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dixons-sunshine · 3 days

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I Never Lived For The Applause | Daryl Dixon x Former!Celebrity!Fem!Reader

Summary: Before the world quite literally ended, you were a famously known singer. However, your celebrity status didn't do you much good in the apocalypse, despite most people in your group giving you privileges that you didn't want. Thankfully, a certain redneck archer treated you like a normal person, unwillingly becoming the guy who caught your attention.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: The quarry; the farm; the prison.

Warnings: Swearing, usual TWD warnings, suggestive themes.

Word count: 3.9k.

A/n: Okay but the former!celebrity!reader x Daryl was such a unique idea that an anon requested! I never would've thought about that on my own. I thought that this idea would be great combined with a few other requests, and this was born. There's a few time jumps and this is honestly not the best. I scrapped over 1500 words and this is all over the place, and it was supposed to be smut, and I don't really like this, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Before the apocalypse came to be, you were a famous singer and songwriter. You had multiple hit singles that made the charts and your concerts always sold out. It seemed like wherever you would turn, there would be someone there who would want an autograph or a picture. It seemed like you could never escape the spotlight.

Not even now, when the dead started rising and the world came to an end.

“Amy, I told you, I'm fine. I don't want your food. You need it more than I do.”

Amy shook her head defiantly, practically shoving the paper plate into your hands. “I insist. You're my idol, and I'll be damned if I let my idol go hungry when I have food I can give her.”

You sighed and reluctantly accepted the plate. “This is unnecessary. I already had my share, sweetheart. You don't have to give me yours when you also have to eat.”

“I'm fine. Rather me than you.”

Before you could protest, Andrea called Amy's name. Amy gave you an apologetic smile and bid you farewell, walking over to her sister and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sighed and turned around, heading over to the tent you shared with your daughter. You opened the flap and stepped inside, seeing your twelve year old daughter, Nicolette, busy sketching in her sketchbook.

She looked up when she heard you step inside, sending you a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Nic,” you greeted her, sitting down on your cot opposite hers. “Why aren't you outside with the other kids?”

Nicolette shook her head, closing her sketchbook and sitting up in her cot. “Most of them treat me funny. They keep asking me if I can sing or if I can write songs, and if I got free stuff because you were famous. Only Carl and Sophia treat me like I'm a normal kid, but they're with their mom's right now.”

You sighed, guilt gnawing at you from the inside. Never once did you regret having your daughter, but sometimes you regretted having to raise her while you were in the spotlight. The paparazzi were relentless, and your daughter more often than not had to pay the price for that. It was unfair, and you wished that you could've just faded from the spotlight to raise your daughter in peace.

“I'm sorry, baby. If I knew back then what my fame could do to you, I never would have signed on with that record label. I wish I could take it back.”

Nicolette shook her head. She got up from her cot and sat down next to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around her, placing a tender kiss on her head.

“It's not your fault, Mom. I don't blame you. You shouldn't, either.”

You shook your head. “That's easier said than done,” you replied, before adopting a more lighthearted tone. “But let's not talk about that. I've got some more food for you if you're hungry.”

Nicolette smiled at you and nodded eagerly. “I'm starving. Thanks, Mom.”

You smiled at her. However, before you could respond, a ruckus could be heard outside your tent. Both yours and your daughter's heads snapped in the direction of the two voices, instantly going quiet to hear what was happening.

“M'tellin ya, man. S'a fuckin' waste of time. We should jus' cut our losses here and scram. Take a few guns and food fer the road.”

“Merle, fer the last fuckin' time, we can't leave righ' now. It's too dangerous. We should wait 'til the heat dies down 'fore we go.”

“Wha' m'hearin' s'tha' yer a pussy. Wha's the matter, Darylina? Scared the geeks will get ya? 'Cause yer too incompetent to handle 'em?”

“Fuck off, Merle! It ain't like tha'. I jus' dun' wanna risk our lives if we dun' need to.”

“Whatever, man. M'goin' back to the tent.”

The man who's name you had learnt to be Merle left, his retreating footsteps growing fainter until you couldn't hear them anymore. However, you could clearly see the silhouette of the other man still outside your tent. You could hear him quietly muttering to himself.

Turning to Nicolette, you gently placed the plate with the food—cooked squirrel with some beans—onto her lap and stood up. You turned to her and leaned down to place a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Eat up and get ready for bed. I'll be right back and then we'll continue reading that book.”

Nicolette nodded, and with that, you exited your tent. The man stood with his back to you, but a simple slight twitch of his head in your direction showed that he had heard you. His body stiffened visibly, and you frowned at that.

“Hey. You're Daryl, right?” you asked him, prompting the man to turn around.

However, he didn't meet your gaze, finding great interest in the ground below. He simply grunted his acknowledgement, a slight upwards nudge of his nose confirming your question.

“I'm Y/n. It's nice to officially meet you,” you introduced yourself, extending your hand to his for a handshake. Daryl made no move to shake it, however, making you awkwardly retract your hand. “I, uh, just wanted to say that you were right.”

“Wha'?” Daryl asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowing. He hadn't meant for the question to slip from his lips, trying to just remain quiet until you got the message that he was in no mood to socialise, but he failed.

“That argument you had with your brother. You were right. It's way too dangerous to wander off on your own right now. Personally I feel like you shouldn't be wanting to go at all because it's safer with a group, but that's not my call to make. Just thought I'd let you know that your instincts are right. Don't listen to your brother.”

Daryl was confused by your niceness. He was even more confused by the fact that you agreed with him. He was so used to women taking Merle's side instead of his all the time, so this was something entirely new for him.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he replied awkwardly, nervously chewing on his lower lip.

You smiled at him before nodding. “Okay, well, just wanted to tell you that. Oh, and to ask you not to argue in front of my tent again. I have a twelve year old in there who doesn't need to hear all of that.”

Daryl ducked his head, an embarrassed blush flushing over his face. “Sorry.”

“I guess I can let it slide this time,” you said with a smile. “And thanks for the squirrel. Thanks to you, my daughter doesn't have to go to bed hungry tonight. Never thought we'd have to resort to eating squirrel, but it's not that bad. It's actually kinda delicious. It's way better than—” Realising that you were busy rambling, you shook your head and gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just, thank you.”

Daryl didn't know why, but he felt an unexplainable pull to you. Maybe it was the way you showed him kindness without even knowing him, or maybe it was the fact that you were the only one who seemed to actually appreciate the food he brought back from his hunts, even if it was squirrels. Despite their hunger, everyone else mostly refused to eat anything he brought back if it wasn't deer. Yet there you were, thanking him for bringing back something as mediocre as squirrel.

And it certainly didn't help that he found you absolutely radiant.

“S'nothin',” he finally responded. “M'jus' glad yer lil' girl can eat tonigh'.”

“You're the one who brought back the squirrels?”

At the sound of a small voice, both you and Daryl turned around to face your daughter. Nicolette walked up to your side and beamed brightly up at Daryl, catching him off guard. The other kids in the camp were terrified of him and wouldn't even glance in his direction, yet this kid was not only looking at him, but willingly talking to him.

“Yes, he is,” you confirmed, smiling fondly down at your daughter.

Nicolette looked up at Daryl, realisation dawning on her. “You're the man with the crossbow! And the vest with the angel wings! You're so cool, sir. Do you think I could maybe shoot your crossbow one time? It's okay if you say no, but can I maybe see how you shoot it so that when I get my own crossbow one day, I know how to use it? Or—”

Daryl's lips subconsciously twitched up into a smile. Her rambling was so similar to yours. Like mother, like daughter, he thought to himself as he looked between the two of you. There were over a dozen similarities between you and Nicolette. She looked just like you.

You placed a hand on Nicolette's shoulder, halting her rambling. You turned to Daryl, giving him a smile. “We should probably get ready for bed. Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night, Daryl!” Nicolette greeted him enthusiastically, following you into the tent.

“Night,” he whispered.

“Oh, and by the way, don't be a stranger. I'd love to see more of you.”

Daryl blushed and ducked his head. He hummed, not trusting his voice at that moment in time.

You smiled and finally entered the tent, zipping the tent closed behind you. He stood there for a couple of moments before turning and walking back to his own shared tent with Merle.

Daryl couldn't explain it, but for some reason, in that short conversation, he felt drawn to you. It was unnerving, but felt nice at the same time. And your daughter was downright an angel, your exact copy.

“Wha' were ya doin', sniffin' 'round tha' popstar?” Merle asked when Daryl entered the tent, catching him off guard. Daryl had assumed that Merle would've been passed out by now, high off of whatever drug he was using that night.

“Popstar? Wha' the hell are ya talkin' 'bout?” Daryl questioned, plopping himself down on his cot.

“Tha' woman ya were talkin' to, she was a singer 'fore all this. Real famous, too. Used to see her on TV and in magazine's all the time.”

Daryl's mind swarmed with questions. You were a famous singer? How the hell did you end up there, with a bunch of nobodies? And why had you thanked him for bringing back something as simple as a squirrel? If you were famous, you had probably eaten banquets of the richest, most delicious food out there, yet you enjoyed squirrel? And to top it off, why would you willingly want to hang out with him of all people?

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Daryl, oh my god.”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Daryl slowly sat upright in the bed in the guest bedroom. He looked up and locked eyes with you, seeing the worry written all over your face. You hurriedly sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and gingerly reached out to touch the bandage around his side, careful not to add too much pressure and hurt him.

“M'fine, sunshine. Dun' have to worry 'bout me,” he replied, waving off your concern and gently grabbing your hand to push it away from the bandage.

You scoffed in disbelief and shook your head. “You're my friend, Daryl. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you, and you expect me to not worry?” you asked, bringing your hand up to gently caress his cheek.

Friend. That word reminded Daryl of how you viewed him. It had been two months since your first interaction at the quarry and his affection and attraction to you had only grown stronger. However, it seemed to him like his feelings weren't reciprocated, so he settled on being your friend.

Little did he know that you felt the exact same way. You just didn't know it yet.

“Heard ya punched Andrea fer shootin' me. Any truth to those rumours?” Daryl asked, diverting the attention away from his now pounding heart as your fingers gently pushed his hair back.

You smiled sheepishly. “My hand slipped?” you tried, shrugging your shoulders.

Daryl smirked slightly and shook his head. “Sure. Whatever ya say, sunshine.”

You let out a sigh, reluctantly drawing your hand back from his hair. “She had it coming. We told her not to shoot and she didn't listen, trying to boost her own ego instead. She almost killed you, Daryl. That's not something she should be allowed to get away with, but Rick and Shane aren't gonna do anything, so I took matters into my own hands.”

Daryl smiled softly. “Not bad fer a popstar.”

You giggled. “Hey, I got into a couple of fights before my career took off. I know my stuff. I know how to shoot a gun, too, but that's a discussion for another day.”

Daryl chuckled and nodded. He shifted back against the headboard and gazed at you, simply admiring your beauty for a moment. It amazed him that a beautiful, kind, caring, smart woman like you would ever wanna be associated with the likes of him. You were perfect and he was, well, him. It didn't make sense, but he dared not to question it.

“Can I ask ya somethin' personal?” he blurted out before he could think about it.

You nodded at him. “Sure.”

“When ya talk 'bout yer career, it sounds like ya hated it. Why'd ya become a singer if ya hated it so much?”

You remained silent for a minute. Daryl feared that he had asked the wrong thing and was about to apologise, but you spoke up.

“I was nineteen when I signed with my first record label. I didn't want to be in the spotlight because singing was more of a hobby to me, but my parents forced me to. Growing up, there wasn't ever really any money around and my parents made it out like it was my fault. They made me feel like I owed them for everything they did for me, and they forced me to sign with that record label. My parents were my managers and all the money I earned for the songs I wrote and sang basically went to them. That went on for a couple of years until I met Nic's father. He was a bass player in a band I was collaborating with. I fell in love way too quickly, jumped into bed with him when he made an advancement and ended up pregnant. The guy didn't want kids and bolted, leaving me a single mom. My parents hated that and basically disowned me.”

“M'sorry to hear tha',” Daryl replied sympathetically. He didn't really know how to respond; he never knew that about you. You chose to keep your life before you had Nicolette private, and he respected that. He had his own demons he preferred to keep quiet.

“It's okay,” you reassured him, shaking your head. “He was an asshole. And I was better off without my parents. I managed to sign with a decent enough record label and the rest was history. I got a ton of backlash from haters for being a single mom. There were even rumours that I had cheated and that's why the guy left me, but that wasn't true. But none of that matters anymore. My reputation doesn't matter anymore. All that matters now is keeping my daughter safe and keeping the people I care about alive. People like you.”

“Ya shouldn't care 'bout me. S'a bad idea.”

“Well, bad idea or not, I care about you. And so does Nic.”

As if being summoned, Nicolette knocked on the door and hesitantly stepped inside. Daryl adjusted the covers over his body and sent her a tight-lipped smile. Nicolette gave him a small smile back but he could clearly tell it was strained. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

“Are you okay?” Nicolette asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if to make herself appear smaller.

“M'fine, kiddo. Dun' worry 'bout me,” he reassured her. “Hershel fixed me righ' up. I'll be outta here in no time.”

Nicolette looked to you for confirmation, and you nodded. “He's right. He'll be fine. Some antibiotics and he'll be up and at it in three days. You'll see.”

“Okay,” she nodded, her eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “I'm glad you're not dead, Daryl.”

Daryl chuckled at the girls forwardness. “M'glad m'not dead, too.”

You smiled at the small interaction between Daryl and Nicolette, your heart swelling with fondness. You stood up from the bed and motioned for Nicolette to follow you.

“C'mon, baby. Let's leave Daryl to get some rest, okay?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could maybe stay?” she asked timidly, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It's just... I wanna stay.”

