#no it's fine i'm not losing my grip on reality at all

[bruhstories]

change

summary: you and eren have been friends since forever. you also loved eren since forever. but eren is always bored, until he finally finds something worth changing for pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader, mentioned eren x mikasa w/c: 4.6k warnings & content: toxic!eren (for the most part. man's got a god complex, okay?), female bodied reader, weed smoking, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected p in v sex, angst, fluff

a/n: not me coming back from the dead with this rubbish but hey, beats not writing at all i suppose

"I'm bored." 

Eren laid on his back, one hand under his head, the other holding the meticulously rolled spliff.

"Do you wanna play a video game?" You suggested, watching him blow rings of smoke. "I can beat you at Mortal Kombat again."

He snorted at your audacity before passing you the joint. 

"I mean I'm bored of my life. Nothing exciting ever happens." Eren sighed. He was tired of the same routine of waking up, checking Tinder, going to work, hooking up with some random girl, going to bed — rinse and repeat.

You liked routine. You flourished when you had a routine. Not that you were bothered by the occasional spontaneity, but routine could very well be your middle name.

"Change something, then. Change your job. Or even better, get a girlfriend." Your tone wasn't pleasant. 

"Who's gonna split the rent with you, then?" He sat up, taking the spliff from your fingers.

"Hey, I wasn't done-"

"You snooze, you lose, babe." Eren took one long drag before exhaling the smoke into your face.

Babe. 

You hated when he used pet names on you. It gave you a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he liked you back. But that was impossible. Eren didn't do relationships, he fucked. You knew that damn well when you could hear him through the walls of your flat almost every night. You felt bad for every single girl who thought they could change him. But you knew him better. You knew he would never change.

"I told you to not call me that." You leaned forward to take your spliff back, but Eren put his hand up. "Really, are you going to be a child now?" You pressed a hand on his knee to reach his fingers. 

"You didn't earn it." He shrugged, pushing you back.

"I rolled it, fuckface! Give it back!" You struggled, but Eren was bigger and stronger. 

"Fine." He smacked your hands out of his way and gripped your chin, fingers digging into your skin. "Open up." 

Even if you tried to keep your mouth closed, the force of his fingers parted your lips open. You could feel your cheeks heating up when Eren took a drag and blew the thick smoke into your mouth, his lips merely inches away from yours.

You hated him. No, you hated how he made you feel, how insignificant you were compared to him.

Despite always barking back at him, always getting into arguments, always beating him at Mortal Kombat, the reality was that you always gave in. If Eren told you to strip, you would. If Eren told you to suck his cock, you would. If Eren told you to jump off a cliff, you would. Not because he forced or manipulated you, but because you wanted to.

You were willing to give him everything, and he would take it all.

"Good girl." Eren sneered at your attempt to hide your face. It amused him.

"Fuck off, yeah?" 

"You know what would make my life less boring?" He clicked his tongue. 

"Enlighten me." You rolled your eyes.

"Fucking you."

Your lips parted but no sounds came out of your mouth. Those were words you wanted to hear since you were a teenager, since you first realised you liked him. Since you were 15. Ten years ago.

And the urge to surrender was growing stronger than your will to be dignified and respectable. Much stronger. 

"Eren, stop fucking about." You decided not to play his game. "Just because you're bored doesn't mean you have the right to, what, fuck me? Grow up, you're 25."

There, you told him off. Surely he would be mature enough to understand and respect your wishes. Only, you didn't give him a definitive no. And if Eren couldn't get what he wanted, he would take it.

His fingers ghosted over your shoulder, tugging at the strap of your tank top. You could've smacked his hand away, could've left the room. But you didn't, because you wanted him to convince you. You wanted to make him work for you, to earn you.

Eren didn't say anything, just toyed with the strap, lowering it down your arm. Bad time to not wear a bra, because from the way you were sat, he could perfectly watch the way your nipples protrude through the thin fabric of your top. 

You couldn't lie to yourself — you never wore a bra around Eren, unless you had just come from work. Desperation was written all over your face, every day, every minute of your miserable life, and living with him did not make things any better, it only made them worse. The only two reasons you agreed to be roommates were simple — you were poor and you were in love. You needed someone to split bills and rent with, and you hoped that living with Eren would make him have an epiphany about how much he loved you and wanted to be with you.

Boy, were you wrong.

Yet when he tugged at your strap harder, hooked his index finger and pulled it all down, you did not protest. You did, however, in one final attempt to maintain your dignity, cross your hands over your chest to cover your bare breasts.

He smiled — no, he sneered at how pathetic you were, because if there was one entertaining thing in Eren's boring life, it was how much you tried to fight your feelings for him. 

As if he didn't know. As if you thought he didn't know.

"Have you always been this cute?" His words disrupted your embarrassment, but you knew how foul he was, telling you what you wanted to hear. 

"Eren…" You trailed off, still covering your chest, still hiding your face. "Don't. Don't play with me. Don't say things you know will… hurt me."

"Hurt you?" He cocked a brow at you, almost convincing you that he was confused. "But, I'm giving you what you want, and you'll be giving me what I want."

The sudden realisation that Eren knew all this time how in love you were with him had you burst into tears. Not hysterical crying, heavy breathing or loud sobs, no. Just tear after tear after tear, rolling down your cheeks, down your lips, down your chin, as you cried with no noise. 

He felt bad. He really did.

It's not that he didn't care about you, God, no. Eren loved you — in his own way. He wasn't the type of man to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, cuddle you at night. But he showed his love in other ways — he took days off when you were sick, drove you anywhere and everywhere you wanted, ordered food almost every day. You always assumed he did that because you were friends, because you went way back. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry." His thumb grazed over your bottom lip. "Cross my heart and hope to die." Eren told you when he saw the condescending look on your face.

"For how long have you known?" You turned your head away and pulled your top back up.

He clicked his tongue. Eren wasn't in the mood to talk, he was in the mood to fuck. But you were not about to give yourself to him just yet.

"Long enough." He stubbed whatever was left of the spliff and pulled his legs under him in a lotus position. 

"Jesus Christ. And you enjoyed every bit of it, didn't you?" Venom dripped down your tongue. You watched him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. "You thrived on watching me be a fool. For fuck's sake, you moved in with me!"

"It's not like that." His voice was calm, but you could see him getting angry.

He'd changed. When he was a teenager he would show how angry he was. Everyone had to know Eren was fuming. But now? Now he was just calm, quietly imagining how he'd rip someone's heart out and eat it.

"It's not like that." You repeated, tone mocking him. "Pray tell, then, Eren, how it is. Because frankly I'm getting tired."

He rolled his eyes at you, and that only irked you more. You wanted to scream at him, to slap him, to make him understand just how much you wanted him.

"We both know why I didn't say anything, Y/N."

Oh.

Of course.

How could you be so stupid to think he ever reciprocated your feelings?

Silly you.

"Wow, I- no. This has to end." You punched the nearest wall, knuckles cracking at the impact. "Fuck!"

"Are you hurt-"

"Fuck you. I really thought I could get over it, you know? But it's been ten years! Ten years of my life wasted because I love you!" Your eyes widened and you brought a hand over your mouth.

Never have you imagined this was how you'd confess your feelings. 

You always thought it would be when Eren would be vulnerable, or perhaps when he would've realised he liked you. But not like this. Never like this.

"Oh, say it again." He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. 

You couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, so when he opened his eyes, all he could see was you, angry, upset, confused.

Eren got up and closed the distance between the two of you. His lips touched your knuckles, his hand holding yours. 

"Say it again." He urged you, his emerald eyes burning holes into your own pupils.

"I… love you." Your voice was dying with each syllable, and you could feel your eyes getting wet with tears once more. 

"Again."

"Eren…"

"Please." He pulled you by the waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

There were plenty of mixed signals coming from him, and he was a walking red flag. But you couldn't hold back, not anymore.

"I love you."

Eren wasn't bored of his life. Those three words made him realise that. He didn't need something exciting to happen, no. He needed someone who would dedicate their heart to him. He needed you.

