving away how frustrated he actually was when he tilted his head.

"The eyes of someone who's about to kill somebody"

"Good, because I want to kill somebody" he replied. "You've been feeling bad all night. Or, let's better say, you've done well at pretending you were fine until now" he clicked his tongue. "What did you eat? Did you drink or eat something out of home? Did any of the food you ate this week taste weird?" he started asking, placing a hand subtly on your knee.

"I promise I'm okay" you insisted.

But that sentence most probably translated into something else in his brain. Jungkook stood up, extending his hand in front of you to help you get up.

Taking a deep breath, you got up from the place where you were sitting, feeling his fingers intertwining yours as he walked you outside. But instead of turning left to go back to the private area, he turned right, walking towards the exit. "Jungkook, the dinner..." you tried to stop him.

"Fuck the dinner" he huffed, "I'm taking you to the hospital".

It didn't matter how many times you insisted you were okay, his paranoia was winning the argument against you, and the slightest chance of you being poisoned some time in the week made all of his alarms blast at full volume in his head.

Jungkook insisted on you getting checked the first time you fell asleep next to him during one of the meetings. The next time was when you tripped on your feet when you went dizzy for a second. And that night was the last straw he needed to put a stop to your stubbornness.

You hated hospitals. The smell, the feeling of never being okay... you just couldn't stand being in those places. And the fact that you were dragged to one had you fuming all the way there, even if Jungkook tried to convince you that it was something you needed. It didn't matter how hard you wanted to stay mad, one look into his sparkly rounded eyes as he whispered that he'd feel relieved if he saw everything was okay and you were fumbled.

The doctor's first words after you got your tests done got you and Jungkook looking at each other, confused.

"When was the last time you had your period?" he asked, looking at you over his pasty squared glasses.

You pressed your lips together, trying to remember, and realizing you should've had your period two weeks back. It wasn't like your period was regular, but you never had delays of more than a week.

"A month ago" you whispered, with your voice lowering with every letter you pronounced.

"Everything is fine with your body, mrs. Jeon" he scoffed. "Really fine, actually".

As he handed you the papers with all of the results, you were sure your knowledge in Korean was deceiving you, inviting Jungkook to read them himself when he was aware of the shocked expression on your face.

"Positive" he whispered.

"Hmm. Yeah, it seems like that food that didn't sit well is actually a baby" the doctor joked. "Congratulations" he celebrated for the two of you, "or I'm sorry, I don't know".

You walked out first, bowing to him as you tried your best to walk on those heels when you were barely able to keep up with the weight of your own body. Jungkook read the results as he walked behind you, unbelieving of what his eyes were seeing.

"Y/n" he called you.

The tears in your eyes started rolling down your cheeks as you turned to him, being the only way to make that pressure on your chest feel a bit lighter. He hugged you tight, wrapping his arms around your body while you held onto his waist and hid your face on his chest.

"Shh" he tried to calm you down, moving his fingers through your locks.

"I'm pregnant" you whispered within hiccups. "We're going to have a kid".

If it weren't because, after three years of marriage, he knew you so well, he'd have thought that was bad news for you. Jungkook smiled against your temple, hugging you tighter and encouraging you to sob a bit louder.

Getting pregnant was an idea you got rid from throughout the years, it stopped being a topic of discussion between you two after several arguments where you felt insecure and undeserving of him, while he fought to show you the opposite. You had gone through different therapies, only to end up with the same disappointment every time. So seeing that "Positive" in your results was the closest you had ever been to witnessing a miracle.

"We're pregnant" you moved back, repeating it while looking him in the eyes.

"I know" Jungkook nodded, moving the locks away from your face and wiping the tears away as he stared into your bright eyes.

He had known you for quite some time, but he swore he hadn't seen the way his universe reflected in your eyes as clearly as it did that night.

You were lying in the middle of your bed, looking up at him as he joined you in your bedroom after taking a shower and changing his suit for some comfortable clothes. You managed to deal with some of the shared responsibility that came along with Bangtan, until your belly started to grow enough to make it impossible for you to barely move. For your safety, and his mental peace, Jungkook came up with the idea of you staying at home -with him only leaving whenever he was actually needed somewhere. But, most of the time, it was Jungkook orbiting around you and pleasing your needs before you could even be vocal about them.

That day, he had to take a morning trip to Seoul, forcing him to spend most of his day outside -which translated in him being present through texts or video calls several times throughout the day, until he managed to go back home.

He sat behind you, extending his legs around your hips so you were almost trapped in his body when his chest rested on your back and his chin on your shoulder.

"How are my two precious treasures doing?" his voice sounded muffled against your skin, with the vibrations tickling on your skin and making your body squirm with a giggle.

"Treasure number one is okay" you assured about yourself, "While treasure number two keeps making it clear he wants to be as a restless ass as his father" you joked.

"That's my boy" he cheered, receiving a playful jab on his stomach from you.

Still smiling, Jungkook leaned to kiss the curve of your shoulder over one of his oversized t-shirt, slowly moving up to your neck. You know he didn't do it with any intention of taking it further, they were more like caring pecks, but your body reacted to them as if he had dug through one of the most erogenous corners in your body.

"What?" he inquired, looking at you over your shoulder.

"Nothing" you tried to shrug it off, caressing his hands that almost covered your whole belly.

"Is it because I did..." he gave another kiss, making sure his lips would be in contact with your skin as he reached the collar of his t-shirt "this?".

"Kook" you warned him.

You didn't know if it were going crazy, or if it was because Jungkook had barely touched you that way ever since the belly started growing a significant amount, that made him be concerned of the slightest move you could make -which translated in more than two months going no further than some make out sessions that always left you over the edge. And while you appreciated how caring he was, it was driving you insane the distance he set for you two.

"Don't start something you won't finish" you asked him, tilting your head.

"Hmm, who said I won't finish it?" he challenged, rubbing his lips over the arch of your ear. After dropping a kiss on the sensitive skin behind it, he whispered "I know I said I would try to keep my hands to myself, but I can't do it anymore".

He moved his legs under yours, hooking your knees with his to pull them apart.

"How bad do you want me?" you teased, encouraged by the way his hands advanced over your inner thighs at a slow pace.

"Well, you have no idea of the many times I've ended up jerking off in the bathroom after seeing you naked, I think that should...".

A loud chuckle interrupted him, having you pushing him and kicking his arm "It'd have been enough just saying that you want me bad".

"I want you so bad, baby" he purred against your lips.

Shutting the moan that was coming out of your mouth at the sudden touch of his cold fingers with your folds, Jungkook linked your lips together. Your hips reacted automatically to his touch, grinding against his digits when they found their way to your clit, and that gentle rub made you ascend to the seventh heaven, squirming at every small touch he was giving you. Thatconstant sway of hips was also pushing him to the limit, feeling your ass pressing against his hard dick every time you tried to reach for tighter fictions against his fingerprints.

"You're so wet" he mumbled against your lips, tracing your lips with his tongue before he kissed you again. "How did I even think going without fucking you for months?".

"Because you're a dumbass" you gasped, back arching at the sudden throb in your core.

"Are you going to cum so fast?" his mocking tone only added fuel to the fire that was starting in your lower stomach, and that had you pulling the sheets underneath your feet away.

"Kook, please" the barely powerful fear of him leaving you hanging had you begging before you had to, making him scoff.

"I got you, babe" he assured, lowering his left hand from your neck to one of your breasts, softly pressing the palm of his hands against the hard nipple. "Cum for me, hmm? Get yourself ready, because you'll be coming on my cock next".

His lewd words were the final push you needed to let yourself go, embracing that desperate feeling that you were craving so much for the past few weeks, losing any type of control all over your body and letting the pleasure speak by itself when your back arched against his chest in sync with a whine.

You still thought Jungkook was messing with you, and that he'd help you clean yourself and change clothes as he helped you stand up and started undressing you. But his fingers moved over your skin as if he wanted to set you on fire again, rubbing the reverse of his digits every time he tried to pull one of the fabrics away.

