#i just was watching that trio and thought….something feels familiar

[anna-scribbles]

someone more attuned to the feligami agenda than i am should make a pride and prejudice au where darcy, caroline, & bingley —> felix, chloe, & adrien

#i’m watching p&p rn can you tell #i just was watching that trio and thought….something feels familiar #ml #p&p #anna rambles

[celtic-crossbow]

You Would Break Your Back to Make Me Break a Smile

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria era

Warnings: Poorly written smut

Summary: A run goes sideways, leaving you and Daryl to spend the night together in a remote cabin. Nothing new until feelings are thrown into the equation.

A/N: This was originally written for my old OC. It also explored asexual Daryl and there are still elements of that here.

You pulled the corner of your bottom lip between your teeth, concentrating on keeping your arm still. The urge to overthrow your opponent was strong, but you had to play fair. Cheating was not an option. It wasn’t until you were mercilessly pinned for the fifth time in a row that you considered cheating may actually be an option after all. 

“Ugh!” You groaned quietly, struggling to free yourself. 

“You’re the one wanted to play,” came the gravelly response. 

You conjured an unimpressed scowl. “Again.” When he didn’t immediately move to oblige, you raised your brows, angled your head for a better view, and elbowed him. “Come on. Again.” A heavy sigh resounded, but he finally raised his arm and clasped your waiting hand, blue eyes avoiding your overconfident grin. Shaking out your shoulder in preparation, you blew upwards to rid your face of an unruly strand of hair and recited “one, two, three, four; I declare a thumb war!”

After three more failed attempts, you finally gave up but not without a massive pout and another jab at his ribs. You flipped unceremoniously onto your back, the point of his elbow resting just above the top of your head. Whether due to chivalry or something else, he had offered to sleep on the floor, but you weren't having that. The full bed was plenty big enough for both of you. It wouldn’t be the first time you had shared a bed. “Your thumbs are longer than mine.”

Daryl scoffed. “Right.” He drawled, the hand he had been using joining the other behind his head. He stared at the ceiling as the last rays of daylight began to crawl away from the looming shadows of the night. It was only a matter of time before he’d hear the familiar growls and moans and the ever unsettling bump of undead bodies against the outer walls. 

“Wanna play Never Have I Ever?” 

Your voice drew him from his thoughts with barely a start. “D’rather not.” You didn’t know. You didn’t need to know. 

You let out a sigh. “We don’t have any liquor anyway.”  A pause. “Truth or dare?”

“S’with ya?” He asked, regarding you from the corner of his eye. You didn’t answer right away; only wiggled around until your hip was pressed tightly against his own. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t flinched at the contact and continued to watch you.

“Nothing, silly.” You replied quietly. The need to be near silent when outside the protective walls of your home was imperative. It was also something the spitfire at his side struggled with even when that need was near dire. 

Daryl narrowed his eyes but said nothing else. You had been around him long enough for him to catch the dismissive undertone. The run had gone smoothly for the most part: few walkers, a myriad of medical supplies and canned foods to fill your packs and a couple of milk crates, and even a few stale candy bars you had snagged for a treat on the ride back. It was the living, breathing trio that had been in the middle of stealing the car when the two of you had exited that became the problem. Shots were fired, drawing more of the undead. A bolt had taken down one adversary, the other two making off with the rusted Buick that was meant to be your way home. 

So, you had set out on foot. The supplies sorted and consolidated to fit in your packs and one crate, Daryl had insisted you carry it so he could keep his crossbow at the ready. No more than a dozen walkers were tailing you, but they had been easy enough to either lose or dispatch once you had found the simple cabin that would be your shelter for the night. 

Yes, you had lost the car and had the grueling trek that would take at least most of tomorrow’s daylight hours before reaching that familiar gate, but neither of you were injured, you had food, and you were relatively safe for the night. So, what was bothering you?

“Hey, Daryl?” 

Maybe he was about to find out. 

“Hmm?” He had finally allowed his gaze to settle back on the ceiling only to have it find you once again. You were staring upward intently, a small crease between your brows. That ceiling must have been extremely interesting, the way you both seemed to get lost in it. 

“Have you—ever been in love?” There was a hesitance, a shyness to your question that was evident yet unplanned, as you closed your eyes and your face twisted while a silent curse fell from your curled lips. ‘Nice job, idiot!’ You didn’t watch his reaction, positive that the question had caught him off guard. He didn’t move or make a sound, which had your stomach twisting into knots. This was not how you had wanted this conversation to start; not even close to what you had rehearsed over and over in your head since the prison. “I mean—have you—did you ever—that is to say—”

“No.” It was a simple but honest answer. Daryl had never found time for it; never found he wanted to make time for it. Sure, he had experience with women, thanks to his brother, copious amounts of liquor, and a few twenties scattered over the years of his youth, but no relationships of which to speak. He just was never a sexual being, lacking any desire and overwhelmed by peer pressure and pent up emotion. It was never about connection. He had never let anyone that close. 

“Oh.” You weren't sure what answer you had expected. You thought maybe he would berate you for thinking he cared for such girlish notions. Perhaps he would laugh at you; tell you he had been a player like Merle. Instead, he had answered and was now staring at you from behind the fringe of hair that always found its way over his eyes. You managed a glance at him before you lifted one side of your jacket to study the zipper. “What about Carol?”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “S’not like that with me an’ her.”

“Oh.” You repeated.

“Why?” He countered. And god, he was still looking at you. 

You cleared your throat and turned onto your side to face him. Still, your eyes found everything in the room except his gaze. “Do you think it exists?” You avoided his question. Daryl watched you prop yourself up on your elbow, your dainty fingers reaching for the hem of his jacket. “Like—like there's someone out there for everyone?” You fiddled with a loose thread and glanced up at him from under your long, dark lashes. His handsome face held a mixture of exasperation and confusion. You would have giggled at his plight had your nerves not been twisting around like live wires in your gut. 

Daryl Dixon was your best friend, a title he earned back when your little family was still new—even if you both would have vehemently denied it. He had appointed himself your protector, your instructor. He endured you at your worst, still managing to teach you how to protect yourself; how to survive. You had thrown actual weapons at his head while spouting insults that he didn’t even understand. Daryl had had no problem retaliating, using any and all information he had known of you to produce digs that would make your blood boil or your eyes grow wet. Actual friendship came later and more naturally than he’d probably ever care to admit. Daryl would actually request you to accompany him on runs, trusting you enough to have his back. Your once venomous verbal attacks had softened into banter accompanied by elbow jabs and hair ruffles. You began to enjoy each other's company.

Eventually, the brush of his fingertips over your bicep as he steered you out of harm’s way had begun to send electric pulses into your skin, kickstarting a thumping of your heart that was so loud in your ears, it would drown out the pandemonium around you.  Your name from his lips would send shivers up your spine. The times you had bunked together, you found yourself stealing glances at him while he slept, kept watch, ate, worked on his crossbow. Everything he did was like seeing a unicorn. You were fascinated by him, in awe of this man who seemed to be born and molded for the end of the world. More often than not, he slept next to you, offering his warmth against the winter chill or his presence against the demons that knocked in your nightmares.  He held you while you mourned those you had lost. Daryl was quite easily your favorite person. That, and more. And that is what scared you.

“Dunno.” The archer gave a halfhearted shrug. He couldn’t claim to have never thought about what it would be like settling down with someone; having a family. Settling with you, if he was being honest. Images often invited themselves into the forefront of his mind. You wearing his ring while you chopped vegetables for a stew you were making with Carol. You would bring him a beer and perch yourself on his lap while he had a cigarette on the front porch swing of the home you shared. You’d even steal the smoke right from his lips and take a long draw before offering it back. He’d seen your belly swollen and prominent under your sundress while you hung laundry on the line in the backyard. You cradled a tiny baby in the crook of your arm, leaning so that your family could see the infant’s face. He banished the visions with a minute shake of his head, sitting up and angling to the side so he could regard you properly. “S’this ‘bout, woman?” 

Your mouth opened before snapping shut again with an audible click of your teeth. ‘Don’t chicken out now!’ Daryl’s expression was unreadable, and that alone was terrifying. All the time you had spent together, you were sure you had become fluent in Daryl Dixon. “I—” You sat up quickly, matching his position, not so much to face him but because you had needed to move before the words that were swelling in your throat came spilling out in the wrong order and ruined everything. 

“Ya alright?” Daryl ducked his head to seek out your gaze, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was a strange conversation. He bit back the urge to ask if it was ‘that time of the month.’ Once upon a time, Carol had explained to him why that was frowned upon. “S’really on your mind?”

Was he imagining things or was the distance between you dissipating?

“It’s just—”  You were chewing on your bottom lip, pulling your knees underneath you and then you were right in front of him, lowering to sit on your hip. His brow knitted, Daryl resisted the urge to move, holding his gaze on your face. He could feel your breath mingling with his own now, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to those shimmering irises. Peripherally, he could see your hands on either side of his face, hovering scant inches away. 

“Is—is this okay?” You whispered.

Daryl didn’t answer, not right away. He was too busy trying to control the overbearing thudding behind his ribs. His breathing had picked up, and he was certain he may hyperventilate right there on the spot. ‘Too close. Too close.’ Someway, somehow, he still found himself nodding. 

“Okay.” You breathed against his mouth, your lips tickling his own before meeting them in a gentle press. Your eyes fluttered closed while his widened and stared off into nothing, as if he could see right through you. Your hands finally rested against the sides of his face, your thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones. It wasn’t until your lips parted slightly that the archer snapped out of his stupor and reciprocated, placing his left hand over your right on his face while your mouths moved, slow and deliberate. 

When you pulled back, just far enough to see his expression, his eyes slowly opened (when had he closed them?). You stayed that way for several heartbeats, searching one another. Your hands were still on his face, his larger fingers slowly curling around yours before he moved both to the sliver of mattress that remained between you. 

Unfamiliar emotions swirling in his chest were making it difficult to breathe, constricting and contracting around his heart like a pulsating vice. A war was raging within him and there you were, patient and grounding while you waited for him to work through his inner turmoil. Your pretty eyes lowered as if you knew he couldn’t think while trapped under the weight of your gaze. 

“Look, Daryl—”

“Don’t.” 

You looked at him then. He was staring at your still joined hands between you, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles. His eyes were narrowed, a crease between his brows. He looked vaguely uncomfortable and you wanted nothing more than to reach out but something told you he wouldn’t dare let go of your hand at that moment. Several more beats of silence passed and he still hadn’t spoken another word.

You licked your suddenly dry lips, feeling an odd sense of panic. Was it time to defuse the situation? “We don’t have to talk about this.” You offered, keeping still when you felt his hand tighten around yours. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Do it again.”

“What?” It was your turn to knit your brows. 

He still didn’t look at you but he angled his head back toward you. “Again. What ya did.”

“Kiss you?” 

He gave a curt nod.

You hesitated. “Okay.” You lifted the hand he wasn’t holding to cup his cheek, slotting your mouth over his. He returned the kiss immediately this time, just as gently as before. Just as you thought of pulling back, his free hand came up to cradle the back of your head. Your eyes flew open for but a mere heartbeat before fluttering closed. You melted into the moment, only then noticing the enticing roughness of his chapped lips; the tickle of his scruffy facial hair against your skin. It was quite possibly the most tender kiss you had ever received. No clashing of tongues and teeth; only simple and soft movements of your mouths. You could easily become addicted.

He pulled back first this time, but his hand remained in your hair. Daryl tipped his head forward to touch your foreheads together. “Y/N.” He whispered, not really sure why. He just needed to say your name. The archer wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He knew how much he adored you, needed you in his life but this was too much. He felt like a raw, exposed nerve and wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go from here. 

You pulled away then and Daryl’s head snapped up to watch you. You sat up on your knees and peeled your jacket from your shoulders before tossing it onto the floor. He all but gulped, sure of where this was headed when you reached for his own jacket.

Pushing one shoulder free, you moved to the next and risked a glance at his bicep, the muscles flexing rhythmically under his skin when he lifted his arm to toss the wadded-up leather over your head. Your pulse accelerated and you took a calming breath before reaching for his vest. “You can tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” You popped the first button free and then the next, flicking your gaze up to his but he was watching the nimble movements of your fingers. “Daryl.” He looked up immediately. “All you have to do is say the word.” 

After a moment, he nodded almost imperceptibly. He watched you spread open his vest and push it from his shoulders. He shrugged it off so you could toss it over with your jacket. You sat back on your heels and grabbed the hem of your shirt, pausing for a moment to give him time to interject. When he said nothing, you pulled the garment over your head. With calculated movements, you reached for the front of his dark gray button-up, once again pausing. Daryl couldn’t bring himself to stop you. When the last button was free, you slipped your fingers under the fabric to part it. It was then that the archer felt panic bubble up into this throat, his eyes going wide. He grabbed your wrist so quickly that he hadn’t been aware of the action until he heard your gasp. “Wait—”

You stared at him, briefly alarmed before your eyes softened in understanding. The hand he wasn’t holding gently cradled his cheek. “I’ve seen them before.” 

He knew that. You had tended to so many wounds during your time together, but insecurity ensured that he acknowledged the cursed existence of the mars on his flesh. With a deep breath through his nose, his hands replaced yours to slowly rid himself of the shirt, the fringed edges of the cut-off sleeves tickling his skin. You grabbed it up and twisted your body to add the garment to the ever-growing pile. Your breath caught in your throat as his calloused fingertips brushed your skin. With a quick glance, you smiled softly at the bare curiosity in his gaze. You turned almost fully away from him while unsnapping the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms and to the floor with a quiet sound. 

You looked over your shoulder, your head lowered so that only your eyes were visible. He could see the slight squint of your sparkling orbs. You were smiling at him and his heartrate quickened at the thought of seeing the expression clearly. He remained oblivious of his own expression and the fact that his rare grin and the soft whispers of his fingertips were solely responsible for the way you were looking at him. 

You turned then, returning to your knees, giving him a clear view of your smile—and your naked torso. Daryl felt the heat rise in his face and travel all the way to the tips of his ears. He’d seen a naked woman before but never so calmly; so intimately. 

You noticed his discomfort and tilted your head thoughtfully. “It’s okay to touch me, Daryl.” Your voice was quiet and soft, like you weren't sure if he’d follow through with the gentle command. 

And he didn’t. 

The archer determinedly kept his eyes on your face. It was cute but you’d never tell him so. You moved closer, the air between you scarce enough to take Daryl’s breath. Your lips ghosted over his while your fingers trekked a featherlight path down his arm before settling on his hand. You wrapped your hand around his and lifted it to place his palm on your left breast, keeping your fingers secure enough to ground him. 

“I want this.” You whispered against his mouth. You felt his fingers twitch before his thumb swept slowly over your nipple. You drew in a sharp breath and closed your eyes. Your skin felt chilled at the sudden loss of his touch when he quickly retracted his hand. Your eyes reopened to find his flickering back and forth between your gaze and your chest. 

The sudden press of his mouth on yours had you gasping again before you settled, bringing both hands to his shoulders. His fingers danced over your skin again, his other hand joining the first to stimulate both pebbled buds with gentle twists. How many nights had you dreamed of him touching you like this?

You hesitantly swept your tongue over his bottom lip before withdrawing, testing his reaction. You didn’t want to push him past his comfort level; no matter how badly you wanted him. When his mouth opened and you felt him lick against the crease of your lips, it was over. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in the greasy strands to pull him closer while you drank in the smoky taste of him. Daryl seemed to be finding a tentative level of confidence, twisting to bring one leg onto the bed, bent at the knee. His rough hands left your chest to slide down your sides, fingers hooking into your belt loops and using them to pull you closer. You let out a squeak which the archer eagerly swallowed before you broke apart, both panting. Your foreheads rested together, Daryl’s eyes closed while you scrutinized him for any sign that he may not want to venture further. 

“Daryl?”

“Will ya take these off?” He questioned hoarsely with a small tug on the loops of your pants. You answered with a nod, pulling his hands away so you could back off the mattress and stand. Daryl watched you intently, your slender fingers popping open the button before sliding down the zipper. When you had shimmied the pants down to mid-calf, you bent to undo the laces of your boots, toeing them off along with your socks. The archer couldn’t help but smirk when you straightened. Of course you weren’t wearing underwear. 

“I’ve shown you mine.  Will you show me yours?” You purred, crawling back onto the bed. 

Daryl scoffed and put his hand on your face while he stood, giving you a playful shove. You laughed quietly, but still reached for his belt. He tried to take a step back and you quickly released him. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

He was wearing that expression again, uncertainty warring with desire. He wanted you. God, did he want you in every way he could possibly have you. The heat that had begun to pool low in his belly was not unfamiliar yet unnerving. This would change everything. You could never go back to what you already had. And would you understand him? Would you accept him for all that he was?

And for all that he wasn’t?

“No.” Goddamnit, he wanted to try. He stepped forward again but you didn’t reach for him. “S’just—” he hesitated, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. This beautiful creature was sitting bare and you wanted him, of all people. What if he couldn’t be what you wanted? “Don’t usually care ‘bout this kinda shit.” He thought for a moment that he very well might vomit. You were sitting on your heels now, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. You looked like you were working out some complicated math problem in your head. Daryl barely suppressed his flinch when it was obvious you’d reached a conclusion. 

“Sex.” You stated matter-of-factly at the same time the first sound of a walker clumsily stumbling into the side of the cabin brought both your gazes to the door. You could barely see one another now, day having given way to night several moments ago and your one candle giving the place a gentle orange hue that neither of you sought to complain about when it was dancing across the skin of the other. There were no windows but the archer wondered if the light could be seen through the cracks in the old door, barricaded as it was. 

When the snarls and shuffling continued to pass you by, you looked to him again. Daryl was looking at the floor, any expression hidden behind the curtain of his hair. You remained quiet. He had heard you, so you would wait him out. Pushing would only make him withdraw. You sat back on your hip and pulled the dusty blanket up to cover yourself for the time being. If sex really did make him uncomfortable, having a conversation about it with your goodies saluting him from the bed would not help matters. 

“Yeah.” Daryl finally spoke after a few more moments. “S’not just—” he paused to shift his weight from one foot to the other, “just ain’t never been important ‘less Merle was chasin’ some tail. A distraction’s all it were.” He sighed, crossing his arms with his hands in his armpits. He looked so uncomfortable that it made your heart ache. 

You nodded, not even sure if he was looking at you. “When was the last—”

“‘Fore the world went to shit.”

A while then. You chewed the inside of your cheek. You suddenly felt too exposed, pulling the blanket up further. Where do you go from here? With another glance at him, there was another sharp twinge in your chest. For a man made for the end of the world, he appeared incredibly small and vulnerable right now. “Will you come sit down?”

From the way he angled his head, you could tell he looked at you. A heartbeat passed and he dropped his arms, his footfalls near silent as he approached the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight and you found he chose to sit surprisingly close to you. Your knees were barely pressed against his hip. 

You were still utterly naked under that old blanket; your heartrate had picked up speed at his proximity. You couldn’t tell if you were anxious or aroused and you wondered if you should get dressed and deal with the latter on your own once you returned home instead of pressing him further. “Do you want to keep talking about this?” You gently probed. 

“Not really,” was his immediate response. Your mouth opened to comfort him but he cut you off. “Guess we have to, though.”

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Nah, s’okay. D’rather talk to you ‘bout it than anyone else.” 

You smiled softly and felt confident enough to reach for his hand. Your movement brought his head to turn toward you and he didn’t flinch away when your fingertips brushed his. After a moment, your tongue darted out to wet your lips and you took a breath. “Since the end, have you ever, you know? With yourself?” 

He seemed to deflate, the shake of his head so minute that you would have missed it had you not been so keenly observing him. 

“Do you ever have the urge to?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Somethin’s wrong with me.”

“Daryl.” He looked up at you, blue eyes piercing through his dark hair. It hit you like a freight train. “There is nothing wrong with you.” You could only imagine how he must have felt around his brother. How isolated, how different. You wondered if he had ever told his brother, but decided against asking. “A lot of people just aren’t that into sex, old world and new one.” His steady gaze never wavered. You smiled and let go of his hand to brush his hair away from his left eye before wrapping your fingers around his once again. “You’re just Daryl. And that’s more than okay.”

“Huh.” He muttered after a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours. 

“If it’s okay to ask though,” you ventured. Your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, you squeezed his hand, “how were you feeling just now? With me?” You added with a shaky breath. He didn’t retreat, so that was good. You still didn’t want to push him into anything he didn’t want, but rather help him figure out what it was he did want; sort through his feelings. If he turned you down, you would be disappointed, of course. But his comfort, his safety, and well-being; those came first. If you could never have him in that way, you would live with that. 