You looked at Daryl, and he shrugged nonchalantly. Despite his nonchalance, Daryl's heart swelled with fondness. This little girl, who owed him nothing, wanted to stay with him. He couldn't believe it.

“Okay, you can stay for a while. I'll be back later, okay?” you relented.

She nodded and sat down on the chair. You gave Daryl's hand one last squeeze before heading out, sparing one last look at the two. Nicolette was starting to retell some of the events of what her and Carl had gotten up to that day, and Daryl hummed in acknowledgement before looking up and locking eyes with you.

With one last parting smile, you headed out and made your way back to the tents. On your way there, a startling realisation hit you like a ton of bricks, one that would change the way you saw Daryl forever. Despite the fact that he could be snappy at times, and that he was known for being grumpy, he treated you with respect. He didn't care about who you were before the end of the world. He didn't care about your mistakes, about if you were famous or not. That didn't matter to him. He only saw you, the person behind the old tabloids, and he had become close with your daughter. He even took the time out of his day to teach her how to use his crossbow, even if she was a slow learner. And in that moment, you realised something:

You had feelings for him.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Y'know, m'glad Nic didn't have to meet her father. She's better off.”

You turned your head to Daryl, a look of confusion spreading across your features. “I agree with you, but why do you say that? You didn't know the man.”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from you. “Ya said back at Hershel's tha' he never wanted kids. If he had stuck 'round, god knows wha' he would've done to her.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, turning your attention back to the darkness ahead of you. “She is better off.”

The night was relatively quiet, save for the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the prison's fences. Daryl was on watch that night in the guard tower, and you had taken the initiative to join the archer that night. Everyone else had retreated into the prison for the night, leaving only you and Daryl awake.

“So are we gon' tell Nic 'bout us or not?” Daryl broke the silence, taking the last drag from his cigarette before putting it out next to him. “S'been over a month now. She deserves to know.”

Unbidden, flashes of that night a month ago arose in your mind. The feeling of his lips on yours, his hands exploring your body and the way he felt pressed against you. The feeling of your bodies becoming one was one that you wouldn't forget anytime soon, but the one memory you'd hold with you forever was the confession from the man next to you. After the heated, pleasurable moment you'd spent together, feelings were revealed, and you and the archer had unofficially started your relationship. You had both agreed to keep it a secret, but Nicolette was starting to get suspicious about the two of you.

“I'm okay with telling her tomorrow. She deserves to finally have confirmation on her suspicions,” you told him, leaning your head against his shoulder. “She already sees you as her dad, anyways.”

Daryl couldn't argue with that. Flashes of his own arose in his mind. A couple of days ago, he had returned from a run, battered and bruised. He could barely walk and both you and Nicolette were distraught. However, after he was patched up and resting in his cell and you were up in the guard tower for your shift, Nicolette had come to him in tears. He had hugged her tightly to his chest, acutely aware that she was transported back to that day on the farm when he had been shot. That night was the night Nicolette had confirmed that she saw Daryl as a father figure.

“Please don't leave. My mom needs you. I need you. We both need you in our lives. Please, Daryl.”

In that moment, even though she didn't know yet that you and Daryl were together, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live without either of you. You both were his entire world. Nicolette was his little girl. You were his partner, and there was no way he was letting either of you go.

“Dun' worry, Nic. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise ya tha'.”

Shaken from his thoughts by your lips on his exposed shoulder, he turned his head to you, coming face to face with a mischievous smirk. He instantly knew what that smirk meant, and he helped you climb onto his lap.

“But,” you began, pulling his attention back to your previous discussion. “Let's worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, it's just me and you.”

Daryl smirked and attached his lips to yours. You may have been a popstar before the apocalypse, a celebrity living in a mansion, but in that moment, you were simply you. The woman Daryl cared for deeply, the woman Daryl was never gonna let go of.

Because in that moment, you were nothing but his.

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acapelladitty · 16 hours

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ok but,,,, Mr "the" ghoul subbing for his so/ for the first time and he's all unsure and tryna be cocky but he's actually a big softie who loves being taken care of and told what to do 💥

light me up and breathe in

Pairing: Cooper Howard/F!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Summary - After some convincing, Cooper agrees to let you give him a chest massage.

(tw: heavy petting, teasing, cockwarming, threats of violence, cannibalism mention, dirty talk)

Convincing Cooper to let you take care of him was a task better suited for the great thinkers of the world, people who had the patience and the fortitude to deal with his stubborn bullshit as he dodged your every attempt. However, time was always on your side and you weren't convinced if it was the appeal of a massage or the promise that you would stop asking if he relented, but he had eventually given in.

His upper clothing had been shed quickly enough, exposing his bare torso to your greedy eyes. A shapely sight, his body wasn't overly muscular, but clearly held a core strength as it formed a solid expanse - the skin scarred and textured across every visible inch.

Reclined on his chair, his eyes were wary but heated as he watched you clamber onto his lap with a childish eagerness.

"That desperate, huh?"

"Shut up."

Rolling your hands along his chest, the rough texture of his skin left a pleasant tingle in your fingers as you follow the natural contours of his body. Patchy and pitted beyond reason, you map out the ridges with a faint smile and your fascination with his skin didn't go unnoticed.

"You staring at me like that makes me wonder if you're thinking 'bout taking a bite?" Cooper's low voice, dulled by his forced nonchalance, filled the air between you and you refuse to look up and meet his eye as you answer.

"Maybe." You tease, trailing a finger along the column of his neck. "It's about time you had something to worry about so maybe I'll cannibalise some part of you to shut you up for a while."

"If you're gonna wrap those pretty lips around a part of me then I've got some ideas, darlin'."

Gaze flitting across his body as you ignore his suggestion, you settle on his nipples and admire the deep red colour which stands free of his chest. You can imagine him in a better time, picture how dense the chest hair which would have coated him would feel below your fingers. How fun it would be to run your digits across the thick mat and pull at it teasingly, forcing him to shift up and meet your lips with a single tug.

But no.

Hairless.

It really was a cruel world.

Still, there was more than one way to get a reaction and you clamp your thumbs and forefingers around his nipples as you pinch the nubs with malicious intent.

"Maybe I'll focus on these. They're very sensitive."

A strangled gasp escapes him but he covers it quickly by curving his thick hands around the swell of your ass.

"True that, sweetie, but if you tear 'em off I'll be taking yours to replace them. With my teeth, mind."

Pulling at the nubs even more roughly, the discomfort forces a warning rumble from his throat as he arches his back against the chair.

"Not how this works, Coop. You have to say please if you want me to stop."

Scowling, he relents regardless, having alresdy agreed to the terms of the game. "Please."

"That's better, handsome."

Hands feeling dry, you get a move on with your agreement and add a healthy dollop of the unscented lotion which you had stumbled on in an abandoned pharmacy. Its discovery had prompted this little game and you can't hold back your grin as you spread it across his skin - sinking into the intimate contact with a soft sigh.

Tense as hell, Cooper is every inch a coiled serpent ready to strike out. He's subtle with it though; matching your wry comments with his own and visibly attempting to force himself to relax into the earnest touch. For a creature who was wrapped around you like a glove when you fucked, this type of intimate engagement appeared to give him more anxiety than staring death down the barrel of a gun.

"Relax." You soothe, hands running across his collarbone to wrap around his shoulders.

"I am relaxed." He lied.

"Liar." You call him out with a teasing smile. "But if a little massage is so scary for the big, bad bounty hunter then let me make you a bit more comfortable."

Dropping your slickened hand to his groin, you cup his hardened cock through the fabric, wasting no time in opening his fly and releasing him; allowing the girthy length to jut free in the cool air.

"Wow, Mr. Howard," you tease, gripping your hand around his length and stroking along it with a firm grip, "this looks painful. What are we going to do about it?"

"Cruel to play with a man's bone and not give him somewhere to bury it." Cooper rumbled, his hips bucking into your hand as you tighten your fingers around the base of a cock, denying him any further stimulation until he settles. "Might drive a man to do something dangerous, sweetie."

"Oh well in that case." Raising yourself off his lap by planting your feet on the floor, you slip further towards his body and line up his blunted cockhead with your hole - arousal making your lips feels swollen and sensitive as you run his cock along your slickened folds. "Would be a shame to waste it then."

Sinking down on his cock, you drop your head to his neck to hide the discomforting gasp as the familiar stretch of him makes your walls burn with the sudden intrusion. The texture of his cock adds an intensity that makes your legs tremble as it rubs along those sweet spots which make stars fly behind your eyes.

You adjust your hips until you're able to sit flush against his groin, the angle a little awkward but fucking delicious as every slight jostle sparks fresh pleasure. His eyes pin you with a greater ferocity than his cock as his head tilts up to keep line with your gaze.

"Tight as a drum." Cooper growls, the feel of you wrapped around him making his hips move of their own accord as he fucks himself deeper; each small rut leaving your cunt wanting more.

But no.

That wasn't the game.

Slapping a hand to his exposed chest, the skin there still moist from the lotion - you cupped your other hand around the back of his neck and scowl at him with a playful anger.

"Hey! Did I tell you to fuck me?"

Stilling his hips, Cooper curled his lips into a smirk.

"That you did not, darlin'."

"Then stop moving and let me have my fun. You focus on keeping that big ol' gun of yours holstered somewhere I know it likes, and I'll focus on what I want to do."

"You drive a hard bargain, missy." He replies, amusement playing across his harsh features. "But a deal's a deal and, hell, I'm sure there's gonna be a reward of some kind for such agreeable behaviours."

"Keep dreaming, handsome. I'm letting you warm your cock in me. Isn't that enough?"

"From you?" Flashing his teeth with an almost feral grin, Cooper's arm snapped around your waist to pull you flush to his chest as his rough lips brushed your ear. "Never."

Squeezing your cunt around him, the action netting you a muted groan, you push him away and roll your hips as your hands return to his chest.

"Nice try, buddy. But no amount of, admittedly, great cock is going to stop me from rubbing every inch of you."

"Stubborn bitch."

Cooper mutters the words without heat, his hands returning to their original position around your ass as you edge yourself on his cock; determined to explore every inch of him before allowing him to get his rocks off.

"Yours."

#sooo hot want to touch the hiney awoooooooo #fallout #fallout 2024 #cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoul x reader #ghoul x you #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fic #ghoul smut #ghoul fic #walton goggins

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commander-rahrah · 2 days

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I'm excited to read it too! I'm glad you find it interesting! Don't worry about your post because long! Your thoughts are so interesting!

I agree that Astarion would have to come to terms with Reader/Tav's boundaries too since it works both ways! I definitely feel that Astarion would be too lost in drinking from the blood of a sentient creature to notice the signs.

He would feel ashamed when he's aware of their fear yet they still chose to offer despite that might made him feel like he manipulated them like Cazador did to him 😭

What his excuses are if they try to offer in the early days makes sense! He would be too ashamed & terrified to have such a vulnerable conversation with them yet 😞

He would feel safe enough to bring up their fear after he confessed about everything. He would make it clear to them he doesn't want them to suffer by making them do something they don't want to like he did especially after how much they have helped him & how important they are to him 😭

He would respect their decision if they said it's too much for them. He would support everyone's personal choices & autonomies even though the concept is still new to him ��

He would need an explanation if they insist on feeding him regardless of their fear. They would explain that not only do they trust him, they love him more than they fear it 🥹

He would only accept if they establish some ground rules 👍 like he did when it comes to physical intimacy & sex which is healthy for both of them!

I know it's unrelated but thank you for adding this because you described me pretty well 🤣 I would definitely react to even the smallest of cuts so Astarion quickly but gently sucking it & giving a small kiss on it would be a fantastic distraction 😳

You're welcome! Thank YOU for entertaining me & sharing your thoughts! I'm glad you enjoy putting Astarion and Tav/Reader in all these different scenarios too 🤍

Here's my idea that I would love to hear your opinion! Just to let you know this is quite self-indulgent XD How would Astarion react to GN! Reader/Tav actually had suspicions that he's using them but still chose to believe that he's not. So when he confessed he manipulated them, they're even not angry at him.

They're sad for how much & how long he has suffered to be the way he is now, but they're also genuinely hurt that he did take advantage of their trust in him. They don't blame him but they admit it still hurts and wants some time alone to process it.

After leaving them be, they would go to him when they're ready to talk to him. They would tell him how grateful they are that he chose to come clean with them despite knowing how it would be easier for him to keep quiet for it, and thanked him for trusting them enough to be honest with them.

What do you think of it? I'm curious :3

Hi Anon! Sorry for the super late response, I let this one stew for a little while in my brain and the other night I had this dialogue idea and couldn’t resist writing a little scene about it tonight! I hope you enjoy ❤️

I envisioned this scene happens half way through his confession, and then imagined the rest of the conversation about intimacy and boundaries would happen afterwards! It’s about 1100 words, and canonical Astarion backstory warnings apply — trauma, dark thoughts, etc.

.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

“I just — I feel awful." Astarion’s throat worked silently, his eyes glancing down to his boots. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan — seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me. It was easy — instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in." He finally looked up at your face, studying intensely for your reaction.

“I—oh,” You pulled your hand away from him as uncertainty flooded your features. He saw your eyes dart back and forth, but they weren’t studying him. No, you were lost in thought. “Oh.”

Astarion licked his lips, his hands ringing together in front of him nervously. “You have every right to be angry.”

“I’m not angry. I thought we… I don’t know what I thought.”

The rest of what he had planned to say vanished out of his mind. Instead it started to betray him, a cruel voice whispering about how he knew you would react like this. Did he really think it would go well?