"We'll be careful" his eyes looked deep into yours, as if he were promising his reflection that you'd both take it easy, rather than you. "We don't want to hurt Ujin".

You had many questions, started by that name, but you thought it was something to discuss later and keep the focus on what you two wanted to do.

Jungkook guided you back towards the bed, helping you move over the mattress until you laid on your side. He joined next to you right after, pinching your chin and kissing your forehead before he moved your legs over hip.

He had been deep diving for too long on the Internet about what were the safest sex positions, afraid that the moment of you two being unable to hold back your needs came.

Your pussy clenched at the first feeling of his tip against your folds, feeling your clit throb only at the idea of being stretched out by him again.

"If it hurts, or if it bothers you, I'll stop" he squeezed the skin under your chin, warning you.

Your lip was trapped under your upper teeth as he slowly rammed into you, stretching your walls inch by inch until you two were linked together completely, announcing it with a heavy gasp. Jungkook warned you with his eyes, announcing his movements before you nodded.

Feeling him go all the way out, to pound back into you as slowly had to be one of the most erotic thoughts you had ever felt, feeling all the hairs in your body raise whenever his tip teased its way out to then rub against the deepest spot it could reach in your guts.

His thumb kept tracing circles on your skin, holding you by your knees while his other hand was holding the curve on your neck softly, assuring himself that you were comfortable in that position, while you sneaked yours at the top of his head, playing with his hair as you felt the pleasure building up, closer to blow at any moment as his thrust sped up.

"Does it feel good?" his voice sounded raspy, yet he gave you such a gentle look that made your pussy and your heart throb at the same time.

"Yes, don't stop" you begged, pressing your palm against your clit.

"I missed so much how warm you feel around me, doll" Jungkook moaned, moving his head back for a moment before his eyes were back on yours. "You always take me so good".

With a more firm grip on your neck, he made sure your body didn't bounce too harshly for you to end up hurt, controlling the power of his thrusts. Changing the angle of his hips, he moved at the same steady pace, rubbing his tip against one particular spot that made your toes instantly curl.

You wouldn't last too long.

The touch of his hands, the sound of his groans and moans, and how his dick stretched out so well had you gripping the pillow cover beneath his head. And Jungkook loved that look on your face, that particular expression you made when you were ready to give him the world and everything he could ask for, too drunk in pleasure to think straight, giving you a tiny glimpse of how he felt around you every single day since he met you.

Your walls took him in, clenching around his length tight as if you didn't want him to leave ever again, at the same time your eyes rolled to the back and your jaw clenched with a prolonged moan. He went right after you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt, feeling more connected to you than ever before.

As you two recovered, Jungkook stayed hugged to you, playing with your hair and smiling among shaky breaths.

"If you take so long to lay a hand on me ever again, I'll file for divorce" you joked, with a daydreaming smile curving on your face.

That wasn't what you were screaming when you two bursted inside the emergency room in the hospital, to later be dragged on a wheel chair to your room. In fact, you kept screaming how you wouldn't allow him to lay a hand on you ever again, or how unfair it was that you were the only one going through all the pain while all he did was stand there. You kept squirming once you were moved to a bed, groaning and whining at the intense pain in your lower stomach that was only preparing you for the pain you'd end up going through once Ujin decided to step into the real world and stop living peacefully inside of you.

Although it all lost sense, it all didn't matter, it was as if that pain had only been a nightmare when the nurse wrapped your baby in a towel and handed it to you, followed up close by his protective father's gaze until he was lying in your arms.

You remembered the way you cried when you were first told you were pregnant, and how you got so emotional whenever you saw him moving through that tiny television next to you, but it still didn't feel real. All those months you didn't get your hopes up, you didn't believe it'd end up with you holding your baby tight against your chest, while Jungkook snaked a hand behind your neck and his palm gently covered Ujin's head.

"His hands are so tiny" you sobbed, moving your index finger over his tiny hand. "He's so tiny".

"You made it, babe" Jungkook kissed the top of your head.

"We made it" you rubbed your head against his cheek, unable to control the tears from falling down at how full you were feeling in that particular moment.

The nurse smiled at you, standing at one side of your bed before asking "Do you know how you will name him?"

Jungkook looked down at you, receiving a proud smile before you took a breath and answered: "Our little blessing, Ujin".

#dirty talk #armpirate #request #fanfic #ff #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkookxreader #jk #bts #wattpad #kookie #smut #jungkook smut #mafia!au #The Only One #reader insert

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jennay · 7 months

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I'm Not Scared, You are!

Request: hi!!! what about a cute cozy night in with noah? cuddles, movies, whispering sweet things to reader. just loving on her. maybe she’s had a hard week at work and he just wants to give her a night to relax. kinda vague but i think it could be a very cute idea!

Word Count: 1700ish

Noah Master List

Noah Sebastian x Reader

An: I hope this is what you were looking for 🤞🏻

You'd never been so happy to clock out of your shift. You feel your body drained by the endless hours and the constant pressure from the day. Your feet constantly ache from standing long hours, and your ears ring from the coded calls.

It was emotionally wearing you down. You wondered if you were cut out for this, telling people their loved ones wouldn't pull through or explaining situations no one truly understood.

You were a doctor, and people assumed you could play god as well...but you weren't god; you were just another person trying to give back to the world.

You shouldn't complain. You chose to be a trauma doctor. You went to school for this, you trained for this...this was on you.

Sometimes, when driving home late at night with blood on your shirt and exhaustion in your eyes, you wondered if it was worth it. Every day, you were sacrificing your happiness, health, and relationships.

You kept these things to yourself, scared that people would judge you. The last thing you wanted was for people to think you weren't grateful.

You miss having time for your loved ones, especially for Noah. You know he deserves more attention, affection, and quality time. You know he is patient with you and understands how things work, but it never stops you from worrying that he'll grow tired of waiting for you to come home or waiting for you to wake up from a nap. You knew it frustrated him that you could never say you had a day off. You had your scheduled days, but that didn't mean you wouldn't get called in or accidents didn't happen. Just because it was a Tuesday didn't mean people stopped getting sick or injured.

When you pull into the driveway of your home, take a moment to yourself. You try to take deep breaths and eliminate the day's worries. You know you can talk to Noah about anything, but you didn't feel right walking into the house and dumping everything on him.

Tonight was the first night you two would have together in a long time, and you hoped your day off tomorrow wouldn't lead to another disappointed sigh from Noah telling you it's OK that you have to go back to work because it wasn't. You wanted time with him. He deserved it, and so did you.

You gain the courage to get out of your car, and with slumped shoulders, you make your way to the front door, dragging your feet with every step.

You open the door, putting a smile on your face. You weren't going to be the reason this night was ruined. "I'm home!" You yell, hearing your voice echo against the walls.

The aroma of food fills your nostrils, and you suddenly feel a pang of hunger. "Wow, it smells delicious in here." You drop your bags near the counter and join Noah, who smiles as he serves your plates.

"It's just spaghetti, but I made it with extra love." He leans down, kissing your cheek. "And, I bought some wine. I don't know if it's good, but it's that one that you and Nick drank at the Christmas party."

You and Nick weren't allowed to drink together anymore. You annoyed the shit out of everyone, and at one point, the two of you were crying and laughing on the floor over Noah's reaction to losing at a board game you cheated on.

"Oh god," You laugh, "You want a repeat of that night?"

Noah sighs, putting the pot back on the stove. "No, but you were so happy that night, and I love hearing you laugh." His voice is tinged with sadness, and you feel a lump in your throat. "I'm not saying you don't laugh anymore, but you know…" He hands you a fork from the silverware drawer. He carries the two plates to the table. "I'll get the wine, go change into something cozy."

You nod, "OK." Walking down the long hallway, you feel guilt in your stomach. You felt like you were causing pain, to Noah. It wasn't intentional, of course, and you don't think he would ever directly tell you it's your fault, but the way he states things makes you feel like you're just not there, like he talked about you in the past.

You slip into some cozy pajamas, feeling the soft fabric against your skin. You run a brush through your hair and tie it in a bun; you wish you had time to shower, but you don't want to miss a moment with Noah.