“I, uh—it weren’t a bad feelin’.”

So it was a good feeling? Maybe? Shit. Now what? “Okay, okay.” you nodded. “Do you want to call it a night then and just—”

“No.”

His hand squeezed yours so fast that you nearly squeaked in surprise. You did, however, let go of the blanket you held against your chest with the other hand. “Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling the fabric up once again before Daryl grabbed your wrist. You watched him chew on his lip, his eyes overflowing with something you had never seen there before. 

“Wanna try. I‘ve wanted to try with ya for a long time.” His Adam’s Apple bobbed while he swallowed around the words. “If ya ain’t changed your mind.” The statement came out more like a question, his voice quieter with a slight tremble. 

‘ve wanted ta try with ya fer a long time.

You felt the swirling motion of butterflies in your stomach, your heartrate skyrocketing as you allowed the blanket to fall. Moving slowly, you twisted your wrist in his grip to clasp his hand and pressed forward to throw a leg over his lap. Sitting on his thighs, you gently took hold of both his hands and placed them on the curve of your hips. “We’ll take this slow, okay?” You reached to push back his hair so his eyes were visible. He gave a jerky nod, fingers twitching against your skin. 

“Alright.”

You cupped his face and brought your mouths together once again. This time, there was no hesitance when you opened up to him and beckoned his tongue. The gentle push and pull of the kiss lasted until the need for air became dire, and Daryl pulled away from you only to ghost open-mouthed whispers across your jaw and down to your pulse. Your fingers moved to his hair again and your head fell back, offering the expanse of your throat to him. He nipped and lapped at the flesh between your ear and the junction of your shoulder, earning a breathy moan when he latched on to tattoo a kiss onto the surface. The archer couldn’t help but shiver and moved his hands to splay them open across your spine, tipping you so his mouth could properly explore the valley between your breasts. 

His tongue and lips wandered aimlessly, and he found himself perfectly content in connecting the myriad of freckles that were littered across there. He found all of them adorable, especially the ones that traveled around the rims of your ears. Maybe he’d tell you that one day soon. Like this, he could almost forget the anxiety attempting to claw its way through his ribcage and get lost in warmth of your skin beneath his lips and at the mercy of his tongue. He moved slowly, probably too slowly but eh, he was rusty. He barely remembered any of the other experiences and, truthfully, he didn’t care to in the least. He would be more than fine pretending they had never happened.

“Daryl.”

He shivered at the sound of his name falling from those lips. The same ones that were parted and panting while fingers twisted in his hair, urging him onward. He kissed across the swell of your right breast, tongue teasing a circle around the nipple before he pulled it between his teeth and bit down. The sound you made was intoxicating and he was plenty willing to elicit more of the same from you just before he felt your hips press down and grind against him, successfully making him see stars and release his hold on you in favor of hissing between his teeth. 

Feeling him go rigid, you sat up straight, breathing heavily. “What’s wrong?” You panted, tucking his hair behind his ears while searching his face for answers. “Are you okay?” 

Daryl blinked a few times before finally realizing you were talking to him in close proximity. “Uh—yeah. Yeah, m’fine.”

You narrowed your eyes. He was still completely tense, his fingers digging into your back with enough force to bruise. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No. S’just—”

“Just what?” You watched him closely. So far, he’d yet to move but then his hands were sliding down your back to firmly grasp your hips and— “Oh. Oh!” Sudden understanding rang clear when proof of his desire for you could be felt through the fabric of his trousers. Your brain warred between smugness and sympathy. You had made him feel that way but it had been so long that it had taken him by surprise. “What do you want to do from here?” Whisking away a section of hair that had fallen back into his face, you otherwise remained still. 

“Get up.” He stated hoarsely. It came out a little rougher than he’d meant, but you’d obeyed so he wouldn’t linger on it. 

You sat in the center of the bed and watched him stand. You were grateful for what little you had done, for the things he had shared with you. If this was how he chose to end the scenario, you would smile and support him fully. There could be a next time. He was obviously attracted to you. This was enough. Whatever he felt comfortable giving you was enough. 

Crawling to the top of the old bed, you pulled down the covers on the other side before reaching for your discarded clothing. You stopped less than halfway through the motion when you heard the zipper of his pants. Looking back to him, you found him toeing off his boots while his undone trousers remained on his hips. For the moment. 

“Daryl?”

“C’mere.” He beckoned you with a finger, curling it under your chin as you crawled closer. The archer bent to meet you halfway and captured your lips in a desperate embrace, pushing down his trousers and stepping out of them. The kiss continued even as he struggled to remove one sock at a time, balancing on one leg and causing you to giggle against his mouth. “Shuddup.” He retorted with no real heat. Finally both hands came to cradle your face and gently pull your back. 

“You okay?” You slurred, eyes dark and lips swollen. 

“Yeah.” Daryl tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to catch his breath as he took a moment to just drink you in. “S’not gonna be—”

“I don’t care.” Careful to keep your eyes on his face, you guided him to sit with his back against the headboard, throwing a leg across his lap to hover over him. It would be over quickly. That was a given. But that wasn't the point. “I want whatever you’ll give me, Dixon.” You kissed him gently. “I just want you.”

“Yeah?” The corners of his mouth twitched up into a ghost of a smile. “Ya got me, woman.” 

You both groaned as you lowered onto him, Daryl’s face twisting into such a grimace of barely contained pleasure that you were surprised it wasn’t already over for him. “You good?” Your voice sounded small and breathless even to your own ears, but Daryl’s didn’t seem to be working at all. He gave a jerky nod and pulled you toward him, your foreheads meeting as you both breathed through the new feeling. “Let’s just—stay like this for now, yeah?” Another barely there nod, bumping your heads together. 

Your eyes drifted toward the wall when a walker stumbled into the building. Daryl flinched but didn’t move.  It was hard to ignore a threat that close but as long as you remained quiet, that wall would remain between you and the undead shambling along outside. 

Another tender kiss to his lips before you trailed along his jaw, feeling him exhale shakily against your neck. You allowed your mouth to roam further, your tongue dipping out to taste the salt of his skin over his pulse. You could feel it racing away there, almost vibrating. His fingers flexed on your hips, his breaths now coming in shallow pants. There was a slight tremble to his frame making it clear you couldn’t remain this way much longer lest he combust. You pulled away, cupping his face for your thumbs to gently rub over his cheekbones. You didn’t need to say anything. He nodded in spite of the silence. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you moved, releasing as a low moan as your eyes fluttered closed. He felt sublime. Judging by the choked off noise that came from Daryl, he was feeling exactly the same about you. You kept your movements slow and deliberate. Soon enough, he was rocking up to meet you. 

“You, I—” He was gritting his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead and running down to his chin to drip onto his chest. Still rocking, you placed your finger over his lips and then replaced it with your own. 

“I know. It’s okay.” You whispered. He pushed back on your hips, moving you off of him. You wrapped your fingers around him, pumping in slow, languid strokes. There was a mere heartbeat before he gathered you against him with your arm trapped between you, every muscle and tendon frozen hard in blissful agony with a breathy moan of your name against your shoulder. Oh, how you wished you could see his face as he came undone. His warmth flooded over your hand and onto both your stomach and his, his hold unyielding even as his body twitched and shook while you gently coaxed him down from his high with hushed reassurances and tender kisses against his neck. When the spasms stopped and his hold loosened, you gave him a few moments of just resting against you to catch his breath while your fingers carded idly through his hair. 

“How're you doing, Dixon?” You broke the silence with a calm whisper, slightly leaning away to encourage him to move. Daryl carefully laid back against the headboard, eyes still closed and looking more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. “Hey.”

His tired blue eyes slowly opened, blinking lazily before settling on you. “Hey.” When he brought up a hand to graze his knuckles over your cheek, it seemed to be too heavy for him to hold long. His arm fell back to the bed a moment later. “M’sorry.” He mumbled, a furious blush deepening the color of his already flushed face. 

“For?”

He scoffed. “Obvious, ain’t it?” 

“It was perfect.” When he grunted in response, you laughed quietly. You smiled, kissed his cheek, then you crawled off of him. Before he could even focus on the mess left behind, you had returned with a packet of WetWipes from your pack. They were expired and not very damp but got the job done. 

It was hard not to focus on your touch while you worked, so he opted to reach for a strand of your hair, curling it around his finger tightly. You carried on cleaning both of you up like it was just a natural thing, Daryl’s face reddening once again when you went about wiping him down like you had seen him naked a hundred times. 

He leaned toward you to reach for your shoulder, sliding his fingertips over your warm skin. You grasped his hand to press a gentle but chaste kiss to his palm before standing to retrieve your clothes. You were smiling when you turned back. 

You were pulling your shirt down over your head as Daryl fastened his belt and sat down on the mattress to lace up his boots. Sleeping naked was not an option when beyond the walls of your home unless you didn’t mind leaving those things behind and showing up at the gates in the nude. 

Opting to leave your jacket on the floor, you crawled up to the pillow and laid down. Daryl did the final checks to make sure everything was secure and then returned to sit against the headboard, clearly offering to take first watch. For a man that had just experienced his first orgasm in years, he sure was tense. 

“Why don’t I take first?” You offered. You climbed up to mimic his position. Daryl looked like he might argue but soon nodded and moved down the bed putting his left arm behind his head.  

Finding just a smidge of courage, you reached over to toy with a long strand of his hair. “So.”

“So?” He titled his head back a little to look up at you. 

“That a—one time thing?” 

The archer lowered his head again, looking back to the ceiling directly above him. “Did ya want it to be?”

“Nope.” 

“Then it weren’t.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Do it again in the mornin’?”

“Absolutely.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon imagines #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl twd #twd daryl dixon #Spotify

[jreads]

Not sure if this is where we submit requests, but i’d kill for a fic where reader’s having debilitating anxiety attack in Jackson (like where your vision blacks at the edges and you can’t breathe) and suddenly a strong force is keeping you up and you look up and it’s Joel; and he’s concerned bc he relates (but you don’t know each other) and you take a fistful of his shirt and suddenly they feel the symptoms retreating - and that’s how you meet, and you’ve found comfort in each other since. :’)

Sorry if that made no sense it’s word vomit LOL

Also sidebar: unexpected constellations will stay w me forever thank you:’)

Of Memories and Mealtimes (Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Mentions of blood, Mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, Mentions of death, Foul language

A/N: this prompt was so cute, I hope I did it justice!

It’s been getting colder recently. No snow, not yet, but the breeze has a certain nip to it, blowing burnt orange leaves to rest on the ground like a natural carpet. The days are grey, and the nights are long, and that creeping feeling has been looming ever closer recently. You’ve found solace in the comfort of the kitchen. The air here is warm and humid and smells of frying garlic and onion. You perform repetitive, menial tasks and it staves off—to some extent—the ever-present penetrating feeling of loneliness. 

Since arriving in Jackson, you’ve struggled to find a place, a sense of belonging. You’re coming to the conclusion that maybe you never will. You thought you had one… but that was a while ago. 

It’s selfish to think you’re the only one in this town with a painful past; it’s clear that everyone is trying just as hard to find reasons to get through each day. You’re not alone. But you do feel like it. Often.

Maria has taken pity on you, stationing you in the kitchens because she knows you like it there. Knows you like to watch the people sitting at tables and soak up sounds of laughter in an attempt to steal a moment of second-hand happiness.

It’s late now, pitch black outside, and your shift is almost over. You’re cutting fruits and veggies for omelettes in the morning: spinach, olives, tomatoes. There are maybe five people still sitting, a table of three, one woman at a booth, and a man sitting alone at the bar. Sometimes, you like to eavesdrop.

The trio are talking about their old lives. They seem to have found something in common, street racing. Moding their cars, evading the cops… back when you could just drive into a gas station for petrol.  One used to have an old Charger, stolen in the looting. He reminisces over how the purr of the engine felt, how the lights of the highway would turn to a blur as he accelerated. From the corner of your eye, you see the man from the bar get up to leave, dropping some coin on the counter. You used to like to drive fast too. When it was for leisure and not for survival.

“I’m scared.”

The familiar voice sears through you like a branding iron, bringing with it flashing images of memory. Fuck. No, no, no. Not now. 

The freeway is peppered with stationary cars, and you’re swerving, as fast as humanly possible, trying desperately to navigate the mess. The Jeep behind you is gaining, and the little boy in your passenger seat is rigid in fear. If you can just make it through the overpass, it clears out after that. Their car is good offroad, but yours is faster. You upshift.

There’s gunfire, and your rear window shatters. He screams. You use your right hand to push his head down. He needs to stay low. You’re almost there.

Another gunshot. You try to ignore the popping of the rear tire; try not to think about what it means. The vehicle swerves and you fight against it by correcting the wheel. It’s no use. You clip the side of an abandoned car, and your own flips. You’re thrown through the windscreen. It’s the last thing you remember before your vision goes dark.

There’s pain. But not from the onslaught of old memories. You’ve slipped with the knife in your distraction, cutting a deep line into the side of your thumb. It’s dripping down, coating your fingers in a slick red. Your heart is pounding out of your chest, lungs constricting so hard you can barely get a breath in.

“Could I take five?” you manage to gasp to the other lady. But you don’t even wait for her reply before dropping the knife with a clatter and banging gracelessly through the back service doors. Your vision is blurring, darkening at the edges and your head is spinning. It feels as if you might die. You’re going to die.

Your hand is now coated in blood and—with little thought—you try to brush it off with your right, only succeeding in spreading the scarlet until it’s all you can see.

You wake in a ravine. How long have you been out? There’s pain in your cheek and you reach up to pluck a piece of glass from it. The crash. The kid. Oh, no. Oh, god. You call his name, voice hoarse. No reply. Your legs are too weak to support the weight of your own body, so you scramble up from the ditch, back onto the freeway. The car lies a few meters away on its side. Scraped and destoyed. And beyond it, a small body. No.

You crawl to him, sobbing at the bones bent in unnatural angles. And the bullet wound through his chest. You scream. You wail. His lifeless form is so small in your arms, leaking blood over your palms. You were supposed to protect him. You were supposed to—

His body is going cold. Limp and lifeless. But you can’t let go. Maybe, if you just hold on tight enough, the force of your love can breathe life back into his lungs.

You’re covered in his bood, figuratively, literally, it’s everywhere. Stumbling as if you’re drunk, you cry so hard that the tears only blur your vision further. It’s been a while since you’ve had one this bad. If you could just get back to your house. God, why did it have to happen in public? You can’t see where you’re going, so it’s no surprise when you run into something.

No, someone. There are hands on your shoulders and a comforting voice, gravelly Texan accent. What is he saying? You can’t tell. You’re going to be sick.

Something blocks out the lights of the streetlamp. There’s a body beside you.

A fragile body, broken and empty. Leaking life onto cracked pavement.

No, but this body is warm. Strong and gentle. A calloused palm cradling your head into a broad chest, a steady heartbeat. Alive. This body is alive. You clutch onto the fabric of his shirt with desperate hands, forgetting for a moment that your own blood will stain the fabric. He’s speaking words, low whispers, but the sound of them vibrates through him and into you. He’s telling you to calm down.

But you can’t. How do you tell him you can’t? You’re choking on air, hiccupping in a way that hurts.

“Come on now, breathe with me.” He smells nice, like cedar and whiskey. You can feel him smoothing circles onto your back, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales. You try to copy him, lungs spasming with the effort. “That’s it. Keep going.” You’re heaving loud, ugly, uneven breaths, but it’s all you can manage. Past and present are flashing before you, your own blood, someone else’s, unseeing eyes and dead silence, a thumping pulse and soothing voice. It’s getting easier; you’re synchronizing your breaths to his own. But as you lean into the comedown, that exhaustion starts to creep up behind you. You melt into him in relief, but he doesn’t shy away. “There you go. I got you.”

Pieces of your surroundings start to fade back into view. You’re under the awning by the barn, shrouded in shadow. He’s practically holding you up by himself, and you feel a sudden deep stab of embarrassment. You can’t look this stranger in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his shirt.

He doesn’t loosen his hold. “You got nothing to apologize for.”

“Probably got… blood on your shirt.” It’s taking effort to even form the words.

He laughs lightly and the sound is like warm caramel. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

The nausea is ebbing, but you find you don’t want to leave. Caught in his arms, you feel the safest you’ve felt in a long while.

“You should probably get that finger bandaged.” He steps away, pulling your arm into the light to examine the cut and you almost sob once more at the loss of contact. “I got supplies back at my place, if that’s alright by you?”

“Okay,” you say because you feel too weak to walk back to your own house alone right now. And also because in the glow of the streetlamp, you can see the rugged handsomeness of his face, etched with sweet worry, dark curls interspersed with shots of grey. You’ve seen him before. The man at the bar, so often alone. 

You’re shaking now, visceral, wracking shudders. He sheds his coat and swings it over your shoulders before leading you down the laneway.

His house is not far, a five-minute walk at most. He ushers you up the front porch, opening the door to a dim-lit living area.

“Joel?” A shrill voice calls down from above. 

Joel Miller? This is Joel Miller?

“Yeah Ellie, it’s me.”

A little girl comes bounding down the stairs, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She stops dead when she sees you, noting the jacket around your shoulders, the blood on your hand.

“What happened?” she says, with a kind of fascinated wonder that comes naturally to kids. Oh god, she reminds you of—

“Kitchen accident.” Joel replies smoothly. “You mind getting the med kit, kiddo?”

Her big eyes blink once, twice. “Oh, yeah.” Then she’s running right back up the staircase.

Joel sits you on the couch, grasping your wrist with a tender motion so at odds with all the things you’ve heard about him. Then again, you never knew he had a kid.

“Is she yours?”

He doesn’t look up from your palm. “In the ways that count.”

The girl, Ellie, is back down in record time with a worn first aid kit that she extends to Joel. When he takes it, she looks again at you with blatant curiosity. You feel guilty for barging into the warmth of their home like this.

“Ellie, why don’t you go boil some water for coffee.”

“Can I have hot chocolate?” she asks, and the hopeful joy in her voice is enough to finally make you smile.

Joel does too. “Sure.” And she’s off once more, rounding the corner to where you assume the kitchen lies. “But don’t go putting extra sugar in it,” he calls after her. The soft domesticity makes you ache with loss.

“Well, good news is you won’t be needing stiches.” He pulls an array of supplies from the box: disinfectant, gauze, a bandage. “But you should tell Maria to take you off kitchen schedule for a couple days.”

“How’d you know I was on kitchen schedule?” 

“Lucky guess,” he replies easily, but you swear there’s pink travelling across his cheeks. 

The disinfectant stings and you hiss. He falls into silent work, and you find yourself watching him, trying to understand how the man in front of you is the very same that garnered such a ruthless and cold reputation. 

He breaks the silence first. “I don’t mean to pry but…” Joel fastens the bandage securely around your finger. “…if you want to talk about what happened…”

You don’t. Not now, maybe not ever.

When you don’t reply, he nods his head. “I get it.” You watch him cast a glance toward the sound of a boiling kettle, to where Ellie is. “Trust me, I do.” 

You sit with him and Ellie—quiet with a warm cup of coffee—until late into the night. Ellie makes a face at the smell of it and quips back and forth with Joel about how he can ‘drink that piss.’ The girl has a mouth on her. She’s clever, sharp-witted, and the banter between her and him seems to dig a needle and thread into your gaping heart and sew one single stitch into it.

Past midnight, despite your repeated refusal, Joel insists he walk you home. Seeing your own house, cold and devoid of light makes your shoulders slump and heart race anew. Joel seems to note the behaviour.

“You’re always welcome at ours.” You know you’ll never take him up on the invitation. From the sadness in his eyes, you think he knows it too.

There are miles between you. “Thank you.” He only nods. You leave him standing on the lawn.

From behind the safety of the porch window, you can see that he waits for the light to turn on in your living room before walking back down the street.

Maria has insisted you take a few days off. Damn it. Joel must have said something. You try to busy yourself in the garden instead, but the gloves fit awkwardly over your bandage. You don’t last long anyway. The sound of school children heading home hits your ears around 3:00PM, and within minutes, a small shadow blocks where the sun hits your face.

“What’re you doing?”

Just seeing her face is enough to put a small smile on your own. “I’m planting basil.”

“What’s basil?”

You laugh. Actually laugh. “You want to try some?” You offer her a leaf and she chews it thoughtfully. Gives it an approving face. A thumbs up.