"I don't think I could get tired of hearing this." His breath tickled your skin.

"Eren, please, I can't do this. Not when you don't even like me back." You tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip around your waist. 

"Oh, I like you. Just not how you expect me to." Eren pulled back enough to look into your eyes. "I'm not gonna take you on dates. I'm not gonna buy you flowers. I'm not gonna hold the door open for you." He admitted. 

"That's… alright." It wasn't. 

But if it meant you got to have a small piece of him, you were willing to ruin the rest of your life for him.

His hand slid under your top, but you were too far gone to protest. 

Once you confessed your feelings, you were his.

Your feet followed Eren as he dragged you to the bed. He sat you down, or better yet, he pushed you onto the mattress, and as you fell, so did your dignity and principles. Your embarrassment quickly turned into eagerness, because in that moment, you believed you'd never have another opportunity like this, even if it meant ruining your friendship, and potentially, the rest of your life.

Eren hovered over your body, and you tugged the waistband of his gray sweatpants, making him lean closer.

"Can I kiss you?" Your voice was timid and quiet.

"You can do more than that with that pretty mouth of yours." His confidence made your cheeks burn. He always made your body temperature rise, but this felt like a genuine fever dream. A good one. 

"Eren!" You squealed at his words, but before you knew it, his lips pressed onto yours, hot and needy. That was the uncontested truth — Eren needed you. Not some random girl who was eager to fuck him because of his undoubtedly good looks, but someone who would worship him like a king, a god. And you did that, in your own special way.

There was a time when Mikasa was like that, obsessed with Eren and eager to please him. But the difference was that, to him, Mikasa was mindless. Like a puppet on a string. She wouldn't contest his wishes, and gave up so easily. And Eren didn't want that. He wanted someone to be by his side because they saw eye to eye. Because you believed in his ideas and in him. Mikasa just wanted him. She didn't give two shits on what Eren thought, she would follow him anyway.

But you were like him. There was passion in your eyes and a fire in your heart, and Eren knew that. You preferred to not show that, giving your friends only optimism and kindness. He knew better. He knew the darkness in your soul. He knew you were the only one who could understand him. It only took him ten years to bring that to the surface. 

His mouth was on your neck, kissing, sucking and biting your skin, and your fingers were tangled in his disheveled hair, tugging at it with each wave of electricity running through your veins. Every time he touched you, it felt like you stuck your fingers in a socket.

"Need to feel you." Eren mumbled, one hand traveling down your chest, then your abdomen, sliding under your leggings and panties. "Fuck, you're so wet." He was dumbfounded at the effect he had on your body when his fingers pushed into your sloppy cunt.

For a brief moment, you regretted not being a virgin. You had hoped Eren would be your first, but back when you lost your virginity, you thought he would never want you, so you had a short relationship with some guy who fucked you pretty badly. Since then, you barely had any sex.

His thumb grazed over your swollen clit, and you instinctively arched your back, hitting your forehead against his. Clearly, you lacked experience. 

"Ren, I'm sorry-"

"It's alright." He took your hand and guided it to his cock. "You can make up for it."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked away, only for him to squeeze your wrist. 

"Look at me."

You nodded, palming his bulge through the fabric of his sweatpants. He relaxed, letting go of your wrist and untying the string of his waistband.

Adrenaline and fear fogged your brain. It all still felt so unreal, and part of you was scared you couldn't take him all. The other part wanted him to ruin you.

Eren pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor, leaving your cunt needy and alone.

"Go on." He urged you after seeing the lust and fear in your eyes. "I know you want it."

You sighed at the lack of gentleness, but you couldn't deny the obvious truth. 

Your manicured fingernails snatched the waistband and pulled it down, not caring about foreplay anymore. You've had enough foreplay in the past ten years. 

The sight of his cock made your mouth water, like some kind of rabid dog, but you didn't give a shit anymore. You didn't care if he saw you as a piece of meat, a toy or a puppet.

"I-" Words could not come out of your mouth. He was just stunning, with his toned body and his hair falling down his beautiful face. Shit, maybe he was a god.

"Well?" Eren snapped, impatient and irritated at the lack of reaction. You did react, just not like he expected you to.

Curious and confused, you reluctantly shifted your position, bringing your face closer to him. After pondering your next move, you parted your lips open and stuck your tongue out, dragging it up his shaft. 

"You can do better." He fisted your hair and pulled your head back. "You will do better, yeah?"

"Yes-" You stopped talking when he pushed his cock into your mouth, effectively forcing you to take as much of his length as possible.

The tears pooling at the corners of your eyes weren't from pain, nor the lack of air, but from pure ecstasy and joy. Finally, you were granted what you were longing for so long. 

You worked hard for Eren, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his cock. You didn't think your mouth could produce so much spit, but it did, and it dribbled down your chin, down his shaft, mixed with his delicious precum. Your lips were just so swollen you thought they went numb.

When Eren got tired of watching you struggle to breathe, he pulled your head back, allowing you to inhale as much air as possible. His fingers wrapped around your neck as he bent down to kiss you.

"Shit." He pulled back. "I taste good."

He was so full of himself, so vain and narcissistic that it made you want to hate him. But you couldn't lie to yourself — you loved every bit of him.

"Eren, please." You reminded him that you also needed attention by squeezing his hand.

He looked down on you, as if he were insulted by your audacity to speak.

"What? You want something?" He palmed his cock, slowly stroking it up and down.

You nodded.

"Show me, then."

Another sigh escaped past your lips. You should've known he'd make you work. He wouldn't just give you what you wanted so easily. 

Pulling your leggings down and letting them fall off the bed, you gently laid back on the mattress. Eren watched your every move, judging every single gesture, and so far, he seemed pleased. He seemed especially pleased when your hands reached your panties, tugging them and eventually pulling them down. You laid there, half naked and awkward. 

"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" His voice was condescending. "Earn it, you filthy whore." Now he was impatient. 

Never had he called you a whore before. You didn't mind it, you just didn't expect it. And you didn't know what to do, either. After a few seconds of silence and deep thinking, you bit your lower lip and spread your legs. Unmoved by your attempt, Eren just kept on pumping his cock, seemingly enjoying himself more.

Fine, you'd try harder.

Your hand slowly traveled up your thigh until it reached your cunt, and your fingers gently rubbed circles against your clit. His eyes didn't leave your body. That was what he wanted, but it was still not enough. 

"Ren- oh, please-" Your breath hitched when arched your back. "Need you, please!"

"Need me to what? Say it, otherwise you won't be getting shit from me."

Did he have to humiliate you like that? Was it not enough that you just professed your love to him? Did he have to take everything from you?

The answer was yes, and you knew it all too well.

"Don't wanna say it…" You tried to fight your instincts.

"Is that so? Fuck yourself, then." He was dead serious. 

"No, wait!" You sat up, fingernails digging into his arms. "Please!"

Eren tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek with one hand. Despite how tender his gesture was, you knew his words would be cruel.

"Give yourself to me. All of you."

Something snapped inside your brain. He didn't have to tease you for you to want him. He didn't need to kiss you and make you melt. He knew exactly which buttons to push to break his toy.

"Take me, then!" You begged him. "Kiss me, fuck me, kill me if you want!"

Even Eren was shocked to see how much power he had over you. Power he would obviously abuse in the future. Sure, you could have said those things in the heat of the moment, said them to get what you wanted, but it wasn't just sheer lust — you were willing to let Eren ruin you.

You did ask nicely, and how could he not grant your wish?

His dark locks tickled your face when he leaned in to kiss you in what was, perhaps, the most animalistic kiss you've ever had. Oh, and you were putty in his hands, kissing him back, fisting his hair to pull him impossibly closer to you.

With your legs spread open for him, Eren pushed his cock into your needy cunt, and although he tried not to hurt you, he couldn't hide his eagerness to just fuck you already. Inch by inch, you rolled your eyes in both pleasure and pain — it's been a while since you got laid. Your fingernails raked up and down his back, leaving red marks all over his perfect skin, and you could tell he enjoyed it by his guttural growls and grunts.