When you return to the table, Noah is waiting for you with a warm smile. His eyes light up when he sees you. He loves you so much. You can tell by the way he looks at you. "Comfy?" He asks, his voice gentle and inviting. You nod, taking a seat at the round table. "So much better." You sip your wine, feeling the sharp sensation on your tongue and the heat in your throat. You wonder how you and Nick drank a whole bottle of this stuff.

"I hope it tastes good." He says, watching you take a bit, "You know I'm not the best cook in the world."

You smile at him, savoring the bite. "It's amazing, babe. I see you got fancy with the basil." You reach across the table, holding his hand and rubbing your thumb over his skin. "It's perfect. Thank you so much."

He beams at you, his eyes sparkling with love. "I have a plan. We still have tomorrow together, right?"

You nod, eating the food with more appetite than you expected. You can't recall if you had your lunch at work or if it's still rotting in the fridge. You'll have to toss it out when you go back. The thought of returning to work makes you feel anxious and depressed. "Babe?" He says softly, "Did you hear me?"

You snap out of your trance and look at him guiltily. You were too distracted by your work worries to pay attention to him. "No, sorry."

"Ah," He leans back in his chair, bringing his glass to his lips. You notice how much he drinks and wonder if he's getting frustrated with you.

"I'm sorry, love, my mind is still stuck on the hospital." You bite your lip. "One more time, please."

He smiles gently. "I was thinking maybe we could stay up a little later tonight, finish off this bottle, watch a movie, and do one of those fun face masks you love so much." His brown eyes twinkle with hope. "Or we can go to bed and get some rest." He adds quickly, trying to read your expression. "I know you had a hard day."

You slide your chair back, pick up your empty plates, and carry them to the sink. "That sounds amazing." You flash him a radiant smile before turning around to wash the dishes. "I missed you a lot today." You confess, your back still facing him. "I know things have been crazy lately, and I'm hoping they will hire some more staff and things will calm down, and I won't have to be away so much-" You stop when you feel his hands on your hips, drawing you close to him, nuzzling into your neck.

"It's OK." He soothes you, "Our jobs require us to be busy a lot."

You shiver as you feel his words vibrate against your neck. You turn off the water, dry your hands on your pajama pants, and spin around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You stand on your tiptoes, pulling him down into a passionate kiss, and he eagerly responds, showering your face and neck with kisses.

You feel your heart race from all of the stimulating touches, all the gentle love and kind words he whispers against your neck.

"How did I get so lucky?" You ask as you rest your head on his chest and hug his hips. You feel blissful right now.

He holds you momentarily, smiling when he feels your body melting into him. "C'mon," He pulls away, holding your hand and leading you to the living room. "Go ahead, choose your spot, snuggle up." He says with a snort, "I'll be right back."

You reach out to the throw blanket resting on the armrest of the couch and wrap it around yourself, feeling its softness and warmth.

You snuggle into the sofa, bringing your legs close to your chest. Noah returns with your glasses and a bottle of wine, placing them on the table before sitting beside you.

He lifts his arm, inviting you to snuggle into his side. You oblige, not wanting to waste any snuggling time.

Noah gently pulls your legs over his lap, repositioning the blanket to cover you both.

"Perfect!" He snatches the remote from the table and hands you the wine. "How about one of those horror movies you love?"

You look up at him with wide eyes, "Really!?" "Absolutely." He grins. "Anything for you."

You sit up eagerly, take the remote from him, and browse the horror section. Noah admires you with a smile. His brown eyes sparkle with happiness as he senses your excitement.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" He caresses your face with his hand, making you blush; you were so focused on the screen that you didn't notice him gazing at you.

You press play on the screen, and The Shining starts playing.

"A classic." Noah chuckles as he pulls you closer to him.

"Oh good, you've seen it. I didn't want to pick something that would scare you too much." You tease.

Noah rolls his eyes playfully, "Excuse me. I'm not scared; you're the one scared. I can handle any ghost or demon with my karate skills."

You roll your eyes back, "Sure, tough guy."

"Before things get intense." He pauses, trying to suppress his laughter. "Is there anything we need to talk about?"

You frown with confusion. "No?"

He laughs and raises his hands in defense. "I'm just asking because you've had some wine, and I know you get random thoughts while watching movies and then we end up chatting through the whole thing and missing it."

You slap his chest lightly and scoff. "Oh, I'm so sorry that I enjoy talking to my boyfriend."

"You're forgiven." He jokes with you.

You shake your head, cuddling up to his chest, "Are you really going to karate chop the ghost?"

You feel his chest vibrate with laughter, "Are you scared?"

You nuzzle your face into his neck, whispering, "Sometimes."

He places his hand on your hip, squeezing, and kisses the top of your head, "Then sure, I'll kick the shit out of all the ghosts for you."

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian x y/n #noah sebastian x you #noah sebastian oneshot #Noah fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic

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runninriot · 5 months

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Love Is A Polaroid Steddie ficlet | ~2k | cw: implied/referenced self-destructive behaviour, drinking, a little heartbreak before it gets better | happy sappy steddie & platonic stobin

inspired by the insanely talented @inklessletter 's #polaroid series (go check out their art right now!!!)

"Steeeve, please!" Robin begs. Literally begs.

Like, hands folded together as if in prayer, a pleading look in her eyes, expression as if she's in pain.

"Robs, no! I don't- that's stupid. I don't feel comfortable with you following us around to take pictures for your- whatever it is." He waves a hand at her dismissively.

"It's a project, Steve. For my Photography Studies course."

He should know, she already explained that. Told him something about visualizing love in its purest form. Told him she wants to take polaroid pictures of him and Eddie. No posing, just random shots whenever she feels like it. Pictures in black and white - something about using dark tones and deep contrasts to enhance the beauty of simple moments in their day to day life.

"Whatever. I still don't get why it has to be us?"

Steve is a little frustrated. She's been going on about her wonderful idea for a good few minutes now, not willing to drop the subject no matter how adamantly Steve declines. She knows how shy he gets when he knows someone is taking a picture of him. He hates how he always looks a little off, has never felt very photogenic. So, the mere thought of Robin capturing him in possibly awkward situations with his boyfriend makes his skin crawl.

"Well, first of all, you are my best friends, so it would mean a lot to have you be part of it. Plus, we live together so I wouldn’t be around you any more than I already am. You wouldn’t even notice. And you two are the perfect motive because-“ Robin’s eyes flicker down to her own feet, unable to hold his gaze.

Her face is suddenly painted with a faint crimson blush. Steve's furrowed brows smooth out and his expressions go soft again when he looks at his best friend's bashful little smile as she looks sheepishly back up at him.

"You are the perfect motive because I've never seen two people being so in love with each other. Makes me sick how soft and cute you two are, if I'm honest."

Robin chuckles and Steve snorts loudly, both rolling their eyes at the same time because God, when did Robin become such a sap?

"What you and Eddie have is love in its purest form. It’s unapologetic, honest, and real. It's all I ever want to find for myself. I'm fucking jealous of you, Steve!"

They laugh and Steve ignores the violent tug in his heart caused by her words.

What him and Eddie have really is special. He knows it's some kind of miracle that they've ended up where they are now. It wasn't always that easy. There were times when Steve wanted to just give up. When the world tumbled down and buried him under its weight. When he thought he could never have Eddie like that, wanted to rather die than live life without him.

When Steve realised he had fallen in love with his best friend, his best male friend, he panicked. Finding out he likes boys like he likes girls wasn't even the scariest part. What really took him out was the fear of losing Eddie if he ever told him the truth. For weeks he tried to push his feelings down, tried to cage them behind his ribs but all it did was make him suffer even more. Every time Eddie looked at him, he felt a sharp pain in his heart. Every time Eddie touched him, it left a searing sensation on his skin. Every time they were alone, Steve felt like he was losing his mind, desperately trying to fight the urge to kiss the boy so blissfully unaware of the heartache he caused him. He fought and suffered in silence until he couldn’t take it anymore and succumbed to the tormenting ache in his chest. Until he fell into a dark hole.