“You should bring some for Joel.” The forwardness of her suggestion is almost shocking, but she seems like the type of kid who says whatever comes to mind. You like that about her. “His cooking is pretty bland.”

Two laughs in one day. This kid is like medicine. “You think so?”

“Mhm. You could come over now. I think he’s on patrol, but he’ll be back soon.”

You think about turning her down, just on reflex. But you like how it feels to laugh, just the way you liked how you had felt in Joel’s arms the other night. So you agree. Her smile is brilliant. 

Minutes later, when she loops her arm through your own, she says, “Hey but don’t tell Joel what I said about his cooking, okay?”

You promise.

Around 7:00PM, he comes through the door, a weary sigh giving him away. “Ellie,” he calls.

“In here!” She’s excited. You’ve prepared a meal: pasta, sundried tomatoes, and the basil plucked from the garden. She’s been picking at the penne with her fingers, unable to wait until he arrives.

Seeing the surprised look on his face when he rounds the corner makes you feel suddenly shy. “I wanted to do something to thank you for last night and, well… Ellie found me in the—”

“Joel, it’s so fucking good.” At this point the muscles in your face are starting to hurt from smiling. 

Over dinner, you actually start to engage in the conversation, and somehow you seem to get along like you’ve known each other for years. In tandem, they work to bring you out of your shell. Your voice is hoarse and face warm by the time you go to leave, but Joel stops you at the door.

“Let me walk you back again.” Your selfish streak is only getting worse. You say yes. You think you see Ellie’s face in the top window as the two of you leave, a devious grin on her face.

Conversation flows on the way, about food, wine, Ellie. It’s comfortable, familiar, but there’s something… 

A yearning, buried under layers of friendly formality. He walks you up your porch and you think, for just a moment, about inviting him inside.

But you’re not quite ready for that just yet. So, you rise up to kiss him on the cheek instead, relishing the stunned look on his face.

Shy again, you back away across the threshold. “Good night, Joel.”

He says it back, and the way your name rolls of his tongue ignites something long dormant within you. You think he might be looking at your lips.

When the door closes, you let out a shuddering breath. And for what seems like the thousandth time that night, you smile.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #tlou fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou angst #my fic #jreadswrites

[clemkruckinnie]

pitseleh-d.lambert

chris calls you at exactly 130 in the morning.

you’d been awake, of course; your homework wasn’t gonna do itself, and you always found that you worked better at night anyway.

being best friends since middle school had always had it’s advantages. you two knew each other inside and out, and she’d never call you this late unless-

“something’s wrong.” you answer the phone, hearing booming music and a familiar voice trying to yell over it in the back.

“i hate that you already-“

“is that y/n???”

“give it-“

“i’m fine!”

it’s a very exasperated dalton on the other end, having seemingly wrestled chris’ phone away from her.

“hi, dalton.” you greet him. “can you give chris the phone?”

“no, i’m-chris, please!”

“he’s drunk and i can’t babysit anymore. can you please watch him and make sure he doesn’t asphyxiate?”

she cuts you off before you can object. “listen, you’re already gonna be awake most of the night. i know you. it’s something to do, at least—“

“okay.” you relent, shutting your laptop. “just get him here in one piece and i’ll take care of him.”

“i love you.” chris sighs, “like truly, genuinely, i will propose to you right now. cmon, dolphin-yes, we’re going to y/n’s—“

the call cuts off, and you flop against your bed, staring at your ceiling.

you’d opted to live off campus, working in the bookstore to pay for your apartment. it was small, and your neighbors were loud, and the walls were thin, but it was home.

chris would stay with you often before she started school, having been a year younger than you, wanting to get acclimated to the college town before she moved there. since she’d become friends with her roommate, he’d often join you two, rounding out your duo into a trio.

dalton was quiet, but kind, a talented artist with some unresolved trauma you’d never judge him for if he chose to divulge. you liked him, but it always felt like there was a wall up between you two, one he wanted to break through but couldn’t.

you’re jolted from your thoughts by a sharp knock at the door. standing up from the couch, you open the door, chris dragging dalton in by his hand.

“thank you so much.” she sighs, getting the door shut behind him as he flops down onto your couch.

“i feel fine.” dalton complains, “you don’t have to babysit me.”

“oh yes she does!” chris cuts him off. “you almost hurled twice on the way here, and i have work in the morning. i can’t keep you alive and sleep at the same time.”

“dal, it’s okay. i’ll get you a bowl, you can crash on the couch, we’ll put a movie on or something. it’ll be fun.” you assure him.

“go sleep.” you direct your attention to chris, “we’ll be okay.”

she leaves you with a quick hug and another thank you, promising to bring you your favorite takeout when she comes home from her shift tomorrow, and you’re left alone with a slowly sobering up dalton on your couch.

“you okay?” you ask him earnestly, wrapping your cardigan around yourself. “i can get you a blanket, or-“

“you’re okay. i’m just admiring the place.”

“you’ve been here before.”

“yeah, but i’ve never really looked at it.” dalton explains. “it’s..warm. i like it.”

you shrug. “i kind of just threw blankets and string lights up everywhere and kinda hoped for the best.”

he laughs, soft but bright, and your stomach flips in the best possible way.

“i only had like 2 shots, just so you know.” dalton explains. “chris is just-“

“worried.” you cut him off. “yeah, i know. she’s just like her mom. always concerned for everyone.”

dalton nods. “you two are close.”

“she’s like the one person who’s always been there for me.” you explain, joining him on the couch. “best friends since kindergarten and first grade.”

“i’m jealous.” dalton admits. “i never really made friends like that.”

you shrug. “i mean, we kinda adopted you.”

dalton shakes his head. “she’s my roommate. she just wants to be nice-“

“if she’s just being nice then why did she bring you over here?” you object. “she was worried about you, dalton, you don’t worry about people you don’t care about.”

dalton looks at you, taking in what you’d just told him.

“i don’t let people i don’t care about into my space, just so you know.” you add. “i’ve worked hard making this little shithole feel like home. you’re always welcome in it.”

dalton nods, not meeting your eyes.

“hey.” you grab his hand. “something’s up.”

he looks at you, big blue eyes staring through you, not at you.

“i don’t know how to do this.” dalton admits.

“do what?”

he pauses for a second, still looking at you. then, he brings your hand up to his cheek, holding your palm against his face.

“dalton-“

he leans in, kissing you in a way so gentle, so sweet that it would make your knees buckle had you been standing up.

when he pulls back, you open your eyes to his already staring at you, a world’s worth of emotion in them.

you smile, moving your other hand so you’re cradling his face, brushing his cheekbones with your thumbs.

you kiss him again, and feel the warmth he’d been talking about earlier spread through your chest.

#insidious #insidious the red door #dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Keep Thinking About a Gale x Ace!Tav x Astarion AU

It makes no damn sense. Compels me though.

Let me be clear, this would be an AU and not a continuation of the “canon” I’ve established with Ace!Tav. It’s just not how I picture their story playing out. All the same, I keep circling back to this in my brain. Call it a thought experiment.

I’m probably not going to write a full fic for it. So, if anybody wants to take this general idea and run with it, feel free. Just give me a shoutout. Or if you guys are curious about this AU drop me an ask and I’ll answer with some rambles.

Speaking of, shoutout to @leighsartworks216 for letting me ramble to them about it.

Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist (for reference)

Cards on the table, none of these people are ready for a poly relationship

Gale is explicitly monogamous and ties sex and romantic love intimately together. Astarion is still dealing with the idea of being enough and just ✨the trauma✨ . Meanwhile Tav has their own abandonment issues and is just waiting for Astarion to get bored and leave. And yet! This disaster trio won’t leave me alone.

So this whole thing gets started when Astarion approaches Tav about wanting to experiment with sex again

He knows Tav isn't interested in sex and doesn't want to make them feel pressured into having it just to please him, so they talk about opening up in the relationship

Tav is hesitant about it, but also doesn't want this to be the reason Astarion leaves and so agrees

They convince themselves that if Astarion wants to have a one night stand, it’s fine; so long as he’s not seeking out his emotional needs with other people then there’s no risk of him wanting to end things; this is, of course, a terrible way to handle it

So, with that hanging over their heads they reconnect with Gale over some quest (maybe getting a magical item to allow Astarion to walk in the sun)

Gale has been teaching and while happy is admittedly still a bit lonely so is grateful to see his friends again

Gale and Tav always had a close relationship, but seeing them again does stir up some of those old feelings he'd let lie because, you know, the Absolute (headcanon here for further details)

Gale internally berates himself for this because he 1) knows Tav is ace and therefor not interested in a sexual relationship which is something he prioritizes when it comes to romance and 2) Tav is clearly still in a loving relationship with Astarion, so he's not going to be the asshole to get in the middle of all that

He tells himself it’s just the loneliness talking and pushes that shit down

So, he starts getting closer to Astarion who, while still a bit of a rogue, has mellowed a bit and worked on some of his more selfish instincts

Honestly, having the opportunity to see how much Astarion is devoted to Tav increases his opinion of the man

He and Astarion’s relationship is still antagonistic, but much more playful than before

This culminated in a moment when Astarion and Tav are checking in on each other after a trap goes off

Astarion pulls them close a moment kissing Tav on the temple once it’s clear they’re fine

Gale watches this interaction, his stomach twisting with familiar jealousy, but pauses as his mind screeches to a halt realizing “wait, am I jealous of Astarion or Tav?"

Meanwhile Astarion is a bit surprised at Gale being more friendly with him, but he can't say he's complaining. He knows Tav missed him, and while he had his own jealousies early in the relationship, he's since moved passed it. Gale was the one to help him ultimately get together with Tav after all.

He makes more of an effort to get to know the wizard one on one and finds himself looking more and more

There is something oddly endearing when he rambles

Gods he really is a powerful wizard (connotation: scared and horny)

Did his robes always show off his chest hair like that

He really does make Tav happy

Until one morning he's laying in bed and snaps up enraged with himself like, "GALE?! OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU CAN FEEL COMPELLED TO FUCK. FUCKING GALE?!?!?!?!"

Full existential crisis

Yes, they said opening the relationship, but he knows how nervous Tav feels about it. They’ve told him about their past relationships and how so many of them fell apart when the topic of sex came up

But he also knows he can’t do a one night stand; he needs to trust the person he’s having sex with, he wants it to mean something

He knows Gale and he knows it would mean something with him

He also knows Gale’s opinion on monogamy; would he force him to choose between him and Tav? Would Gale even want to be with him? Astarion knows Gale used to feel deeply for Tav

And what if it ends badly? Gale is Tav’s friend, his friend. Fuck, this can’t be happening

Meanwhile Tav is reconnecting with Gale and is like, “Gods I did miss him…oh wait I like *missed* him, missed him”. But pushes that shit down because, again, in a very loving relationship with Astarion which they won’t risk for anything and 2) Gale has made it clear that sex is something he values in a relationship as a form of intimacy.

They knew they couldn’t give him that then and they can’t now

Tav is also starting to notice how Astarion is looking at Gale

They’re much more in tune with his emotions and can see he’s interested

Tav starts to feel jealous and then feels guilty for doing so because they said opening the relationship was fine

Gale is wonderful. They know he’d treat Astarion the way he deserves. They could hardly blame Astarion for ultimately choosing him

They knew deep down they were just a stepping stone on Astarion’s road to recovery. If he can be with someone who can give him so much love and sex, why would he need them?

It also doesn’t help that as they start noticing Astarion looking at Gale, they see Gale looking right back

They do feel deeply for Gale, but know his thoughts on monogamy

Besides, they turned him down before, they can’t expect Gale to have held onto those feelings

So they start to slowly distance themselves from both men, resolving that if Astarion approaches them about it, they’re not going to stand in his way.

This course of action causes all of them to start driving themselves crazy in their own heads

Astarion is scrambling because they can sense Tav pulling away and is desperate to figure out what’s wrong, but Tav won’t tell them anything

Gale can see it too and so is pushing down all of his emotions because “Tav I know you love Astarion and Astarion loves you, so what’s going on”

Tav can’t confide in him either so they just don’t say anything

This leaves Astarion and Gale to start confiding in each other more because what’s going on?

Finally Astarion spills everything to Gale, he and Tav opening their relationship, his fears about them leaving, and becuase he’s got a good idea why they’re pulling away

Gale is admittedly a bit obtuse about it which prompts Astarion to grab him by the front of the robes and start kissing him

Gale respond enthusiastically and the two of them start making out. But before it goes any further their brains catch up with them and they stop, both knowing that they need to talk to Tav

So they approach Tav and Tav’s like, “yeah, it’s fine, can’t say I’m surprised, neither of you are exactly subtle. It’s fine. I’ll take this as my queue to go then.”

Astarion then jumps in like, “wait, no, who said anything about leaving”.

Tav tries to convince him that it’s fine, that they’re happy for him, really. They can’t begrudge him for wanting more and he shouldn’t feel compelled to stay with them.

Astarion’s brain is reeling from this because are you actually kidding me? Please say you’re joking and don’t actually believe that.

He then takes their face in his hands and tells them he’s not going to stop loving them just because he wants to have sex again and if there is one lesson they’ve taught him is that he has more love in him that he ever thought possible. He’s got plenty to spare.

Gale meanwhile has been watching Astarion and Tav’s relationship for some time and has come to understand you can separate sex and romantic love

He then steps in saying, “yes, I am interested is pursuing something more with Astarion, but also with you. Honestly out of the two of you, I’ve loved you for much longer”.

Tav would still need time to accept the idea that they’re not the third wheel. Gale would need to work out how to put that sometimes obsessive love into two people and Astarion still has his trauma, but they’d all have each other to work it all out once they get everything out into the open.

#astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion x tav #astarion x ace!tav #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav #bloodweave #gale x ace!tav #gale x tav x Astarion #bloodweave x tav #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #asexual!tav #asexual!reader #bard!tav #astarion x evie #gale x evie

[milaisreading]

🌱🩷: 4TH STORY IS HERE U ALL! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT☠️😭

Pairings: Barou Shouei x Crossdresser!Yn

Warnings: Reader uses she/her during the narration.

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

🎄Dec 13th🎄

"You think your sisters will like these?" Barou looked away from some perfume he was planning on buying his dad to look at the items (Y/n) was holding. The items in question were small make-up sets. Barou eyed the items for a moment and shrugged his shoulders.

"They look cute, but they look kind of expensive. Don't go all out for my family, you have your own to think of, too." Barou said, going back to looking at the perfume, not noticing (Y/n) flinch a little at the mention of her family.

'Right... my family...' She thought for a moment and then looked at the items, smiling a little.

"It's ok, I can buy it. Besides, they both were telling me how your mom wouldn't let them play with her make-up. I am sure your mom will appreciate these, too." She said as Barou raised an eyebrow at her.

"They did? Those two are careless at times." The red-eyed boy sighed.

"They mean no harm-"

"Excuse me, are you (L/n) (Y/n)? Blue lock's captain?" The two football players turned to look at two girls, around their age, staring up at her.

"Uhm... yeah, I am. Can I help you with something?" (Y/n) wondered as Barou silently watched the interactions.

"Can we take a few pictures with you?"

"We watched that game. And the assist you did for Isagi for the final goal was phenomenal!"

(Y/n) blushed a little at the compliment, something Barou took quick notice of, and nodded her head.

"Th-thank you, but without the help of the rest of the team I wouldn't have been able to do that. And sure, I can take a few pictures." (Y/n) answered, putting the sets away as the girls excitedly pulled her away for some pictures.

"You are so humble."

"It's really cute."

Barou watched the trio silently as he put random items in his cart. The familiar feeling of jealousy slowly making its way through his system. The boy was used to (Y/n) getting attention from people around them. The team, the staff, the fans... she was very approachable. As much as Barou liked her being happy, he wanted her to be more happy with him.

'I knew her longer...and I know more more about her than anyone else.' Barou thought, clenching his fists as (Y/n) came back.

"Should we go now? It's getting quite crowded and I am hungry, too." The girl wondered as Barou nodded his head.

"Sure. Did you get everything you need?" The boy asked as (Y/n) glanced at her cart.

"I just need something for your mom and dad, and I am good to go. Maybe clothing items would be a good idea?" She suggested as Barou shrugged his shoulders.

"I said you don't have to-"

"And I said I will."

"You are annoying and stubborn." Barou sighed.

"Thank you. Learned from the best, king." (Y/n) grinned, noticing the glare forming on his face.

"Shut up, dumbass!"

🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️

Barou was already annoyed at the store as he watched (Y/n) interact with the girls, but now he was pretty much pissed. The boy watched as (Y/n) talked with a group of fans, who interrupted her lunch to ask for pictures and autographs. So, instead of saying no, the girl abandoned her food to talk with them. Barou couldn't really be mad at her, he knew that (Y/n) will put other people before her in most cases.

'That's why Ego-san picked her as the captain.' Barou sighed as he watched the girl wave a goodbye at the group, then returned to her seat.

"Sorry for leaving." (Y/n) muttered apologetically, looking down at her food.

"It's getting cold, you should really eat it." Barou commented as he ate his food.

"I know, but you know I can't say no to people, especially when they ask me for something politely."

"That wasn't your act an hour ago." Barou rolled his eyes as (Y/n) started eating your food.

"I already told you I don't want anything. I am happy enough to spend the holidays with you and your family." The honesty in her words caused the red-eyed boy to blush and forcefully gulp down his food.

"Still, you can't be without a present. And what about your family? Wouldn't you want to celebrate Christmas with them?"

"T-them?! Oh..." (Y/n) coughed a few times and shook her head.

"N-not really. My parents are going on a business trip and my brothers will be with their friends." (Y/n) simply answered and Barou eyed her suspiciously before continuing eating. The determination to buy her something for Christmas grew even stronger after that. Along with that, his curiosity about (Y/n)'s family grew as well.

☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄☃️🎄

The duo was now at a clothing store, their last stop before they planned going to their homes. Barou was aimlessly looking around the pile of random shirts, still trying to think of a gift for (Y/n).

'What can I even get someone who grew up in a family as rich as (Y/n)'s... just my luck.' Barou rolled his eyes.

'Why do I even bother? That idiot is just a pain in the neck, loud, annoying, a know it all... but, I wouldn't really want her to change.' Barou felt his cheeks slowly heat up.

'Especially when she smiles, or laughs, or gets excited over the next match.'

The boy groaned as he felt a familiar twist in his heart as he looked behind himself, expecting to find (Y/n), but she was nowhere to be found. Barou stiffened as he looked around, not able to find the girl anywhere in the men's section of the store.

"Where did that dumbass go now?" Barou silently groaned and started looking around the store, hoping to find her soon.

'I hope she isn't around one of the fangirls, because I swear I will kick a football into her next time-'

"Oh? Are you planning to buy that for your girlfriend? Do you need any help?"

"What? Oh... I am just looking at some dresses for... for someone. I don't know if I will buy it yet." Barou stopped in his tracks as he looked to his left, only to find a worker and (Y/n) talking with each other, while the other girl was holding a (f/c) dress. Barou silently backed behind the wall, making sure (Y/n) and the worker didn't see him.

"The dress maybe..." Barou narrowed his eyes as he observed the item.

"It's a really nice dress, you have great eyes. It's quite popular this season as well."

"Really?" (Y/n) asked in surprise

"Mhm. I think it has to do with the color." The worker nodded as (Y/n) silently looked at the dress. Barou knew that look on the girl's face all too well. Contrary to how he expected rich people to behave, (Y/n) was always ready to put her needs and wishes aside when it came to someone else. She also rarely liked to spend on herself.

'Come on, you idiot. If you want it, buy it!' Barou thought.

"Oh... can I ask you something?"

"Huh? Sure." (Y/n) said to the worker, looking away from the dress.

"You are Blue lock's captain? (L/n), right?"

"Yes, that would be me." (Y/n) nodded, the worker's face brightened as she heard jer confirm it.

"My little brother really loved watching you play. Would you mind giving him an autograph?"

"Not at all. I just need a pen and paper." (Y/n) said with a soft smile as she put the dress away. Barou watched with an irritated expression as yet again, (Y/n) abandoned her own wishes to help someone else.

"Dumbass, dumbass..." Barou muttered for what felt like the 100th time as he approached the abandoned clothing item. The boy stared at it for a moment, then looked around the area, the down at the dress again.

"Well, if you won't buy it yourself, I will do it."

Barou rolled his eyes as he took the item to go and pay for it.

'I will hurry up before she comes back for it. Or worse, sees me buying it.' The boy thought, walking rather quickly to the cash register.