"God, you're so tight." Eren bottomed out, allowing you to adjust to his size. 

Oh, and you adjusted, alright. He filled you up, both physically and emotionally, and no longer was there a void in your heart. He was your missing piece, but you weren't so sure if you were his.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his back, you looked him in the eyes without a shred of shame.

"Please, Eren, please fuck me! I've waited so long-" You choked on your own words when his hips began to roll painstakingly slowly. But you loved every bit of it, so much so that you sunk your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans.

Eren wouldn't have that, of course. He had to hear you. He heard you every night, when you thought you were quietly fucking yourself, it was only natural he wanted to hear you when he was the one balls deep inside of you.

The sound of his name on your lips was divine, like a devout subject praying to her god. Because that was Eren to you — a god.

Your lips were swollen from all his devouring kisses, and you were sure he left a few bruises on your body after how hard he pinched and squeezed the plush of your hips, but you didn't care. You belonged to him, after all.

"Harder, fuck me harder!" You begged him. It's not that you wanted to finish, God no. You wanted this moment to last forever. But you needed to feel him more.

Eren pulled out, despite your request, only to flip you over and thrust back into your cunt. You've never tried that position before with other men. You believed that it was filthy and humiliating to get fucked from behind. And you were right, you felt like nothing but a piece of meat. But it also felt good.

"Hard enough, you little slut?" He whispered into your ear, the words sending chills down your spine. Who knew you would enjoy being called awful names?

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" You arched your back, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall echoing in your room. Your poor neighbours. 

"Has anyone else fucked you like this before?" Eren fisted your hair, pulling your head back.

"N-no!" You cried out, feeling your thighs quiver. 

"Good." He let go of your hair, only to bring an arm around your neck, practically holding you in a headlock. "And no one's ever gonna fuck you like this, but me, yeah?"

"Y-you, only you!" 

"That's right." He let go of you, instead focusing his hands on your hips. "You're mine."

It was comforting to hear those words, because you knew that was how Eren expressed his feelings — violently. 

There was no romance with Eren, only chaos and violence, and you loved him just like that. 

Then you felt it — his frantic thrusts, the stuttering pace, his fingers almost ripping the skin off your hips — he was close, and so were you. 

"Eren! I'm gonna finish-"

"I know, love."

That was enough to send you over the edge, your walls tightening around his cock, and pleasure engulfing your entire body. Your limbs were numb by the time you reached your climax, and you were too tired to tell him not to finish inside of you. But Eren wasn't an idiot. Despite his violent urges, he didn't want to hurt you. Not emotionally, at least. He pulled out on time, you knew that when you felt something hot and thick on your lower back.

You could hear him walk out of the room and then back in, and in your daze, you tried to prop yourself on your elbows and look up.

"Don't move." Eren told you, and his voice had drastically changed — soft and soothing. "You don't want cum leaking on your bedsheets."

"Need to wash 'em anyway." You groaned, coming down from your high. 

"Tomorrow." He said, gently wiping your back with tissues. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "Still bored?" You teased him, but you knew things would go back to normal tomorrow. Eren would go back to Tinder and you would go back to your routine.

"A little." Eren shrugged, and although you should have expected this answer, it still shattered your heart into a million pieces. "You know what would help?"

"What?" 

"If you would let me take you out on a date."

You were confused, and understandably so.

"Me?"

"No, the Pope. Go on a nice little date in the Vatican. Yes, you." He chuckled at his own joke.

But you were still confused.

"I thought you didn't do dates." You watched him toss the tissues in the bin and sit back down on your bed.

"Well, it's time for a change." He didn't look at you, instead focusing on one dot on the wall.

"Okay, but why? I mean, why me?"

"Don't, Y/N. Don't make me say it." Eren hoped that if he still stared at that dot, you would leave him alone.

"You made me say a lot of shit tonight, Jaeger. Why me?" You could feel your cheeks heat up again with anger.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you know why!" He crossed his arms like a child.

"No, I don't."

"Jesus, because I l-" Eren cleared his throat. "I luh-" he choked.

"Oh my God, just say it already!" 

"I love you, you crazy fucking bitch!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "There, I said it, happy?"

You were stunned, absolutely dumbfounded. Love? Eren loved you? How? Since when? There were tons of questions you wanted to ask him, but not a single word came out of your mouth. 

The silence was deafening, and you could hear your heart beating in your eardrums. So instead of saying anything, you scooted closer to him, cupping his face and turning his face towards you. Finally, he looked into your eyes, and you beamed at him. There was so much warmth in your smile that it moved him, and for the first time in a very long time, Eren smiled, too.

He pulled you into a soft embrace, his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting on your head. 

"Can I sleep with you?" Eren asked.

"Didn't you already do that?" You mocked him with a grin on your lips.

"Alright, fuck you too, then.” He chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Perhaps you had been wrong all along. Perhaps all of Eren’s arrogance and chaos was just a mask, something to hide how he truly felt. You knew he would never show his vulnerable side, but the fact that tonight he at least tried to do that meant that he could change. And tonight, for the first time, Eren not only felt loved, but he felt the need to show love.

It would take time and patience, but he could change. For you.

#eren jeager #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut

[pocketjoong]

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆noctem⋆˖⁺‧₊☽ 〘act 1, chapter 2〙

〘Synopsis〙『Your hatred of dragons is a hate born of witnessing their flames consume your village, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. The worst of all is the beast that haunts your dreams, the very dragon whose memory fuels a burning desire for revenge within you. But life has a way of unsettling even the most steadfast convictions. And when you stumble upon a truth that shatters the boundaries of your understanding, you begin to question the very essence of the world you live in.』

〘Pairing〙『Night Fury!Seonghwa x afab!Reader』

〘Genre〙『FANTASY, ACTION, SMUT』

〘Word Count〙『2.5k』

〘Chapter-specific Warnings〙『Based on How To Train Your Dragon. Canon-compliant violence. Mentions of dragons attacking the mc's village. Mentions of fire. Passing mention of injuries. MDNI.』

〘Banner Credits〙『@playmetheclassics』

please note: there will be NO taglist for this series

By the time you finish tending to the injuries of those who had been sent to the infirmary, the sun is rising in the distance. A weariness settles over you as you dress the wounds of the last person you have to tend to, and you look forward to the two weeks of peace after a dragon attack.

You rinse the grime and blood from your hands in the basin tucked in the corner before rushing out of the building. Relief washes over you at the sight of familiar figures at the edge of the cliff that overlooks the port. Even though they’re merely silhouettes against the morning light, you know each of them well enough to recognise them by their shadows.

As you move closer, you note that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Mingi, the village blacksmith, look battle-ravaged and tired. But they are watching the sunrise with content smiles. You approach them with a smile of your own, but you can’t help but scan their figures for any injuries that might need healing.

Amusement dances in your brother’s eyes at your worried expression, “I'm fine. Mostly unharmed save for a few small bruises and the soot lining my clothes.”

When you turn your focus to the others, you find them grinning back at you. “And you guys?”

“No open stitches or any new injuries. I told you I’d be careful,” Wooyoung declares, his tone light-hearted.

Mingi ruffles your hair while he offers his own reassurance, “I’m fine as well. I stuck to my workshop until the very end, only leaving when Yunho and Wooyoung needed assistance with the ballista.”

“Let’s go back home and get some rest. Wooyoung and I have a meeting to attend at the hall in a few hours,” Yunho says, leading you towards your home with a guiding hand on your shoulder. Mingi trails behind silently, waving in farewell before taking the dusty path to reach his house, which also doubles as his workshop.

You, Yunho, and Wooyoung share the house overlooking the village. All three of you moved here after losing your families to a brutal attack years ago. Despite being only a few months older than Wooyoung and barely a year older than you, Yunho seamlessly assumed the role of guardian for both of you. The weight he shouldered at the tender age of twelve, stepping into the shoes of a village leader after the tragedy, often made you feel bad for him. His duties far exceeded what any child should bear, but he bore them with a grace beyond his years.