Steve drifted apart, dulling his feelings with unhealthy amounts of booze. Hunting for warm, willing bodies to sink into. Starving for touch and affection just to feel anything other than the grief-stricken pain of losing the lover he never even had to begin with.

Of course, his self-destructive behaviour hadn’t gone unnoticed by his friends. Robin tried everything in her power to get through to him. Offered advice and help for all the wrong problems because she couldn’t have known that the real issue was his own fucking mind and his inability to talk about what kept him up at night. What made him so angry and distant and numb.

And then there was Eddie. Sweet, kind, and caring Eddie who couldn’t keep watching his friend ruin his own life anymore. Who gave him an ultimatum – stop hurting yourself or I’ll leave.

Eddie’s words felt like a pistol held to his head, the determination in his teary eyes like a finger ready to pull the trigger. Steve knew he meant it, knew this was his last chance. He would lose the one person that meant everything to him.

“I can’t lose you, Eddie.”

“Then let me love you instead.”

He said the words like it was easy. Like it hadn’t nearly cost Steve his sanity to even think them.

Love.

Love you.

“I love you!”

Steve felt like he was startling awake from a nightmare. One of those where, once you’ve opened your eyes, you instantly forget its horrors. That’s what it felt like when his confession found its way out of his mouth, making the pain of the past months disperse into nothingness.

Eddie had been right there all this time.

Eddie, with tears running down his beautiful face, smiling lovingly at Steve. Eddie, who brought his hands up to each side of Steve’s face before he leaned down and sealed his lips with a bruising kiss. Despair and pain spilling from his mouth as he licked his way inside, forcefully pushing something else in their place. Filling Steve’s insides with warmth and light and happiness. Passion running through his veins, pumping love into his heart, restarting the rotten organ to pick up its once steady beat. Its rhythm hard and fast, growing in size so big Steve felt like it would burst right through his chest.

I. Love. You.

Three simple words were all it took.

All the pain, the suffering, the loveless nights, and dreadful days – they all vanished in the seconds it took to say them out loud.

Three simple words, that seemed so frightening in his mind, so loaded with too much meaning and not enough weight to truly express what he felt.

What he still feels.

Loving Eddie and be loved by him in return is so easy. It’s easy because it just comes naturally. It’s what makes their love so pure, so honest, and true. They have one heart beating in two separate bodies. They are a two-piece puzzle, their curves and edges shaped to fit. A perfect match.

Steve holds out his hands, waits for Robin to take them in hers, and pulls her into a hug.

“Eddie already said yes, hasn’t he?” Steve says through a defeated smile.

“Well, his exact words were ‘You’re gonna regret it, Bucks.’ And then he said something about being extra nasty and insufferable just to wind me up. But yeah, he’s on board.” Robin huffs out a laugh.

Steve pulls her tighter, laughs when he practically hears Eddie’s voice in his head, sees his mischievous grin before his inner eye.

Eddie loves to be the centre of attention. Loves to be in the spotlight. Of course, he would be happy to provide himself as vessel for Robin’s artistic outlet.

The things you do for love, Steve sighs before he agrees.

Polaroid #1

Movie night. The three friends are watching some old, trashy horror movie. Steve had a very stressful day at work, can barely keep his eyes open when they’re not even 15 minutes into the movie. He falls asleep on the couch, unbothered by Robin and Eddie’s bickering and laughing. When the movie comes to an end, Eddie leans down to Steve’s resting body, foreheads touching as he takes a moment to just listen to the other man’s calm breathing. ‘Hey baby,’ Eddie whispers softly, ‘time to get up.’ He kisses the tip of Steve’s nose, waits for him to slowly drift out of his deep slumber.

Steve smiles sleepily when he opens his eyes and sees Eddie’s face hovering over him, accepts the gentle press of Eddie’s lips against his own.

‘C’mon, darling. Let’s get you to bed.’

‘I’m not even tired anymore,’ Steve says, his face scrunched up when he yawns loudly.

‘Hmm, I know a way to tire you out, baby. Don’t worry,’ Eddie answers smugly, brushing their noses together before he kisses him again.

Robin makes a gagging sound, but smiles as she takes a picture to capture this soft little moment.

Polaroid #2

Sunday morning. They are all a little groggy from Robin’s early birthday celebrations last night. They’ve been out dancing, downing shot after shot, having an awesome time. Now, the buzz from the night before is gone and makes way for headaches and hangover munchies. Steve promised Robin pancakes in the morning and she’s desperate for him to finally get up and make them. She knocks on their bedroom door and steps in without waiting for an answer. The boys are still in bed. Eddie looks like he just woke up with his frazzled hair hanging into his face, lying half on top of Steve, rubbing his eyes. ‘Just five more minutes’, Steve grumbles, refuses to turn and get up.

It’s her Birthday, sure, and he promised her food she absolutely, definitely needs to soak up the remaining alcohol in her system – but she can give him another five minutes.

When she returns (exactly five minutes later), she captures Eddie and Steve still in bed. Eddie’s lips grazing the skin on his mole-speckled back with a dreamy look in his eyes, while Steve sighs in defeat ‘Alright, Robs. You win.’

The shutter clicks just before he turns around to throw a pillow at her head, causing Eddie to tumble to the side and nearly topple off the bed.

Polaroid #3

Robin sorts through the pile of polaroid pictures she’s taken over the last two weeks:

Steve and Eddie dancing in the kitchen to some dorky love song.

Steve resting between Eddie’s thighs where they lie cuddled up on the sofa, Eddie reading his favourite book to Steve.

Eddie trying and failing to make a handstand, Steve beside him, holding his belly from laughing so hard.

A picture of all three of them on Robin’s birthday, faces covered in whipped cream and chocolate syrup after devouring their pancakes like starving animals.

Eddie with his guitar in his lap, Steve sitting on the floor across from him. They share a loving look, eyes full of desire and devotion.

And then- Robin startles in shock. How did that get in here?

She knows she didn’t take that picture. She couldn’t have. Not with the way she already feels the deep blush creeping up her face because- Jesus! That’s entirely too personal. She feels like she’s invading their privacy just by looking at that. This surely isn’t meant for anyone’s eyes but theirs.

It’s not like they’re visibly naked but the position of their bodies leaves literally no room for speculations. One of Eddie’s hands wrapped around Steve’s throat and Steve looks like- well, he looks absolutely fucking blissful. Robin can practically hear the soft moans escaping his parted lips (How she knows what he sounds like, you ask? They swore to never ever talk about that incident ever again).

It looks like Eddie is kissing him. Or maybe he licks his skin. Maybe he whispers some dirty words into his ear, tells him how he’s going to wreck him – who knows? The point is, Robin doesn’t want to know because as much as she adores them, as much as she’s been prying on their sweet moments over the past weeks, there are things that should be kept between them.

She’s going to frame it and surprise them with it. (What she doesn’t know, is that Eddie sneaked that picture into her folder just to tease her. What she also doesn’t know is that there’s a whole collection of more of these kind of pictures hidden in a shoebox under their bed.)

#steddie ficlet #tumblr fic #inspired by #inklessletter #polaroid series

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atlasscrumpit · 6 months

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Miguel/Ghost Face au

You held your breath for as long as you could, covering your mouth to try and dull the sounds.

You didn't know how someone as big as him could move around so quietly.

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you closed your eyes trying anything to calm it down. You had no idea what happened to your friends, if you were being honest you didn't really care.

It sounded awful but they were never really friends, just assholes you hung out with.

Thinking about anything other than the situation you were in you felt your heart starting to slow down just as the closet doors were ripped open.

"Very cliche hiding spot." He said as you looked at him in shock.

Surely he was going to kill you now that he'd revealed his voice.

You tried to make a run for it before he slammed you against a wall behind you, winding you.

"Now, what's the rush?" He said as glared at him.

You went to go grab the knife secured on his hip before he pinned your wrist against the wall.

He chuckled lowly and then slowly took his mask off to reveal a familiar face.

"Professor..." You muttered staring at your ancient history professor.

"Smart girl, you remember me." He said with a smile as you looked at him in disbelief.