'She will definitely not expect this one.' Barou thought as he smiled softly at the item.

'She might be an idiot. But an idiot I would never replace for anything.'

#bllk #blue lock anime #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock scenarios #crossdressing #barou shouei #barou shoei x reader #bllk barou #blue lock barou #barou x reader #barou x you

[rixsjwb]

famous, drop dead gorgeous

summary: you and gojo are actresses, and when fans realize the constant turning on gojos head in your direction, your friendship starts to bloom.

warning: none I hope, grammar mistakes not p4oof read so Proofread it yourself😍

As Gojo Satoru enters the venue, he's met with a bueatiful sight, a modern, gigantic spacious room filled with nicely decorated tables and a stage, with many fans seated not to far from where the actors were suppost to sit.

he wanders around in his black tuxedo, with geto suguru as they looked for their names stated on the golden plates.

fans started to scream ad they see there favorite actor walk pasted the door where the paparazzi where situated, nanami, toji, sukuna, the trio nobara, megumi and itadori, shoko and utahime.

many familiar faces were entering the room, but when a beautiful woman around the same age as him in a simple purple silk dress walked in, he almost thought you were those beautiful girls back in the 1900s.

he hasn't talked to you at all when on set filming the new famous series of Jujutsu Kaisen. He's always watched you from a distance but never made a move, and he wonders why till now.

he watches as you strolled in with the sway of your hips, your mature, attractively sculpted face entered the venue, with your hair put into a sleek swoop and lightly curled at the ends of your straight hair.

he noticed how straight it was other than curled up like it was on set.

he watches as a staff member helped guide you to your seat, but he realizes you're being led near his table area until you were seated not too far from him.

you were diagonal to him seated in front of him, but from the videos that circulated, the internet had counted the number of times he turned his head to look exactly in your direction.

how satoru looked egar to talk to you but something was stopping him, that was until you caught him staring at you when the award show was finally over.

you sent him a soft smile, and satoru never turn his head away so fast.

the videos showed how THE gojo satoru seemed to be freaking out about how you noticed him. suguru just laughed and said something afterward, but it wasn't in recording shot, so you couldn't understand what he was saying.

an other videos circulated where when gojo satoru started a live just hours after the award show ended, he spoke about the experience, how it was and people he met.

when somebody mentioned your name he was quick to talk about you.

"oh y/n! I saw all those videos you guys toke of me looking at her, she's truly a bueatiful girl she's just as beautiful as me!"

"she's actually so pretty, I can not.. she makes me feel some different way. Ugh, SHES SO PRETTY."

the few times he went live suguru joining in, one time his fans caught your attention and manged to influence you to join his live and watch on Instagram.

"y/ns here? WHAT THE FUCK. omg bae Y/N! where is she??!!"

"there she is should I add her? no I shouldn't, no I should I'm adding her FUCK I'm scared don't be a pussy satoru JUST DO IT."

he adds you to hear your heavenly laugh as you pretty much saw his mini freak out session.

but in the end, you guys bonded pretty well.

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic

[inawearyworld]

free if you truly wish to be: chapter ii

that fateful first day at the galeries gourmet, and a little bit after, told from the vantage point of the fickelgruber balcony.

2023!wonka x oc, this chapter ~1.9k

fair warning, i am a MASSIVE shakespeare nerd. but, if the 70s movie is anything to go by, so is wonka. so it's fine.

florence, however, as we've established, is Very Much Not Fine.

enjoy!!

(part one) (fic masterlist) (part three)

The outside air was refreshing, almost as refreshing as the young woman’s realization that not a single eye was on her.

That honor and worry went to the newcomer that was becoming ever curiouser to behold.

“Now, who wants to try one?”

The crowd around him clamored for a chance at his flying chocolates, and Florence’s spirit nearly lifted into their twittering flush, only to fall again when-

“I will.”

The buzz of the crowd fell silent at Slugworth’s words, and Florence frowned as the Chocolate Cartel stepped forward with intent to embarrass the young dreamer beyond repair. The boy, though, looked between the three as if this were suddenly the most exciting day of his life. He greeted them, utterly starstruck, but was caught off guard when Slugworth crushed him in a handshake, and Florence winced. She’d seen near-countless hopefuls come to the Galeries filled with entrepreneurial spirit and be driven away by the trio within minutes, but this one seemed…different somehow.

It’s as if he has nothing without this dream, and somehow that gives him more to lose.

She blinked, wondering how such a specific thought could come to her when she’d only just learned this man existed. But her view from the balcony allowed her to study his face, which she did with fascination and a slight speck of shame.

The Cartel each tried one of the chocolates the newcomer had brought, and now they were the ones she watched closely.

Yes, something was different this time.

Because Florence Fickelgruber knew her husband, and despite his attempt to hide his reactions at this moment, the chocolatier had a very expressive face.

He liked that chocolate. He loved it. Even more surprising, so did the others.

They listed off the ingredients they tasted, trying to keep the wonder from their voices, and the younger man responded to each with a fascinatingly short anecdote telling where he’d gotten it.

How could he be so well-traveled, yet so naive? How could-

She realized then that she was smiling, blushing even, feeling as light as if she’d had one of those weightless chocolates herself. It was silly, she knew, to hope for real change simply because of one charming new arrival, but that hope bubbled up regardless as she watched the Cartel exchange eye contact which was far more frazzled than the cool assurance she’d seen earlier.

Slugworth then began his typical long preface to his judgment, the telltale sign that he was about to demolish the young man’s hopes, and Florence from her balcony was the only one who knew.

Should I say something?

Before she could, the “absolute, one hundred percent, worst” came crashing down.

Not hearing the end, the boy-Wonka, as he was apparently called-whooped into another call to the crowd, his smile wide and infectious as-

Then it hit him.

“Wait, the worst?”

“We three are the fiercest of rivals, but we agree on one thing,” Slugworth declared, and Florence rolled her eyes-she’d always been frustrated at never being told much about the inner workings of the Chocolate Cartel, knowing just enough to be sure it was corrupt but not enough to bring the truth to light and be believed, but she was certain that the three were anything but rivals-“A good chocolate should be simple. Plain. Uncomplicated.”

“Whereas this,” her husband said, dripping in condescension and pronouncing each W with a drawl of air, “with all its bells and whistles, well, it’s just…”

“Weird,” Prodnose finished, and the younger man’s gaze fell.

Guilt by association had become a familiar friend of Florence’s over the past two years, but it pricked at her even more intensely now.

“That’s a shame,” Wonka said, so quietly that she had to lean over the balcony to catch it. “If you thought the chocolate was weird…”

Florence leaned forward further, eyes widening as the young man looked up at the Cartel from under the brim of his top hat, his expression having taken on an almost darker confidence.

“You’re going to hate what happens next.”

And with that, Mr. Slugworth was floating.

The crowd gasped, and Florence gasped right along with them, especially when the other two soon joined him. Felix’s face twisted almost comically when he rose to the point of seeing his wife on his balcony, and he tried with little success to swim through the air towards her. They reached for each other again and again, futile attempt after knowingly futile attempt, accompanied by the crowd’s delight, Wonka’s shouts of a satisfied salesman, and the frantic bickering of the Cartel.

“Have a nice flight, darling!” she couldn’t help calling out as Felix continued to rise helplessly past his office and toward the high ceiling of the Galeries. With no one watching her anymore, Florence was free to fall into pealing laughter.

Well, one person was watching.

Wiping a tear of mirth from her eye, she realized she’d caught the glance of Mr. Wonka, who looked up at her with a glint of recognition and a more genuine smile than she’d ever seen in her life.

Huh.

He tipped his hat to her, then turned back to his crowd of customers, who each dropped one single sovereign in his jar before relishing the candy. What’s more, his eyes spent much more time on the people’s happy faces than on the jar to make sure they were paying. This man was in this business for the love of it.

She could have ran down and kissed him right then.

…Aaaaaaaand that was not something she was going to think about right now.

Because apparently this day is so unusual that she’s now thinking in third person.

Get a hold of yourself, Wren.

She watched as customer after customer was lifted into the air, as her husband-your husband, till death do you part-and his Cartel floundered on the ceiling, as Wonka beamed at a little girl he saw near the Galerie’s entrance, as-

As the police came through that very entrance.

She should have known.

She’d tried many times to gain information from her husband by casually bringing up related subjects, because she had a feeling his group had something to do with the local police department being far less just than advertised. But Felix was perfectly tight-lipped, always flipping her words around themselves until he’d turned the conversation as if she hadn’t asked a thing at all.

…How did I ever think…

Never mind.

So they’d initially planned to humiliate the boy and then place him under the law’s eye, even if he hadn’t proved a threat, which he most certainly had.

She sighed, watching as the officers pulled people down from the air. It took them quite a while to figure out a way to retrieve the Chocolate Cartel from the ceiling, but retrieve them they did. Upon reuniting with solid ground, Felix cast his wife a wide-eyed, exasperated look, which she returned with an equally dazed shrug. He rolled his shoulders back, adjusted the cuffs of his suit, and turned smartly on his heel to follow his colleagues out of the Galeries, presumably on their way to regroup.

Shortly after they’d reached the outdoors, the Cartel learned that being temporarily grounded wouldn’t stop the bugs that still resided in them from flying, and they involuntarily took off once again, shouts and curses echoing.

Oh, God.

Well, he said it only lasted twenty minutes.

…They’ll be fine.

Florence grinned and looked down toward Mr. Wonka, hoping despite herself for another glance, but he was in conversation with the one officer that she still trusted. Affable seemed to take pity on the boy, reaching into his pocket and handing him a sovereign of his own.

He wouldn’t have done that if he knew I was watching.

That idea that anyone would think she was against that act of kindness was a twisting thorn in her heart, and she internally vowed to make it as clear as possible that her morals were nowhere near lined up to her husband’s.

As clear as possible to everyone except said husband.

And anyone else that would put my family in danger of losing anything, if he finds out I’m not truly aligned with the brand that’s currently allowing them to survive.

He’d give her jewels, and she’d wear them for a while until he forgot about them, at which point she’d mail them home-under a secret name, her old name, her real name-to be bartered for food and board. What with Felix’s decidedly obvious aversion to anything resembling charity, it was the only thing she could think to do.

“So full of artless jealousy is guilt, it spills itself in fearing to be spilt.”

Huh.

The police and customers had all left by now, and the young man was left standing there, staring at the mark of compassion that had been pressed into his hand by the officer.

The feel of the Galeries had become quiet after the chaos of all that had happened only moments before.

Florence had suddenly found herself nervous.

“Mr. Wonka.”

He startled at the sound, apparently having believed she’d left, but then smiled, pocketing the sovereign as he looked up.

“You’re the actress, the musician! You’re Mrs. Fickelgruber!”

“I am,” she said, lighting up a bit upon being noticed first for her art and only second for her marriage.

“So,” Wonka said with an ever-so-slightly deflated flourish of the hand, “what do you think? Of…all of this?”

“I,” she began, then paused, then cautiously smiled, “do not share my husband’s opinion.”

“Good.”

His eyes were hazel, like hers, and they sparked with an energy so striking that it seemed to travel all the way up to her slightly lofted position.

“Don’t tell him I said this,” she said, looking around to ensure their secrecy and feeling quite like a teenager, “but you’ve really got something. No crowd I’ve seen has ever taken to a newcomer quite like they have to you, so don’t worry about the others’ scare tactics. There hasn’t been anyone here lately with a passion, talent, earnestness like yours-”

I’m rambling I’m rambling STOP RAMBLING you are MARRIED you are a RESPECTABLE WOMAN you are being TOO SINCERE you NEED TO STOP TALKING.

“Just…don’t give up.”

“Thank you,” Wonka said, after a moment, and just as sincerely.

Everything about him is sincere.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he continued. “Giving up, I mean.”

“Good,” she echoed, and he smiled. “I have a feeling the world would be far worse for it if you did.”

He shook his head as he looked at her, seeming rather unsure of what to think beyond a strangely certain trust.

Well, that makes two of us.

“Really, thank you,” he said. "That means a lot, especially…well, especially coming from you.”

She glanced down for a moment at the swirling wrought-iron balcony beneath her hands, and laughed a little at the sudden realization of their position.

“Tis but thy name that is my enemy.”

He blinked, stunned by the reference, and continued it.

“I take thee at thy word.”

A nearly disbelieving smile broke across her face, then his, and the clock then rang out before she could say anything truly stupid.

“Well. Good day, Mr. Wonka.”

He nodded, considered her for a moment, then slung his cane over his shoulder.

“Call me Willy,” he said with another tip of his hat, then turned to leave. “Glad to have met you, Mrs. Fickelgruber.”

A beat, and then, without thinking, before she lost her courage-

“Call me Wren.”

The clock’s final chime of half past ten echoed and faded, and the young chocolatier smiled once more.

“Good day, Wren.”

#wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka #willy wonka #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet fic #timothee chalamet fanfiction #fiytwtb #wonka fanfiction #wonka fanfic

[cheynovak]

Brotherly Betrayal

Dean Winchester x Y/N x Sam Winchester  

Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating, unprotected sex,  

Side note: English isn’t my first language. 

Didn’t proof read sorry for any mistakes.

I broke Sammy's heart, I'm sorry in advance.

*Does not follow The SPN storyline * 

-- 

Sam didn’t seek for a new romance but when he met Y/N she seemed to have everything he wanted in a girl. After a few months of dating, he is finally ready to introduce her to his brother. But what will happen when Y/N and Dean recognise each other from a spicy night together years ago.  

“The best night of her life”  

Will she be satisfied with Sam?

-- 

In the dimly lit corner of a cozy cafe, Sam Winchester nervously drummed his fingers on the table, glancing at the entrance every few seconds. His heart pounded in anticipation as he waited for his brother, Dean, to arrive. Today was a big day, he was introducing his new girlfriend, Y/N, to Dean. Sam couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. 

“Calm down Sam, he’ll be here any second.” She smiled at him.  

Finally, the familiar jingle of the diner's doorbell announced Dean's arrival. Sam's heart skipped a beat as he watched his older brother stride in, his trademark smirk firmly in place. 

"Hey, Sammy!" Dean greeted, sliding into the seat across from him. "Sorry, traffic was a nightmare." Sam nodded, offering a strained smile. "No problem, Dean. I'm just glad you could make it." 

As Dean settled in, his eyes flickered to the woman sitting next to Sam. His smile faltered for just a moment before he regained his composure. "And who might this lovely lady be?" Sam's heart swelled with pride as he turned to Y/N, his hand finding hers beneath the table. "Dean, this is Y/N. Y/N, meet my brother, Dean." 

Y/N's smile was warm as she extended her hand across the table. "Nice to finally meet you, Dean. Sam talks about you all the time." Dean's gaze lingered on Y/N's face for a moment longer than necessary, a flicker of recognition crossing his features before he masked it with a charming grin.  

"Likewise, Y/N. Glad I finally can put a face to the name." 

The trio fell into easy conversation, laughter and banter filling the air. But behind all that a tension simmered just beneath the surface. As the evening wore on, Sam excused himself to the restroom, leaving Dean and Y/N alone at the table. Silence settled between them the air filled with distant chatter. 

Finally, Dean cleared his throat, breaking the silence. He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the tabletop before meeting hers once more. "This might sound crazy, but... have we met before?" 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. "Um, yeah. We actually... crossed paths a few years back. In 2005 or something." 

Recognition dawned on Dean's face, his expression clouding with guilt.  

"I thought I recognized you.” He smiles, “It was just a one-night thing, a long time ago. Wouldn't hold it against you if you didn’t remember it.” “Two nights.” Dean corrected her. “Right two nights... I didn't know you and Sam were... I mean, I had no idea." 

“Well, what are the odds.” “Didn’t you say your name was Ted Nugent?” Deans cheek blushed a little “Like the guitarist?” Y/N added. “Yeah, I might have.”  

Their conversation was interrupted by Sam's return, his easy smile faltering as he noticed the atmosphere at the table. Sensing the shift, Dean plastered on a grin, steering the conversation back to lighter topics. 

-- 

The Impala rumbled into the parking lot of yet another motel, its headlights casting long shadows across the worn pavement. Dean parked the car with practiced ease, the sound of gravel crunching beneath the tires signalling their arrival. 

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/N stretched her limbs, her exhaustion palpable after a long day of hunting. Wishing each other a goodnight before moving to separate rooms, he wanted to give his brother as much privacy as possible with his new girl.  

Inside the cramped motel room, the familiar scent of stale air and cheap cologne enveloped him, a stark reminder of the transient nature of their lives. As the hours ticked by, the motel room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the soft hum of the air conditioning. 

But amidst the stillness, Dean found himself unable to shake the nagging sense of unease that gnawed at his insides. Tossing and turning in his bed, Dean closed his eyes, willing himself to find solace in the darkness. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t sleep, his thoughts consumed by his brother’s girl in the room next door. 

With a resigned sigh, Dean slipped out of bed, his movements silent as he crept across the room, going to the bathroom before getting back in the bed. At first, all he heard was the gentle rustle of bed and her laughter. But then, amidst the hushed whispers, Dean caught her voice.  

soft and tender, mingled with Sam's in a dance of intimacy that sent a surge of jealousy coursing through Dean's veins. He knew he had no right to eavesdrop, no right to intrude upon their private moment. 

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he listened, his pulse quickening at the sound of Y/N's soft moans drifting through the thin walls. Each delicate whimper sent a jolt of electricity coursing through him, igniting a fire in the depths of his being that he struggled to contain. 

He should have stopped himself from listening he could have taken his headphones. But he was desperate for more, craving the intimacy he could only imagine. His body throbbed with a primal need, his senses heightened by the intoxicating symphony of pleasure that filled the air. 

As Y/N's moans grew louder, more urgent, Dean's resolve wavered, his self-control slipping away like sand through his fingers. In the darkness of the motel room, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, to imagine that it was his touch, his kisses, that elicited such exquisite sounds from Y/N's lips. 

Closing his eyes, Dean allowed himself to envision Y/N's face. The memory of their night years ago of her moans echoed in his mind, driving him ever closer to the edge of his restraint. 

With a shuddering breath, Dean let his hand slip under his underwear, fingers tracing the contours of his hard dick with a desperate hunger. His pulse quickened as he imagined the heat of Y/N's touch, her hands exploring every inch of his skin with a reverence that left him breathless. 

As he lost himself in the fantasy, Dean's movements became more frantic, more needy, as he chased his own orgasm. With each stroke, he whispered Y/N's name like a prayer, his voice a fervent plea for salvation. 

He could still hear the raw intensity of her pleasure, the sweet melody of her release that had once filled the air with a symphony of ecstasy. But on that fateful night, as he listened to the faint whispers and hushed murmurs drifting through the thin walls. 

Dean realized after his own orgasm that he hadn't heard Y/N's voice raised in passion like he heard when they spend the night. For a fleeting moment, Dean was scared of the possibility that Y/N's absence of sound was a deliberate choice, a silent plea for privacy.  

Perhaps she had sensed his presence on the other side of the wall, maybe heard his moans? No, he was quiet enough. That was the first time he noticed that she didn't hit her climax.  

-- 

The bunker was quiet as Y/N unpacked her belongings, the weight of Dean's distant demeanour hanging heavy in the air. Despite her best efforts to break through his walls, he remained distant, his usual charm replaced by an icy veneer that sent a chill down her spine. 

Frustration grew in Y/N as she watched Dean retreat further into himself, his guarded expressions a stark contrast to the warmth she had once seen in his eyes. Unable to bear the silence any longer, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, determined to confront him once and for all. 

"Dean," Y/N began walking in the kitchen, her voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within her. "We need to talk." Dean's gaze flickered to hers, a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability crossing his features before he masked it with a stoic facade. "What is it, Y/N?" 

Fuck she knows. Dean thought.  

Y/N took a step forward, her resolve unwavering as she met Dean's gaze head-on. "You've been distant with me ever since I moved in. I need to know why." 

Dean's jaw tensed, his expression guarded as he searched for the right words. "It's... complicated, Y/N." 

“Tell me. What did I do?” Y/N refused to back down, her determination steeling her resolve. With a heavy sigh, Dean finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"You do remember that night, Y/N? The one we shared years ago?" 

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, the memory of their fleeting encounter flooding her mind with a rush of emotions, her cheeks burning. "Yes, I remember." 

Dean's gaze bore into hers, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. "Does Sam know?" Y/N's heart sank as she realized the depth of Dean's question "Eh no, Dean. I never told him. D-did you?” He could see the fear in his eyes.  