The dream claws at your consciousness, a relentless reminder of the incident that tore through your family. You can handle the sympathetic looks of your fellow villagers, but the nightmares are another story. You hate them, for they persist, leaving you exhausted and weary even after a full night’s sleep.

You unlock the door, ushering the two males inside. As the door creaks open, the comfort of the space envelops you like a familiar embrace, and you can’t help the sigh of relief that leaves your lips.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You know you are dreaming, but the panic that grips your throat is a tangible force that twists your heart and leaves your hands shaking. It’s a suffocating reality that is too familiar, too hauntingly real.

Your surroundings are too hot, too bright, and suffused with smoke that blinds your vision. The orange flames dance menacingly in front of you, searing painfully against your skin. Your brain is screaming for you to do something, to move. But you are frozen in the face of danger and struggle to comprehend the unfolding nightmare.

There’s a presence beside you, but the ringing in your ears drowns their voice. Squinting through the smoke, urgency compels you to find an escape route. If you don’t move, you’ll be burnt to a crisp by the flames, and you won’t let a dragon be the reason you meet your end. 

There’s no time to waste, you realise when there’s a crash in the adjacent room. The sound is what finally jolts you into action, and without hesitation, you grab the person next to you and bolt towards safety.

The relief when you escape the fire all but vanishes as the sight in front of you changes, and you find Yunho trapped in the claws of a massive dragon. His desperate struggle mirrors the fear etched in his eyes. The image shakes you to your core. It’s new, and you know why you’re seeing this: every time Yunho is out fighting the dragons during an attack, you can’t help but worry about his safety.

There’s a beat of silence as if the world has stopped around you before you jump towards the creature holding him hostage. But you’re too late. You meet the ground with a crash while the dragon takes off, taking Yunho away from you.

You jolt awake, your heart pounding so hard that you feel it wants to escape your chest. You’re covered in cold sweat, and you feel it trail down your back. You gasp for air, for the relief that comes with your lungs being filled with oxygen. Instinctively, you look down to check your hands, half-expecting to find the remnants of blood and soot on them.

Dazed and disoriented, you rise, stumbling towards the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, you wince at your wide-eyed and tear-stained face. You’re breathing fast, too quick to be considered normal. Staring at your trembling hands, you run them beneath the water before splashing the cold substance on your face.

Feeling a presence next to you, you turn around to find your brother gazing at you worriedly. But before you can ease his worry, Wooyoung walks in through your bedroom door, which is now wide open courtesy of Yunho.

“Is everything okay?” Wooyoung breaks the silence, voice is still gravelly from sleep. You feel bad for waking them up and worrying them like this, but right now, all you can focus on is the raging panic inside of you. “I heard you screaming, Y/N.”

You blink; your throat definitely feels raw, but you can’t remember hearing yourself scream.

“I think it was a bad dream,” Yunho mutters softly, eyes still trained on you.

Dream?

It’s almost as if everything falls into place when you hear Yunho’s words. You had the nightmare once again, the same one you had had since you lost your family during an attack when you were ten years old. With clammy hands, you tightly grip the bedside table in a futile attempt to steady yourself. Stumbling, you crash onto the floor as you try to calm your furiously beating heart.

Yunho scrambles to kneel next to you, brows furrowed in worry. “Y/N, breathe with me, c’mon. ’S okay, you’re safe.” You let him tuck you into his chest, the touch becoming an anchor to help you ground yourself. You breathe deeply, timing your breaths in tandem with Yunho’s. You remind yourself over and over again that he’s safe and sound.

“Was it the same dream?” Wooyoung’s voice is closer now, and you open your eyes to see him in front of you. You shrug as an answer to Wooyoung’s question.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you whisper apologetically, but they quickly shush you.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Wooyoung murmurs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as if he already knows your answer, “Or would you like to help me with lunch?”

“Brunch,” you declare, carefully disentangling yourself from Yunho, who has fallen asleep. Little snores leave his mouth, and you suppress a giggle. You grab a pillow from your bed, gently supporting his neck to ensure he sleeps comfortably even if he’s on the floor.  Quietly, you follow Wooyoung into the kitchen.

“What are we making?” You question, standing in the middle of the room while Wooyoung rummages through the cupboards.

“How do omelettes and buttered toast sound? Yunho bought bread from the village baker last evening, and I’m sure we haven’t run out of the jam we prepared,” he stops his hunt and starts gathering the things needed for the proposed meal.

“We also have some leftover meat pie,” you inform him, fishing out the pie from the pantry and setting it on the table. Grabbing a large bowl, you crack some eggs while Wooyoung chops the vegetables, the two of you falling into rhythm easily.

Wooyoung reaches over to add the chopped vegetables to the bowl, stirring them with the eggs as you place two pans on the stove. Soon, you have two omelettes sizzling in unison. Carefully, you add different spices and ingredients to each one based on your individual preferences. Spotting extra vegetables, you throw them in a pan to sauté them while Wooyoung handles the omelettes.

“Wow,” Yunho walks into the kitchen, drawn in by the aroma of food. He peeks over your shoulders. “That’s a feast right there.”

Eventually, you and Wooyoung finish cooking and carry everything to the table with Yunho's assistance. The three of you happily devour the food, joking, teasing, and laughing between bites.

“I have to go into the forest to gather more herbs. It’s amazing how fast we burn through them after the attacks,” you sigh, already tired by the mere thought of having to haul a huge batch of herbs from the forest.

“Be careful,” Yunho warns you. “The forest is safe right now, but you can’t be careful enough.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure with a smile. “I’ve done this so many times.”

After bidding goodbye to the two males, you follow one of the trails behind your house that leads into the forest. You hum a small tune as you walk through the woods. Despite the village being attacked every fortnight, the forest is safe because the dragons avoid lingering for fear of getting captured. The chirping birds and the small animals frolicking around in the undergrowth lift your spirits. You take a deep breath, unable to stop yourself from breaking into a smile.

The sound of a nearby waterfall catches your attention, prompting you to change course towards the opening through the trees. However, you halt in your tracks when you spot broken trees and upturned earth, suggesting that something came barreling down from the sky.

The only thing that would crash down from the sky is a dragon.

Unsheathing your shortsword, you slowly approach an outgrown rock where the wreckage seems the worst. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before peeking to check if you’re right, only to hide behind the rock once again quickly. There, on the other side, is a dragon you’ve never seen before.

It doesn’t take a genius to identify it as a Night Fury, also known as ‘the offspring of lightning and death itself.’ The beast’s scales are pitch black, adorned with small horns that spike from above its eyes, down its neck, back, and tail, the tip of which fans out like that of a whale. Surprisingly, it doesn’t look as terrifying as its reputation suggests, resembling more of a feline than a vicious reptile. For being a dragon dreaded across the seven seas, the beast looks tamer than the ones you’ve come across over the course of your life.

Peeking from behind the rock again, you realise the dragon is tangled in rope. There are signs of struggle, showing that it tried but failed to free itself from the binds. As it seems to be asleep, you approach cautiously, awed by the sheer size of the creature. The dragon likely hears you because, even though it can’t move, one of its eyes opens, fixing a stare at you. It releases a warning growl when you move even closer, but you scoff, knowing fully well that it won’t be able to harm you.

“You know, you really look more like a cat than a dragon,” your tone is belittling as you tilt your head to meet the dragon’s gaze head-on.

The dragon emits what seems like a scoff, earning an eye-roll from you. “You should be nicer to me. After all, I could kill you, and then what would happen, huh?  Your little family would find it harder and harder to attack us, considering that you’re the one who makes it difficult for us to bring down the rest of your kind.”

It hits you that this would be your first dragon kill, and for some reason, it gives you a sense of satisfaction. Eliminating the Night Fury is a step closer towards your goal to avenge your family and the countless others who were destroyed by these beasts.

Raising your blade, you look down at the beast with a blank expression. The dragon gazes at you with big, pleading eyes, its pupils round and sparkly like that of a cat. Your grip on the weapon falters, and sensing your hesitation, it lets out the most pathetic of whimpers.