"I don't get it... You were so nice! You had a wife and a kid that you loved so much!" You shouted before he covered your mouth.

"Not so loud, guapa." He whispered, smiling sadistically.

Suddenly his smile dropped as he stared into your eyes.

"My wife and child were killed... I was fired from my teaching job and I lost my house, I realised no one in the world gave a shit about me. My students, my fellow teachers, even my fucking family." He growled as you stared at him, frozen in fear.

"But, you were always different, Hermosa. You were such a kind little thing to me, and you were always so kind to everyone around you. But look how they treat you, Y/N. These friends were willing to let you die if it meant they could save themselves. That's not what you deserve, is it?" He whispered, slowly coming closer to you.

He cautiously removed his hand from your mouth.

"I get that the world is shitty, but it doesn't mean you can just go around killing people." You replied with tears in your eyes as he reached forward and caressed the side of your face.

"I know you couldn't understand it, you're too kind for this world. But, I can't kill you. I would never forgive myself." He whispered, a small part of you relieved.

"You bring so much sunshine into people's lives without them knowing and they try to snuff it out. But I won't, Y/N. I can protect you." He whispered leaning in closer as you continued to stare at him.

"No... You're a sick man, Miguel. You're delusions are clouding your mind." You said before he glared at you.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." He growled before his hand wrapped around your throat.

"You were my brightest student... How can you be so foolish?" He continued as you gripped his wrist and tried to pry it off you.

"You have so much potential... Just trust me." He whispered as you looked at him in fear.

He could see you were starting to lose consciousness, he smiled and leaned in to kiss your lips softly.

"That's it, precious." He whispered as you slowly lost consciousness.

Just before he killed you, Miguel took his hand away and caught you when you fell.

He picked you up in his arms and looked down at your face.

"You're too beautiful for this world, Bonita."

(don't say it bitch)

You woke up hours later feeling like you'd swallow hot coals.

You groaned and felt a hand go through your hair, instinctively leaning into it.

You felt someone gently touch your tender neck as you opened your eyes and whined in pain.

"I know, Y/N. I'm sorry that I had to hurt you." Miguel whispered as you looked at him.

"What did you do to me..." You muttered, he continued to stroke your hair.

"I had to give you something... Make sure you won't run from me." He said, his eyes darkening a little as he said it.

"Why me?" You whispered as looked down at you.

"My life is so dark, I see your face and I feel like my life brightens up. You'll stay here with me, be my little sunshine when I need it." He said as you narrowed your tired eyes at him.

"I won't be your fucking doll to play with." You growled despite how weak you felt.

He reached forward and gripped your chin roughly.

"You will not speak to me like that. If you don't want to be tortured and punished you will listen to me and obey me, is that understood?" He growled, inches away from your face.

You just continued to stare at him begore he gripped your bruised neck again making you yelp in pain.

"I understand..." You muttered before he took his hand away.

"That's better, all you need to do is behave and you'll be safe."

#Miguel #Miguel o'hara #Miguel x Reader #Miguel o'hara x reader #Ghost face au #Ghost face #Yandere

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 1 month

Text

You're a romantic, y/n.

Ghost x Reader.

You think no one ever would notice you, but Simon has found the perfect moment to confess that he has seen you, all this time, he has been waiting for the right moment.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, i think I wrote it for a gn reader but I apologize if I mention a female or something like that, also it's probably not very good.

Anyway I hope someone likes to read how ghosts observe and knows everything about you.

You always talk about how much you hate romance and all the romantic stuff, your friendship with Ghost is the best thing ever, he's cold and has a different way to show affection, he listens to you, even when you think he's not paying attention, he brings you coffee every morning before an important mission, offer you tea when you're sick, he's different, that's what you like about Simon.

Both are walking by the street, it's a spring Friday evening, the breeze is fresh but not really cold to make you wear a jacket or a sweater, you see an empty bench, you don't say anything and simply take Simon's hand and guide him to the bench.

It's the perfect spot to look at everybody who's walking around, both are sharing a cold tea. You're observing a couple who's close to you, they're holding hands and looking at each other with those deer eyes, and a lot of affection, you don't know what they're talking about but you're observing them cautiously.

- if you keep staring at them like that they will invite you to join them.

Simon's voice brought you back to reality, you hit him softly on his arm and rolled your eyes.

- I just think they look ridiculous...

- I don't think that's what you're thinking of.

- Oh, trust me Lt... I think it's ridiculous, all that sweetness makes me sick.

- No it doesn't.

- Then why do you think I'm observing them?

Simon is not looking at you, he's simply observing what he has in front of him, a beautiful sky and trees.

- You say you hate romance, but I've seen you smiling when you see a happy couple, or when you see old people holding hands. I've seen you watching movies about romance and drama, reading about it and poetry.

You blushed and feel a necessity to defend yourself but Simon doesn't give you the chance, he continues talking.

- I...

- You always say you would hate to receive flowers or chocolates, letters or any kind of present, but I've seen you looking at every flower shop, you like peonies and tulips, those are the flowers that you observe the most, you love chocolates, your favorites are the ones that have caramel inside. You never complain when I bring you coffee or tea, you smile at me and there's a spark in your eyes that I like.

- Simon, that's not...

- I also have heard you talking with Johnny about the girl he's dating, you always smile and you give him advice when he's in trouble, you help Kyle too, at the bar when he wants to talk with a girl.

- They're too dumb to get a girl by themselves...

You're blushing more than ever before, every word he says is something you never expected to hear. You want to hide, you feel caught. But you don't understand why you're feeling like this.

- Yes, but that's not the point, I've heard you cry after a date with some asshole because even if you say you don't expect nothing, you secretly are expecting to fall in love... my point is..., I'm just saying you pretend to hate romance and everything that comes with it but In my opinion you're a romantic y/n.

- What?

- You are a romantic, you don't hate love, it's just your excuse to avoid it or protect yourself, I don't judge you or blame you for trying, you perhaps had a bad experience in the past, or simply someone made you think you didn't deserve details, love or good things. You think it will be easier if you don't ask or expect any kind of love, but it only makes it more difficult.

Your eyes are filling with tears, you're not crying because of any pain, you're crying because he's right, you always expect a good love but you lose your hopes because it's always the same, you're always a "maybe" but never "the one", always a second option, never the only one.

Simon hears your sniffing and looks at you, you're already observing him, he kindly cleaned a tear with his thumb and before he could quit his hand, you hold it with yours, there's a long silence, it's not uncomfortable, as always, a silence with Simon is never uncomfortable, you could be in silence with him for the rest of your life and you wouldn't mind, he makes you feel good.

- There it is, that spark in your eyes. It's my favorite thing about you.

You smiled at him, then without expecting it, Ghost kissed you, softly, it was a short kiss, but once he was sure you were okay, he kissed you again, this time it was deep, sweet and filled with passion.

- I waited for this kiss for a long time.

- Did you?

- I did, I've seen you, I've heard you and the only thing i want since I fell for you, is give you and show you all the love you deserve.

Simon is a man of few words, he only speaks with the truth and when he feels sure to do it, he definitely took his time to finally tell you about his feelings. But, he showed them to you at every opportunity he had, you were just a little dumb to notice it.

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sirfrogsworth · 4 months

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Mounjaro's Revenge: The Inevitable Adventures of Froggie, Chapter Unknown

I keep saying I can't leave the house without having some kind of adventure. And I really thought I was going to have a quick, uneventful doctor's visit with my monthly checkup this past Wednesday. I'd go in, they'd check the box Medicare requires every month, and I'd come straight home.

But adventure seeks me out. I can't seem to escape its grasp. And, yes, sometimes I like having adventures. They give me something to write about. And sometimes they are fun memories. But sometimes adventures just make me tired. And not all adventures are positive.

For the past 3 weeks I have been on the second dosage amount of Mounjaro. Unlike the Ozempic, I have had a few issues with side effects. Roughly 48 hours after my injection, I get sick to my stomach and feel pukey. It lasts for about two hours. I either vomit and lose the urge or I hold it in and it fades. I am then compelled to take a nap.