His pink mouth hung open as he scrambled for what to say, trying to think of how to make this better. But he’d done enough already, hadn’t he?

You crossed your arms over your body, your cheeks flushing deeply. “I feel a bit like a fool. None of it was real, the whole time?”

“Not the whole time,” He confessed as soft, vulnerable moments with you flashed in his mind. The very moments that made him start to drop the act. “It hasn’t been as of late, but before… in the beginning, up until recently, yes.”

His red eyes followed your throat as it bobbed up and down before flicking back up to your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed, your mouth a sad pout.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Astarion whispered, not daring to move forward.

“I’m thinking… I need a moment.” You admitted, already looking behind you and away from him.

His heart sank, but he nodded. “I— okay. Of course.”

And then you were off, your head down as you stalked away from the edge of the beach and back to the warm glow of camp.

He stood there stunned for a moment, before turning around to stare at the dark, choppy waters in front of him. Hundreds of scenarios began to dance in his mind — what if you went back to the camp to tell the others? Would he be met by pointed blades and blazing spells? He imagined being kicked out, staked, cursed, roasted alive with fireballs. Hand delivered to Cazador as extra punishment for his sins. Anything his twisted broken mind could come up with played like a messed up vision.

Astarion didn’t even try to stop the repetitive dark thoughts. It was what he deserved.

Eventually, the vampire slinked back into the camp some time later — once the sky was inky black and the moon was the only light to illuminate the way back to his tent.

“Hi.”

The sound caused his ears and shoulders to perk up instantly. You were sat in the grass and dirt outside of his tent, your arms wrapped around your knees and pulled to your chest.

“Hi.” Gods, he sounded breathless. But he couldn’t see any weapons or angry barbarians or wizards nearby. That was a good sign, right?

“I wasn’t sure when you’d come back.”

He cocked a brow, “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

A sigh escaped your lips, “Astarion, don’t be dramatic. I asked for time to think — not for you to leave.”

He blinked at your sharp tone, but nodded his head in slight defeat. “You’re right. And you waited for me because—?”

You brushed off your clothes as you stood up to his height, “I would like to finish that conversation, if you’re ready.”

Well, there was no denying the inevitable.

He nodded his head solemnly, stepping forward to open the flap of his tent and inviting you in with a wave of his hand.

The privacy his tent offered was slight, but this late in the night he knew most of his companions would be fast asleep. Quickly lighting a lantern, he joined you on the fabric floor.

His half-dead heart was thundering, the thrumming sound echoing in his pointed ears that he almost missed your quiet voice.

“I understand.”

“What?” His brows furrowed, looking at you with confusion.

“The stories you’ve told me… your scars… I understand why you did it, why you felt the need to do it.” You explained, your voice and eyes tender as you looked at him in the low light. “But you manipulated me, Astarion. You took advantage of me, toyed with me and my emotions to get what you needed. That hurts.”

Astarion’s stomach twisted into a hard knot, “I know.”

“But you also didn’t need to tell me any of this. You could have kept pretending, kept up the charade until we faced Cazador… But you didn’t. Why?”

Now it felt like his stomach was crawling up his torso and into his throat. Gods, what was this feeling? Why did you do this to him. “That’s what I was trying to tell you before. I failed with my plan. It felt apart the moment I realized… that I had fallen for you.” He admitted, but his fluttering heart made more words stumble out of his mouth. “And I know you probably don’t believe me, why would you after everything I just told you. Trust me, nobody feels more stupid about it than I do.”

You cut off his rambling, “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think that’s probably the most honest you’ve been with me since I’ve met you,” You said earnestly. “It would have been a lot easier for you to keep on pretending, wouldn’t it? Pretend I’m just another mark, another means to an end to get through the day.”

“I don’t want easy… I don’t want to just get through the day. Not anymore.” Astarion whispered across the small tent, staring intently at you.

You cocked your head slightly in question, “And what do you want?”

“I want this, I want us — to be real. You deserve something real.”

“So do you, Astarion. You deserve something real.”

Your name escaped his lips as a choked sob as overwhelming wave of emotion settled over him. “I don’t even know what real looks like. How do I give that to you if I—?”

“Do you trust me?”

The vampire nodded through his tears, “Yes.”

“I trust you,” You said softly.

“After everything I’ve done?” He croaked, waving his hands dramatically, “You’d trust a monster—“

You grabbed onto his extended fingers gently, squeezing them. “Yes, even then.”

He looked down at your hands touching, before intertwining his pale fingers with yours carefully. “Maybe you are a fool.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the sound waking up something in him he’d long thought dead. “Maybe, I am. But you fell for me, so what does that make you?”

Astarion’s mouth twitched up until it match your smile, “The luckiest vampire alive.”

#commander-rahrah answers #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #Astarion X reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion x gn!tav

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coffeeshopguest · 1 day

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ahh! thank you so much for writing my gangbang fantasy, absolutely amazing!

i really love sambastian x reader, so it was amazing.

another suggestion is free use farmer x sebastian (or any of the bachelors tbh they’re all hotties) where they are tied up for a whole day and gets overstimulated from being toyed with alllll day

-🐇

ofc! glad you enjoyed, this one was so fun to write! i chose sebastian bc he's my favorite & the one i saw doing this the most. enjoy!

Tied and Used

Word Count: 1826 Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, bondage, fingering, unprotected sex, swearing, vaginal sex, choking, praise kink, plugging, toy usage, free use, similar themes

Sebastian mentioned the idea over breakfast one day, he'd sipped his coffee nervously and tapped on the table as you chewed your food. To the point where you had to ask what was wrong. You knew Sebastian was kinky. You'd had that talk several times over before you were married. If you weren't into it you wouldn't have agreed to be with him which he seemed to forget often - usually not mentioning his own fantasies or interests in turn of just doing vanilla stuff in bed with you. You didn't mind either way but it was tiring seeing him suppress his own interests out of guilt (or maybe just plain old shame and fear).

Upon being asked what was wrong, Sebastian devolved into a mess of blushing and awkwardness. "I wanted...to try something new?" his tone went high pitched, he tapped on the table again, a nervous fidget of his. "It's...a bit far from what I usually ask and I'd..." he sighed, shaking his head. "You know what just forget it-"

"But-?"

"No, no, I don't - it would only really work in winter anyway," he dismissed, waving his hand as he stood up and grabbed his coffee. "I shouldn't have said anything."

You immediately stood too, gently gripping one of his wrists. "Why would it only work in winter?"

Sebastian flushed nervously, shaking his head. "It's uhm, sort of an all day thing," he whispered.

"All day?"

Sebastian hesitated, nodding ever so slightly. "I was thinking...like...rope...and..." he hesitated, trailing off and letting silence occupy the space as he thought of how to put it. "You...tied down all day? Just letting me fuck you, mess with you whenever I want?"

Your heart dropped to your stomach, but not necessarily in a bad way. In the way it does on the drop of a rollercoaster. The exciting kind. "Well...winter is coming up...we could-"

"No! No, I don't wanna...make you uncomfortable."

"It's fine! I want to try it," Sebastian's eyes widened a little and he nodded. A slight look of eagerness overtook his face but he quickly suppressed it.

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

He started simple, the rope tying your wrists up to the headboard, legs tied apart to keep them spread. He examined his work, waited for a moment, then asked "Is that comfortable?"

"It's rope."

"Will it be fine for the whole day?" he answered, voice laced with concern. He quickly went to check how tight the knots were, ensuring he could undo them in a moments notice if you gave him the word. "I can take it off-"

You quickly shook your head, "no, no, they're fine," you assured. "Don't undo them," you added. Sebastian smiled, dipping down to kiss your lips softly. When he pulled back, his eyes trailed down your body. His eyes flickered with the same eagerness you'd seen upon your agreement months ago. "Do I get a safe word?" you teased, his eyes softened and he nodded.

"Of course you get a safe word, what do you take me for?" he kissed your forehead, you noticed him holding back on anything to sexual yet. "You remember we've used them before, right? You remember how to use them, lovely?"

You smirked, nodding, "The concept is fairly simple, love," he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"You're being a bit of a brat," he noted, a hand slid up your body, reaching your throat, "Quite bold of you considering you're tied up," he added softly. You liked this version of him, the nervous Sebastian was cute - the Sebastian who was nervous to take things too far, to seem weird. The Sebastian who wanted you safe and comfortable and who fumbled to even use the word bondage. But this version of Sebastian was different, like a switch in his brain flipped he would switch to an assertive and dominant person - confident. Kinky. "Do you want to choose your safe word, then?"

Nodding pathetically, you felt yourself already getting wet. "Y-yeah..."

His grip was light, not even choking you, just gently holding your throat. "If you can't speak or tap me, I want you to blink at me to tell me you need a break, okay? Two taps if you can, or rapid blinks, can you do that?" you nodded, "Good girl, safe word?"

With an already shut off brain, you could barely come up with a word to give him. Finally, you managed to settle on a basic easy one, "Mango."

He nodded, "Mango," he repeated, assuring you he heard it. He gently kissed your forehead again, "mind staying here alone?" he added. "If you need me, you can call, I'll never go far."

"How often?"

"Between sessions, I'll get you some snacks and water between too, clean you up a little, but I want you to stay tied down...that's part of the fantasy for me..." he explained. "Would that be alright?"

You nodded, and he smiled, already enjoying this. "Good girl," he whispered. Gently, his hand tightened around your throat, cutting off your oxygen for just a moment. You let out a soft groan, and he smiled as he watched your reaction. His other hand slowly moved, cupping your breast. His thumb rolling over your nipple, trying to earn more of a reaction from you. And he got exactly that, a loud noise came out of you. Almost like a whine.

He leaned back, moved his hand down your body and traced for your thighs. He reached up, gently rubbing against your pussy. Your head tilted back, hitting the pillow. "Fuck-" you murmured out. Sebastian smirked, letting one finger glide up to your entrance, his thumb gently rubs your clit for a second before he slides a finger in, causing your back to arch. Your legs move slightly, but the ropes hold them in place.

"Damn, those hold better than I expected," he mumbled, pulling his finger out, it was coated with your juice and he gently licked it off. Leaning back as he examined you. "Don't know what I wanna do first," he said. "I have a whole day..." His finger slid back inside, and he gently began pumping it to gain a reaction. You whimpered out and he watched your face.

You whined as he pulled his finger back out, leaned back, watched your chest rise and fall. "More...more Seb..." he smirked at your whines and slid the finger in, pumping a little before he slowly slid in a second.

"That okay? Doesn't hurt?" he asked softly, waiting for an answer, leaving his fingers in place and waiting for your answer.

You nodded, whimpering pathetically. "It's, it's fine, keep going, please..." You begged. He smiled, immediately beginning to pump his fingers into you. Your fingers dug into the bedsheets and you pleaded for more. He kept going for a while, waiting till you were close, he pulled back, slowly sliding a third finger in. "God...I'm gonna..."

"Go on, baby, go ahead, cum," he encouraged, watching as your body tensed. Walls clenching around his fingers, he slid them out and watched the cum drip down your legs. He gently licked his fingers clean, slid off the bed, kissed your forehead. "Good job, baby, you did so good. I'll be back later."

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It didn't take long for Sebastian to return, he poked his head into the room. He admired the way you laid in the bed, tied down still, he walked in gently kissing your forehead. "Holding up well? Boring on your own? Should I turn the TV on?" his hand gently slid down your body.

"TV when you're gone would be nice," you answered softly. "But right now, I was thinking something else."

Sebastian laughed softly, kissing you softly. "I was too, actually," he stepped around the bed, finding the drawer of his bedside table and opening it. He pulled out some lube, fished for the box of condoms, glanced at you, "would you...mind...?"

You turned your head to him, "mind?"

"Uhm..." he flushed, "I kinda want...to try the plugging today too?"

You smiled, nodding, "that sounds hot, go for it."

"Would you mind? No condom? Filling you? Then, uh..."

"Do it," you answered simply, and that's all it took. He gently unzipped his jeans, took them off, followed by his boxers, he took the lube, squeezing some onto his hand. He slid some across your pussy before moving to rub it on himself. His head fell back slightly and a soft moan escaped him as he jacked himself off as he lubed himself up.

His hands gently squeezed your thighs, he lined himself up. Easily, he slipped in, and you let out a desperate squeak. His head fell back once more as he began to gently thrust. His fingers dug into your thighs as he pumped. You moaned out, eager for more. Gripping onto the sheets as Sebastian rolled himself deeper into you. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, as he repeatedly pulled out and slammed back in. He let out soft grunts of pleasure, barely paying attention to the way you basically writhered for more. He felt the walls clenching and looked down at you.

"That's right, fuck, milk it, c'mon, cum on it," he said, thrusting as he fucked you till you came onto his dick, he thrusted through your orgasam as your walls clenched, his head fell back as he finally let go. He grunted out in relief as his seed shot deep into you. He let himself lean down, kissing your lips before he finally pulled out, he fished out a dildo from the bedside table, and then gently shoved it into your used pussy. You grunted out a little, biting your lip.

He waited, "is that okay? Doesn't feel bad?" he whispered, you shook your head.

"It's...good- leave it, please..."

"God I fucking love when you beg."

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

You began to lose count of how many times Sebastian came in throughout the day, alternating methods of how he used you. He fucked you with the dildo, his fingers, his tongue, he filled you multiple times and plugged you after each time. It felt like heaven. The sun set, and you found yourself sore. When Sebastian entered the room, you debated if you could take it. His eyes wandered your body, and finally he gently leaned down and kissed your forehead. "You're all done baby, I know," he cooed. "I wasn't too much, was I?"

You shook your head, smiling as he kissed you softly down your neck. "Too tired for words? Let me clean you up, baby, you deserve it."