“You have some nerve, really,” you sigh, the urge to harm the creature gradually ebbs away the longer you look into its eyes. It’s a living, breathing creature, and it goes against all your ideals as a healer to kill a sentient being. “First, your kind kills my family, then you guys literally cause so much damage to my village every time you attack, and here I am, wanting to spare you? Why can’t you be as ugly as a Gronckle?”

The dragon blinks at you in confusion.

“Stop looking at me like that!” You scold it, only causing the dragon to huff, this time in amusement. Sensing that you’re not going to kill it, the beast lets out another whine and closes its eyes.

Sighing once again, you use your sword to cut through the ropes, loosening the bonds that bind the poor creature. That is your second mistake because the moment it is free, the dragon lunges at you, pinning you against the rock as you gasp in shock. It growls at you, keeping you restrained with its claws.

“Oh, isn’t that just lovely?” you mock the dragon. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you can’t stop taunting it. “I save your sorry life, and you thank me by pinning me to a rock? Quite the peculiar way to express gratitude, I must say… and quite kinky.”

The beast regards you with a look of sheer disbelief, scoffs dismissively, and turns around to fly further into the forest. Only when it crashes into an outcrop of rocks, do you notice the unsteadiness of its flight.

Is it injured?

Your brows furrow as a pang of worry pierces through your heart, but before you can act on it, the realisation of how late it it dawns upon you. You haven’t even started collecting the herbs you had ventured into the forest for. Deciding to return tomorrow to check on the dragon, should it still be around, you start the laborious task of gathering the herbs you need.

#cromernet #k-labels #wonderlandnet #kvanity #cultofdionysusnet #outlaw/noctem #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa reactions #seonghwa headcanons #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #seonghwa smut

[darylsfavoritegirl]

hey pookies

Summary: Yall remember that episode where Daryl and Beth stay in this cabin after losing the prison (season 4, ep 12 to be exact) and thet play games like i have never.... and spend such a quality time and it's one of my fav episodes EVER! so it's fem!reader and Daryl but they play truth and dare and sort of open up about their feeling towards eachother because they're again friends with benefits lmao but it gets tense somehow👀😭😭 they find themselves in the midst of an argument etc etc and it goes on

This was requested by @duffmckagansbandana but ive also been fantasizing about this idea forever!! kalp kalbe karsiymis eheheheh

Warnings: Daryl being a dick because he is drunk and kinda slutshames the reader. Daryl grips the reader's wrists and it kinda hurts (?) a little bit of suggestive content. mentions of domestic violence/abuse

You held a glass of moonshine that Daryl found when you entered the wooden cabin. You were observing him securing the cabin incase something would occur.

"Looks secured enough to me." You mumbled spiritlessly. You took a sip of your moonshine as Daryl turned to you with a weary gaze.

"Ya really think dis the best time to get hammered?" He uttered in an evident blaséd tone. You ignored his question as he went back to securing the walls, windows. You wanted him to join you, drink booze with you, speak with you. The glass in your hand got warm before you could even consider to drink one more.

You observed his biceps flexing as he was fixing a hole on the wall. He was finally done. He turned to you, took a deep breath. You could see the sweat droplets on his forehead. His sleeveles black tshirt had damp spots around the neckline.

"You went the extra mile there." You said, failing to hide the waggish smirk bearing your face. He didn't respond to your statement but you saw the curls of his lips going upward.

He sat across you on the floor. His eyes were glossy, faint. You smiled softly as you poured him some moonshine. He gaped at you, anticipating you to stop. It was moonshine after all, God knows how long it had been sitting in this junk.

"Hey slow down." He uttered thinking you were gonna gulp down it yourself.

You saw his eyes following your motions when you passed the glass of moonshine to him.

"What? It's for you."

He didn't look at the glass once, his eyes were fixated on you

"Someone's got to keep watch." He spoke

You rolled your eyes in a cheeky way.

"No harm in drinking one glass."

"Go on." you added. Your eyes were pointing the dusty glass that was infront of him.

He gave in. He put the glass near his nostrils, sniffing the drink before taking a sip.

"That's a real drink right there." You said in a jolly tone.

" 's warm." He grumbled. He enjoyed drinking with you. The way you looked so content only made him cheer inside.

"Meh tha's a drawback." You said. You were popeyed. He couldn't deduce the basis of your zeal, yet he didn't question it furtherly.

You two spent a few minutes there, studying the cabin, studying each other when you decided to come up with something.

"You up for playing truth or dare?" You said in a hush that only left Daryl with a confounded face.

"What? Like kids?" He tittered lightly.

"You got a better idea?" You said with a significance of rebelliousness in your voice. You glared at him, waiting for a response.

"I'm worried about the others too but we can't spend this time just stressing one another." You muttered, avoiding an eye contact with him as you looked down at your drink and tapped the glass with your index and middle fingers. It was the reality. You were worried about the others, maybe even too much. However the best thing you could do at the moment was to hope for their well-being until you and Daryl started looking for them. He must've read your mind, he always did.

"Fine. Yea go first." He mouthed. Your mood shifted into a cheerful one by with just 4 words coming from him. You leaned forward slightly.

"Truth or dare." You queried. He leered at you in a gloomy way. You knew he was gonna end up savoring the game, one way or another in spite of feeling childhish at that moment.

"Truth.'' His tone barely above whisper.

You both took a sip from your drinks consecutively whilst you went on a ride in your head to come up with something to ask.

"What was your first impression about me?" You asked, not being able to hide the eagerness in your voice.

His eyes watched you cautiously. His gaze shifted somewhere else, trying to reckon the first day you met. A subtle smirk appeared on his face.

"Thought yea wer' cocky. Too cocky, even." He scoffed softly. You both stayed in quietude to remember the very first day you encountered with eachother. You chuckled.

"That was my coping mechanism. Confidence."

"Cocky." He opposed you in a childish manner, his eyebrows furrowed lightly at you.

You leered at him for a minute. You knew he was also thinking the first days when they took you in. You were drawing too much attention to yourself, pretty much everyone thought you'd be dead in a fortnight, though you didn't.

You sighed. Neither of you enjoyed thinking about any day in prison, it ached you in deep down. Neither of you could envision what your next move should be, spending this time in a wooden cabin in the middle of the woods didn't make it any better. You were in the midst of a chaos and it felt as if all your efforts were in the aim of lightening your agony.

Daryl reached for the moonshine jar that was sitting near you. He started pouring himself another drink. He almost filled the glass to the brim, peeking at you clandestinely incase you'd tried to stop him. You caught his leer and softly shrugged your shoulders indicating that you didn't mind.

He leaned against the wall of the cabin as he grunted. He took a big sip from his drink. You heard his gulp, the booze going down from his gullet. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sound, maybe you chuckled a little more than necessary. Gosh, you were getting lit; you thought to yourself.

Daryl guzzled up his second drink in less than a minute and poured himself another.

"Easy." You managed to say between your slowly-fading chuckles.

"And it's your turn." You hinted.

"Truth." You uttered without him having to ask.

He clattered an "Ahh." sound between his sips to imply he was notioning for a question. His eyes were locked on the ceiling, thinking, you glimpsed at his narrow, blue eyes. His gaze met with yours.

" 'S there sumthing ya didn't tell me 'bout the person ya wer'?" You looked dumbfounded, not catching what he could've meant by that. He must've read you like an open book. He scoffed " 'Fore all dis. 'Fore the world went to shit."

You couldn't fathom his question. He knew so much about you. He knew about your family that you stopped seeing after you moved to USA. He knew about your favorite childhood cartoons. He knew about your days as a school girl. He knew how you ended up in Georgia. He knew so much about you. Although he had never been the type to corner you with your life before the apocalpyse, you acknowledged that there must've been a lot of things you didn't tell him whether it was due to your choice or you never felt the need to do so.

"Yes." You said in cynicism. He remained silent. It was rather explicit that he wanted to investigate more; that he wanted you to elaborate.

Yet, you didn't. If he wanted to know more about you, he should've asked you more bluntly. You didn't avoid his piercing gaze. You could feel your nerves and brain going number with your increasing sips from the moonshine.

"I'm pretty sure there are atleast dozens of things I haven't told you about the person I once were."