Considering the weight loss and glucose control, getting sick for an hour or two per week isn't a huge deal. There is a good chance I will get used to the medication as time goes on, but even if I don't, I am okay with this consequence.

My injection day was Tuesday, and based on past experience, I figured I'd have until Thursday morning before I got sick. The past 2 episodes happened at almost identical times, so I figured Wednesday wouldn't be a problem.

But right before my doctor's appointment I started feeling extremely... rough.

Optimistic for no good reason, I was hopeful I could get through the appointment before the urge to vomit arrived.

I get to the office and there are 3 patients ahead of me. This was not a good sign. My doctor tends to overbook and I was probably going to have a bit of a wait. I arrived in the middle of a lively conversation about where to get a good steak in St. Louis. I'm used to waiting rooms being full of quiet and bored people staring at their phones so when I opened the door it felt like the conversation smacked me in the face.

The cast of characters were as follows...

There was an older black man who had the spirit of a kindly grandpa. He seemed nice and wise and was enjoying the steak conversation. Let's call him, Old Guy.

There was an older white fellow who was anxious about the wait time due to having another appointment soon. He was on hold with the other doctor's office trying to delay his appointment time. He was only mildly interested in steak due to that distraction. I already used Old Guy, so... Anxious Guy.

And then there was the steak expert who was leading the conversation. Actually, leading is not strong enough. He was *dominating* the conversation. As I sat down and his visage entered my field of view, I was a bit taken aback.

Do you know how in Star Trek everyone has a mirror universe doppelganger who may look the same, but they usually have personality traits that are reversed?

They are often identified by arch overacting or a change in facial hair.

The steak expert was my mirror universe counterpart. He was of similar age, height, and weight. Same color hair and eyes. He even wore similar clothing.

But he had a goatee instead of a beard. *gasp*

And he wore... sandals. *double gasp*

He had clearly been in a recent transporter mishap.

I mean, I could *never* wear sandals. The world is not ready to handle my nude foot and I find very few sandals have the load-bearing capacity necessary for people my size. You are asking for foot pain if you are over 300 pounds and wearing sandals.

Mirror Froggie was very outgoing and personable, but he had trouble filtering what he said and was often obliviously rude. He clearly thought himself to be hilarious but struggled to make even kindly Old Guy chuckle.

Old Guy said, "I think Longhorn makes a decent steak for the money."

And then Mirror Me's unfiltered response... "Longhorn is shit. You shouldn't eat there. You are wasting your money on shit steak."

"I don't know, I've always enjoyed..."

"I'm telling you, friend, it is shit steak. End of story."

You could tell that made Old Guy feel bad for suggesting what he liked. But he brushed it off and asked for a better suggestion. Mirror Froggie confidently told him of a restaurant called "Sam's" that had "the best steak in town."

Old Guy proceeded to ask Siri to look up Sam's and it took a few tries. He reminded me of my dad fighting with the iPhone and repeating things over and over with increasing volume. I think Old Guy wasn't specific enough as he got the wholesale club on the first few attempts. Finally he said, "SAMMM'S STEAKHOUSSSSE" and found success. Old Guy saw the reviews and some of them were... not great.

But Mirror Froggie was like, "You can't read reviews. They're all liars." And I was questioning why people would take the time to lie about a small St. Louis steakhouse, but whatever. He then said it was because the restaurant was in disrepair and needed new plumbing, but that's why they could sell such amazing steak at reasonable prices.

Theories are less logical in the Mirror Universe. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anxious Guy got off his phone call and cursed into the void. He missed his other appointment. He interjected with, "Is that Sam's place expensive?" And that sent Mirror Froggie into a long diatribe about the price of meat at different places and his annoyance at steak-related inflation. Soon after, Anxious Guy finally got in to see the doctor. Old Guy was keeping Mirror Froggie busy with conversation, so I just closed my eyes and rested as they discussed the price of oversized shrimp "as big as your fist". I guess they ran out of things to say about steak.

As they were talking I started to get a spidey-sense about Mirror Froggie.

He *needed* conversation.

He *needed* distraction.

His boredom abhors a vacuum.

Whenever there was a lull or silent moment, I could see him getting very antsy. And if Old Guy got called in before Mirror Froggie... I was going to have a problem.

I was feeling sicker by the moment and did not have the bandwidth to help some stranger with his inability to accept boredom.

And... Old Guy was next.

Because, of course he was.

I feel like sitting there with my eyes closed and also not having said a word the entire time was a pretty decent social cue that I was not interested in talking. But Mirror Me decided to poke that notion with a stick in order to find a way in.

He speaks barely above a whisper, "I wish I could sleep in a public waiting room. Not sure how you do that."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well. Nothing contagious, just very tired."

"Well, if you're sick, I guess you're in the right place, am I right? *long pause* Cuz we're next to a hospital. *short pause* Right?"

Oh great, he's a joke explainer.

Mirror Froggie did not care about my desire to sit in peace while I waited. His foot was anxiously a-tappin' and he was vibrating with energy that needed someplace to go. He tried standing up and walking in circles. And I guess because my eyes were shut he decided to narrate his walking and stretching to keep me informed. That satisfied him for roughly 20 seconds. He sat back down and was clearly struggling to be alone with his own thoughts.

"Hey, friend."

I open my eyes slowly.

"Do you see that magazine next to you? Would you mind handing that to me?"

I thought, "This is good. He's seeking out an alternate source of stimulation. He can read the magazine and I can rest until my turn."

Seriously, brain... where is this optimism coming from? I've been a cynical misanthrope for like 4 years now.

He flips through a few pages. "Look at this. It's got Oprah on the cover. It's got to be good, right? They don't put Oprah on the cover unless it is good, ya know? Though she doesn't look right after losing all that weight. You know what I mean, friend?"

Well, shit.

I didn't give him a distraction, I gave him a conversation starter. Still, I kept my eyes closed in the hopes he would give up.

"Hey, friend."

Crap.

"You want to hear a joke?"

I open my eyes. I'm not getting out of this.

"Sure." as unenthusiastically as I can manage.

He proceeds to tell three jokes all strung together. All of them terrible and none of them coherent enough for me to remember. I gave him complimentary singular chuckles even though two of the punchlines didn't make sense. I think one was about accidentally eating cat food.

"Hey, friend... how'd you like my jokes?"

I jokingly replied back, "Well, you said *a* joke and that was *three* jokes. That wasn't what I agreed to."

He chuckles and I close my eyes again.

"Hey, friend."

Jesus Christ, would someone jingle their keys for this dude?

"Do you want to hear a 'locker room' joke?"

Oh fuck me.

"I... guess?"

There was no way out of this aside from unpleasant confrontation and my energy calculation of that was much higher than just suffering through a dirty joke.

Here it is, as best as I can remember...

"So there is a pirate ship. And the captain has a beautiful daughter who has come aboard. He tells her that the crew hasn't seen a woman in a long time and they aren't safe to be around, so she should keep a razor blade 'down there.' After the voyage he assembles all of his men and instructs them to pull down their pants. Every one of them has had their dick cut off... except for one. The captain goes up to the only one with their dick intact and says, 'Thank you for not deflowering my only daughter. You should be commended for your restraint. And as a reward, I will make you my first mate.'"

I literally cannot type the punchline because it was an unintelligible noise. Basically, Mirror Froggie imitated someone without a tongue trying to speak.

Yeah. That happened.

I could not hide my disdain for this joke and I was feeling too awful to muster up any kind of response. He seemed confused by the absence of laughter from his wonderful rapey body mutilation joke.

"You get it, friend? He lost his tongue because he ate her pussy."

Yes, explaining the joke always helps... friend.

In whatever the opposite of the nick of time is, moments after this stranger said "ate her pussy"... the nurse calls Mirror Froggie in for his appointment.

I would feel relieved, but the Mounjaro side effects were getting worse and the urge to lose the remaining nutritional value from last night's dinner was increasing by the moment. I was next in line, so I was hoping Mirror Froggie didn't take up too much of the doctor's time with horrible "locker room" jokes and dubious steakhouse suggestions.