“No, no I never did.” Y/N flinches as Sam walked into the room, he immediately sensed the tension that hung heavy in the air, his brow furrowing in concern as he took in the strained expressions on Dean and Y/N's faces. 

"What's going on?" Sam asked, his voice laced with apprehension. Dean hesitated, his gaze flickering to Y/N before meeting Sam's eyes. Y/N stepped forward, her voice steady as she addressed Sam. "Sam, there's something we need to talk about.”  

Sam's eyes widened in surprise as he turned his attention to Y/N, his curiosity piqued. "What is it?" Y/N took a deep breath “I eh, I’ve...known Dean longer than you think.” Sam's expression shifted, a mix of confusion and concern crossing his features as he processed her words. 

Dean's jaw tightened, his gaze darting between Sam and Y/N as he struggled to find the right words. "Y/N and I... we never told you about it." 

Sam's eyes widened in realization as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "You mean... you and Dean?" Y/N nodded slow, her eyes brimming with emotion. "Yes, Sam. But it was a long time ago.”  

“Yeah, you were in college” Dean added. “It happened on my way to you actually, you were with Jess at the time, so...” “So, we didn’t know, each other yet.” Y/N placed her hand on his arm.  

Sam took a moment to process the revelation, with a determined nod, Sam stepped forward, his gaze meeting hers. "Whatever happened in the past, it doesn't change anything between us.” She smiled softly before giving him a small kiss.  

Sam couldn't help but notice the way his brother's gaze faltered, his eyes darting away as if to shield himself from the intimacy of the moment. "Hey, Dean," Sam began, his tone cautious as he broached the delicate subject. "Do you... still have feelings for Y/N?" 

Dean's jaw tensed at the question, his defences rising instinctively as he struggled to mask the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. "No, Sam. It's not like that." 

But Sam wasn’t convinced. "Are you sure? Because it kinda seemed like..." 

Dean cut him off with a shake of his head, his voice tinged with frustration. "I said it's not like that, Sam.” With a nod of understanding, Sam reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder, the silent gesture a testament to the unbreakable bond that united them. "Okay, Dean.” 

--  

Dean's footsteps echoed softly against the bunker's cold, concrete floors as he made his way back to his room after a long, hot shower. Steam still clung to his skin. But as he approached his door, Dean's steps faltered, his heart sinking in his chest as he caught the familiar sounds drifting through the air. 

With a heavy sigh, Dean pressed his ear against the door, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened to the symphony of pleasure unfolding on the other side. Each moan, each whispered confession, sent a surge of jealousy coursing through him. 

Dean heard it, the sweet melody of Y/N's voice, her words sounding like a prayer. "Oh, Sammy..." The words hung in the air like a weight around Dean's neck, a bitter reminder of the bond that existed between his brother and the woman he secretly longed for. 

Dean forced himself to tear away from the door, his heart heavy with the weight of his own desires. Retreating to his bed, Dean reached for his headphones, to distract him from her sweet moans.  

As Dean drifted into the realm of dreams, in his subconscious mind a fantasy was born of longing and unspoken yearning. He found himself standing in a dimly lit room which looked like the bunker, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the walls. 

And there she was, Y/N, a vision of beauty and grace, her form swaying to the rock music only they could hear. Dressed in delicate lingerie that left little to the imagination, she moved with a fluidity that captivated his senses, her every movement an invitation to surrender. 

Dean's heart raced as he watched her dance, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of her flushed cheeks and parted lips. In that moment, she was more than just a woman, she was a goddess, a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole. 

With each step, each subtle sway of her hips, Y/N drew closer to him, her eyes smoldering with a passion that mirrored his own. And as she reached out to him, her touch sending shivers down his spine, Dean surrendered to the overwhelming tide of desire. 

Y/N's movements became bolder, more intoxicating, as she pushed him back into the chair, her touch igniting a fire in his veins that threatened to consume him whole. With each tantalizing sway of her hips, Y/N drew closer to Dean, her breath hot against his skin as she whispered promises of ecstasy. 

His pulse quickened as she straddled him, her body pressed flush against his. "Dean," she whispered, her voice low and sultry. "You like that, don't you? You like it when I touch you like this, I want to make you feel so good." 

Unable to resist the pull of her magnetic presence, Dean surrendered, his hands wandering over her curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. In that moment, there was no room for restraint, no room for doubt - there was only Y/N.  

And then, with a swift motion, Y/N began to undress him, her fingers trailing over his skin with a tenderness that stole his breath away. Piece by piece, the barriers between them fell away, leaving Dean exposed and vulnerable to the raw intensity of their shared desire.  

"Tell me what you want, Dean," she purred, her lips brushing against his earlobe. "Tell me how badly you need me. Tell me, Dean," she murmured, her voice thick with desire. "Tell me what you crave, what you ache for. I want to hear you say it." 

Dean's voice, husky with desire, broke through the haze of passion that enveloped them, his words a whispered confession, "I want to feel your lips on me," he murmured, his voice rough with need. "I want need you to take me into your mouth and drive me wild." 

With a primal urgency, Y/N sank to her knees before him, her lips trailing fiery kisses along his abdomen as she made her way downward.  

"Then let me," she breathed, her voice thick with longing. "Let me taste you, feel you, make you lose control."  

Dean's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her, with a whispered plea, Y/N took him into her mouth. Her lips closed around him, her touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him. In that moment, there was no past, no future.  

And as the dream reached its climax, Dean's senses were overwhelmed by the sweet symphony of their union, the sensation of Y/N's lips on his skin sending him spiralling into a euphoric abyss of pleasure and release. 

With a ragged gasp, Dean awoke from his dream, his body drenched in a sheen of sweat as he struggled to catch his breath. In the quiet solitude of his room, he lay still, his mind reeling from the intensity of the dream that had consumed him. 

Unable to bear the weight of his guilt any longer, Dean slipped out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the quiet solitude of the bunker. With each step, he replayed the events of the night in his mind. 

As he poured himself a cup of coffee, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he had let Y/N down, that he had betrayed her trust in the most intimate of ways. And as he watched her emerge from her room, her eyes bright with the promise of a new day, he couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze, the guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders. 

“Goodmorning.” she smiled pouring herself a cup, seeing how Dean took a sip while lifting his brow in response. Rushing out the kitchen. “What up with him?” Sam asked walking in. “No idea.”  

-- 

Days later Y/N had invited Charlie for a girl's night. Sam was out and Dean seemed not interested in a movie night with her. Charlie's eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity since she found she shared the bed with both brothers, her grin widening as she leaned in closer, eager to hear every juicy detail. 

Dean walked past their room overhearing the girls. 

"So spill it, Y/N," Charlie exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. "I need to know everything!" Y/N hesitated for a moment, her cheeks flushing crimson with embarrassment as she recalled the passionate nights she had shared.  

"Sam," Y/N began, her voice soft and reverent. "He's sweet, caring, attentive... Everything you could want in a boyfriend." Charlie nodded eagerly, hanging onto Y/N's every word as she listened intently. “But?” 

Her gaze dropping to her hands as she struggled to find the right words to describe her experiences with Dean. "But Dean..." Y/N trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dean was different. He was... intense, passionate, overwhelming... He made me feel things I never thought possible." 

Charlie's eyes widened in surprise at Y/N's confession, her curiosity piqued by the intensity of her words. "Wow," she breathed, her voice tinged with awe. "I had no idea things were so... intense between you and Dean." 

Y/N nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Yeah, well, Dean has a way of getting under your skin," she admitted, her voice filled with a mixture of longing and regret. 

As Y/N poured her heart out to Charlie, the weight of her confession hung heavy in the air, her words a mixture of vulnerability and longing. With each syllable, she bared her soul, revealing the intimate details of her experiences with the Winchester brothers. 

Sam, he's amazing in so many ways, but..." She paused, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she struggled to find the right words. “Yes, oh come on Y/N tell me!” Y/N took a deep breath, steeling herself for the confession she was about to make. "But he's...almost... too big," she admitted.  

“It feels amazing when he goes slow, but he is rougher. Which makes it almost painful...” Charlie's eyes widened in surprise at Y/N's revelation, her brow furrowing in concern as she processed the implications of her words. "Oh, Y/N," she murmured.  

"I've been with him for a year, and he's never been able to give me... more two orgasms I love Sam, I do. But..." Her words trailed off. "And Dean?" Charlie prompted gently, her voice soft with curiosity. 

Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson as she recalled the passionate night she had shared with Dean, the memory still fresh in her mind like an open wound. "Dean," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Dean was different. He... he had the perfect size. And eh, two in one night." 

"Two orgasms in one night?" she exclaimed, unable to hide her astonishment. 

Y/N nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Yeah," she admitted, "Two in one night." 

As the weight of her confession settled over them, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she had betrayed Sam in some way, that her desires had led her down a path she couldn't turn back from. 

Charlie's eyebrows furrowed in concern as she processed Y/N's confession, her heart aching for her friend as she struggled with the weight of her desires. "Have you talked to Sam about this?" she asked gently, her voice filled with compassion. 

Y/N nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands as she recalled the difficult conversations she had shared with Sam. "Yeah, I have, he says he’ll try to remember it" she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "But... he's more selfish lover than his brother." 

"I love Sam, I do. But sometimes... I can't help but wonder if things could be different." Then the girls heard a cough outside the door.  

Caught off guard, Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, his voice betraying none of the turmoil that churned within him. "Hey, Y/N," he began, forcing a casual tone despite the racing of his heart. "I was just, uh... passing by and I thought I heard voices.”  

Y/N arched an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between Dean and the open door behind him. "Really?" she asked, her tone tinged with scepticism. 

Dean nodded, his expression as neutral as he could manage. "Yeah, really," he insisted, his voice ringing hollow in his own ears. "I was thinking we could... you know, watch a movie or something. If you're up for it, that is." 

Y/N's lips curved into a small smile, her eyes softening with understanding. "Sure, Dean," she replied, her voice gentle. "That sounds nice." She looked at Charlie. “Sure, great idea.” 

As the three of them settled in to watch the movie in Dean's room, the air crackled with tension, the weight of unspoken desires hanging heavy in the air. Dean and Y/N sat side by side against the bed frame. 

Charlie, ever perceptive, couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts between them, the charged atmosphere that enveloped them like a cloak. She glanced between Dean and Y/N, her brow furrowing in concern.  

Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from Y/N, his gaze drawn to her like a moth to a flame. With each passing moment, the distance between them seemed to shrink, until they were mere inches apart, she knew if she wasn’t his brother girl he would have made a move.  

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as she felt Dean's gaze burning into her, his intensity palpable even in the dim light of the room. She found herself leaning closer to him.  

Charlie watched them with a mixture of concern and curiosity, her mind racing with questions that she dared not voice aloud. She knew that something had shifted between Dean and Y/N, something that went beyond the proper boundaries.  

As Y/N excused herself, when she gets a phone call from Sam who is helping out a fellow hunter, Charlie turned her attention to Dean, her expression serious as she addressed him directly. 

"You know, Dean," Charlie began, her voice low and measured. "You're playing with fire here." Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, a flicker of unease crossing his features as he met Charlie's gaze. "What do you mean?" he asked, his tone guarded. 

Charlie sighed, her eyes softening with concern. "I mean Y/N," she replied, her words laced with urgency. "Y/N is still your brother's girl." Dean's jaw tightened at Charlie's words, the weight of her reminder settling heavily on his shoulders.  

He knew she was right, knew that he was treading dangerous territory by allowing himself to be drawn to Y/N in ways that went beyond the bounds of brotherly loyalty. "I know," Dean replied, his voice strained with emotion.  

Charlie studied him for a moment, her gaze searching his face for any sign of hesitation or doubt. "You need to be careful, Dean," she urged, her concern evident in every word. "You could end up hurting both Y/N and Sam if you're not careful." Dean nodded.  

As Charlie left for the night, leaving Dean and Y/N alone once more, a heavy silence settled between them, “One more movie?” He asked, fraught with unspoken tension and longing.  

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, his fingers fidgeting with the remote as he struggled to find the right words. "Uh, so..." Dean began, his voice hesitant. "I, uh, couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Charlie earlier." 

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at Dean's admission, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she realized that their secrets were no longer safe. "Oh," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't realize you were listening." 

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the floor as he struggled to find the courage to address the elephant in the room. "Yeah, well, I heard enough to know that... things aren't exactly what you need.”  

"Yeah," she replied softly, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heart. "Things are complicated, to say the least." Dean nodded in agreement, his expression somber as he met Y/N's gaze. 

Dean reached out to gently grasp her hand, his touch a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within her. "You deserve to be happy, Y/N," he insisted, his voice firm with conviction.  

"And if Sam can't give you what you need... know that I... you can always.... I'm here, we can... you know," Dean stumbled over his words, his voice laced with hesitation as he struggled to articulate the depths of his feelings for Y/N. 

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Dean's confession, her breath catching in her throat at the implications of his words.  

"Dean," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you saying...?" 

Dean's gaze softened as he met Y/N's eyes, his own filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty.  

"I'm saying that... if you ever need someone to talk to, someone to lean on, I'll be here," He tried to safe himself. Afraid for her reaction. 

"Thank you, Dean," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion a pang of sadness tugged at her heart. She had dared to hope that his confession held deeper meaning.  

Dean let go of her hand, noticing her being quiet. "Y/N," Dean began, his voice gentle. "Isn’t that what you want?" Y/N's heart skipped a beat at Dean's question. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought maybe you meant... something more." 

"I don’t want to make things more complicated for you." Y/N shook her head, her gaze dropping to her lap as she struggled to find the right words. "It's not your fault," she insisted, her voice thick with emotion. "I just... It’s my fault I misread the situation.”  

A silence fell between them. "Don’t get me wrong, I would... sleep with you," Dean confessed, "if you weren't my brother's girl." Y/N's eyes widened in surprise at Dean's blunt honesty, her mind reeling with the implications of his words. She had never expected him to lay bare his desires so openly.  

A soft smile appeared on her lips. Dean continued, his words a relentless torrent of truth. "And I know, I mean, I've never heard you... having an orgasm," Dean confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "Not with Sam at least.” 

Y/N's cheeks flushed crimson at Dean's words, the intimacy of his observation sending a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine. She knew that Dean was right, knew that her relationship with Sam had always lacked the passion and intensity that she craved. 

"Dean," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heart. "I... I don't know what to say." Dean reached out to gently cup her cheek, his touch a tender caress against her skin. "You don't have to say anything," he reassured her.  

As Dean moved closer to Y/N, the air between them crackled with tension, but she pulls back. "What do you mean... you heard me?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.  

Dean hesitated for a moment, his gaze meeting hers with a mixture of guilt and longing. "In the motel, when I heard you moan." He swallows hard. "I... I might have played with myself," he confessed.  

"Oh," she murmured, her mind reeling with the implications of Dean's words. "I... I had no idea." Dean reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch sending shivers of anticipation racing down her spine. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I never meant to invade your privacy like that." 

“It’s ok.” she whispers feeling drawn to him. As their lips met the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the heat of their desire and the pounding of their hearts. Dean pulled Y/N onto his lap, her body fitting perfectly against his.  

Y/N gasped as she felt the undeniable evidence of Dean's arousal pressing against her, sending a surge of pleasure coursing through her veins. With a needy whimper, she surrendered to the intoxicating sensation, her hands tangling in Dean's hair as she deepened the kiss, her lips moving hungrily against his. 

His hands roamed over Y/N's body, his touch igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume them both. Their kisses grew more urgent, more desperate, as they abandoned themselves to the primal need that burned between them.  

Y/N heard herself moan at his touch, her heart raced as she pulled away from Dean, her mind swimming with a tumult of conflicting emotions. She couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that washed over her, the weight of their actions pressing down on her like a heavy stone. 

"This is wrong," she whispered, Dean's eyes widened in surprise at Y/N's words, his own heart heavy with the weight of their shared guilt. He knew that she was right, knew that they had crossed a line that should never have been crossed, and yet, he couldn't bring himself to regret the passion that had ignited between them. 

"I know," Dean murmured, his voice tinged with regret as he reached out to gently cup Y/N's cheek. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I shouldn't have..." Y/N shook her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she met Dean's gaze with a mixture of longing and sorrow. "It's not only your fault. I’m sorry. ”  

She ran out his room.  

-- 

As Sam returned from the hunt, he couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor. Her eyes seemed distant, her smile forced, and he knew in an instant that something was wrong. Determined to lift her spirits, he made a spur-of-the-moment decision to take her out on a date, hoping to reignite the spark that had once burned so brightly between them. 

planning the most romantic evening he could imagine. He whisked Y/N away to a secluded spot overlooking the city, where they dined under the stars, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm, intimate glow over their table. With each passing moment, Sam poured his heart and soul into making the night perfect, his every gesture a testament to his love and devotion. 

Meanwhile, back at the bunker, Dean couldn't sleep so got out of bed to take a snack, hearing how late they came back home. Their laughter floating through the air like a sweet melody.  

As Y/N's lips trailed teasingly along Sam's neck, her touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume them both, Sam couldn't help but gasp in surprise at the sudden intensity of their encounter. 

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he felt her lips pressing against his skin, her hands roaming eagerly over his body. "Where did this come from?" 

Y/N paused for a moment, her eyes meeting Sam's with a mischievous twinkle as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I just really missed you.” 

With a needy whimper, Sam pulled Y/N closer, his lips seeking hers in a fervent kiss that left them both breathless and wanting more. As they made their way to their room, Dean's heart felt heavy hearing her whisper “We need to be quiet don’t want to wake Dean.”  

--  

As Y/N watched from across the bar, a knot formed in her stomach as she witnessed Dean charming his way into the company of a beautiful woman. “Unbelievable how he does that.” Sam said. “Huh, yeah, right, unbelievable.”  

She couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as she imagined the spicy night that awaited him, knowing that she would be left alone to wrestle with her own desires. 

Turning away from the scene before her, Y/N forced a smile as she turned to Sam, her heart heavy with the weight of her own desires. "Let's get out of here," she suggested, her voice tinged with sadness. He agreed "Lead the way." 

Back in the bunker, Y/N found herself tossing and turning in bed, unable to shake the image of Dean and his companion from her mind. Imagining the high-pitched moans only served to fuel her arousal, sending a shiver racing down her spine. 

Beside her, Sam slept soundly, oblivious of her irritation. She looked at her beautiful, tall muscular man, yet couldn't help feeling irritated he fell asleep while she changed into a sexy outfit for him.

Soon Y/N’s thoughts changed to thoughts of Dean. With a quiet whimper, Y/N pressed her thighs together, feeling the heat of her desire building with each passing moment.  

She knew that she should feel guilty for indulging in such thoughts, knew that she should be focused on her relationship with Sam, but in that moment, all she could think about was the raw passion that Dean and his companion were sharing now. 

Y/N couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be in the arms of someone like Dean, to experience the kind of passion again and excitement that he shared with this girl. 

As Y/N tossed and turned in bed, unable to quell the restless thoughts that plagued her mind, she finally gave in to the overwhelming urge to get up and clear her head. Slipping quietly out of bed, she padded across the bunker floor.  

Seeing how Dean sneaked in, “You’re back early?” Y/N blurted out, unable to keep the question from escaping her lips. Dean turned to face her, his expression tense with regret. "I... I couldn't do it," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Y/N nodded in understanding as she made her way back to the room. As Y/N turned to leave, Dean's hand shot out, gently grasping her arm and holding her back. His eyes bore into hers, searching for answers to questions he couldn't bring himself to voice. 

"Did you and Sam... tonight?" Dean started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she met Dean's gaze with a mixture of sadness and resignation.  

"No," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "He fell asleep before I even got out of the bathroom." Dean's jaw clenched at Y/N's words, a surge of possessiveness coursing through him at the thought of Sam's missed opportunity. But as his gaze trailed down to take in the sight of her in the sexy babydoll dress, desire flared within him.  

Tension crackled in the air between them as they stood there, locked in a silent battle. And then, without warning, Dean closed the distance between them, his lips crashing down on hers in a desperate, hungry kiss. 

Y/N gasped in surprise at the sudden intensity of Dean's embrace, but any protests she might have had were lost in the heat of the moment. With a needy whimper, she melted into his arms, her hands tangling in his hair as they surrendered to the overwhelming tide of desire.  

As their passion ignited like wildfire, Dean's hands roamed eagerly over Y/N's body, igniting a blaze of desire that threatened to consume them both. Unable to resist the primal urge that pulsed through his veins, Dean lifted Y/N onto the table with a desperate urgency, the cool surface pressing against her heated skin as their bodies melded together in a frenzy of desire.  