He echoed a nonchalant glare. You, once again remained silent. You knew he'd always turn into an impossible and preposterous person to read whenever drunk. You questioned yourself. You questioned if this was a good idea after all.

He sighed. His eyes were narrower than before. He is getting wasted, you thought to yourself. You shifted your position wretchedly, grabbing your drink with both hands. You tried to put a constrained smile on your face.

The silence was unbearable so you spoke up. Your voice was raucity.

"So truth or dare?" You asked.

He gazed at you with a piercing look. You played the game not more than 5 minutes and the air had already started to feel stuffy due to intensity between you two. You couldn't understand why.

"Truth." He grunted involuntarily. He was only playing the game to pass time, to investigate and even corner you. His gaze was stern. Your smile faded away lightly. You thought of asking something private, asking something that was just about you two. Before you could even debate on that idea, you uttered

"Have you ever seen me as someone more than this?" You got hot. The alcohol was hitting you. You couldn't think clear, you spoke before giving it a second thought. You could feel your cheeks blushing. Your cheeks would never blush out of embarrassment nor humiliation. They would always blush when you did something extra, futile, stupid.

You didn't need to elaborate it. He knew exactly what you meant. He knew you had been wondering if he ever thought of you more than an appealing teammate whom he'd share a warm bed now and then. He had asked similiar questions to himself, always leaving them unsettled. He didn't want to give in, ever. He had to have a demenour where he wouldn't let anyone get too close. That was Daryl. Those were the obstacles he'd build towards anybody. You lifted your head only to meet his blue eyes. Daryl spoke the second he locked his eyes on yours.

"Ain't much of a world to keep your mind busy with that kinda stuff." He grunted. You got even hotter inside of your head.

"So, no?" You gawked.

"Didn't say dat." He looked at you with blank eyes. He didn't even get defensive whilst you were going nuts and trying your hardest to not make it plain. It was the intoxication. You were never like this. It was safe to say you did care about his feelings but you weren't a fool. You knew exactly how he'd close up, how well he'd hide in his shell.

"OK. It's your turn." You huffed as you darted away your eyes. Your temper highly depended on booze at the moment. You didn't need him to think that your mind was way too preoccupied with his words, the words that came out of his mouth with such ease. You hated the power he had on you sometimes.

He grunted with vexation as he shifted his position and leaned against the wall a bit more. Daryl rested his elbows on his knees, swinging his glass that had a little drink left in it in a motion. He kept eyeing you, so did you.

It was apparent that you both were bored to death, yet no one put forward the idea to stop it.

"Ya ever think 'bout the old world?" He grunted.

You raised your head, his eyes were squinting right at you.

"Didn't say truth." You hissed.

"Ya ain't gon' say dare neither."

"Right." You mumbled. He was biting on his pinky's nail out of lack of interest.

"Don't do that." You said as you grimaced.

"Ya gon' answer?" He insisted, his brows were slightly furrowed as he, not surprisingly, kept biting on his finger nails.

This game was all about you two finding something to bicker. You sighed. You were not looking at him but you could feel his eyes roaming all over you.

"Sometimes."

"Wish I could go back to those times." You whispered looking at the floor. Daryl's face darkened. You knew his life before the fall wasn't the greatest and perhaps this new world of silence, isolation was a jackpot for him. You caught his leer. Both of you remained in serenity.

You took a sip from the moonshine and asked the first thing that came to your mind.

"OK Daryl. Have you ever stolen something? like something big?" You begged with wide eyes. Only his eyes made you question yourself and your foolish question.

He kept swinging the glass in a slow motion as he narrowed his eyes at you. He wasn't offended. He wasn't angry.

"Ya know I didn't." He remarked. You sensed a sense of sorrow in his eyes yet you didn't step back, you never could when you were drunk.

"That's what you told me." You spoke, emphasizing the word "told" as if you were making it obvious that you didn't believe him. You kept your wide-eyed gaze. An undertone of exhilaration was on the surface of your voice.

"And after all, we barely knew eachother when we talked about this, right?" Stupid you, still couldn't make out what his gaze could've meant.

"Maybe you weren't being honest." You uttered.

"Come on. You must've done something with Merle." You insisted.

His gaze never left yours. You drank too much, you lost your basic human decency. Yet he responded spiritlessly.

"Was bein' honest." You could perceive that was the moment he lost all his interest in the game.

"Ain't no reason not to be, Merle was an ass."

He sighed. Great, now you reminded him his dead brother; at a time like this, in a place like this. Your smile and exhilaration vanished. Drunk you was never stable, you sighed as you looked down at your drink.

You lifted your head only to see him getting up, throwing his glass to the floor only for it to shatter in pieces. You flinched and leered at the pieces. You couldn't dare to look to his side. He grabbed his crossbow on the broken wooden table, slunged it over his shoulder.

"Imma take the first watch. Rest." He demanded. He breathed out before he left the cabin. You stayed there, not being able to move an inch. It was like you froze. You leered at the pieces of glass on the floor once again

"Fuck me." You groaned. You exhaled audibly, looking around the cabin. That was the moment when it hit you, he was drunk; way too drunk. God knows how he was holding up outside.

You immediatly got up, going out of kilter. You had been sitting for a long time, your body was cramping and you kept hitting to the dusty tables and chairs that were sitting in the middle of the cabin. Your head was spinning. You sauntered towards the door, grabbed the door handle. It made a squeaking sound that left you scrunching your nose.

"Come inside." You quaked, not looking at him. You were exhausted, maybe from the moonshine or maybe you were just, exhausted.

" 'm fine." He grunted. His back was facing you.

"Your drunk as much as me." You huffed with withered eyes. You were leaning against the door frame, your hand still gripping the door handle lightly.

Daryl scoffed.

"Your actin' like a child." You muttered under your breath. The alcohol was getting the best of you. His back was still facing you.

You leered at his messy hair, his vest, his arms gripping the crossbow. He was swaying in a slow motion, resting his weight on his right leg now and then.

"Just hate tha' ya still think 'm sum kinda redneck asshole." He muttered. He sounded rather disappointed, fed up with this whole situation.

"I don't." You whispered. Your eyes were wide, you couldn't process his words. He remained silent, typical Daryl.

"Daryl, I don't." You hissed as you grabbed the side of his vest, forcing him to face you.

He looked at your face with blank, stern eyes. You couldn't recognize the Daryl you knew in him. He didn't change his position, gripping the crossbow firmly as ever.

You were getting sentimental at his demenour. Your eyes were getting watery, you couldn't find words to utter. Nothing changed in him, in his cold stern stare that would make you hate yourself. He could never hurt you, that's what you told yourself but even a gaze of his could make you shatter inside. He got too close to you to a point where you could smell the booze from his breath. Deliberately, he rested all of his weight on you, cornering you against the door frame. You couldn't breath. He leered at your eyes with his blue piercing eyes for a hot minute when he spoke

"Ya'd be crumblin' 'n all if I spoke to ya 'bout your past." He hissed.

His glare was fixated on you as he got inside of the cabin. You breathed out quickly and wiped a tear that was to fall down on your cheek and looked at the woods.

"What the hell does that supposed to mean Daryl?" You turned to him. He was going through his backpack.

"Think ya kno' what I mean." He mumbled under his breath.

He grabbed a canned food and sat on the edge of small ladder. He wasn't looking at you but your gaze was at his fingers trying to get the canned food open.

"What if I don't?" You said calmly but at alert, waiting for his respond.

"I dun' kno'. Sellin' yer body for attention. Ring any bell?" He snapped, lifting his head to meet with your gaze. You stood there with complete silence, trying to process his words. His voice was pretty tall, which made you flinch.

"That's really low Daryl." You scoffed. You weren't offended, you were just astonished that he'd bring up your past as a barmaiden to hurt you.

"Right." He mocked. He was still on the small ladder, trying to open the canned food. He sighed as he threw it to the floor. He got up, completely ignoring you.

"Atleast I wasn't drifting behind Merle's ass, doing whatever he'd told me to do." You barked. You had lost yourself. You didn't care what your words would mean to him.