Roughly 5 minutes later the nurse calls me in to get my vitals. She weighs me and I am down another 3 pounds. That reminded me of why I was suffering this tummy tantrum. My blood pressure was perfect but my pulse was quite high. I was very anxious holding in my stomach contents and I tried to explain, but she asked me to try and relax to lower my heart rate. We compromised when I got it down to 107.

The nurse keeps forgetting that I don't really have a family anymore. And I know she has a lot of patients in and out and they probably all blend together. But she always ends up asking me questions that require me to remind her my parents are dead.

"Did your mom put up the Christmas tree yet?"

I went with, "No tree this year. Too much work."

"Aw, that's too bad. I actually got mine up early this year. You gotta put up a tree for Christmas."

Thankfully her job was done at this point and she abruptly ended the conversation.

Next up, the pee guy.

He has never actually told me what his name is so that is just what I call him in my head.

Every month I have to sacrifice my urine to the gods of Medicare so they know I am taking my meds and not selling them on the mean streets of Spanish Lake. And the pee guy always comes in to collect my sample. The little cup is kept in a white paper bag for discretion. He used to just give you a clear ziplock, and that was a little embarrassing, as everyone in the waiting room could see your pee. I definitely prefer the new white paper bag system.

It could be my lunch or some cookies or a bunch of peanuts.

Who is to know?

The pee guy is a bit of a talker as well. But the nice thing about his conversational style is that you can't get in a word edgewise. If he asks you a question, he'll even answer it for you. This requires very little effort on my part.

"Hey there, Mr. Benjermin!"

(I have noticed Ben-jer-min is a common pronunciation among Black folks in the area. Not sure if that is just a St. Louis thing or not. Perhaps I have a dialectologist follower who knows.)

I wave hello.

"How's it going, Mr. Benjermin!? Good? Good. Just gotta get your sample. Still taking the same meds? (I nod yes.) Okay, just need you to sign here. New Year's is coming up. Gotta be careful not to party too hard. You'll be regretting that. Though you don't look like a drinker to me. (I nod no.) Yeah, you're a good one. You keep it clean. Okay then, Mr. Benjermin. You're all set. Here is your new sample cup for next time."

He replaces my white paper bag with a new white paper bag and leaves the room without me saying a word. And I'm just realizing he asks me if I am a drinker quite a lot. He must sense my teetotaler spirit or something because he always assumes (correctly) that I don't drink. He's just really concerned about me partying too hard.

Finally the doctor comes in.

My doctor is kind, compassionate, and competent. The almost 3 Cs. But he's got a touch of what I call "Boomer-itis." He's on the progressive side of most things but there are a few ingrained sensibilities from that generation he didn't escape. It's mostly harmless. Though he said something sexist in front of a nurse practitioner student during my last visit that made her roll her eyes behind him.

He greets me and I tell him I'm not feeling well from the Mounjaro and that I am still recovering from my trip to Florida. He tells me that a lot of people can get sick for days from these new drugs, so getting sick for an hour or two isn't so bad. I agree, though I really wish I had not gotten sick at the exact time of this appointment. I keep eyeballing the trash can in the corner just in case things go sideways in my tummy.

He asks about my trip to Florida and I predicted that—as I already had photos ready to go on my phone. I scroll through them, showing off amazing cityscapes and mountainous clouds and an orange sunset over a lake—hoping to impress him with my photography skills to no avail. And then he sees Katrina. Now, I am not blind to her attractiveness, but I do sometimes forget how people respond when they see her next to me.

"Oh, wow. She's beautiful!" he exclaims.

I almost felt flattered on her behalf. But then his Boomer-itis starts to kick in. And he repeats, "Yeah, she's *really* beautiful. Just a friend, you said?" His facial expression and tone of voice are like, "You poor thing, you have been friendzone'd." And probably a touch of, "She's out of your league, buddy." I don't know exactly how to describe it, but it is this familiar look of pity and worry. This is usually followed up with a probing question trying to figure out what our "deal" is. Why is it so odd to that generation that a man and woman can earnestly be just friends and perfectly content with that arrangement?

It would be the easiest thing in the world to just say, "She's gay" and that she isn't "out of my league" as she plays an entirely different sport. (Competitive Subaru Ownership?) But my friendship with Katrina is not some consolation prize due to her queerness. I shouldn't have to explain or justify why I'm "just friends" or why I'm not "being led on."

In a worried tone, "So, umm, how'd you two meet?"

There it is.

"She is an artist. I posted some of her work on my website and it was very popular and helped people find her work. She messaged me to say thank you and we were instant friends. 10 years later she's my best friend and very much like family."

Thankfully his pity face evaporated and he finally saw how long-lasting and meaningful this friendship was. But it is a weirdly common obstacle I have noticed whenever people see a fat guy has a conventionally attractive friend.

Friends are great. Friends have been more supportive and beneficial to me than any romantic entanglement I've ever had.

All of my friends are hot and queer and that's awesome.

Note to self: Put that on a t-shirt.

Knowing how difficult it was, he congratulated me on surviving the trip and we wrapped up our appointment quickly. All I have left to do is check in with his assistant, get my prescriptions sent in, and make my next appointment. I can see the finish line, but my tummy is rumbling and I am making contingency plans for the Great Upchuck of 2023™. I'm clocking trashcans with plastic liners. I'm trying to remember where the nearest restroom is. And then I look down at the little white paper bag containing my urine sample cup and think, "Last resort."

Trinica (the competence ninja and my favorite person in the office) is processing my meds and searching the calendar for next month's visit. Shelly is keeping quiet and working on her computer. I start pacing back and forth. I'm not sure what I think that will do, but I think desperation is taking over at this point.

Shelly sees me and asks, "How's that whole disability situation going for you?" She is acting like my best friend now after cursing at me on the phone. I have a feeling she had an unpleasant conversation with my doctor after that episode because she isn't this sweet and nice to anyone.

I give her the update, "Everything is submitted. My lawyer is happy with all of the records we were able to find. It's just a waiting game now. It could be a couple of months but if I have to see a judge it could be over a year."

She commiserates with me about how slow the process can be.

Then, out of fucking nowhere, Mirror Froggie reappears in the little sliding reception window like a jumpscare in a horror movie.

Are you fucking kidding me with this guy?

"Hey Trinica, do you have a business card for the doctor? I want to recommend him to Doug."

Who the fuck is Doug? Are we supposed to know Doug? Is Doug the tongueless pussy-eating pirate who needs medical attention?

Trinica looks in her desk and is unable to find a spare card. So she stops processing my stuff and starts hunting around the office. She has a bad leg so she is slowly limping while searching every desk. I have never wanted to strangle anyone before, but my doppeldouche was really pushing his luck.

At this point I am just staring at the little trash can in the blood-draw room. I can feel the scrambled eggs reversing course through my digestive system.

Trinica finds a fucking card for fucking Doug and fucking Mirror Froggie finally fucks off to bother people that are not me.

Trinica gets me all sorted, I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and make to the car.

I sit in the driver's seat, and with that unearned optimism, say to myself, "I made it."

For all of you who are squeamish about bodily fluids, you can just pretend this is where the story ends. Everything was fine. I made it home and was happy and comfortable and nothing gross happened. The nausea faded away and I lived happily ever after.

The End.

Thank you for reading this and have a lovely day.

Just scroll on by to the next post!

Okay, so you all probably thought I was foreshadowing a monumental barf.

But foreshadowing is typically subtle. You don't want to give away the ending. Of course this was going to end in barf. The barfing was inevitable. The barf was not what I was *actually* foreshadowing at all.

Did anyone catch what it was?

You know that discrete white paper bag?

The one that could be for peanuts or maybe a sammich and definitely not my urine sample cup?

The last resort?

Look, it's all I had.

I was not going to make it home. I was not going to make it back into the bathroom. No trash bins on the horizon. Nothing in my car.

At first it was just an itty bitty baby barf. A perfect amount to be contained in a flimsy paper bag. I felt a relief wash over me.

"That's all?" still being stupidly optimistic.

But then I made that noise.