With a needy whimper, Y/N wrapped her legs around Dean's waist, pulling him closer as they lost themselves in the ecstasy of their union. Moans of pleasure filled the air in the bunker, their cries of passion echoing off the walls as they surrendered to each other.  

Dean's lips brushed against Y/N's ear, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent shivers of anticipation racing down her spine. "I don't get it, Y/N," Dean murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Why doesn't Sammy take care of you like this? Why doesn't he make you feel the way you deserve to feel?" 

Y/N gasped at Dean's words, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt the weight of his desire pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. She had never heard Dean speak so boldly, so openly, and yet, in that moment, she couldn't deny the truth of his words. 

"I don't know," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper as she surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of Dean's touch. "But I don't care. All I want is you, Dean. Only you." 

Dean's lips curled into a wicked grin at Y/N's confession, his hands trailing down her body in a tantalizing caress. "That's right, sweetheart," he growled, his voice dripping with desire. "Because nobody can take care of you like I can." 

As Dean's fingers traced tantalizing patterns along the delicate fabric of Y/N's panties, a shiver of anticipation raced down her spine, her breath catching in her throat at the promise of what was to come. With each teasing touch, she felt herself growing more and more desperate for him, her body humming with a hunger that only he could satisfy. 

When Dean finally slid her panties down, baring her to his hungry gaze, Y/N felt a rush of heat flood through her, her skin tingling with the electric thrill of his touch. His fingers explored the slick warmth between her legs, sending waves of pleasure crashing over her as she arched into his touch, her need growing more urgent with each passing moment. 

With a growl of desire, Dean lowered his own pants just enough to free himself, his arousal evident, as he positioned his perfect cock between her thighs, teasing her before he pushed himself inside her, inch by delicious inch, Y/N felt a surge of ecstasy wash over her, her body trembling with pleasure.  

Their movements were urgent and primal, each thrust driving them closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. With each touch, each kiss, they surrendered themselves to the overwhelming tide of passion that swept them away.  

As Dean's lips trailed a path of fire across Y/N's skin, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake, Y/N's breath hitched in her throat, her body arching into his touch as pleasure washed over her in waves. 

Dean murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire as he urged her to give voice to the ecstasy that coursed through her veins. "Say my name." And as Y/N whispered Dean's name like a prayer, her voice filled with longing and desire, she felt herself teetering on the edge of oblivion, lost in a sea of sensation that threatened to overwhelm her completely. 

As their passion reached a fever pitch, Y/N's breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the intensity "Harder, Dean," Y/N begged, her voice thick with longing as she urged him to push her to the brink of oblivion. "Please, I need it harder." 

Dean's eyes darkened with desire at Y/N's plea, his movements growing more urgent and intense as he sought to fulfil her every desire. With a growl of passion, he complied, driving himself deeper into her with a force that left her breathless and wanting more. 

And as Y/N's cries of pleasure filled the air, echoing off the walls of the bunker in a symphony of ecstasy, she felt herself hurtling towards the edge of oblivion. With one final, earth-shattering cry, Y/N surrendered herself to the ecstasy of her release, her body convulsing with pleasure as she was consumed by the overwhelming tide of sensation that washed over her. 

As Dean pressed a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead, she closed her eyes and sighed contentedly, her heart felt heavy realising what she just had done.  

-- 

As Dean entered the library, his brow furrowed with concern, he couldn't help but notice the absence of Y/N's presence. His heart sank at the sight, a sense of unease settling over him like a dark cloud. "Hey, where's Y/N?" Dean asked, his voice tinged with worry as he turned to face Sam noticing his emotions. 

Sam's expression darkened at Dean's question, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach as he struggled to find the right words to say. "She... she left," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Dean's heart skipped a beat at Sam's revelation, a sense of dread washing over him as he waited for Sam to continue. "She broke up with me," Sam confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "Said something about... about cheating on me and not being able to look me in the eyes anymore." 

Dean's heart shattered at Sam's words, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. He had never meant to hurt his brother, had never intended for things to spiral out of control like this. And yet, here they were, facing the consequences of his actions. 

"I'm sorry, Sam," Dean murmured, his voice heavy with regret. But Sam just shook his head, his eyes filled with pain and betrayal. he said quietly. "I should have seen it coming. I should have known..." 

As Sam's words echoed in the quiet of the library, Dean's heart clenched with a mixture of guilt and sorrow. He knew that Sam blamed himself for what had happened, but Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he was the one ultimately responsible for driving Y/N away. 

"I should have seen the signs, should have known something was wrong." 

With a heavy sigh, he reached out to place a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, offering what little solace he could in the face of their shared grief. 

"We'll get through this, Sam," Dean murmured, his voice tinged with determination.  

And as they sat there in the quiet of the library, their hearts heavy with the weight of their shared sorrow.  

-------

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

I know this is so bad. But I also feel this wouldn't be the first time Dean "steals" Sam's girl. Maybe more as a teen than as an adult, and maybe not sleeping with her but, still...

Tag list: -> If you want to be added let me know!

@yvonneeeee

#fanfic #fluff #smut #x reader #jensen ackles #dean winchester #spn #18+ content #18+ only #18+ blog #jensen fucking ackles #jensenedit #supernatural #x y/n #y/n #x y/n smut #fem reader #x female reader #reader insert #spicy content #sam and dean #sam winchester #jared padalecki

[emerald-chaos]

walkin’ on sunshine

Sooooo I couldn’t help myself. I’m finally caught up with season 2 of Jujutsu Kaisen and I am horrendously in my feelings. Here’s just an itty bitty blurb to help me cope with those feelings (although I still ended up hurting my feelings).

word count: 573

pairing: none, just the OG trio and fellow sorcerer reader

warnings: heart-wrenching fluff

a/n; first time writing anything in AGES and also for the jjk fandom, pls have mercy on me. not beta’d, all mistakes were made by my big dumb brain.

divider by @saradika <3

The sun’s rays dance around the leaves of the tree you’re situated under—the warmth enveloping you like an embrace.

One hand outstretched behind you, propping you up, while the other toys with Shoko’s hair as she lays in your lap with her eyes closed.

The day couldn’t be any more perfect—not even if you dreamt it up.

A few yards in front of you, Geto and Gojo toss a frisbee back and forth—both doing whatever they can to try to make it impossible for the other to catch it. Their voices continue to get louder as they argue over something you can’t quite make out.

It was an off day, a rare day.

No missions to be done, no curses to exorcise, no wounds to bandage up.

It was like not even cursed energy could exist here. In this space, in your space, surrounded by the sun and your longtime friends. It was too perfect, too simplistic, too…happy.

“Y’think it’ll always be like this?”

Your own voice almost startles you—like it came from your chest without you even trying.

“Mm?”

Shoko opens one eye as she looks up at you, eyebrows knitted together.

Tilting your head down toward her, you can’t help but smile. A beat passes before she sits up, peeling herself from your lap to rummage through her bag for a cigarette.

Geto’s laugh catches your attention—your head turning toward him to see Gojo attached to his back, yelling something angrily.

The smile you were trying on for size bubbled up and blossomed into a full blown laugh.

Those laughs came so easily when this trio was involved.

Your chest felt tight, that feeling you’ve only ever felt once before—in a situation not unlike this one. It was like your body was holding so much love that it was going to start pouring out of your pores. The emotion was so strong—so intense—that it made it hard to breathe.

The familiar smell of nicotine drifts into your senses.

“I hope so.”

You look over to Shoko—holding her cigarette and sporting a half smile as she watches the two men, who have now caught the attention of a very friendly pup.

There’s a lump that develops in your throat, accompanying that tightness in your chest. Why on earth would you want to cry in a time like this? When you felt like nothing in the world could take this feeling of pure catharsis away from you?

Your eyes follow hers to watch as Geto and Gojo squat down, taking turns showering the dog in praise. The former curses and yelps had now turned into kind words—the playful lilt to their voices returned.

You purse your lips, doing everything you can internally to push down that lump from your throat and to break that tightness in your chest. Gojo had always teased you for being so sensitive. On the other hand, Geto always praised it as one of your strengths.

But how could you help it? This was your perfect little family, on the most perfect day.

Tearing you from your thoughts, Gojo turns back toward you both—waving frantically and summoning you both over to meet their new friend.

As quickly as it came, those heavy feelings seem to float away from your body—leaving behind a pure, sunshine like sensation.

Is this what Gojo feels? Being the strongest? Like nothing and no one in the world could ever take that away?

“Yeah. Me too.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #satoru Gojo #geto suguru #suguru geto #shoko ieiri #ieiri shoko #gojo fluff #geto fluff #shoko fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #let’s see how much I hate this tomorrow after I wake up!

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Killer In NYC

Tara Carpenter X Reader

Part 5- Secret Secrets

3rd Person POV

Tara, Mindy, and Chad agreed to meet Sam somewhere public after she finished her shift.

The trio decided on the usual coffee shop as Evan ran up to his girlfriend.

"Tara!" The girl smiled weakly still upset over the death of Sasha. The boy giving the girl a hug before pulling back to look at her face.

"Are you ok?" Mindy scoffed.

"Of course not dumbass her friends died from a killer we thought was gone."

Ethan glared at Mindy. "Sorry for caring."

Mindys eyes narrowed. "You know if you really cared like-"

Tara cut the two off. "Stop!" She looked at Mindy with wide eyes knowing exactly where that sentence was going.

Everyone's attention turned to Sam who came rushing in. The older Carpenter almost crashing into their table.

"Sorry I'm late." Tara stood giving her sister a hug before feeling how cold she was. The younger sister quickly making her way to the cash register.

"I'll have a-"

"Iced matcha latte with oat milk." Familiar eyes behind black frames met hers with a small grin. Tara couldn't help but grin back at her favorite barista.

"You're back?" The girl nodded.

"Yeah can't exactly afford to miss work so popped a couple of painkillers and here I am." The taller girl shrugged somewhat embarrassed to meet the brunettes eyes.

Tara's hand went over the counter to pat the others in comfort.

"We'll I'm glad you're ok." The two smiled at each other staring.

Evans eyes narrowed slightly as he saw his girlfriend talking to his coworker. Usually, they would hold small conversations but something in Tara's body language made this feel more intimate.

He wasn't stupid he knew of Y/N's crush on Tara and made sure the other girl knew where they stood.

It was their first week of dating and he caught Y/n staring at Tara a little longer than necessary. Tara had been somewhat hesitant with PDA whenever she was around and it annoyed him to no end.

He jumped over the counter grabbing the smaller girl by the waist and kissing her. His eyes open and staring at the barista behind the counter. She clenched her jaw looking away as Tara's arms wrapped around the boy. The two pulled away.

Tara's face slightly flushed as the boy smiled stroking her cheek.

Evan smirked at the memory.

Mindy as always had noticed Tara's bright smile when she spoke to Y/N, however this time she was sure to make note of Evans reaction. She looked the boy up and down as he went to stand, making his way over to the two. She nudged Sam who was looking down in her purse in search of her phone. Confused the Carpenter sister swung her head to Mindy before her eyes made their way to the scene about to take place.

"Hey babe you could've asked me to make you something." The boy broke the staring contest between the two as Y/n quickly went to make Tara's order.

The smaller girl chuckled slightly uncomfortable at the heavy weight of her boyfriends arm around her shoulder.

"I figured you were on break so I didn't want to bother you." The boy laughed and began to get behind the counter.

"Nonsense go sit and I'll get everything ready for us." She nodded reluctantly stealing one last glance at Y/n, the other girl clenching her jaw as the boy snatched Tara's cup out of her hand. His voice low as he hissed at the barista.

"Stop flirting with a girl who doesn't want you it's pathetic." Y/N's head went back in offense.

"Excuse me?" Evan chuckled as he continued fixing the drink.

"I'm just saying you keep confusing being nice with flirting and it's kind of annoying considering my girlfriend isn't a fucking lesbo." Evans smug grin was wiped away quickly by a fist. He fell to the ground hand over his mouth to mask his smile as Y/n towered over him. The shop erupting in chaos, Tara running over as Y/N groaned rotating her shoulder. Mindy and Sam looked on wide eyed as well, they were watching the two and to Mindy it was obvious their discussion was anything but cordial.

"What the fuck Y/N?!" The smaller girl crouched down by her boyfriend making the other girl scoff as she watched the boy play victim, she shook her head.

Fuck this.

"I’m going home.” She threw her apron on Evan. "You can use that to clean yourself up."

.

.

.

.

Evans mouth was being dabbed with a napkin by Tara who remained silent.

Chad stood back admiring Y/N's work as Mindy crouched closer to the couple staring at Evan for a moment.

"What did you say?" The boy looked to her in surprise.

"Excuse me?" Mindys eyes narrowed.

"Y/n doesn't seem like the type to punch people out of nowhere and you were there talking for a few minutes before she punched you. What did you say?" Evan scoffed laughing a bit.

"How do you know it was me? It's not my fault that she has a crush on Tara." Everyone's eyebrows rose to this not expecting the boy to actually catch on to the baristas feelings.

Mindy stood behind her brother one hand on his shoulder. "That still doesn't explain why she hit you.."

"All I said was Tara is my girlfriend not hers. Why are you so quick to defend her?! For all you know she's the killer!" Sam stepped forward as Tara stayed in the same position.

"How does her having a crush on me make her the killer?" The question too low to be fully understood. Everyone eyes turned to the younger Carpenter.

"Huh?"

"I SAID how does a crush make her the killer?" Evan stared for a moment growing uncomfortable. He hadn't expected his girlfriend to not take his side.

"I mean it's obvious."

"How?"

"If she can't have you no one else can." Mindy supplied. "But if that were the motive then that makes you just as much a suspect as her Evan." Her arms folded across her chest. She began to feel a sense of Deja vu as she remembered having this conversation between Wes and Amber.

Tara definitely has a type.

As the younger kids continued to argue Sam stared at the glass display of food, a familiar figure appearing before her.

"It wouldn't be the first time it was the boyfriend." Billy smiled on at Sam. "Do you really think David loves you?"

"Jealousy really isn't attractive." Mindy jumped in.

Evan just laughed. "Seriously Tara's not even into girls."

Everyone turned to the younger girl who made her way to the door.

"Tara!" Sam stood running after her with Chad as Mindy stayed behind with her younger sisters boyfriend. She held up her hand up once she stepped outside.

"Just give a me a minute." Chad and Sam were skeptical but the younger Carpenter insisted she'd be fine.

Tara POV

Flashback

It was late and I had just finished my final for the semester. Evan was too tired to join and I really just wanted to forget everything about today. We weren't official yet just a few dates here and there.

I saw Y/n from across the bar. She was dressed in a black long sleeve shirt, jeans and Nikes. Her usual chain hanging from her neck.

There was a girl there who kept laughing at everything she said. It was when she put her hand on her shoulder I made my way over to them.

"Hey y/n/n." She looked down at me smiling.

"Hey Tara you having a good time?" I nodded looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Yup." I said popping the "p".  She barely spared a glance to the other girl as she offered to get me a drink.

I nodded eagerly as we made our way to the bar the crowd of bodies making sure we were close to each other at all times.

"What would you like?" I shrugged. She squinted at me before getting me something that tasted like juice. I smiled downing the cup before asking for another her eyes widened as she guffawed.

"I'll get you one more but try to drink this one a little slower." She passed me the cup as our hands grazed each other. I peeked at her from under my eyelashes noticing her gaze wasn't exactly on my eyes. She gulped shaking her head a bit.

"You look beautiful Tara." I felt myself blush.

As the next song came on I yelled grabbing y/n's hand putting the cup down and taking her with me to the dance floor. The other girl scowling at us in the corner.

I pulled her close.

"Uh Tara I-"

I looked up at her with puppy dog eyes.

"I just wanna dance with someone I actually like.” She chuckled giving in and moving with me. I turned putting my back to her, closing my eyes as I started feeling warmer. I threw my hands around the back of her neck pulling her closer.

Her hands slowly made their way around me, I tilted my neck and we continued moving. A small part of me whispered this was a bad idea, the rest of me felt too good to stop.

"Tara," I felt her lips graze my ear making goosebumps appear.

The girl from earlier came up.

"Hey y/n wanna dance with me next?"

My eyes popped open and I glared at her.

We both stopped dancing as I turned abruptly.

I looked up into those (e/c) eyes, for once they weren't covered by glasses. I glanced back at the girl who raised an eyebrow at us. I smirked back, grabbed the front of y/n shirt and crashed my lips to hers.

End of Flashback

.

.

.

Professor Freddie was walking to his car smiling he had just finished another "tutoring session" with one of his students.

He whistled as he unlocked the door stopping when he saw the back window broken. Furrowing his eyebrows he slowly walked closer to investigate, leaning down he saw a rock with a note attached.

Secrets Secrets are no fun....

A figure slammed his head on the car door, making the man groan. He looked up to see Ghostface standing over him the killer basking in the moment.

"Wait please don't!"

The figure paused head tilted as if they were truly contemplating his request before slamming the knife down into the older man's chest.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #scream vi #wlw post #femme for masc

[luvghostie]

ೃ⁀➷𝙃𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙

𝘎𝘕 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 + 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦

The air was crisp, clinging ever so gently to the breeze that swept the night. Kids running up and down the street, people handing out candy, and houses booming with music. It was All Hollows’ Eve. The celebration is observed in many countries on 31 October. People dress up, carve pumpkins, trick or treat, and throw parties. However, there are always a select few whom don't celebrate.

You were at a house party with your two other friends. Each member of the trio was doing something different. One was drinking rather hard, the other was starting fights, and you were sitting on the front porch alone.

House parties weren't exactly your thing. The loud music and sexual gestures weren't exciting to you. Rather, you'd love to stay at home handing out candies. You were still dressed up, of course. You sported a very nice witch costume, not the usual mole-faced one. This time you added... spice. Regardless, No amount of catcalling and drunk people could change your Halloween spirit.

You dug through some candy you snatched from the party. Twix, Snickers, Hershey's, you had all kinds of goodies. Each piece reminded you of a special moment in your childhood. You still recall the first time you ate candy. The sugary snack was something you loved since and craved since the day.

Before you could decide what you wanted you felt uneasy. Like, something or someone was watching you. Looking around the lonely porch you spotted someone in the distance. They were approaching the house with what looked to be... A garbage bag? You tried not to think about the person too much. After all, you were at a house party. Maybe he lived here or knew these people somehow.

The air blew harder sending a chill throughout your body. “Damn, why does it have to be so cold?” you asked yourself, clinging to the little warmth you had left. Fall was amazing to you however, just like any season it has its downs. Sickness and coldness, are two things you hated feeling and getting during this time of year.

Sudden creeks startled you from your thoughts. Someone was going up the stairs nearing you. Looking over to your left you see, a clown. His nose was pointy and long, his outfit black and white, and how could you forget the little hat that rested on his head.

“Oh,” you said, jumping slightly. You didn't expect to see someone with such a good costume here. Little alone a clown. Collecting your thoughts again you smiled at the man. “Sorry, you scared me. I really like your costume though.”

The man's eye moved to yours, a grin spreading on his pale face. He pointed at himself giving a “are you talking to me?” kind of expression. Giggling you nodded your head in agreement. “Yes, you, no one here has a cool costume like that!” you stated, pointing towards the closed door leading inside.

His eyes moved to the door and back to yours. You expected him to say something. Whether that be a thank you or screw off, you thought something would be let out. He instead bowed to you as if you were of high class. That's never happened to you but coming from this guy, it felt sweet.

As he raised up his hand started to reach into one of his pockets. He searched in there for a few seconds soon bringing out a piece of paper. You were confused, to say the least. That is until you received the paper from the clown.

“Art,” you said aloud, now wanting an answer to this word. “What does that mean?” you questioned him looking back up. He simply pointed to himself giving you the missing piece. “that's your name?” he lifted his thumbs up signifying your first guess was correct. “I'm y/n, nice to meet you, Art.” you reached your hand out to formally greet him for the first time. Art's hand clasped around yours, shaking it ever so gently.

Something about him felt familiar. Something felt, off. You pushed whatever that feeling was down and took this as an opportunity. “Well, Art, would you like to go get our Halloween spirit on?” you questioned. Art's eyes gleamed as he answered your request with actions. You could already feel this was the start of an amazing friendship.