"Mh, love you.."

"I love you too," he answered, kissing your forehead again.

tag list:

comment if you want to be tagged in future Sebastian fics

#stardew valley #stardew valley smut #farmer x sebastian #f!farmer x sebastian #female x sdv sebastian #sdv smut #sdv sebastian x reader #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #female reader x stardew valley #sebastian sdv smut #sebastian stardew valley smut #sebastian sdv x reader

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ch3rriiii-bunn · 3 days

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Muzan with a demon that constantly changes to suit their needs (like if evolution was simple and easy to do). if they needed to get away very fast, they'll sprout wings and fly home. If they need to get something in the water they'll become scaley & fishy and breath water.

Seeing as Muzan hates change and has stated so... What if their s/o was like that?

Shape shifter

Paring: Muzan x Demon!Gender neutral reader

Synopsis: Muzan hates your shape-shifting (to a certain extent because I wanna make it cute)

Content: reader is a shape-shifting demon, mean Muzan, some wholesome moments, soft muzan (a little), reader taking on/turning into animal like forms, my stupid humor, Muzan being a cat person.

Word count: 0.6♡

A/n: AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA OMG. I'm gonna write it in headcanons :3

Muzan. Who hates your shape-shifting at random times. Muzan, you and gyokko heard there was a magic lake that healed humans without any medicated water. You heard the rumors, so it was your job to take Muzan and Gokko there. Muzan was about to order Gyokko to do a search drive in the lake but you, decided to take it upon yourself to dive in with the appearance of a half fish half woman, almost like a mermaid to start the search. "They're good!" Gyokko said and looked at Muzan, who's now shaking his head in filtration.

They watched you emerge from out of the water and swim back to Muzan. "I didn't find anything- AHHH!!" You screamed as Muzan began to throw salt on you, knowing full well how sea creatures react to salt. "Change back! Now!" Muzan said, and gyokko tried to stop Muzan, but he also got hit with salt as well.

Muzan. Who will take advantage of your useful blood demon when nessacary. Nakime fell ill, and Muzan needed to get somewhere quickly due to his busy schedule. When you heard your boyfriend master Muzan, needed to get somewhere quickly, the frist thing you decided to do was shape-shift yourself into a harpy. You flew, holding Muzan's arms with your claws and you looked down to see his grumpy/annoyed expression.

"That bird version of hantengu taught you how to do this, didn't he?" Muzan asked, and you nodded happy. "Yes, his name is Urogi," you said to Muzan, but he scoffed. "Yeah. You smell like him, too. Fucking disgusting" he said. You weren't paying attention and ended up crashing into the tree.

Muzan. Who needed you to catch a really fast slayer with yellow hair. The reason? Muzan couldn't stand the bright color, and so you got down on all fours, shape shifting to have the appearance of a cheetah. "When I said get him, I didn't mean like that!" Muzan shouted as you ran off and already stressed out with how stupid you look.

You stopped running and sat down exactly like a big cat. "So... should I turn into a car? I don't think I can do that," you said, bringing your paw to your chin to think meanwhile the yellow haired slayer had run away further. "GO FUCKING GET HIM" Muzan screamed.

Muzan. Who arrived at the main spot in the infinitely castle where upper moon meetings are held. "Oh wow! You really did it! Look at that Akaza-dono," Douma said. They hadn't noticed Muzan's arrival yet, and he raised his brow, moving a bit closer to see what Douma and Akaza were so invested in. Muzan noticed you used your blood demon art to shape shifts into a small cat.

He didn't even know you could ever do that, especially at this tiny size. "Mm. I didn't think you could do it. Good job, I love cats." Akaza was about to pet you when he realized his own hand had fallen to the ground next to you after being severed. "Huh?" Akaza and Douma said, relaxing that you were also gone. They look behind them and froze in fear.

"How dare you touch my significant other," Muzan said, his voice rough as he glares at Akaza and Douma. Before they could explain themselves, they heared loud purring sounds. "...Master. I think you've taken alike to one of your significant other appearances" Kokushibo leaned down to Muzan's height, snapping him out of it to realize his thumb was rubbing your cheek. When muzan realized what he was doing, he just dropped you.

"Idiotic is what it is.." he said angrily and walked away with you still as a cat following him. However, the upper 3 could see Muzan actually found this form cute since they got a glimpse of the blush on his cheeks.

#demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #kny muzan #muzan x reader #muzan fluff

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oneforthemunny · 3 days

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How do the dom Eddies react to their girl bratting in public? Like when she's doing stuff to piss him off that really no one notices but just them

i feel like with rockstar!eddie it doesn't happen as much bc she wants to keep things private between the two of them- in the beginning and through it all really. nepo baby is more of the type to hold it all in and then mock him or ridicule him when they're alone. if she did brat in public, it would be very lowkey, and even then it's a risk bc rockstar!eddie is the type to call you out right there, loudly, bc he gets off on her being embarrassed.

dom!eddie... i mean it's the story of his life lol. he knows, really, that she's looking for a reaction, so that's what he won't do. he'll just kinda ignore her, maybe nod when she's being especially hateful. if it's super bad, or she's doing it in front of people, he'd pull her to the side, give her a warning to stop or ask if she's actually pissed about something. if they're somewhere he can drag her off and punish her, even to just subdue her for a second, he will, if not he just keeps it all in his head and waits until they're alone to handle it. it's what she wants anyways.

cowboy!eddie it doesn't happen as much with bc they don't go out as much but when it does, he's always just shocked by it. he's also the type just to take you home. you want to act bad, fine, we'll go home. always leaves you feeling guilty that the night was ruined, which is kinda the point lol. "we don't have to leave-" "-oh no. you wanted my attention so bad. wanna be mean to me. we'll go home." i don't think that happens more than once that she's just blatantly bratting bc she instantly feels guilty and it's not fun after that.

mafia!eddie it only happens when you've been feeling neglected. really pent up and ignored bc he's been working so much. even then, it's very on the low when she does. she'll pull away from his touch, push his hand off her gently, really push it in silent ways that she knows will get him pissed. not necessarily say things to him, in fact, she's very sweet. plays it off when he'd say something like, "what?" all innocent like she has nooooo idea why he's upset lol. he's controlled enough to keep his cool, play it off like he's not caught onto her little game, until they get home. she's nearly pouty, thinking it didn't work, until he asks her to come to the office with him.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #rockstar!eddie munson #cowboy!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson #dom!eddie munson

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10underoot2 · 2 days

Text

I thought I would have so much to say about the car accident scene. And while I could go on for a while on why it's everything I've ever wanted from a scene of this nature and why it's a beautifully acted cinematic piece, I do think the beauty of the scene lies so much in silence. Their expressions are do a fantastic job to express their emotional state so I'm just gonna call attention to a few things I won't get over anytime soon.

Imagine being Haein and seeing your husband wrecking a car window in hysteria. Imagine seeing disbelief on his face when he sees you and walks towards you. Imagine watching him unable to breathe properly (sound on and high for this scene). Imagine seeing life flood into him as soon as you touch him.

Jiwon plays such an important part here. Because Haein has NEVER seen Hyunwoo like this. He's a pretty calm nice, non-violent guy. She knows him to like mostly everyone and he rarely gets angry - he's pretty composed. But then what is this look of complete shattered pain on his face? With a mix of disbelief, bearing the heaviest heart on the planet? He's unrecognisable to her. She can't make sense of any of his actions. She's in utter shock hearing how hardly any air is making it's way into his lungs.

In his eyes is a look of crazed wilderness just tamed. He's out of his sense. Completely lost in the events that have just passed. Not believing that he can breathe. That it's okay. All is well in the world for now. She's unscathed.

'What's going on? Calm down.'

The way she asks him to calm down - touching his face - cause she just doesn't know what in the world could send him in such a frenzy to forget himself. Her asking him to calm down here is everything to me. She's really just saying I'm here okay. Calm down. Calm down, you can breathe. Tell me what happened and I can fix it.

'Even still, Are you crazy? How could you break the window with your bare hands? Look at this!'

I know it probably didn't register to him at that point. But he's hearing her being worried for him again when he thought her lost forever. Wouldn't that sound like music to his ears.

And her...god she's so worried for him. She's never seen him like this. She doesn't know what happened to make him like this. One she sees his absolutely broken bloody hand. Two she's seeing her husband absolutely crushed. She's so confused.

That is until his words hit her like a truck. I think she had an idea that he did it to save her but she didn't know he did it because he thought her dead. And that makes all the difference for her.

Also I thought it was very interesting to keep showing his injured hand clenching. I think it was a way to show how the physical pain still didn't hold a candle to his emotional turmoil. He CLENCHES that broken hand multiple times. I can't even begin to think when he actively registered the pain.

The need for constant touch to reaffirm that she indeed is there. The sitting down. The head on her hand. The heavy breathing. *Chef's kiss*

I love women comforting the man they love when he's broken. Gah! That hand on his face and hug. Her embracing him. Letting him cry all he wants. Giving him the reaffirmation he needs by placing her self as close to him as possible. Trying to tame and override his sense. The hand on the nape of his neck. The hand caressing his hair lovingly. And good god, the RINGS.

Also notice his breathing on her shoulder. He's trying to calm himself. Telling himself she's here. Hearing her say it's alright. Everything will be alright.

I'm sure they stay like this until the ambulance comes and asks them if they're hurt. Only then Haein must've gently tore him apart from her (hand on his face again ofcourse) and convinced/guided him to finally get treatment. I can just Imagine Hyunwoo completely dishevelled going, 'Huh *sniffs*......oh.......Right, my hand' and that's when the pain hits him.

Special mention to the hospital conversation when Haein asks him 'Will you sob like this if I die?' and he says truthfully, bashfully, embarrassed but without missing a beat 'Ofcourse.' He's hiding behind nothing. He truly meant to give up on himself after her.

For me this is also the night Haein starts to write her diary. Hyunwoo must've been sound asleep, amped up on painkillers and she must've had so much time to sit and admire him and write.

Gif credits: @wolha and @seawherethesunsets

#he cries like such a child and its heart aching #I love/hate how I didn't think I'd write much but thsi post is still so long #this scene satisfies the angsty writer in me #it's beautifully done #such gems acting!#there are no gifs of Haein fussing over him #which is sad #queen of tears #baek hyun woo #hong hae in #kim soo hyun #kim ji won #baekhong

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tokyo-debunkers-headcanons · 2 days

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is it possible to request da vagastrom ghouls + jin and luca and their reactions when someone makes their s/o cry (preferably romantic if that’s okie) i would really love to see ur ideas on this!

Ooooh! I love this one! Thank you for sending in a request!

ALAN MIDO

Alan is VERY protective of his partner. It doesn't matter if they could kick his ass in a fight, he is protective. The second he catches wind of his MC crying for ANY reason, he drops his tools and goes RUNNING to them (like my mans is SPRINTING).

He first and foremost makes sure that MC is physically okay before getting to what happenedm He's not the best at comfort so he starts by using his size and reputation to get info from any witnesses.

It actually manages to work somehow and as soon as he gets his hands on the jackass who made them cry. Its straight to the pit to make an example of them.

When the two of them are alone at last. He does his best to try and comfort them, but like I said he's not the best with that stuff. So the best is an awkward hug, a listening ear, and him trying very hard to find and play a YouTube video to make them feel better....but very they have to help him with it.

SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"

He heard from Leo that MC was caught crying while he was cooking and for once, he quickly made sure that there was no chance of a fire, and stops in the middle of his cooking to go find MC.

Sho, on the other side of things, kicks ass before anything else. He's dragging the dumbass to the pit and kicks the shit out of him. Sho doesn't hold back like Alan does. It was an clear win from the get go, so the Sho betters in the pit were taking candy from babies.

After wiping the floor with the dipshit, he runs back to MC, gently taking their hands and lead them right back to the Vagastrom kitchen. He sets aside whatever he was cooking beforehand and asked what they wanted to eat.

He won't take no for an answer, and it doesn't matter if he doesn't have the ingredients. He will take them out on Bonnie to get their mind off of things. When he has everything he needs, he'll make whatever they want to eat.

If they want they want to, he'll even try his hand at baking. With their help of course, but he's more of a cook than a baker. Anything to help his MC feel better

LEO KUROSAGI

Oh HELL no! They're done. Absolutely destroyed. No not physically, Leo doesn't fight.

But word gets around quickly, especially on the social medias but Leo waits for MC to come to him. In the meantime, he finds as much dirt as possible on whoever the hell was there.

He's looking at security cams, wickchat posts, tiktoks, etc. It takes him at MOST half an hour to find who fucked up. And another half hour to find out some pretty juicy dirt on whoever it is.

He used an alt account to leak said juicy dirt by the time MC came to him. When they do, he lets MC cuddle up to him and doomscroll tiktok with him, filtering out anything about what happened and focusing on animal and funny tiktoks.

JIN KAMURAI

This is another who would wait for MC to come to him. But if they take too long he's sending either a text or Tohma to go bring them to him

He actually sends Tohma to get details on what happened as soon as he can. Tohma being Tohma, gets all the details that Jin needs.

Jin looks for things he can use to make that person's life a living hell. Assuming they're a student, he uses his connections to get them all the way down to probation.

And te thing about Jin is, his lasts. He makes an example of this person for MONTHS or at least as long as he can get away with it.

As for what he does with MC when they're crying. I think he takes them to his room and puts down the tough guy act for once. He'll give them a little forehead kiss and talks all nice and quiet with reassuring words, but just this once. (That a bald faced lie, he's just too stubborn to admit he's soft for his partner)

#tokyo debunker #frostheim #jin kamurai #lucas errant #headcanons #luca #Vagastrom #alan mido #shohei haizono #sho #leo kurosagi

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screamingcrows · 3 days

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Chase - Dottore x reader

Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and Settling in. All of this is just stuff that will never make it into my long fic because those guys don't get to have the happiness these two will get. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm spreading Pseudomonas aeruginosa in your garden.

Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, she works under him, anger, talk of murder, weapon, angst?

MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI

"Doctor? I need to ask you a question," her voice was a far cry from the usual sharpness.

Dottore laid his pen down before taking in her face. It was uncanny how easily her voice could halt his thoughts. Faint traces of salt lingered along her cheeks, but worse still were her eyes. He motioned for her to continue, unwilling to break the delicate silence.

"Why do you pursue knowledge?"

That caused him to pause. She should know, by all means, it was a fact well known throughout the Fatui. But if she needed to hear, there was no harm repeating himself. It was a quiet day after all.

"As you know, there is a discrepancy between what information we, as inhabitants of this world, are allowed to possess and-"

"That wasn't my question," she hadn't snapped at him like that before.

He couldn't help but scrunch his nose in distaste as he briefly considered reprimanding her. The way her flame had wavered during the last month hadn't been lost on him.

Too many nights she would stay long past what was necessary, his segments conveying that they'd found her collapsed atop her desk, freezing cold and difficult to rouse.

"Pose your question better."

"What drives you? What do you want to see at the end of this? I guess," her words faltered when she finally arrived at the right question. "What do you feel when you achieve a goal?"

"A sense of satisfaction from unraveling a mystery, from solving a problem, accompanied of course by a barrage of new objectives to pursue"

His eyes flickered up to her and he found his hand reaching for the mask, diverting the movement to run his fingers through his hair instead. At the first sound of her quiet sniffles he turned his head away, crossing one leg over the other. Something so foreign and so desperately familiar was taking root.

"I feel.. I feel nothing. Like some pitiful ghost that can't move on. And I hate myself for it. Because it means they were right," her voice grew more frantic along with her sobs.

She'd begun pacing back and forth in front of the desk, the force of her steps making his pens rattle in their cup. Dottore felt it in his bones.

"I killed all those people, and it felt so good while they clawed out their eyes. So why is it so empty now? I proved myself, proved that I could, my idea worked a-and they're all dead for doubting me!"

Her frantic laughter rang through the room, making his hands tighten around the armrests. There was nothing he would say to console her, knowing there were only two options from here. It was not something to be driven by another's hand.

"It's not fair!"

The worn desk creaked with the force of her fists bearing down upon it. When he looked upon her again tears adorned her cheeks, and for a moment there was an itch to reach out and brush them away. Run a finger along her bottom lip, swollen from how she'd been chewing on it. Like so much else, it never became more than a simple fantasy.

"Did you expect to bury your troubles along with their bodies?"

"I-.. Well, yes. Obviously."

He had to bite back a chuckle, the hesitation in her voice confirmed his suspicion. She did know better than that. Taking a life out of vengeance was one thing, but living with the consequences was an entirely different issue.

With a small sigh, Dottore reached forward towards where she was leaning over the table, head hanging in defeat. He caught the longing in her eyes when she noticed the approaching hand. It was difficult not to wince when the look was replaced with disappointment when his gloved hand pulled a few things back from the edge.

"You knew it wouldn't make me feel any better," venom laced your words, unsurprising but still unpleasant to hear.

"Yes."

At least her crying had ceased, reduced to nothing but faint sniffles while she rubbed at her eyes. Her voice had risen in pitch, the sound uncomfortably invasive.

"You let me work myself to near-death knowing it was for nothing?"

"We now have a terrifying new weapon in our arsenal, and I'm sure you can improve upon it. I'll get one of the segments working on something to more efficiently deliver it, perhaps we should-"

Dottore tilted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the pen she'd thrown at him. For a moment, everything stood still as he awaited her next action. There was nothing but the faint sound of his heel repeatedly hitting the ground. Had he misjudged her?

"You absolute bastard, you.. you.."

It was difficult to remain a spectator when the realization became comically clear in her expression. Oh he hadn't misjudged her at all. She knew. What had transpired was entirely by her own choice.

A small curse passed his lips when she threw a mug onto the floor, porcelain shattering alongside her resolve. There was barely time to stop her when she stormed out of the laboratory. Perhaps a segment could check on her later.

#dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #zandik x reader #genshin impact x reader #crow with a pen #dottore x fem reader #x female reader

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jeewrites · 1 day

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Hold Fast | Ch. 5 - Five Courses

Series Master List

Rating: M, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

A/N: Frankie and Sweets finally go on their date! I do not recommend reading this when you are hungry. Ty to @bloviating-vy for beta-ing and providing all the emotional support one needs for writing fanfic lol.

Word Count: ~5.6K

Tags: no y/n, alcohol, gymbff!Benny, OC!Chloé, reader is a powerlifting girlie described as short and has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, reader's nickname is Sweets, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar, Pope owns a gym, Frankie POV, kissing, making out, gratuitous descriptions of food, Sweets eats like a powerlifter, angst that resolves by the end of the chapter, discussion of previous relationships, implied past abusive relationship (not described), cliffhanger-ish?

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After you leave on Sunday, Frankie spends the rest of the weekend scouring the internet for the latest, fanciest restaurants in the greater metropolitan area. He's determined to make up for canceling on you at the last minute and go all out for you after everything you've done to care for Gabi and him. Tucking into another bowl of your magical chicken noodle soup, Frankie sighs at his laptop after clicking through tasting menu after 7 course menu after kaiseki menu after some weird pop-up dinner theater. Yeah, no. This isn't it.

And a small part, ok large part of him, wants to impress you, but he's at a loss as to how since he doesn't know you well enough. Surely as a doctor you are used to living the good life, dining at fancy places, right? What would not just be good enough for you, but impress you? His phone buzzes with a text from Benny in the group chat about a new PR lift and that's when an idea pops into Frankie's head. After a brief exchange with Benny he shuts his laptop and readies for bed. He has a plan.

Just as you are sitting down to scarf down your lunch later that week, your phone vibrates with a text from your favorite brown-eyed pilot.

[text conversation]

😻🐟: Hey, so what kind of food do you like? 🏋🏻‍♀️: Yes 😻🐟: ???

🏋🏻‍♀️: I have to eat so much to fuel for 🏋️‍♀️, so yeah, I like food. 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🍜🍳🥩🍔🌮🥟🍣🎂🍩🍪🍮🧁🥐🫔🍧 🏋🏻‍♀️: I don't do sandwiches though 😻🐟: Roger that 🫡

😻🐟: Be ready to eat okay? Might want to wear something stretchy. Prepare yourself. 😉 🏋🏻‍♀️: 🫡 say no more. I have the perfect outfit. 😈 😻🐟: Pick you up Saturday at 4:30? I know it's early, but trust me ok? 🏋🏻‍♀️: 💃🏻💃🏻

You spend the rest of your break smiling into your lunch wondering what Frankie has planned for Saturday. The weekend couldn't come soon enough.

On Saturday, at 4:25 PM you hear a soft knock at your front door. Swinging the door open you're greeted by an enormous arrangement of dahlias, a stunning ombre of purple, pink, and fuchsia hues, a grinning Frankie peeking from over the top.

"For you," he says with a winning smile as he hands you the arrangement.

You're speechless. You didn't think he'd remember you whispering to him, nearly three weeks ago, what your favorite flowers are. And how did he know these are your favorite colors? Chase never remembered your favorite flowers despite the years you were together. He probably gave you flowers less than five times in the entirety of your relationship.

"You remembered," you breathe, looking up at him. "Frankie, they're beautiful."

"I do my best to remember the important things," Frankie huffs, cheeks pinking at your compliment. You catch him flick his eyes over your form, biting his lower lip. "And you're prettier than the flowers. You look — wow."

It's your turn for your cheeks to heat before you invite him in for a moment while you find the best spot to place the arrangement (you decide on your dining table so you can look at it every morning while you drink your coffee). The dahlias are arranged like a piece of art, exploding with color against the drab colors of your apartment. You could look at them all day.

"Sooo, where are we going this early?" you venture, finally taking your eyes off of the flowers and running your eyes over Frankie, admiring the way the navy button down shirt stretches deliciously across his broad chest and the khakis he's wearing hugs his hips and thighs. Curls accentuated with product. And surprisingly no hat.

"I'll tell you when we get in the truck," Frankie grins at you.

"Okay, Mr. Mysterious," you huff with a small smile as you grab your bag.

When you get to his truck he insists on opening the door for you and offering a hand as you climb in. As he settles into the driver's seat and starts the truck, he hands you a beige piece of folded card stock, printed to look like a menu. The cover reads, "Frankie's Food Truck Tour" in elegant script across the front.

You gape at him, excitement bubbling up your entire body. "You're taking me on a food truck tour?!?"

"Yup," Frankie responds, popping the 'p.' "Someone might’ve mentioned you love food trucks and hole in the wall restaurants. So I'm taking you to all the best ones I know about."

You're practically vibrating with anticipation as you open the card and gasp at the listed courses on the food tour.

Frankie's Food Truck Tour

First Course - Taco de Carnitas 🌮 Heirloom blue corn tortilla from house made masa, slow braised pork shoulder, pickled shallots, chicharrons

Second Course - Empanada Colombiana Braised beef, potato in fried corn flour crust

Third Course - Sunday Sauce with Fresh Tagliatelle 12 hour simmered ragu with fresh made tagliatelle

Fourth Course - Soup Dumplings ground pork, blue crab

Fifth Course - Gua Bao braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, toasted crushed peanuts in steamed bun

Dessert - Italian Water Ice

You are so very glad you wore your fancy stretchy clothes because this is a veritable feast of all of your favorite things. You weren't joking when you told Frankie you liked to eat. Plus today's SBD day was max effort sets, so you are ready to inhale some food. But you are also so moved by his thoughtfulness, planning such a creative first date. Who told him about your love of food trucks and hole in the wall spots?

As Frankie eases onto the main road, he swallows before asking, "Does it look okay?"

"Okay? This is amazing Frankie! It's so thoughtful." You look at him with watery eyes. "No one's done something like this for me in a long time." You might have let out a little sniffle because he's glancing at you with concern etched across his handsome face.

"Hey," he soothes, sliding a hand into yours. "It's my pleasure."

He presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. The gesture makes you melt inside at the sweetness. You intertwine your fingers in his, wanting to stay connected to him and you catch him smile when you do.

"Wait, so who told you I like food trucks?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

"Oh uh, I — I asked Chloé," Frankie's ears reddened at his admission. "I checked with Benny to see when she usually works out at Pope's and, uh, talked to her earlier this week."

You hum in response, impressed that Frankie would voluntarily approach Chloé considering most regulars at Pope's Gym wouldn't dare. She intimidated everyone too much.

"It was weird though. Benny acted like he didn't want me to talk to her until I told him it was to plan my date with you." Frankie continues, tapping the steering wheel.

"Huh," you wonder, filing that bit of information away. "Wonder why."

Frankie shrugs as he pulls the truck into a gravel parking lot. A half circle of food trucks sit just in front of a copse of trees, surrounded by picnic tables. Several other cars pull up shortly after you arrive and a queue starts to form at one of the food trucks on the far end.

"Ready for the first course?" Frankie grins at you as he opens the passenger door.

"Born ready, Frankie," you grin at him with barely contained glee.

By the third course, you and Frankie are both completely relaxed and enjoying each other's company, allowing the conversation to ebb and flow between food truck courses.

The carnitas tacos whet your appetite, a perfect balance of succulent pork shoulder topped with crispy chicharrones. Pickled shallots cut the tender, savory bites with crisp acid that dance along your tongue. Charred tomatillo salsa rounds out the bite. All perfectly wrapped in a freshly griddled blue corn tortilla. You can't help but close your eyes and let out a small moan as you experience the first bite. A cacophony of well-balanced flavors and complementary textures. When you open them again you catch Frankie with a pleased look on his face as he takes a bite out of his own taco.

At the second stop, Frankie asks why you don't do sandwiches as you chomp into a piping hot empanada. The corn flour crust crunches with satisfaction giving way to the tender braised beef and fluffy potato filling. Steam curls from the opening of the empanada, a testament to how freshly made it is.

"I mean, why would I want something slapped between two slices of bread when I can have this?" you respond as you gesture to your half eaten empanada. "It's just as portable and tastes a billion times better."

You scoop some of the red salsa onto your empanada before continuing, "Besides, I had way more than my fair share of sandwiches and cold, sad meals during med school and residency. I want my meals to be hot as much as possible."

"But what about hot sandwiches?" Frankie presses, even though he nods in agreement.

"I'll make an exception for them if they are really tasty," you acquiesce. "And bánh mì, especially if the baguette is baked fresh in house."

"Duly noted," Frankie smiles, taking mental note of your preferences.

"Oh my god, you have to try this salsa," you moan after you finish your salsa covered bite of empanada. The acid from the tomato cuts through the richness of the filling, followed by sharp bites from the minced white onion, finished by a hint of sweetness — maybe from pineapple?

"Wait, don't tell me you're a fan of sandwiches."

Frankie looks slightly embarrassed when he admits he eats most of his meals standing over the kitchen sink, especially when he has Gabi, but the food is usually at least hot. "I do love cooking meals for Gabi and introducing her to all of our family's foods," he adds. "She's a really adventurous eater."

You perk up at his information. "Yeah? That's so awesome Frankie. Maybe I can make her some of my family's favorites sometime?"

He gives you the sweetest look of adoration and gratitude. "She'd love that. I — I would too."

You continue to chat with Frankie about how Gabi is doing since you last saw her as he tidies up the picnic table, and you both head to his truck for the next course.