He turned to you, his arms flexing due to his firm grip on his crossbow. He got closer to you, his face was reddening. You could see his vein on his neck throbbing, he wasn't taking his eyes off of you. He clenched his jaw, lowering his eyebrows and leering at you with narrowed eyes.

" 'S tha' what'ca think?" He fumed.

"That's what I know." You uttered as you pout your face. You ran your hands through your hair to take a deep breath.

"Ya know nothing." He barked. He wasn't blinking.

"You were nothing." You whispered. Your eyes were getting red. You could feel them sting. Your vision blurred. Yet his rage was full of spitefullness. He gritted his teeth

"Pickin' up lonely dudes to get 'em pay ya was sumthin'?"

"Sumthin' yer dam' proud." He shouted as he pointed his index finger right at you.

You swallowed slowly. You were not looking at him.

"Just leave me be." You managed to mumble between your shaky, shallow breaths.

"No, I ain't gon' do dat." He boomed. He threw his crossbow on the mattres you two incompetently tried to turn into a cozy bed. He got closer to you, immediatly grabbing your wrists with his hands.

You looked at his hands grabbing both of your wrists quakingly. You weren't sorrowful nor furious. You were affronted at his grip on your wrists that left you in discomfort and almost, pain. You raised your head to meet with his hard-nosed gaze. You shook your forearms fiercely several times, hoping he would free you but he didn't. How could he do this do to you? Out of all the things out there, he chose to grip both your wrists. That was something you'd always highlight when you'd talk about the abuse you had to go through back when you lived with your family. How your father would grip your wrists and squeeze them thightly until you'd feel like passing out. You always told him how small it made you feel, how worthless. Didn't he say "What a dick" referring to your father. Now there he was, doing the exact same thing. You wouldn't believe it.

"Can't run yer mouth now, can yea?" He spat out. His voice was growing taller and taller. You tried to get to your other wrist with one hand only he would not let you;

"Daryl, you're hurting me." You panted, quickly exhaling. Your chest was going up and down rapidly, leaving you all panicked and crumbling under his brawny, firm grip. You looked directly into his eyes, looking for mercy; hoping this night would end without either one of you dying. His hard-nosed gaze not shifting into a softer manner at all.

You were still numb from the moonshine, so many thoughts pondering your head. You wanted to kiss him, end whatever this was. You were highly influenced by booze. You didn't care. You wanted to kiss him. You didn't know what the outcome would be.

So you did, you got on your tiptoes; your bodies were already too close. You closed your eyes and kissed him harshly on the lips. His grip on your wrists loosened, you almost toppled onto him which he didn't let it happen.

His strong hands grabbed the both sides of your face, pressing his lips onto yours like he pleaded for more of you. It all happened so swiftly that he shoved you on the wall harshly. He waited for a split second, his lips brushing yours. You could smell the pungent odour of alcohol mingled with the smell of cigarattes you smoked earlier that day. You didn't care. You wanted all of him. He panted rapidly against your lips. You stayed like that for a moment, his hands flawlessly placed on the temples of your head; the only thing you could hear was eachother's shaky breaths. You pressed your lips onto him once again. A tear that you had been holding so long fell down your cheek, you didn't mind. It was a joyful tear. You were both taking eachother breaths away that left your heart ponding like crazy. He rested all of his body weight on you, which you didn't complain this time. You could feel him growing under his jeans.

Your hands reached the collar of his vest and helped him take it off. You grabbed his bare shoulders and digged your fingernails into them. His hands shifted to your waist from the sides of your face. There was that void feeling in your stomach once again. How small you were compared to him, how you were like an insect which he could've crashed with his fingertips seconds ago.

You gasped when his hands went under your t-shirt, grabbing your hips and waist and stroking your skin. It became a sloppy kiss but you both liked it. Your whole body curved into his body, small moans escaping your mouth. He started going down on your neck from your plumpy lips. Your grabbed a fistful of his hair gently with your right hand, softly pushing his head down on your neck as he kept pecking on your soft skin.

You made up.

FOOTNOTE

Why is it actually so awkward do write even a basic kissing scene. it was painful. idk much about this fanfic it was way better in my mind but idc

@duffmckagansbandana deserves some credits too!! we exchanged so many thoughts during this :))

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon one shot #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #twd imagine #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon gif #daryl dixon fanfiction #fanfic

[pearlywritings]

His little hero

synopsis: it was you who always saved him from nightmares, but it seems that another precious girl decided to take that role upon herself.

pairing and characters: (implied) Kaveh x fem!reader, your daughter

tw: established relationship, hurt/comfort, girldad!Kaveh, domestic moment

word count: 1.2k+ words

a/n: I am slowly coming back, and let’s say this small fic is the first step of me returning on my way of writing

"Dad!"

Kaveh jolts upright with a startled gasp, pink padparadscha eyes wide and chest heaving. Blood is thumping in his veins, in his head, in his throat, in his everywhere, turning the whole world in the sounds of his widely beating heart. He doesn't register how sweaty he is or how his frame is trembling - the veil of sleep is too thick to shake it off of his conscience.

"Dad?"

Oh, but he has to, he needs to fight it and get a hold on reality. Shaking his head and making the hair messier than before, the man in his late thirties turns to look to his side, only to be met with the same soft gem-like eyes, reflecting the light of a nightstand lamp. Wait, the lamp has been turned on? Or did he forget to switch it off in the evening, after he told his daughter, who sneaked into her parents' room and wormed her way to her father's side, many stories to lull her to sleep? And why is there such immeasurable worry on the surface of these pinkish pools, staring at him without blinking?

He wants to lift his hand to rub at his eyes, but realizes that two small hands of a five-years old have an almost death grip on his long fingers. What has frightened her so much? He is sure he didn't tell her any horror stories - he probably wouldn't have been able to fall asleep himself. Then what is it-

"Dad, what's wrong..?” It twists his heart, how sad and small she sounds. “I am scared… are you okay?"

She is scared..? Of him? Or…for him?

Shit.

"I'm fine," Archons, this tired and hoarse voice is so strange, yet painfully familiar to him. Kaveh turns to face her properly and reaches the free hand to gently cup her little cheek, fore and middle fingers smoothing her locks behind her ear. “I really am,” he tries to sound softer, leaning down and placing a kiss to her forehead, pushing his fears behind to comfort his sweet girl. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, don’t look so sad.”

“But…but you were crying…” her lower lip trembles and the man immediately brings her close to his chest, folding legs and settling her against them. Artistic fingers carefully adjust her cute flower-patterned pajama, smoothing the fabric and rubbing at her back intact with the rocking of the architect’s body. Lips press to the top of her head, sweetly murmuring words of reassurance and promises that he really is fine.

He wants to believe he is. After all, Kaveh has an amazing wife, a child - the most wonderful girl in the whole world, he has a stable well-paying job, a nice house he built for his little family, great friends (maybe just a little bit annoying at times), and everyone around him is happy. He is happy.

But sometimes… Sometimes he is so-so scared of losing it all. To not hear the laughter in tavern at the table his pals reserved, to not have a home to come back to, to once again struggle with providing for his loved ones, to not have this bundle of sunshine in his arms, calling him ‘dad’ and expressing her happiness through the brightest smile on her adorable face, to not kiss you good morning and good night while holding your hand and smoothing his thumb over the metal of a band wrapped around your finger.

He knows how easy it is to lose everything - it happened to him way too many times he’d like to admit. And now, when he has so many wonderful things all at once? He cannot stop thinking about it occasionally. The nightmare of such a kind shouldn’t be surprising, but must've it really come to him, when his daughter sought her dad's cuddles on a night when you went for a sleepover to your friend’s?

Kaveh sighs heavily, running a palm down his face, as if wiping the remnants of sleep and clinging worries, refocusing his gaze on a child in his lap. She sniffles a couple of times quietly, but doesn’t look like she is about to cry, though the man is fully prepared to comfort her. Instead, she bumps her forehead against his ribs, butting them.