#reqs open #ask me anything #reader x character #slashers #art the clown #art the clown x reader #david howard thornton #back on my clown shit #terrifier #terrifier 2 #story? #horror community #horror babe #slasher movies #slasher boyfriend

[fearfulachilles]

3. missing.

chapter three to buop (nanami kento x reader jjk medical au.) .

full contents here.

summar: dr. gojo bumps into your roommates at the bar while you've disappeared. and it seems that dr. gojo's friend has disappeared, too.

Megumi returns with more drinks, but your seat stays empty a little longer. Yuji and Nobara carry on their conversation with Megumi joining in occasionally. Suddenly, Yuji recognizes a familiar face.

“Is that Dr. Gojo?” Yuji is surprised, nearly confused. The other two turn to look at the white haired man.

Dr. Gojo did all the interviews, not just yours. And because Nobara, Megumi, and Yuji were located near Jujutsu Metropolitan hospital and clinic, they got to meet him in person.

“What's a doctor doing in a bar?” Yuji asks.

“Doctors aren't like teachers, idiot. They don't live in hospitals, they're allowed to have a social life.” Nobara nags him.

Megumi holds in his breath, his eyebrow twitches, and then he sighs to himself. “You're both...” He decides not to finish his thought.

Nobara and Yuji look back to where they spotted Dr. Gojo, but now they see the physician approaching their table. They both freak out internally. What are the odds of running into your future boss at a bar?

The uniquely haired doctor makes it to the table with a friendly smile. Satoru doesn't view himself as the boss, so he doesn't pick up on the stress energy the younger ones have.

“Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi!” Satoru greets them happily. “All in one place, how lucky am I.”

The trio greet Satoru back and make small talk. Satoru tells them he's here with a another doctor they'll be working with, but Satoru can't seem to find him anymore. Then Satoru asks for you.

“Is she able to make it on Monday? I remember she mentioned having to relocate during her interview.” Satoru takes a sip out of his mocktail, flavors of fruits bursting in his mouth.

Yuji eagerly nods. “Yeah, she'll be there with us. She just moved today.”

“Yeah, where is she, anyways?” Megumi mumbles, but Satoru hears it clearly. He watches Megumi scan the room for you, his own eyes wandering for his blonde friend.

“Seems like we both lost our friends. How about that.” Satoru takes another sip of his drink, highly aware of the coincidence.

You're not far from them, currently straddling the stranger you just met inside of his car. His eyes never left your lips, so you finally gave in and kissed him first.

Kento's touches were minimal, mostly lingering on the small of your back when you were in the bar. But here, as you sit on his lap, you don't have an inch you left untouched by him. The tips of his fingers drag along your skin, underneath your shirt, like he needs to feel you closer.

He doesn't know what's come over him, but he likes the feeling of you. You're soft, warm, contrasting against his rigid and cold body. You felt like the warmth ray of sunlight in an early morning in winter. He couldn't get enough.

Kento doesn't realize how long it had been since he felt this eager to be with another person. His hands roamed your curves and edges to get to know them better, to know your body like he needed to memorize it. His hands slithered up your abdomen, tickling you near your bellybutton.

You let out a breathy laugh on his lips and Kento drinks up the sound immediately. He wants to know what other sounds you make.

The pads of his thumbs rest on both your nipples and he begins moving his thumbs in circles. He noticed your lack of a bra inside of the bar when your nipples hardened after some cold air of the outside rushed in when the front door was opened. He wanted to clear the bar top and wrap his mouth around your breasts then, but he forced his eyes to focus elsewhere to respect you. The only other place he was able to focus on were your lips, which led to this moment now.

Kento feels himself harden in his pants beneath you. You feel it too, the growing bulge wasn't something you could ignore. You adjust yourself on his lap even more, your own clothed pelvis now resting above his. You rock your hips gently, testing the waters. You weren't a stranger to car sex, but you knew it wasn't everyone's favorite.

You hear him curse, low and slow. One of his hands falls to your hip and takes over for you. You want to whimper, loving the control he's taking. Your breath hitches sharply when he moves you on him, his bulge and your clothing rubbing against your clit feels amazing.

You're both needy, breathless, nipping at each other's lips, and fogging up his car windows.

“My place. Let's go?” Kento manages to ask between kissing. You hum and nod, grinding against his swollen bulge further. He wants to explain to you that he doesn't usually do this, and he's not usually like this. He could tell you, but you're positive you won't be able to listen.

“Let's go, hm, now.” You agree. Your hand sneaks down his chest, down his toned stomach you feel beneath his shirt, to his constrained cock. You rub your palm against it, in a teasing manner. “Or fuck me here.”

Your palm is warm, and his body is already burning up. He nods too, but he doesn't know what he was agreeing to: going to his place or right here, right now. He's just overwhelmed with how good your hand feels on his dick.

Kento doesn't realize the overwhelming feeling is actually an orgasm until it's too late. You kept making the prettiest sounds and rubbing his dick; he couldn't take it. You watch him cum underneath you, your heart rate quickening as you commit his face to memory. You've never had that happen. Sure, Choso would always cum first, but at least he'd been inside of you in some way.

His pleasure doesn't last very long afterwards. His sweat turns cold and he becomes very still.

Fuck.

“It's...” you begin, and Kento cringes. You slowly remove yourself off of him. “It's o—it's alright.”

You should take this as a compliment, right? You made him cum in his pants, after just some mild foreplay. You're just that good, it's definitely not because of... his stamina. You're not sure you should ask, or stick around to find out.

“I'll probably shouldn't have left my friends anways...” You settle in the passenger seat next to the driver's seat Kento is in. You bite your lip and think to yourself how long until it's... appropriate to leave. You purse your lips and study Kento next to you.

He hasn't looked at you in these lasting seconds. He doesn't even want to look at himself either.

“This never...” He trails off, feeling off that he needs to explain that this truly never happens. He thinks back to his most recent night with his fiancé, hours of fucking her until she's drooling on his couch, and he couldn't last minutes while clothed with you. You'd never believe him, even if he tried to tell you.

“No, yeah, I've been with guys who—um, you know...” You're digging yourself a hole. “It's super common, actually. I—it's not, like, bad.” Okay, maybe you're drowning instead.

You decide to pull the trigger. “I should get going. Thanks—uh—you know.”

Kento grips his steering wheel and his eyes don't look towards you, they continue to just look down. He lost this one, and it's devastating for more reasons than one. He hears his car door open and shut then finally looks at the empty seat next to him.

You make your way back into the bar and quickly find your group. They look like they're finishing up and getting ready to leave and you're thankful for it. Yuji looks happy to see you and Megumi asks where you've been. Nobara spots your swollen lips and red cheeks.

“You hooked up with someone.” She points out.

The young men beside her freeze in the moment and avoid looking at you while waiting for your answer.

“No,” you're adamant. “I didn't— weren't we just leaving? Let’s go.”

Nobara giggles and takes the first steps exiting the bar and the rest of you follow. Yuji walks next to you and asks what you meant by your vague Catch up with you guys later text, but you scrunch your nose and tell him to disregard it. You don’t feel like talking about what just happened.

Until you’re home and you’ve locked Nobara in your room.

“In his pants?” She questions, despite you just finish telling her the whole incident of what took place inside the stranger’s car.

You nod, biting on your nail. “I feel bad. I just left after that.”

She wants to laugh, it comes out in small chuckles. “He’s… It probably wasn’t his first time dealing with that.”

You groan and sit on your bed next to her.

“It’s a gift, really.” Nobara comforts you with a hand on your back. “I’ve done that to tons of people.”

You hear a muffled She has? from the other side of your bedroom door. You groan again and flop down onto your back on your bed. Nobara yells at the eavesdropper to show themselves.

Yuji shows his face first, then Megumi shamefully follows behind him. They heard everything. Yuji only eavesdropped because he was worried of how different you had been acting after leaving the bar. Megumi just happened to walk past Yuji on his way to his own room.

Yuji goes to lay on his back too, turning to look at you. Megumi takes a place sitting beside Nobara. He quietly asks what's going on, and Nobara not so quietly explains it to him.

“At least you never have to see him again.” Yuji says, trying to comfort you. You cover your face and nod in agreement.

“Does it really happen to a lot of guys?” Nobara asks. Yuji and Megumi’s answers intertwine and stumble over the other, a mix of Sure but not me, Never happened to me.

The next day, the one before the first day of work, was filled with innuendoes, puns, and the creation of a new inside joke regarding what happened the day before. You couldn't keep yourself from hiding your giggles at the childish and very mean game they were playing. You still felt bad for the man, it must've been embarrassing to have happen.

“Too soon, guys.” You say, but that itself gained laughter from your roommates.

#jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami smut #kento nanami #kento nanami fluff #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #afab reader #break us on purpose #fearfulachilles #buop

[restinslices]

hiii hope you're having a good day<3

i wanted ask for some Lin Kuei trio angst? like between the brothers? you can choose how to with the plot, im just really craving angst rn and would love if you could write it IF you're okay with it of course. thank you! (love your writing btw it's heavenly 😭🙏🏻)

I made a post a hot minute ago that was “LKBS X Enemy Reader MK1 Intros” and the plot was that the reader betrayed them and killed the other two brothers. So when you asked for angst, my initial thought was “huh… how would they react to their deaths?”. The reader is still like the Dimitrescu sisters because I’m unoriginal.

Doing Bi-Han this time around BUT if you'd like me to do this from Kuai Liang and/or Tomas’ POV (different scenario. Whoever's POV it's from is the one watching the others die) feel free to ask. Word count is 2964

Also we back in the gif era.

If you were to ask Bi-Han what the most powerful drug was, he'd say it was regret. 

“Regret isn't a drug” one would say. “You're wrong” is what he would say back. 

Regret was just as strong as any street drug, maybe even stronger. You only needed a whiff of regret, before it consumed your whole life and you started to regret small things that didn't even matter. Regret took a hold of someone and choked them until the air was forcefully pounded out of their lungs and until their skin turned cold. That's how Bi-Han felt at least. Like he couldn't breathe. Like his skin was colder than usual. Like he walked through his days but never actually lived. Like he was a dead man walking. 

The ice dagger cut into Kuai Liang’s skin so deep, it created a scar that ran up his face and over his eye. 

A warning. 

That's all Bi-Han wanted it to be. 

Kuai Liang couldn't possibly understand the stress Bi-Han was under as the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, nor could Tomas, and Bi-Han wouldn't wish such a fate on either of them even if he could. Only Bi-Han knew how it felt to be the leader of the most powerful clan, yet being forced to remain idle. The Lin Kuei were meant for more than this, how was it that Bi-Han was the only one that saw this?!

“End this brother!”, he commanded. “Embrace the future!”. His word was supposed to be law! He wanted Kuai Liang to end this meaningless fight and stand by his side like he always did. 

Kuai Liang stayed defiant and refused. Fine. Kuai Liang was just in shock. Bi-Han would defeat him and Tomas in combat, and when they awoke they'd listen to him and this entire fight could be forgotten. Just a quarrel between brothers. 

Bi-Han felt something on his shoulder and swatted at it. 

Just a fly. Whatever. 

Then there was another. And another. And soon, before Kuai Liang and Bi-Han could even begin their fight, a wave of flies flew towards them and knocked all three of them off of their feet. 

Bi-Han tried to gather himself when suddenly he felt the tug of someone pulling him up to his feet. Soft familiar hands that he held almost daily, and slid a ring upon years ago. He knew of your… condition. He just didn't know you had been following him. 

“To your feet Bi-Han” you chastised, which was unusual to hear from your lips, which usually spoke words in a soft and loving tone, even to your enemies. “I didn't knock you down as hard as I did them”. 

Your fingers caressed his arm as your lips slowly went up his neck and to his ear. Under any other circumstance, he would've took you right then and there, but none of it felt right. Besides it clearly being a terrible time to think about sex, something in his gut told him that something was wrong. 

He ignored it and that became one of his many regrets. 

“Well done Bi-Han” you spoke quietly into his ear. “Now kill them”. 

What? He must've heard wrong or maybe that was one of his own intrusive thoughts. Surely you wouldn't say something like that. Your relationship to his brothers was so strong, sometimes he shamefully became jealous. They say when you marry someone, you also marry into the family and you seemed to take that to heart. You wouldn't say kill them. He just hit his head too hard. 

“What?” he asked, hoping you'd say something like “I didn't say anything. Are you ok?”, but you didn't. 

“Kill them” you repeated. 

Now he knew he wasn't making this up. He turned to face you and pushed you away from him, and based on how your face bunched up for a second, you weren't pleased. 

“They hit their heads hard Bi-Han. They'll wake soon but for now, they're out. Kill them and end this. Do you think Kuai Liang would've spared your life?”. 

Yes. 

Kuai Liang could've killed him inside, but instead he just knocked him down and even now, Bi-Han had no doubt in his heart that although he was angry, he wouldn't kill him. Bi-Han didn't want to kill Kuai Liang either. He could've stabbed his brother in a vital place but no. He just gave him a scar. Maybe they were both fools trying to hold onto hope for the other. If that was the case, Bi-Han would gladly become a Queen's jester to show how much of a fool he was if it meant holding onto him. And although he wasn't the fondest of Tomas, he was still a good ally (even if he wouldn't say it out loud). 

“I'll imprison them until they come to their senses. I won't kill my brothers”

You scoffed, “you call Tomas your brother when he's passed out and can't hear you?”. He didn't understand your annoyance at the time. In his gut, something was screaming at him “take them out! This was all a trick and you fell for it! Redeem your name and take them out!”.  But that couldn't be true. You, the love of his life, couldn't be some master manipulator that planned for this. 

Bi-Han looked back everyday and wondered why he couldn't just listen to his gut. 

Your fingers no longer felt soft as they touched his face. They just felt cold. 

“My love” you said in your typical soft tone, “imprisonment won't work on them. You are the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei and these two are traitors. They'll escape your prison and they'll make it their mission to take you down. You don't want that”. 

You were right. He didn't want that. 

But he didn't wanna kill them either. 

He looked over at their bodies, still laid on the hard ground and he hoped that something inside him would spark and killing them could suddenly feel easy. 

It never did though and you seemed to sense it. 

You made him look at you and even though he desperately wanted to feel comforted by you, your eyes seemed so distant and loveless. A flick had switched and he had no idea how or why. 

“You don't need them. Tomas is a false Lin Kuei, taken in due to pity. Kuai Liang can't face the truth about your father. Neither of them will ever understand you like I do. You only need me and your clan. Together… together we can be unstoppable. You just have to do this final thing”. 

He looked back over at them. 

“Do it Bi-Han” he coached himself, “Just do it. You let your father die. Why is this any different?”

His father was a grown man too far gone to see vision. Tomas and Kuai Liang just needed to listen to reason. 

“No” he said firmly.

The anger that he saw flash earlier set on your face, and this time you didn't feel the need to fix your expression. 

“No?”

“No”

He could see that infuriated you. 

“I've grown somewhat attached to you, so for your sake…” he could hear movement behind him, “I'll make it quick”. 

Bi-Han realized what was happening all too late. 

Your body broke down into thousands of flies and knocked Bi-Han onto his back. He looked over just in time to see Tomas just getting to his feet when your flies flew into his body, going straight through his chest and bringing him into the air as screams of agony filled the space. Just as quickly as it began, it ended and Tomas’ body fell down onto the concrete, his bones audibly cracking. 

The two brothers jumped to their feet and stood back to back. Bi-Han could practically hear his own heartbeat in his ears, but besides that he heard his brother's attempts to slow his own breathing. As his older brother he wanted to tell him it'd all be ok, even if his own heart was racing. 

“I didn't want this!” he said to both you and his brother. He wasn't sure if they'd make it, and if they didn't, he didn't want them to die with this false idea that he planned this all. 

You didn't care. 

Flies swarmed around him and Kuai Liang, the force of it ripping pieces of their skin and buzzing filling his ears. The two used their powers at the same time, Bi-Han freezing the flies on his side and Kuai Liang burning his. 

The buzzing stopped finally. 

His heart continued thumping hard in his chest and his injuries started to burn, making him wince. 

“You knew nothing of this?” Kuai Liang asked after some time had passed. They both had been standing there in silence, trying to avoid talking about the obvious and looking at the corpse. 

“No” he answered as he finally looked at his younger brother. “I didn't know this would happen”

“How didn't you know? What did you think would happen?” Kuai Liang said accusatorially. What did he think would happen? Anything but that. 

“I thought you'd listen to reason! The Lin Kuei have been idle for too long and waiting at Liu Kang's feet like dogs!” 

Kuai Liang went to say something but he was interrupted by something Bi-Han couldn't see. His hand gripped at his chest and his breathing became heavier. 

“Kuai Liang?” Bi-Han asked, his voice filled with worry. Kuai Liang started to look sick and he couldn't figure out why. 

Then Bi-Han saw something that continued to haunt his nightmares. An imagine he saw whenever he closed his eyes. What he imagined he'd see if he was put in his own personal hell. 

He heard the buzzing again and Kuai Liang’s blood splattered all over him as you burst from his body. 

You tsked. “Those pesky cuts”, a fly flew out one of Bi-Han’s cuts and found its way to your body, blending in with your skin. “Anything can get in them”. 

You looked so pleased and satisfied, like you hadn't done something absolutely horrific. Why?! Why would you do that?! How could you do something so monstrous?! Bi-Han was no saint, but what you did to Kuai Liang and Tomas… it was torture. 

“Don’t look at me like that Bi-Han. You were just too easy” he wasn't sure if your voice was full of sympathy or pity. There's a difference but it hardly mattered. “I'll be in touch”. 

He wanted to kill you. He wanted to rip you apart slowly and have your screams fill his ears, and for your blood to soak his hands, but you were gone just as fast as you were there. 

His younger brother's blood stuck to him and soaked through his uniform when he dropped to his knees. He wanted to grab at Kuai Liang and shake him awake, like he was just napping, but there was nothing to grab. There were only bits and pieces of flesh and organs that he couldn’t quite place sprawled out across the ground. 

“Gēgē! Look what I found!” Kuai Liang called as he ran towards Bi-Han with his hands cupped like he was holding water. Bi-Han finally saw what got his younger brother so excited when he got close enough; a little ladybug. 

“I told him to leave it alone” Tomas said in a huff. They were children and there was a good chance Tomas and Kuai Liang were playing around before the ladybug was spotted. That, or Kuai Liang made Tomas chase him for a bit before he ran to Bi-Han. 

“Ladybugs are good luck, right? Maybe it'll grant us a wish!”. Kuai Liang was so small, with cheeks plump and red and a smile wide and full of mischief. Kuai Liang calmed down when he got older, but as a child, he was always in something he shouldn't have been. His long hair was dirty more days than it wasn't. Proof of how hard he played during the day. He was banned from ever wearing the color white because of how dirty he got. 

“A ladybug can't grant you a wish” Bi-Han said dismissively. He was the exact opposite of his brother, and tired quickly. Tomas with all his bottled up energy (even if a lot of it was nervous energy) could keep up with him just fine. 

The wind blew and it must've carried a few critters, because a fly landed on Bi-Han’s shoulder. He swatted at it and Kuai Liang snickered, 

“I like my ladybug way more than your fly”

“Yeah?” The older boy asked with a raised brow. He grabbed the dead fly and without warning, he ran towards the two. To all their credit, the two were extremely fast and managed to stay together and on their feet. If Tomas hadn't looked behind him, and if there hadn't been an exposed tree root, he wouldn't have fell down. 

Tomas sniffed and Bi-Han knew he had to start doing his older brother duties. 

“Let me see” he tossed the fly to the side and knelt in front of Tomas. The boy turned, revealing two knees covered in cuts and blood and when Bi-Han looked at his face, his eyes were red but he did not cry. That was typical for Tomas. He always tried to act tougher than he was. 

“I didn't fall because I had my ladybug! See!”. Bi-Han rolled his eyes and took Tomas into his arms, 

“Yeah I see”. 

Tomas grumbled the entire time. Whatever pain he felt in his knees was nothing compared to the pain he felt to his pride. His grumbling only stopped after Bi-Han and Kuai Liang’s mother patched up his knees, but it seemed that now it was the oldest boy's turn to grumble. 

“Bi-Han” her voice reminded him of how beautiful pouring honey looked. She sat beside him on the floor and move strands of his hair out of his face. “You're slouching”. 

He fixed his posture and apologized quietly, instead of his typical response “no I'm not!”. 

Her fingers delicately touched his chin and moved his face to look at her, “what's wrong my sweet boy?”. 

“It's stupid”

“Nonsense. Whatever you feel is valid”. 