When Frankie pulls up at the third food truck, you giggle and remark at the kitschy decor, multi-color string lights, barrels painted the colors of the Italian flag, red umbrellas shading long wooden picnic tables and smaller red metal patio tables for two. The food truck itself is a long white truck reminiscent of an old milk delivery truck. Short velvet red curtains frame the ordering window with a mismatched gallery wall of photos and paintings hanging along the side.

As you and Frankie sit at a cute red patio table sharing a sangria, waiting for the buzzer to go off to retrieve your food, you hear a woman's voice call out, "Morales?! That you?"

"Hey— " Frankie stands to greet the person behind the voice before a blur of brown hair wraps him in a tight bear hug he returns awkwardly with one arm.

"Finally made it out to check out this place huh??" the brunette says as she pulls back and releases Frankie.

"Yeah, uh, thanks for the rec. This is Sweets," Frankie gestures towards you as you stand to meet her. "This is Becs. She's one of the flight nurses I work with."

"Ooh, date night?" Becs winks at Frankie as she pumps your hand up and down one too many times. "Didn't realize you were seeing anyone Morales. Gonna break all those hearts at the hospital when people find out." You offer her a wan smile, a bit overwhelmed by her chaotic energy.

"Wait! I know you," Becs cocks her head as she assesses you intently. You stiffen even if you don't recognize her. Before you know it she's dropping the name of your former employer, adding, "Yeah, I used to work as an OR nurse there, but jumped at the chance to become a flight nurse. Less surgeon egos, more excitement, ya know?" She gesticulates with fervor as she speaks.

"Yeah, uh, I worked there," you admit, realizing you've been holding your breath. "Been over a year since I left though."

She looks you over once more. Just when you think you're in the clear she snaps her fingers and exclaims, "I do know you! You were engaged to that new trauma surgeon, what's his name!"

Your heart is in your throat and you can't move. Can't breathe. Is this really happening right now? What are the chances you'd run into someone who'd recognize you from your old job right the fuck now?

"I'll never forget how you made a surgeon get on his knees so fast," she smirks. "It's not every day you see someone throw a $50k diamond ring across the cafeteria."

Really, what are the chances you'd run into someone who witnessed the moment your engagement exploded spectacularly in front of what felt like everyone at work? Over a year ago? You can't look at Frankie. This isn't how you want him to find out. Not that you were exactly hiding it from him, but wasn't this like a third date kind of conversation? What did you know, you're so out of the loop on dating things these days. Because you're old. Broken? No one's going to want you, your mother's voice hisses up from the abyss of your mind.

"Well, it's not every day you catch your fiancé cheating on you, at work," you grit out as you find your spine.

"Yeah, bummer about that." Becs waves you off. "It was hilarious watching him crawl around on his knees trying to find that ring though."

She slaps Frankie on the shoulder and says something about seeing him at work before tossing you a nice to meet you and jets off as abruptly as she appeared.

You brave a glance at Frankie, but not really seeing him with the adrenaline flooding your system. "I —"

"Sweets —"

Of course the food buzzer decides this is the most opportune moment to go off, shocking you back into yourself as it dances erratically on the metal table top flashing red like a siren. Frankie slides a hand over the buzzer and picks it up as he walks around the table to stand in front of you. With his other hand he gently cups the side of your face.

"Sweets, you don't have to explain. It's ok. Breathe."

You swallow and let out a stuttery breath as you clasp a hand over his. His hand is warm and comforting against your skin, steady unlike your heart pounding through your chest. The buzzer continues to flash red and vibrate, muted now in his other hand. When you look up, his warm brown eyes only convey care and concern at your thinly veiled panic. Full blown panic, really. You're practically shaking.

"Hey," his voice is soft like when he speaks to Gabi. "It's okay. I'm going to go grab our food and when I get back you can tell me as much or as little as you want. Whenever you're ready. Or we can just go back to talking about how much we hate sandwiches, okay?"

"I— you— okay," is all you can manage, followed by a small nod, eyes still wide with panic, even with his attempt at humor. Coherent sentences are back to being a struggle apparently.

"We all have baggage, Sweets. I mean, I have a whole ex-wife and toddler, remember?" He gives you one more understanding smile before telling you not to go anywhere as he heads to the food truck to collect your food.

How are you supposed to eat anything right now? Your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots. You plop down in your chair as the adrenaline recedes, replaced by a wave of dread at what to possibly say to Frankie when he returns. At some point you did plan to tell him, but what happened spans several conversations, none appropriate for a first date. You try to ground yourself in what he said before he went to retrieve the food. It's okay. He has baggage too. He's okay with you telling him what you’re ready to tell him. What the fuck are you ready to tell him?

When Frankie arrives at Pope's Gym to catch Chloé and ask for her help in dinner ideas for his date with you, he isn't prepared for Benny acting so cagey and weird.

"Hey, Benny," Frankie greets Benny at the front desk with a familiar dap of the fist.

"Fish," a rare one word response from Benny, the more loquacious of the two Miller brothers.

"She here?"

"Sweets or Chloé?" Benny asks, feigning ignorance even though Frankie literally just texted him the day before asking when Chloé usually worked out at Pope's.

"For God's sake Ben, I'm looking for Chloé." Frankie glares at Benny before rolling his eyes. "To help me plan my date with Sweets. What's gotten into you?"

"Oh. Right, yeah she's here," Benny mumbles nodding in Chloé's general direction before sulking away.

As Frankie treks over, he notes the message on her cut off shirt declaring, "I'M A RAY OF FUCKING SUNSHINE." Chloé's covered in a sheen of sweat and breathing hard as she finishes a set of medicine ball slams.

"I'm pretending this is your head," she mutters at Frankie as he approaches. "For canceling on Sweets the day of without telling her why."

Frankie decides to stop a generous distance away from Chloé. He lifts his cap and runs his fingers through his curls, a nervous tic, before replacing the cap on his head. "Yeah, um, that really was my bad. Uh, that's — that's actually why I'm here."

He swears the glare Chloé gives him could kill.

"And why should I help you." It's not a question, but a challenge.

"I want to really impress her and go all out for her this Saturday to make-up for canceling," he continues before pausing. "Especially since she took such good care of my daughter and me when Gabi got sick last week. Which is — which is why I canceled at the last minute."

Chloé gives him a non-committal grunt, brows still furrowed, but her eyes motion for him to continue.

"I thought about taking her to some of those fancy tasting menu places, but I realize I don't know what she really likes… If she'd be into that."

"I mean, who doesn't like a fancy meal once in a while?" Chloé scoffs and shifts her weight from side to side, as if she's trying to decide whether to divulge more and help Frankie out. "But Sweets isn't into the fancy shit the way she is into food trucks and hole in the wall spots. The woman is always on the hunt for the best tacos or dumplings or whatever in the area."

Frankie nods along intently to what Chloé shares and takes detailed mental notes. You truly are a woman after his own heart.

"You should see her on vacation trying to suss out the best local eats. You always know you're going to eat well with her." Chloé glares back at Frankie before concluding with a threat for good measure. "You hurt her and I'll kill you. She's — she's been through enough. She doesn't need another guy wrecking her life."

Frankie appreciates a direct woman. And the tip about some guy wrecking your life. He stores that one away along with the threat.

"I just want to go all out for her. She deserves the best," he manages. "Gonna try my hardest not to fuck it up."

"Good," Chloé resumes picking up the medicine ball and raising it overhead before slamming it down on the ground. How does someone make everything sound like a threat?

"That still my head?" Frankie ventures looking at the medicine ball.

"Depends," Chloé huffs back at him, but he thinks he catches her smirking at him for a moment. "On how well you take care of my friend."

As Frankie thanks Chloé and turns to leave, he catches Benny hiding behind the cable tower machine watching the entire interaction, pretending to wipe down the gym equipment. Benny never cleans a goddamn thing unless it is a weapon.

"You're gonna take the paint off the metal," Frankie whispers to Benny as he walks by.

"Huh?"

Frankie shoves Benny out from behind the cable tower, "See you later, Benny boy. Good luck with that," as he motions with his eyes towards Chloé.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Benny calls back after catching himself from falling on his face in front of Chloé.

Frankie just shakes his head and beelines it to his truck. He has a food truck tour to plan.

When Frankie returns with a giant pile of fresh tagliatelle smothered in Sunday sauce, your stomach turns even if ragu is one of your favorite things. He sets everything down gently as if he is afraid to spook you with any sudden movements or sounds.

"I — I wasn't trying to hide my ex-fiancé from you," you blurt out without thinking. Smooth start there, tiger. Real smooth. You worry your hands in your lap to hold back the rising waves of anxiety. "I just thought failed engagements are more like a third date kinda conversation."

"Didn't think ya were," Frankie responds as he settles back into his chair. He slides a large hand across the table beckoning for you to place one of your hands in his. After a beat you slide a hand into his. It's warm and grounding. You find your shoulders relaxing away from your ears a smidge, and your stomach settles.

"I meant it when I said you don't have to tell me anymore than you're ready to," he reassures before something you said clicks, and he beams at you. "You'd go on a third date with me?"

You can't help but offer a small grin back, "I'd let you take me on as many dates as you want if they're anything like this, Frankie."

"Minus the co-worker with the big mouth." Frankie is full of jokes. "Too soon?"

You suppress a giggle bubbling up from your throat. "I guess that means you're not going to take me home after this?"

"Not unless you want me to, Sweets," Frankie squeezes your hand. "I'm having the best time."

Your stomach rumbles at this exact moment in response and Frankie laughs, tummy shaking laughter, wondering out loud how you are still hungry after tacos and empanadas.

"I told you I like to eat!" You cross your arms in mock indignation as Frankie wipes away tears of laughter and hands you a fork.

As you both dig into the pile of pasta, marveling at the depth of flavor a 12 hour simmer gives the ragu, you take the opportunity to ask Frankie about his work as an EMS pilot. His entire body is buoyant with excitement when he talks about flying, brown eyes bright with passion. You can tell the two loves of his life are Gabi and flying by the way he speaks about both.

"The hours aren't terrible, 12 hour shifts, 4 days on and 3 days off, with a lot of waiting around. But at least I'm not getting shot at now when I fly," Frankie shares, adding how his parents help watch Gabi when he has custody and has to work. Your breath hitches at the thought of anyone shooting at sweet Frankie.

"Next stop?" he tries to change the subject when he catches your worried expression.

You nod and attempt to help clear the table, but Frankie insists you don't lift a finger.

The next two stops fly by as Frankie tells you about the owners of the soup dumpling take-out window, former cooks at some Taiwanese chain making its way into the U.S.

"Ooo yes, DTF! I've been to one of their locations before!" you exclaim.

His eyebrows curve upward in confusion, "Wait, I thought DTF meant... something else??"

"Ohmygosh, DTF — Din Tai Fung!" you cackle. "Their soup dumplings are to die for."

Frankie admits he hasn't ever eaten a soup dumpling before as you lift the lid and a cloud of savory steam erupts from the bamboo steamer basket. You offer him two options that won't involve near boiling broth burning his mouth off. After all, you have... plans for that mouth.

"Next time we have to try the pork and shrimp ones too," Frankie tells you as he opens the passenger door for you. Seeing his eyes light up after the first bite and slurp of soup dumpling, you know he is a convert for life.

At the last stop he slides an arm around your shoulders as you sit side by side on a park bench splitting one extra-large gua bao, too full to each have your own. It’s the size of your face instead of the standard appetizer size. Frankie insists you take the first bite of the pillowy soft steamed bun, a vehicle for the unctuous braised pork belly, pickled mustard greens, and toasted crushed peanuts. The umami of spiced soy sauce carries forward balanced notes of anise and cinnamon with a not too sweet caramel finish of hoisin and brown sugar. A savory symphony of flavors in your mouth.

"That good huh," Frankie smiles as you let out a groan.

"Mmph," is all you can manage, eyes closed, savoring the bite with a happy food wiggle.

You offer the bao up to him, angled so he can get the perfect bite, the scruff on his chin tickling your fingers as he takes an exaggerated bite.

"Fuch, ish good," he mumbles, mouth full and sauce dripping out the corner of his mouth.

When you brush your thumb to wipe the sauce away, the pink triangle of his tongue peeks out to lick your finger clean. Your eyes flick up and catch a dark, mischievous look across Frankie's face that makes you want to combust on the fucking spot. You distract yourself by taking another bite of the bao before offering the last bite to him.

He sighs in contentment when the food is finished and pulls you closer to him, tucking you to his side. It's warm and safe here snuggled against him with his strong arm draped over your shoulder as you idly watch other diners nearby. Safe enough you weigh the risk of ruining the moment by sharing about your painful past.

"Can I tell you a little bit about... what happened a year ago?" you ask, voice quiet, looking up at him.

Frankie returns your gaze, "Of course."

"Ok," you drop your gaze to your hands and take a deep breath before continuing. "We, um, met in college. Both of us pre-med... and just dorks with the same goals you know?"

You tell Frankie about Chase, how he changed from a sweet college boy to someone you didn't recognize as you went through med school and residency. "I was so afraid of being alone, I ignored the red flags and how we were growing apart until he went out of state for his fellowship and I stayed here. That’s when I realized I was happier on my own than when he would visit."

You peek up at Frankie through your lashes and realize he's been looking at you and listening intently the entire time. "But it took catching him cheating for me to leave."

You shudder at the memory of the night you tried to leave and the weeks that passed before you finally could. That is a story for another day. Frankie tightens his grip around your shoulders as he releases a sharp exhale through his nose when you stop talking.

"I appreciate you sharin' all that with me, Sweets," he says, pausing as if he isn't sure what he wants to say next. His thumb on your shoulder tracing slow circles on your skin.