That... pre-retch noise.

That one where your head kinda juts forward and your lips make a giant O shape and you make a very specific grunting sound. That sound where if another person hears it, they involuntarily make the same specific grunting sound.

This was when I had one of those movie moments when a character knows they are about to die and they can't do anything about it. And I made this exact face as I waited for the impending doom of a vomitous explosion.

The Great Upchuck of 2023™ commenced.

And it was... intense.

Everything inside my stomach transferred rapidly, furiously, projectile-ly into the bag of foreshadowing.

I mean, I'm pretty much convinced my stomach is a TARDIS because I do not remember ingesting that much food. This sheer volume of barf had to be coming from another dimensional plane.

I could see it staining the sides of the bag as it was clearly not meant for this. When I finished it was barely intact—soggy, if you will. When I was absolutely sure I had ralph'd to completion, my only option was to gently place it on the passenger's side floor (sans floor mats). All I needed was for it to last 5 more minutes on the trip home and then I could dispose of it and pretend this never happened.

Physically I felt such a relief. Sometimes there is this post-puke euphoria where you just feel, well... lighter. Unburdened with no longer having that feeling. Happy it is over with.

I place the key in the ignition and head for home. As I'm driving I can't help but stare at the bag. I can see it mocking me as it changes colors. The exterior was getting... damp. If this were someone else's vomit, I would have been vomiting because of it. Just... so gross.

I get home and park the car. I walk around to the passenger side to begin the extraction process. I pull the trash can close and I have to psych myself up to deal with this horrible hurling happenstance.

And this next part, well... it would be hilarious if it weren't so damned disgusting.

I stare at the bag.

The bag stares back at me.

I take a deep breath and approach the bag.

The bag grins at me.

I gingerly grasp the very tippy-top in an effort to not touch any of the offending material.

I slowly lift up the bag.

And the very instant it reaches just enough height to do the most damage...

The bottom falls out.

If the bag had broken just as I was picking it up, the carnage would have been minimal. Only a small area to clean up. But clearly this bag read the Wikipedia page on air burst nuclear weapons. It knew you get a much more devastating blast radius if you detonate from an elevated position.

A TARDIS worth of partially digested scrambled eggs just pour and splatter and spray onto the floor of my car. It looked like the bag was puking out my puke.

The bag is now dead but I can feel its ghost laughing at me.

I stand there frozen holding the top of this evil deceased white paper bag trying and failing to process what just happened.

I realize I have no idea what to do with this situation. This is something that would usually be followed with, "MOoooOOOoooommmmm! How do I clean up vomit?"

And she would say, "You'll never do it right. I'll clean it up."

And I'd pretend to be like, "Oh no, it's my mess. I could never let you do that for me."

And she'd insist and break out her endless supply of very specific cleaning potions and magics and soon it would be as if the vomit didn't even exist.

So, I guess my question is... do I have to get my car detailed now?

The Actual End.

#long post #the inevitable adventures of froggie #trigger warning #vomit mention #rape mention

133 notes · View notes

noroi1000 · 1 year

Note

can u do a piece where suguru and reader broke up and suguru chase reader everywhere and then (u can do whatever u want with this!)

Crazy plan (slight yandere Geto x reader)

"This isn't okay!" You screamed as you watched as your dark, long hair billowed in the wind as it stood in front of him.

"It's not okay that you want to break up with me for no reason!" He told you with an angry face.

"You said you don't know if it makes sense for us to be together, Suguru. I answer you. It made sense so far. Now... Why do you hate non-sorcerers now?" you asked, calming your emotions for a moment. To at least try to talk to him.

You loved him. And you couldn't stop. You will still love him. But until he realizes that his thinking doesn't make sense, you two need to break up. For your safety. Physical and mental.

You don't know what he can do when he's like this.

If he hates people who aren't sorcerers, how can you help him?

He needs to understand his mistake.

No matter what he does, it won't change. No point in trying, because people never change.

You must continue to argue with him, even if your heart aches when you have to say those few words again:

"Suguru, we have to break off...." you said.

And when he stepped forward and tried to grab you with his hand, you pulled back. Even if you wanted so badly to feel his comforting touch right now.

Your heart was already apologizing to him.

Your hands wanted to grab him to hug him.

You wanted to tie up that messy hair that was cascading down his back and fix it. To make him look neat and well-groomed again.

However, first you had to take care of yours and his psyche.

Maybe he loves you enough to stop thinking about murder. About hating people.

It's as hard for you as it is for Him.

you love him. So. You want to be next to Him forever. But you can't help the fact that what he's thinking right now is crazy.

This is sick...

Your real Suguru would never do such a thing.

Your Suguru has always cared so much for you. He took care of everything around him.

And now...

He wanted to protect you. Saying you two shouldn't be together right now. He wanted to protect you from the fact that he might hurt you.

However, he couldn't live with the thought that you wouldn't be next to him.

You can't be with someone else.

You can't be alone. You think to be only with him.

You've been his girlfriend for almost a year. And you will still be. You will be his girlfriend until the end of the world.

You can be his wife if you agree.

To the end of the world.

And if you don't, he still loved you more. He will always be with you anyway. And only with you.

"Suguru, I'm sorry." You said and turned around. Walking a few meters away.

His heart started beating faster and faster.

His world stopped.

All he saw was your back as you walked forward.

He felt cold.

He always expected to lose, but he could never lose you.

You decided you had to break up. He knew it was hard for you.

He never wanted it. Because knowing that you two are going to break up is even more painful for him than the worst wound he could possibly have. More painful than death.

He saw you walking slowly forward.

He always tried to stay calm. However, now...

His eyes went wild.

Just knowing that he might lose you is too much for him. Far too much.

His eyes started to sting. Like he's about to cry.

What's he got to live for if it's not you?

His desires are not more important than yours. You are more important to him.

Whatever he can do only when you are next to him.

He won't give up what he wants.

And he wants you.

Therefore, you will be with him.

No matter what. You are everything to him. You are his loss and love.

All at once. There was always something special between you two.

He knew you didn't want to leave him. He knew it well. And he would never forget it.

He would never be able to think that you are his enemy. Because you are his love.

He moved his hand towards you.

Like he wants to catch you. stop you.

You turned around for a moment to look at him out of the corner of your eye.

Seeing his desperation and sadness, single tears started to flow from your eyes. You tried to grab his hand but it was too late.

You slowly cut the bond between you with the scissors.

And he and you felt the pain as it was cut further and further.

Until finally his pain turned into something like desire.

He wanted a better world. And a better world can only be if you are with it.

His eyes became sharp, dark.

Although there was still sadness on his face, there was also regret for what he was about to do.

"(y/n), please stop..." he called to you. Calm and sad. Almost silent.

However, you heard his words right. As if he was right behind you. Even if you were meters apart. Like he's talking right into your ear.

"Stop." He said more firmly.

Na The sound of his voice made you cry even more. You wanted to apologize to him, tell him you loved him. However, you couldn't. You had to wait for him to calm down. Until he doesn't want to change the world on his own.

It was the craziest plan you could have had.

Because you left the man you loved so much.

You had a crazy plan to leave him because he had a crazy plan. It couldn't have happened. It couldn't work.

A painful, crazy plan.

Suddenly you heard a chuckle and a black wall appeared in front of you.

"Baby... I know you love me... And you can't just leave it like that. I didn't agree to this..." he said calmly. "Turn to me. Show me your face."

You felt something wrap around your leg, then the other leg. Then hands.

You were immediately turned to him.

At that moment he was standing in front of you.

His face came very close to yours. His lips brushed yours softly.

Strands of his black bangs brushed against your cheeks.

He's bound you with a curse, and he won't let you go.

That's not his style. He would never do that to you.

Unless something happened that he never wanted.

"You can't leave me. You must always be with me. I love you, and I know you love me."

His fingers cupped both sides of your cheeks.

He squeezed your skin gently, smiling at your lovely face.

"We will continue to live together. And I will change the world for you. You are everything to me."

#jjk x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto satoru #geto suguru angst #suguru geto #Yandere Geto #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujustu kaisen

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