He looked over at his brothers, the ladybug incident long behind them based on their laughs. Tomas was laying on the couch with his knees still bandaged while Kuai Liang did an overdramatic replay of his fall. 

“I could've stopped him from falling. I should have”. 

“Kids fall all the time Bi-Han. It's ok”

“But I caused his fall. If I hadn't been chasing them with that stupid fly, no one would've been hurt. You and father tell me to be responsible as the oldest and as the soon to be Grandmaster, but that wasn't responsible at all”. Bi-Han debated how good of a Grandmaster he'd be everyday. It wasn't a small thing like “hey here's the car!”. He'd be in charge of a group of people. The clan's flaws would reveal his flaws, they'd look to him for guidance, he'd have to have this strong persona all the time and could never complain. Sure, he didn't agree with everything his father did, but he carried the weight effortlessly. He wasn't sure how he'd do that. 

“You're an interesting person Bi-Han. One moment you're upset about Tomas joining us, and the next you're caring about his injuries”. He knew she was trying to joke, but he wasn't in a laughing mood, so he didn't respond. 

“My sweet boy”, her hand caressed his face, “a good Grandmaster can try and prevent falls as much as he likes. A great Grandmaster knows how to be there for his people when those falls happen. Don't sulk. Join your brothers and laugh with them”. 

“What if I mess up in the future? Badly?”. A sympathetic smile spread across her face. 

“Everyone messes up. But there's nothing you can do that can't be fixed. As long as you're with your brothers, someone will always be there to pick one of you up when you fall. Just stay close to each other”. 

Laughter erupted from where his brothers were, and he looked back over at them. 

“You looked just like that when you fell!” Kuai Liang waved Bi-Han over, “come on gēgē!”. 

Regret is a sickening drug that clings to you like glue. The force of it squeezes you until the air is knocked out of your lungs and until you fall limp in its clutches. Bi-Han isn't sure how long he stayed knelt on the ground and covered in blood, but it was long enough for him to be found by Liu Kang and thrown into imprisonment. 

And as he sat there in his makeshift cell, out the corner of his eye he saw a ladybug crawling through the cracks. He couldn't help but let out a laugh. The laugh was joyless and full of nothing but sorrow. It was one of those laughs that quickly turned into tears and small sobs. The kind of laugh you let out when you lost everything and when you felt like a fool. 

The war for timelines raged on around him, yet somehow through the noise he heard the familiar buzz of flies approaching. 

He hoped that this timeline was destroyed and that somehow he was reunited with his family and they found it in their hearts to forgive him. 

He hoped in the other timelines he made better choices and either got his goal without bloodshed, or completely abandoned it. Anything but what happened. 

Such a pity hope was as useless as pouring water into a river. 

Such a pity he’d live with his regret for years to come.

Lowkey I didn’t have to add the reader betrayal part and it could’ve focused on the actual kanon but dead brothers is fun so ya know-

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang #kuai liang mk1 #tomas vrbada smoke #bi han mk1 #subzero mk1 #bi Han angst #subzero angst #kuai liang angst #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada angst #mk1 angst #lin kuei brothers #mortal kombat angst

[alina-awen-writes]

Floyd x GN!Reader, Soulmate AU

Prompt: Soulmates can’t make each other feel pain

Today was as normal as NRC could get. Y/n had spent most of the day watching Grimm, Ace, and Deuce try to avoid studying, helped Ruggie drag Leona to class, and was even able to avoid Crowley asking for more favors.

Now that history class was over, it was time to take the long trek back to Ramshackle. Hopefully this time they’d be able to make it home before sunset. Since the dorm has been abandoned, the road wasn’t well lit and was honestly pretty creepy to walk alone.

As Y/N passed through the main walkway, they heard a familiar laugh, followed by someone asking for more time. Not being able to control their curiosity, they poked their head around the shrubs. After seeing the two near-identical mops of blue hair, with a random student sandwiched between, it was easy to realize what happened.

While Azul was doing better about his contracts, he insisted his restaurant and lounge needed to be staffed in some way. Now instead of placing restrictions on students’ powers in exchange for deals, they would agree to ‘volunteer’.

No clue why this student thought they’d be able to hide and run from the twin eels though. Y/N knew better than anyone that when those two had their eyes set on something or someone, they’d end up getting it.

As the three slowly got closer to the hiding spot, Y/N moved next to the nearest statue. Silently hoping that they’d be able to hide well enough and stay out of sight, particularly Floyd’s.

Y/N had no clue why that eel gained an obsession with squeezing them. Originally it seemed to just be Floyd's form of cruel and unusual entertainment, but now it was on another level. Each time they tan into each other, Floyd would chase Y/N around until something else came up. Until it was time for Azul ordering him to leave, classes started, or Y/N was just lucky at finding a good hiding spot, Floyd stopped for nothing.

Now that the trio was directly in front of the statue, Y/N couldn't help but hold their breath, scared that even the smallest noise would draw attention. Apparently hopeful thinking jinxed them, because right as they were about to exit the walkway, Grimm came bustling in yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Hey, Y/N! Whatcha doing behind the statues? Oh! Is there a hidden can of tuna back there?” Yelled the blue ball of fur as he hurried over.

As soon as Floyd heard the name and saw where Grimm ran to, he shoved the escapee into Jade’s arms and rushed right over.

“There’s my favorite Shrimpy! Why’d you hide from me?” He excalimed while leaning over and showing his usual big grin.

“Oh, well…I just saw the both of you were busy and figured it would be best to leave you be. Can’t have you be late when working for Azul!” Y/N stated with a nervous chuckle, still hoping they’d be able to escape without being used as a living stress ball.

“Speaking of which, man! Look at the time! Grimm and I have a lot to study and need to get back to the dorm. Nice seeing you, talk to you later!” Trying to end the conversation on that note, Y/N grabbed their furry companion and went to run past Floyd to safety.

Unfortunately, the universe continued to work against them. Their foot caught on one of the shrubs roots and all they saw was the ground getting closer. Right before impact though, everything stopped. Quickly realizing that Floyd wrapped his hand around their waist and was the only thing keeping them up. With this realization, Y/N felt their face slowly getting warmer with each second.

“Now, now Shrimpy! Gotta be careful and watch where you step. Could’ve squashed your little friend here.” Floyd said with a smile as he grabbed Grim by the collar and moved him out of reach. Grim wasn’t one to stick around when things were going south, so he started running as soon as he could. All Y/N could hear was him yelling something about meeting up at Ramshackle.

Before they could think of a way to get out of Floyd’s arms, he started to speak. “Well Shrimpy, guess you owe me now since I saved you and your little pet. Good news is I already know what I want!”, each word made his usual grin get bigger and bigger, only making Y/N’s stomach sink lower and lower.

While Floyd had never been able to ‘squeeze’ them yet, he kept saying how he wanted to. Normally, a tight hug wouldn’t be a big concern, but with how the students who’ve been through it have complained about backaches and rumors of a few broken arms, Y/N was pretty much terrified of what they knew was coming.

With their eyes squeezed shut and hoping for a quick recovery, Y/N just hoped that Floyd would be a little reasonable and try not to break any bones. However, even though the hug felt a little tighter than necessary, it didn't hurt.

After another minute of the hug, Y/N finally worked up enough courage to talk, "Um, Floyd? I think the squeeze is done now. Could you put me down?", they asked with a small smile. Hoping that asking nicely would help.

Unfortunately, Floyd seemed far too happy as is and just shook his head in response, "No way Shrimpy! You're the first one to like being squeezed. If anything, makes me think I should squeeze you even tighter." He stated blankly.

This argument would’ve continued for awhile, if it weren’t for Jade walking up. Y/N realized that they’d been so wrapped up in dealing with Floyd, that Jade had been able to take the student to Octavinelle and come back.

“Now Floyd, you know not to play too hard with your toys. Might be best to put Y/N down before you cause bruising.” Jade said with his usual fake smile

However, instead of listening to his brother and letting Y/N go, Floyd just held on even tighter. “But Jade, Shrimpy doesn’t mind it! If they did, they’d be like all the other fishies and yell for help!”

That comment made Jade reanalyze exactly what was going on, and once he pieced it together he let his rare genuine smile come to show.

"Well, it looks like I have wonderful news for our next phone call with Mom and Dad. They'll be so happy to hear about how one of us finally found their soulmate." Jade stated while eyeing Y/N with a half joking and half serious look, before turning around and walking away.

"Wait, soulmate? That's actually a thing? Jade come back here and explain!" Y/N yelled out as Jade disappeared into the building once more.

"Awww, don't worry Shrimpy! I'll take good care of ya!" Floyd stated with a happy sigh, back to squeezing his new found soulmate and loving how they only sighed and accepted the hug.

-———————The End—————————

#twisted wonderland x reader #floyd x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twst x reader #floyd #twst floyd #disney twst #soulmate au

[mushies-stories]

Blackmail- pt1

Eren Yeager X FReader

part two

Rating: 18+ kids go home!

Summary: Eren was your high school bully who secretly wanted you but couldn't admit it to himself. that was until he found you at his collage and something in him reignited. coming up with a plan, he won't tell your friends you're embarrassing high school stories if agree to a special arrangement he swears you'll both enjoy.

Warnings: Smut, oral (m reviving) manipulative Eren, Yandere themed Eren, dirty talk

word count: 2753

Smut under the cut

It was three days ago, four months into the year, that Eren noticed you walking around the cafeteria on the college campus. He almost looked right past you but a charm on your bag stopped him. 

A small black cat charm he recognized instantly. He saw it on the bag you rested on the back of your chair everyday in math. 

You looked different, hair shorter and less in your face. You had finally grown into your body and bumped up in all the right places. Eren's eyes scanned over your ass while you walked to meet up with another girl and a guy. Your smile was brighter and you looked happy, less shy and scared of everyone. He smirked to himself. You might have gotten hot but he remembers you, how scared you were of him in highschool. He had the best time pushing your buttons and messing with you just to see your face red and tears threatening to fall down your weepy face. 

Truthfully Eren knew he had a thing for you, a shy innocent girl who was embarrassed at the smallest remark from him. He never pursued you in school, thinking it was just a puppy crush on a highschool girl and then you all went off to college or started working. 

That was until he saw the guy you were with wrap his arm your shoulder, squeezing you against his side while you giggled and blushed like an idiot. Eren noticed how intense the urge to rearrange the guy's face felt. It was a deep, very dark feeling of want when his eyes looked at you. 

Maybe that crush wasn't just a crush he thought. He let out a quiet huff and thought no way, he just felt familiar with you since you both ended up in a school so far from home. Disregarding everything he made his way to the exit right past your little trio. He couldn't help a glimpse to see you upclose on his way by. When his eyes traveled to your face you were already looking at him, face still and just on the brink of shock. He continued his striding, a smirk breaking out on his face as he left the building. Your face, the way your body stiffened when you saw him, he loved it and it was all he could think about for days. 

He spent his free time between classes watching you, seeing that the guy wasn't your boyfriend but he clearly was working on it. You spent a lot of time in the library and you hadn't gone out to a single party. Not surprising, the one time he saw you drunk you had a panic attack and hid in the bathroom until no one could see you run out and out of the house, everyone except for himself who seemed to have a 6th sense when i came to you. 

The more he watched you, the more he felt the need for you. His cock was hard, everything with thoughts of you, your sweet ass and pretty lips. As the days dragged on and the nights of fisting his hand left him feeling more and more needy for you he couldn't hold it in anymore, he wanted you, needed to have you close to him. He wanted to hear you moan and cry his name, feel his cock inside of you and he had to before that other guy beat him to it. You were going to be his, one way or another.

The past few days you had been in a panic. Eren Yeager, your highschool tormentor was here, at your school halfway across the country. You layed in bed replaying all the moments he made you cry or hide until the end of the day just so no one would see your tear stained cheeks.

You had almost convinced yourself it was just a trick of lighting, his devious smirk crossing your path that day since you hadn't seen him since. At this point you were ready to give in to the completely believable delusion. 

Eren had other plans however. He waited while you studied in the library. With only an hour left the sun was setting and most of the other students had left, he made his way inside and took to the shelves and began his search for you. He found you not in the row of round tables in the middle of the room but at a small half as big table pushed against a wall behind a group of shelves. The same black cat charm on your bag that sat on the ground next to your table.

You had headphones in and were completely focused on your paper as he approached. You didn't notice him until he pulled on the wires of your head phones and they fell out onto the table in front of you. Your head snapped and in a second you were frozen. It was him, again. 

He smiled sweetly down at you, like he was saying ‘hello buddy’ instead of ‘remember me? Your worst nightmare?’. “Y/N? That's you right?” he asked in a friendly tone. 

You couldn't manage to get words out, the shock of Eren appearing out of nowhere, here at school and this late in the library of all times. You just nodded, dumbfounded as you stared at him. 

His smile cracked at the corner, like he was trying not to smirk. “You seem tense? I hope I don't make you nervous.” he said but didn't sound that concerned as he sat on the edge of the table next to you so he could lean down closer to look you in the eyes. “Hey, im looking for some friends, do you know anyone cool around here?” He completely turned the conversation around. 

You still panic however because what could you tell him? You had friends, but if he met them he would tell them all your embarrassing stories and you'd have to relive highschool all over again. You shook your head no in responde, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“That so? He said.

Again you nodded, avoiding his eyes. 

He snorted a laugh. “You don't want me to meet that hot blond and big guy do you?”

Your head once again snapped to look at him. “It's not.. They aren't really.. It’s..” you stumbled over your words, unsure of how to save yourself from this conversation. 

Eren hummed in response. “You don't want them to meet me.” he stated. 

You let out a soft sigh and looked almost guilty. “No, not really.” you confessed. 

Eren nodded his head in understanding. “I can agree that's fair. I did tease you a lot in school but to be fair, you did always make the cutest face.” he said smirking. You couldn't handle him, every word that came out of his mouth made you red and nervous. “I'll give you two choices then.” he said. 

You brows furrowed, what did he mean? 

His eyes were fixed on you, pinning you in place. “You can suck my cock right here, or I'll introduce myself to your new friends.”

His words nearly knocked the wind out of you. “What?’ you asked.

A sent you another sweet smile before it turned dark and devious. “Babygirl, I have wanted to feel your sweet lips on my cock forever, you can do that for me can't you?” His hand came to rest on his crotch, your eyes flickered to his movement and noticed there was already a bulge in his tight pants.

You didn't know what to do, it's not like you were how to… but people knowing all of your most embarrassing stories was not something you wanted to deal with for the rest of the time you were here, that would be unbearable. 

Sitting on the edge of the table, one arm behind him holding himself up he smirked down at you while the other rubbed his bulge through his tight pants. “Swallow my cum like the good girl I know you are and no one has to even know we know each other.” he shrugged his shoulders.

Your face was on fire, your eyes darting from his lust filled gaze to his hand on his cock that was only growing by the second. You gulped and shifted in your seat a little to the side, facing him as he leaned against the table. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, not wanting to voice out your choice.

Clicking his tongue he brought his other hand to brush against your rosy cheek. “Tell me Babygirl, what do you choose?” he encouraged, still smirking. 

You looked up at him through your lashes, too embarrassed to keep direct eye contact as you struggled to say the words. “Your c…cum pl-ease.” you stuttered out.

Eren let out a low groan as he undid his jeans. “Fuck Babygirl, saying please for me already?” he cooed, pulling his pants down his hips just enough to let his cock spring free. Your eyes widened at the sight, he was big, even that you understood. “Ever sucked one before?” he asked, amused at your reaction. You responded with a small shake of your head, eyes focused on his stiff dick right in front of you. “Suck, watch your teeth and take me as far as you can.” he said, bringing one of your hands to the base of his cock. “I’ll let you get started.” he winked.

your hand gripped the base of his cock in a feather light touch. You leaned over in the chair and liked the tip. Eren's eyes were fixed on everything you did as you explored his cock. He hissed when you took his swollen tip between your lips and sucked softly. His hands gripped the edge of the table to keep from pushing your head down his cock in one trust. You slowly began bobbing your head, taking more of him in each time. 

Soon you had a steady rythome going and you were getting comfortable sucking him a little harder, focusing on the tip as you popped off just to slide him into your mouth again. You don't know what came over you but you liked this, liked his cock. The taste of his precum and the quiet breathy grunts he let out above you were sending shivered through you. Eren Yeager was using you, using your mouth for his own pleasure and you could feel a damp spot forming between your legs. 

You both began to pant, you losing breath to his cock stuffed in your mouth and him to you, your sweet wet hole and tongue that grazed along the bottom of his girth. You felt so good he wondered why he never did this before, never just took you like he was now. “Fuck okay, baby i need you to take it all.” he grunted out, hand coming to rest in your hair on the side of your head. 

You looked up at him, a brow raised. You sank back down his cock, confused at what he ment.

He groaned and chuckled softly. “Almost baby.” he said, bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you off of him with a pop. “Here, get on your knees.” he ordered.

You watched his eyes as you slowly sank to the ground in front of him. His eyes never left yours and the smirk on his face grew as his hold in your hair stayed firm and kept you in place. He brought his dick to your lips, nudging slowly into your warm mouth with a soft grunt. 

You hands came up to hold into the fabric of his pants as you liked and sucked what he gave you. “Now, breathe and be good for me baby.” he encouraged with sweet words. 

You nodded as he hand gave some slack, allowing you to go back to bobbing your head, taking him in deep but not deep enough. The pressure on the back of your head came back, pushing you down further and further until you were gagging on his cock. Tears began to prick the corners of your eyes and Eren groaned low at the sight. He loved your tears, just for him you were so beautiful.

His cock twitched as it started to hit the back of your throat and you choked around him. He grounded, hunched over as he pushed you down and back up just enough to keep himself mostly in your slick mouth. “Fuuck, fuck baby so good.” he was losing it fast, your sobs around his cock as you struggled  to grip his pants for stability. “Gonna cum baby, you're gonna swallow my whole load okay?” he asked, looking down at your now tear stained face.

You gasped around his cock as he brought you back up enough just for air before slamming your head back down into his cock. His balls switched as he came with a breathy groan, rutting his cock into your mouth. “So good, so good baby fuck.” 

He pulled your head back and watched his cock fall out of your limp mouth. What was left of his cum coating your tongue before you swallowed the rest. He smiled and brought you to stand in front of him, guiding you with the hand now cradling the back of your head. 

You looked up at him, still catching your breath and eyes half lidded. “Was that good enough? You won't tell them anything?” you asked, needed him to confirm for you. 

He brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, the other hand coming to wrap around your waist and pull you against him. His soft cock rests against your pussy under your skirt. “Tomorrow, i won't tell them tomorrow.” he agrees, with a short nod of his head.

You pushed against his chest in frustration. “You said if I took your cum then you wouldn't!” you said rather loudly, looking embarrassed after your outburst. 

Eren smiled and nodded, pulling you closer now with both arms wrapped around your back, one hanging dangerously close to the bend of your ass. “I know I know but…” he trailed off, looking down at you as his hand lowered and swiped to cup one cheek in his hand. You could feel the cool air travel up your skirt as it got bundled up in his grip. Your breath hitched and you let out a quiet gasp. “You make the cutest noises and faces, I want to see it in pleasure even more.” he admitted cheekily. 

You shook your head, trying to ignore the hand that was kneading at your ass. “But you said Eren, you liar.” you complained, almost moaning when he gripped your ass enough to pull your hips along his cock that was still between your bodies. “You can't do whatever you want you know.” you tried to argue. 

He clicked his tongue and shook his head down at you. “Oh sweet girl you're so right, but I can talk to whoever I want and that includes your new friends.” he teased, hands guiding your hips to grind against him. You held back a moan with a shaky breath. “Or we can keep this little arrangement and both get something we want.” he offered, rolling his hips against yours. 

You choked back the moan and nodded. “Fine, fine, but the library is closing so that's it for tonight okay?” you pleaded.

Eren chucked and drew his arms back, releasing you. You stepped back and avoided taking another look at his cock as he stuffed it back into his boxers and zipped his pants back up. He took a step in front of you and leaned down to kiss the side of your head. “Until next time Babygirl.” he whispered in your ear before leaving you alone once again in your quiet spot in the library to collect yourself. 

You could feel your slick coating the side of your tights and your knees felt weak. You sat a moment in disbelief that your childhood bully was here, blackmailing you and making you suck his dick. What amazed you even more was how much you enjoyed it, his praises and groans for you made you hot, needy and grinding against him only made you crave something more.

That night you and Eren both slide your hands between your legs and moan into your pillows for each other's touch.

to be continued...

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