"I guess I spent the last year working on myself and figuring out what I want now in a relationship," you continue.

"And what's that?"

"Where I can be myself and not have to cut off pieces to fit someone else's idea of who I should be — accepted for being me," the last part you say wistfully.

"As you should be. You're amazing, you know that?"

"Depends who you ask," you respond, quirking a smile up at him. "But I like myself alright now."

Frankie shares a bit about where things went south with Vanessa, his struggles with learning how to single parent. They had been high school sweethearts and stayed together, though he admits he felt like they were growing apart even before he joined Delta Force. How they tried to stick it out when Vanessa got pregnant with Gabi, but eventually realizing it was better for everyone if they separated.

You pull his arm tighter around you when you feel him hesitate and start to pull back after sharing about his own relationship history.

"Thanks for telling me."

"Not too much?" Frankie asks, eyes etched with worry.

"You're never too much for me, Frankie."

He visibly relaxes before asking, "Would getting dessert be too much?"

"Never," you say as you stand and offer your hands to pull him up. "Don't you know I have a whole separate stomach for dessert?"

The dessert course is a small takeaway window for Italian water ice just off the broad walk along the beach. You weigh the flavor options, debating between mango and passion fruit, before finally deciding on mango. Frankie picks passion fruit without hesitation.

He gives you a knowing smile and wink when you raise an eyebrow to his choice, "Figure that way you'll get to try both flavors." Is it possible to simultaneously melt into a puddle and combust from his thoughtfulness?

The velvety smooth ice refreshes as the fruit flavor cleanses your palate from your decadent dinner. You both make your way down the broad walk at a leisurely pace, sharing bites of yours with Frankie as he feeds you bites of his.

“Not too sweet?” he asks with a grin, knowing your bar for the ideal dessert.

“Not too sweet,” you confirm with a pleased smile.

He offers you the last spoon of his dessert, which you accept without hesitation because your sweet tooth is the boss, before he takes both your empty cups and tosses them into the trash. You intertwine your fingers in his as you continue your stroll, turning down one of the piers and walking down part of the way.

“Think this might be the best first date I’ve ever been on,” you smile at him, eye to eye as you lean back and balance on the lowest rung of the railing. His strong arms cage you in on both sides, protective as if you might possibly fall into the water below.

“Yeah?” He breathes back, curls whipped wild by the ocean’s breeze, brown eyes anchored to yours. “What would make it definitely the best first date you’ve ever been on?”

“If you kissed me right now.” The tip of your tongue wets your lower lip as your gaze flicks to his plush lips curving into a small smile at your words.

Frankie smooths your hair back before cupping your cheek with one hand. “Think I can manage that.” He presses the line of his body against you as he slots his mouth against yours, gently at first, until you open for him to lick into your mouth. A soft moan escapes your throat. He kisses you harder, his other large hand snaking up the middle of you back to cup your neck, holding you in place. You reach your hands to run your fingers through his curls, such soft curls, tugging to keep him pressed against you. When he lets out a soft moan you realize he likes it when you do that.

Your foot slips when someone suddenly catcalls the two of you, followed by a "GET A ROOM!" But Frankie catches you with his quick reflexes, holding you tight against him. "I got you, baby," he reassures, voice breathy and soft. Baby. You practically melt at the endearment. And because he's now nuzzling the sensitive spot behind your ear with the delicious curve of his nose, peppering kisses down the column of your neck.

"Frankie," your voice comes out breathy like you've just sprinted down the broad walk. You repeat his name when he continues to pepper you with kisses.

"Hmm," he rumbles against your neck.

"We're in public." A giggle escapes your throat.

His eyes flick up to yours, black pupils edging out the brown you get lost in, expression intense. Hungry, but not for food. He wraps an arm around your waist and places you gently back on solid ground.

"I can fix that, baby," he murmurs. Pressing a kiss to your temple and tucking your hair behind your ear, he steers you by the small of your back and leads you back to his truck.

<< prev next >>

Endnote: Sweet's relationship with her ex-fiance is partially inspired by this quote from Robin Williams: "I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel alone."

Hi hi, did ya miss me? I missed YOU. Been adjusting to a new job and the absolute fatigue from training has me beat (summer powerlifting competition wee!). But I’m so glad Frankie and Sweets finally went on their date and ate so well. It’s funny, but I’ve mostly written the last chapter and I just need to get them there. I’m learning that all the stuff between is uh, the hard part. Also, I still haven’t wrapped my head around writing smut, but we’ll see. At least they kinda made out? Lol. Thanks for reading if you’ve made it this far. It means the world to this newbie fanfic writer. Taglist is open! You know you wanna! xoxo, Jee

Taglist: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal

@burntheedges @darkheartgatita @enretrogue @titabel

@copperhalfcent @triplefrontier-anniversary

#hold fast a frankie x powerlifting!reader fanfic #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal characters #triple frontier #happy frankie friday #frankie friday

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hyuuukais · 1 day

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⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, blood/injuries

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 3 ~ LAKE HAVEN (2.1k)

The bell by the door rings, signaling somebody entering the store and you put your phone down. An elderly lady is walking around looking at the different displays you have out to buy, most of which were created out of boredom between client orders. She's looking at a bouquet of pink and purple roses wrapped tightly in a white lace. You made that two days ago for a baby shower but made one too many, putting the extra out this morning after the order was picked up. The woman picks up the bouquet and smiles wide, looking up at you from where she's standing away from the counter.

"These are beautiful," she says, her voice frail.

"Thank you," you say, standing up straight. Compliments always give you a boost of confidence. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"Flowers for my daughter's wedding, it's tomorrow and her florist fell through," she shakes her head, bringing the flowers to the front. "Oh, she's been waiting for this day ever since she was a little girl. I'm glad I get to see her married before... well, she's my last grandchild to be wed, you see."

"Exciting! You must be a pretty great grandmother coming here to get her new flowers," you smile. "Normally we don't do this, but I can make a personal arrangement if you'd like and have it done to be picked up by tonight-"

"No, no, dear," she declines. "These will be just perfect."

They're a bit wilted at the edges, but you don't argue with her. Instead, you ring up the price and let her pay. When her card payment doesn't go through for the third time, you offer to pay for her.

"I don't know why it's not working," she sighs. "Can you read the date for me? It shouldn't expire for another month..."

"Of course," you take the card from her and your face pales. "U-um, ma'am, this has been expired for four years."

"Four years?" The woman shakes her head. "That's... that's..."

When you look up from the card, you barely hold in a gasp at the change in the woman's appearance. The entire right side of her face is skeletal, and the flesh still on her bones is rotted and sunken in. She reaches out with a shaky hand and takes her card back from you, your fingers brushing and you're temporarily blinded. You find yourself looking up at her from behind the counter, your vision blurry. When did you hit the floor?

"Oh, dear," the woman joins you behind the counter, a hand snaking up your neck and jaw. "I-I never saw my granddaughter's wedding. What a shame..."

A wave of dizziness hits you, your sight blurring as her other hand comes up onto the other side of your face. Her hands travel up and into your hair, smoothing it down and away from your face. The way she's touching you is gentle, but dangerous. You can feel your heartbeat slowing and your breaths getting lighter and lighter the longer her skin is making contact with yours. Eyelids fluttering shut, you let the woman take your head into her lap, shushing you, reassuring you maybe, but you can't make out her words any longer. Her ghostly touch feels more solid by the second.

Right as you're about to let sleep take you, she's being ripped off of you and your head hits the ground, but it doesn't register. You hear shouting, open your eyes to see two shapes arguing, one keeping the other away from your body. Slowly, you can feel yourself regaining enough strength to sit up against the wall. Placing your head in your hands, you groan at the sharp pain radiating from your temples to the back of your skull.

"Are you okay?" You recognize Jeongin's voice. "Y/n, answer me."

"S-sure," you exhale, rubbing your eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. What the fuck was that?"

"Like I said, other spirits are catching on, even ones who dont know they're dead yet," Jeongin begins to explain. "Now that they know you can communicate with us, they're not going to stop trying to get to you."

"But why?" You shake your head.

"Energy- they want it, crave it," he sits with his back against the counter across from you. "Didn't you feel it?"

"Is that what that was?" He nods. "Oh... what about you?"

"Some of us are less desperate. Some just want to finish what they're here for, whatever that may be." He shrugs. "Enough about that. Have you learned anything else?" When you don't answer, he sighs. "You literally have one job."

Your head jumps up at this and you're about to tell him your one job is the flower shop, not helping him, but you see he's looking away from you trying not to laugh. Unable to hold back, a small giggle leaves your lips and his eyes find yours. Soon, you're both laughing and you don't even notice the way your headache has disappeared. All you can focus on is the sound of him, the way his eyes turn into crescent moons as his smile grows wider and wider. If he weren't dead, you'd take this opportunity to ask him out. What?

"I'll have you know I did try contacting a private investigator, but he hasn't been much help," you admit and show him the texts.

"He seems enthusiastic about this," Jeongin teases and you roll your eyes. "I might have something, not sure if it's helpful yet though. There's this lake outside of the city-"

"Lake Haven?" You ask and he nods, opening his mouth. "I used to go there all the time as a kid! I haven't been back in years."

"Eager to go back at all?" He asks. "Cause I think there's something out there, but like everything else, it's blank. It might be similar to the playground. Going there might unlock something?"

"It's worth a shot," you say with a shrug.

An hour goes by and you're pulling into a narrow dirt road leading to a slew of private cottages. Jeongin points to one that looks as dead as him, and you turn into the driveway. It's an older house with a sign on the door indicating it's closed for upcoming renovations, but there don't seem to be any workers at the moment. Hesitantly, you open your car door and make your way to the front of the house.

It's small and simple compared to the rest of the cottages, dust greeting you as you open the creaky door. Jeongin moves past you and takes in your surroundings, taking a deep breath and you watch his shoulders untense. If he's remembering anything already, he's not sharing, but watching him tells you enough. There's a direct pathway to glass double doors on the other side and he stops, fingers trailing over the kitchen island next to him. When his hand stops, you notice a chunk of faux marble missing from the edge. Jeongin's smile falters slightly, removing his hand and examining the broken island.

"I remember this- this is from a party Hyunjin threw here without his dad knowing," Jeongin places a hand on each side of the marble and closes his eyes, hanging his head between his arms. "Stupid."

"Is that why we're here?" You ask, hand hovering above his shoulder. Before you can touch him, he moves away.

"No," Jeongin opens the back door. "No, it's not. Out here, ladies first."

You roll your eyes and suppress a smile as you walk through the exit. The doors open up to a small yard with a path leading down to the shore, a wooden dock waiting at the end with a dirty boat for fishing. Two rods are sitting on the seat with a tackle box by the nose, a splash of what looks like red paint on the top handle. There are a few chairs folded up and leaning against the porch you just walked off of, Jeongin grabbing two of them for you to sit on.

Quiet; it's quiet out here at the lake. You don't recognize this part and assume you must have stayed on the other side. This area is more secluded, trees and bushes lining the edges of the water with only small rocky shores peaking out for people to park their boats and get in the water. A bird sings somewhere to your far left, and as you turn your head you catch a glimpse of a boy standing on the bottom step of the porch, causing you to jump. Fists clenching with anxiety, you recognize the blonde boy- Hyunjin. He's got orange swim shorts on and a loose white tank top, dark roots starting to show on his scalp. His expression is hard to read, somehow blank and full of emotion, but it quickly changes as another boy comes bounding down the steps and down the dock, a smile that reaches his eyes forming.

Hyunjin is jogging down the sandy path between wooden structures, grabbing the wrist of the other boy who you see is Jeongin. Time has passed since the last memory; they're almost fully grown here, probably older teenagers. Jeongin is pulling his wrist away, but he's laughing, and so is Hyunjin as he forces the boy closer to him. He's locked his arms around Jeongin tightly, swaying them side to side as the younger one tries to escape his grip. You catch a glimpse of the mischievous look on Jeongin's face right before he throws them both over the edge of the dock and into the water, successfully breaking away from his captor.

"This is the day I got my first car," present-day Jeongin leans over to whisper in your ear, a small shiver going down your spine. "I wasn't supposed to drive this far, but Hyunjin suggested coming out here to celebrate since it would be empty this time of year. The water-"

"Jeongin!" Hyunjin screams, jumping back onto the dock. "It's freezing!"

"-was very cold." You laugh as Jeongin finishes his sentence with a breathy laugh to match yours.

"Come back or I'll pull you back in!" Younger Jeongin shouts, moving to float on his back.

"You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't sound so sure about that," Jeongin floats closer to the dock, hand outstretched to wrap slender fingers around Hyunjin's ankle. "Test me."

Hyunjin replies by kicking water at him, which turns out to be a huge mistake. No hesitation, he's not so gently yanked into the lake, coming up with a gasp. After a moment of silence and a look of pure betrayal on Hyunjin's face, Jeongin splashes him again. This time, Hyunjin is prepared and swims out of the way. They continue to splash and fight and swim, laughter bubbling up through the air, and you find yourself unable to keep the smile off your face as you watch this moment of happiness between friends.

Looking over at Jeongin, you see a sad smile on his face. His eyes are focused on the two of them, and you can't help but wonder what's going on in his head. He must miss Hyunjin like crazy, and Hyunjin must miss him as well.

"We could tell him," you say softly, Jeongin's attention turning to you.

Up close, you notice details you haven't before; the sharpness of his cheekbones, his plump lips. He's very beautiful, he would have killed it in the world of acting.

"Tell him what? That you're talking to his dead best friend?" Jeongin shakes his head. "No way. You're out of your mind."

"Yeah but-" you cut yourself off.

Back out in the water, the boys are gone, but there's someone out there. It's hard to see from this distance, but you think you can see a man standing upright in a boat holding something sharp in his hand. You can feel Jeongin tense beside you, and you're not feeling any more comfortable. The man holds the object up to his throat, making eye contact with you the whole time as he slides it across his skin, red washing down under his shirt. You can't tear your eyes away as he collapses over the edge, disappearing under the water. The boat floats eerily by itself, a weird feeling washing over you.

"Who was that?" You ask, finally pulling your eyes back to Jeongin. "He seemed... like he knew us."

"I don't know," Jeongin replies.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, no ideas of who it could be. All you knew is that he was a ghost too, showing you how he died. There's a buzz in your pocket-

notes ~ who was that man 👀

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800

@dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

@lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung

reply or send an ask to be added (18+)^^^ green means i can't tag you

#⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404 #skz #stray kids #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x fem reader #yang jeongin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #yang jeongin series #smau #partial smau #non idol au #i.n x reader #i.n x fem reader

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kuninkaanmurhaaja · 2 days

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Crystalline (3)

mwIII zombies au ghoap, hurt/comfort find part 2 here ---------------------------

"Alright, Lieutenant Riley, let's see..." the nurse started, looking over the clipboard in her hand. The anticipation as a short silence settled in the room was eating away at Simon, and especially John. Poor Scot was worried more than he let on around the nurse. "From what our researchers have gathered from a sample we took off of you, these crystals seem to be a result of the infection, yet... it's not turning you into a... zombie." She paused and thought her next words out carefully, "Not that you're exactly immune, of course, you just seem to have an odd reaction to it that we haven't seen in anyone yet." Simon nodded along, understanding what she meant, but that didn't give him an idea of the future. How this was going to affect him further than it already has and if it'll, well, kill him. John seemed to get to the talking before Simon could even get his mouth open, "So what does this mean fer him? Can he still even work? Is this going to kill him? It better fuckin' no, I swear on every last one of yer goddamn scientists they better figure this shite out. I'm no letting him die on my watch." The nurse seemed to take this as calmly and professionally as she could. She let out a short breath, replying slowly, "Sergeant MacTavish, trust me they're doing everything they can to understand why he's reacted this way, but it's not easy. We barely even understand the virus itself." She sighed, glancing at her clipboard, but continued, "In the meantime, we'll have to keep him here for testing. I'm sure you understand." Even Simon himself seemed opposed to the idea of being kept in the infirmary, prodded and tested on. That much was clear from his face. He immediately protested, and so did John. They argued there was some way they could do their testing and allow Simon to stay in John's company and do his work. The nurse tried to reason, but ended up with just a compromise, knowing she won't get through to the two men. "Alright! We'll take samples and while the researchers do their tests, Riley can keep doing his work. I know you don't exactly trust us, MacTavish, so when we get results you can be here with the Lieutenant as we read them out to him." She pinched the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh. Gathering herself, she set the clipboard down and leaned against the table, crossing her arms and finally coming to the conclusion of this visit, "Lieutenant Riley will have to stay on bed rest as his injuries recover, the gas did some damage to his lung that need time to heal. I'll be going, but you're allowed to stay with him, Sergeant." With that she took her leave and left the two in silence. ---------------------------

I don't really like this but i needed to get something out, and sorry for being gone for so long, I was having really bad mental health issues and needed to take care of myself for a while, but here's part 3. As always, tips and suggestions are welcome. <3

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #ghoap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #angst #cod mw3 #cod mwiii #cod mwii #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost mw2 #soap mw2

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jinuaei · 3 hours

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I can offer you an idea of yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?

Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!

Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader

Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE

WC: ~1.5k

Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.

“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee.

The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???

“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.

Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…

“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.

He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.

You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you.

His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.

Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble.

He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.

One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop!

Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.

When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.

“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.

In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind.

You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.

Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.

“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.

You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”

The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood, silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit.

As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?

“Amen.”

You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.

“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.

“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.

“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”

“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.

He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.

It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.

Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like.

You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.

Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…

“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.

“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”

Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.

Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.

But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.

A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.

Support me here so I would be more likely to write more fics 🤭

#yandere x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #alastor x you #Hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel

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zqcky01 · 7 hours

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So, I read your Pebble x reader thing and it gave me the idea for this request.

Stone x reader, and they're like hanging out, on a date, idk. Point is, trying to hang out alone together but Pebble is being a little shit and ruining it.

Only if you want to tho, ofc!

Date Night! + Pebble!

Stone x Reader

a/n: pebble can ruin my dates

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You and Stone shared an ice cream that you just stole. You giggled as you gently wiped off ice cream from Stone’s lips. “How silly…” You teased. Stone titled his head to the side, before he smirked. “You look so—“ “Can I have a bite?”

You and Stone looked over, seeing Pebble staring at your ice cream. “Jesus Christ…” You sighed, rubbing your head, shaking your head. “No, you can’t. Go harass someone else.” Stone muttered, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Turning you both away from Pebble. “He’s a stalking.” “I mean technically he is you—“ Stone cuts you off by shoving ice cream into your mouth. You huffed, muttering under your breath. “Careful—I might just shove something in your mouth—“ Stone was also cut off, by Pebble who was munching on the ice cream. The two of them made eye contact. “Why me…” Stone groaned as he grabbed your hand and pulled you away.

You and Stone ran off. He tugged you along the sidewalk, holding your hand tightly. “Why is he following us anyways?” You asked, leaning closer to him, titling your head to the side. “I don’t know. He’s annoying.” Stone grumbled while rolling his eyes. “But he’s you?” “Shut up!”

Pebble suddenly appeared above you two. “You’re basically talking crap about yourself.” Pebble said, smirking as he licked a lollipop. “I hate myself already.” Stone grumbled as he shoved Pebble’s face away. Then tugging you along. You laughed. “That’s kinda of funny…” You giggled. “See! Even your little partner thinks so too.” Pebble said, winking over to you. “You could flirt with anyone—literally anyone. But you choose them?!” Stone groaned as he pointed over to you.

“Hey what’s wrong with me?” You asked, huffing. You crossed your arms over your chest. “Technically aren’t we both dating them?” “No!”

Stone grumbled as he pulled you away. You smiled sheepishly while following him.

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Your back was pinned against an alleyway wall, Stone pressing against you. The two of you weren’t do anything—that would be considered has inappropriate. The two of you were just simply staring at each other deeply. Speaking a few words, then going back to silent.

Stone leaned his face closer to yours, his breath gently hitting the tip of your nose. Your gaze soften at him, your eyes flickering down to his lips. You both began to lean in close to each other.

“Want some candy?” Pebble said, popping up in between of you and Stone. The both of you froze. “Pebble!!”

Pebble was lying on the floor with bruises and bumps. Stone and you stared down at him, before smiling. “Wanna get some food?” “Sure.”

#x you #ramshackle x you #ramshackle x reader #oneshot #stone x reader ramshackle #stone x reader #x reader #fluff #silly #ramshackle stone #pebble ramshackle

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johnslittlespoon · 5 hours

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curtbuckbucky nightclub au .* :☆ﾟ. ☽

open for drabble/more pics! <3

alright, i've never done a proper 'intro' post for a fic/au i have in mind, but this one has been rotting in my brain for ages and i know there's no way i'm not gonna write something for it eventually so here goes, bear with me <3 made a lil edit (took me fucking hours to collect enough stock footage lmfao) to go along with it too >:)

a modern au where college student curt is a regular at a new–ish queer nightclub, showing up every friday night without fail to dance his heart out, his way of de–stressing at the end of every week and getting his pent up energy out. he's the prettiest little thing, dresses up so fun– some nights he throws on dresses or crop tops with skirts or short shorts when he's feeling it, other nights he goes for more of a relaxed baggy pants and flowy linen button up type of vibe– always with the same pair of scuffed up sneakers on for ease of dancing.

the bartenders and other regulars adore their bubbly little club bunny, always looking out for him, doting on him with free drinks and food. and even if some of them eye curt like he's dinner when he's out on the floor swaying his hips, eyes closed to fully lose himself in the music, the glitter on his eyelids and cheekbones catching the lights just right, curt's not there for any of that. he dances with people occasionally, he's confident and carefree and likes the attention and it makes him giggle when he catches newcomers staring, doesn't mind a wandering hand here and there, but he never goes home with anyone. the same routine, every friday, dancing until his dark waves are curling damp with sweat against his temples and his black eyeshadow is smudged and he leaves to make the walk back to the flat he shares with a few roomies.

enter john and gale, longterm boyfriends who sometimes like to go out clubbing and find someone pretty to bring home for a fun time, only an open relationship in that sense– they have no interest in actually dating other people, both adamant that it's no strings attached, too head over heels for each other to have eyes for anyone else anyway.

they decide to check out a club they haven't been to yet, usually sticking to the tried and true ones, but a couple of their friends recommend it, so they give it a go one friday night. they've barely sat down at the bar with their drinks when they see a boy who, john comments to gale, looks like the 'energizer bunny' (gets a snort out of curt when he tells him so in the future.) even once they're buzzed enough to head out onto the dance floor together, neither of them can take their eyes off of the bundle of energy, mesmerized.

they both know the other is equally enamoured with the boy, drinking up all the glitter and bouncy curls and blissed out smiles, already knowing they just have to have him– the prettiest thing they've ever seen. curt's confused when they approach him, because he's noticed them too, has been admiring from afar, but he's also noticed their hands and lips all over each other, dancing much too close and comfortably to not be a couple. but john purrs out "we just like to have a little fun every now and then sweetheart, don't you?"

and no, not really, he doesn't. usually a night of exhausting himself dancing is his idea of fun, not ever looking for anything else, not finding most guys worth his time. but john and gale sweet talk him just right, spend time actually getting to know him when he agrees to let them buy him a drink at the bar, and fuck, they're both the hottest things he's seen walk into the club in a long time, and they're giving him all their attention? he decides that maybe he'll be brave and flirt back. despite his confidence and lack of caring what other people think about him, he's so shy and easily flustered when someone he's actually into makes the moves on him, doesn't even know what to do with himself when he realizes he's blushing at their compliments and the combination of their heavy gazes on him.

obviously they all get each other worked up as the night goes on, and curt goes home with them and gets his world rocked, spoiled and pillow princess–ed and showered in praise, not at all what he expects hook–ups to be like after having only been with people he's been dating. he expects to walk back home after since they all live in the same vicinity of downtown, tries to ignore his wobbly legs when he finally crawls out of bed, gets dragged back down by gale for one last messy breathless makeout while john gets him an uber before curt can protest or offer to pay.

normally john and gale don't get the numbers of their one night stands, but they want to make sure he gets home safe, and they can both gauge how the other is feeling and they know they'll want to see him again if they're lucky enough for curt to say yes, so john puts his number into curt's phone and tells him "text when you're home safe, yeah? or, y'know, text whenever you want." and curt isn't sure if this is john saying they both want to see him again, because he's dense and shy and they made it clear beforehand that they're in a closed relationship, but next friday he texts to let them know he'll be at the club again, and john and gale tell him they'll be there, the three of them going home together for a second time that night, and they fall into a routine from then on.

curt gets giddy every friday, dolling himself up extra pretty for the two men, flushed at their attention every time and so thrilled to dress up for someone other than himself for once. he can already feel himself going all heart–eyes for them after the second or third time they hook up, but he knows where he stands, and he's having fun experimenting for the first time and having two experienced, sweet guys show him a good time every week, so he doesn't want to jeopardize that by getting his feelings involved.

little does he know that john and gale are falling head over heels too for this sweet energetic boy, loving how much he spices up their lives, both in the bedroom and out, realizing their flat feels so quiet now on the nights where they don't take curt home with them. so that leads to some serious conversations to see if they're on the same page about getting to know curt better, both of them learning how to navigate this new territory because neither of them expected to want to bring someone else into their world like this. they agree they'd like to take curt out on a cute date, during the daytime for once, to properly test the waters and see how curt feels– of course he slots into their lives perfectly, as if he's been there all along. <3

but along the way: lots of slow burn, miscommunication, endless filthy smut, curt trying to balance college and work and friends with his newfound feelings for john and gale, john and gale getting dragged to raves and festivals by their always adventurous bf, city night–life juxtaposed by early morning domesticity, etc etc.

this has been floating around in my head for a couple weeks since i got this vision of 2012–stalker–era barry with eyeshadow and glitter stuck in my brain and thus a whole universe/plot spawned from it. honestly would mostly be pwp, but would love to write a proper fic for it anyway eventually, each chapter littered with filth, obviously LOL. i have so many thoughts and so many little scenarios planned out in my head already... these three have me in a chokehold.

i need to make proper intro/drabble posts like these for my other aus too aghhh it just takes so longggg because i get carried away with the drabble and then i have to find the perfect clips for edits and the perfect pics to tie it all together and suddenly i've spent half a day on one post but. someday <3 leaving!bikeriders au next surely! thx for reading hope u enjoy this version of the boys and hopefully i'll have time to write it soon!

all posts about this au will be under #curtbuckbucky nightclub au :-)

#curtbuckbucky nightclub au #johnslittlespoon aus #i'm going fr insane over this actually tweaking #i hope my vision is seen. will happily elaborate (too much)#is this essentially femboy!curt? perhaps. can you blame me tho have u seen 2012 barry how can we *not* want him in pretty skirts and makeup #not my strongest drabble ik but it's more of an au info dump :)#where my girlboy!barry enjoyers at bc this ones for us fr #the edit song is an unreleased one by artemas btw </3 #and i lit rally could not find any good club–esque clips from any callum movies to use so just pretend he's not in his pilot uniform LOL #curtbuckbucky #curtgalejohn #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon edits

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