“Do you miss mom?” He has to strain his ears to hear that, but he does. Running his digits through her silky locks, the architect hums, glancing at the photo of you three on his nightstand - it depicted the moment right after he sneaked behind you, lifting you bridal style, while your girl was in your arms. Ah, her and your smiles are the sunniest, and he knows you’d say that his is just as beaming.

“Of course I miss mom, baby.”

“Were you crying because of it?”

Ah… Of course she is still worried for him. It kind of reminds Kaveh of himself - though he was older and it was to his mom.

The sudden comparison makes him shudder.

May his daughter never experience the same thing.

“I don’t know, love. I had a nightmare, but I don’t remember much,” half-truth and half-lie. He might not remember the details, but he knows what caused it. “You saved me from it though. You know what it makes you?”

“I saved you?” She lifts her head and his heart melts at the sight of her eyes, widened in astonishment. “I really did?”

“Mhm, you did.”

“Am I… a hero?”

She is. Just like her mother.

“You are, little feather. The greatest hero, the conqueror of nightmares, the savior of dads!”

She giggles, hiding her face in his chest, turning bashful. He kisses the top of her head again, cuddling her small body into his, sensing how with every second spent in his daughter’s dazzling presence less and less fears remain in his heart and brain. She truly is a wonder. His and your wonder.

“I am like mom!” Oh, many would beg to differ, considering the stark resemblance the girl holds to her father, but Kaveh knows what she means. “You say mom saves you every day.”

“She does,” an almost dreamy sigh escapes him, “she really does. But even heroes sometimes get tired and have to restore their power. That is why mom is out today having fun with her friends, whom she hasn’t seen for a long time. As for the little heroes, they should sleep at night to grow into even mightier heroes. So why don’t we-”

“For how long?” The girl cuts him off, lifting her head again and glancing at the man with curiosity. “A day?”

“No,” he chuckles, realizing that’s going to take a while now to get her to sleep, “longer than that.”

“Hm… Two days?”

“No, it’s not like the weekend at school.”

“Three days!?”

This time he shakes his head, listening with a smile to how the number of days keeps growing along with the size of her eyes and opening mouth. It never seizes to amaze him how a simple conversation with her makes everything so much better. There is a slither of guilt about waking her up and worrying her so much with his state, but watching her play the guessing game eagerly only five minutes after she was ready to cry for him - soothes Kaveh.

Moving closer to the headboard and settling against it, the blond decides to entertain her more, until she is sleepy enough to get back to the dreamland. After all, even the little heroes need rest, and that’s the least he can do for his.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #kaveh #dad!kaveh #genshin impact fluff

[lovebeatriceplz]

My love mine all mine

Yuji Itadori x Reader

My baby, here on earth

Showed me what my heart was worth

So, when it comes to be my turn

Could you shine it down here for her?

Nothing was the same, he tried...so hard. He tried to forget about it, to fix it, but his life will never go back to normal. Sukuna, he could feel him, he was always there. Maybe..just maybe, if he was gone everyone would be better off, you would be better off.

A gentle stroke of his hair brings him back to reality. "i called your name three times" you say quietly. The pale moonlight peers through the drapes. He came over to spend the night to get away from himself, but his thoughts consumed him none the less.

"sorry.." he mutters, not even sure if you heard. You rest your head on the pillow and try to fall asleep. His arms wrap around your figure, burying his face into your stomach, maybe that way the voices will leave him alone.

You look down at him. His grip felt tight, tighter than usual, it actually hurt a little. Your fingers run through his soft, pink locs, causing him to shudder. "what's on your mind?" You ask as gently as possible, not wanting the worry accumulating inside of you to scare him.

Silence fills the room. You try to pull away, trying to pry him off you so you can see his face. His grip tightens, not budging.

A sigh escapes you, and you press kisses to the top of his head, and any part of his face you can reach. "I love you...i'll always love you, no matter what" whispers of pure love and devotion pass your lips and enter his mind. His body starts to shake a little and you feel a few teardrops hit your abdomen.

You try to pull away again but his grasp on you was stronger than ever. So tight, that bruises might actually appear on your sides the next day. "yu- you're squishing me" you croak out. He immediately lets go and you take the opportunity to hold his face before he can hide again.

Tending hands reach out to wipe away his tears. "i'm scared.." he whispers in a hoarse voice.

" scared of what love?" You were always so desperate to understand him, to understand what was going on in that head of his. "everything?" he replies with a shrug, pulling away from you. You didn't need to share his burden.

He just stares into nothing for the next few moments. Desperately trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He couldn't even look at you without choking up again, you were so perfect, you didn't deserve this.

A surge of purpose, or at least that's what you thought it was, takes control of him and he turns to you with an intense look in his eyes. His hands grasp yours and he rests his forehead on yours. "I love you, more than anything....and i just- i want you to know...well i hope-" he stops, getting his thoughts together.

A puzzled look flashes across your features. "yes? what is it?". He takes a deep breath. "when i die, i'm gonna watch over you, my ancestors too, no matter what happens to me you'll be fine" he whispers, resting his head on your shoulder.

You feel your heart sink. He impulsively said things like that all the time, but he looked so serious. This one, something's definitely off about it.

You pull away from his embrace "d-don't say things like that" voice wavering slightly. "We'll both be fine" you say firmly. He gives you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I mean- we can say that now but, my death is inevitable"

Tears sting the corners of your eyes and your chest begins to ache. "how could you say something like that yuji?" Your tone becomes a bit harsher.

A slight frown appears on his face, although his demeanor is very gentle. " you know this c'mon, my life is in danger everyday, they're people who still want to execute me, my teacher is sealed-"

" What? are you trying to ease the blow of me losing you? don't you think i know all of that already?" You cut him off. This took a swerve in the wrong direction, this wasn't supposed to happen.

"Yes! i'm aware that you know all of that, that's why i need you to understand" he's basically begging for you to just listen. "Are forgetting that he's inside of me, don't you remember what happened in Shibuya?". Oops

There it was, the thing that has been plaguing his mind all this time. He shuts up immediately, and his breathing becomes audible.

Nothing came out of your mouth because he was right. Sukuna has proven how everything can go to shit if he takes over, you could lose Yuji without him actually dying.

You want to console him but you start to cry instead. The sight of tears running down that pretty face was enough to make him feel sick.

"Hey...hey i'm sorry" he whispers. You bury yourself into his embrace, and he holds you tightly, resting his head on your chin. He wasn't even going to cry, he accepted his fate a long time ago.

Fingers dig into his hoodie as you look up at him. "I don't want to lose you" you say between sobs. He wipes away your tears and leans down to kiss you.

It's the type of kiss that made you feel warm all over, the type that made something stir deep inside of you. The type that made you feel like everything would be okay. He stays there until you calm down a little.

He pulls away, a little breathless. "you're the best thing that's ever happened to me" that sounds cliche but he meant it, he meant every word. He didn't want to see you cry, he was hurting you and he hasn't even died yet.

" I know you want to avoid it but we can't, it's inevitable, my life is..basically temporary...i'm temp-" a finger to his lips stops him from finishing that sentence. You lay back down, bringing him with you and your lips find his.

He doesn't protest and he melts into your touch. It's okay if you didn't want to talk, as long as you understood. Besides, it stopped him from going back to that dark place and drowning in his thoughts.

You haven't accepted it, you're not sure if you ever will but for his sake, you can pretend. You can also give him all your love now, you can show him why life is worth living while he still has it. You can show him that he's yours, and you're his.

Whether you accept what he thinks his future is or not, he believes that he will indeed, watch over you when he's gone.

#Spotify #This strayed so far from the original idea #WHOOPS #anyways #I feel like i use 'you' and yours' and 'He' wayy too much #yuji itadori #Yuji #itadori #yuji itadori hcs #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori x you #yuji itadori x y/n #yuji itadori jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fanfic #Yuji fanfic #jujustsu kaisen hcs #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #anime #anime x reader #anime x y/n #angst #sukuna ryomen #gojo saturo #drabble #yuji x female reader

[dancingtotuyo]

8. a cry of my heart to see

Woman | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Tragedy strikes Jackson

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: blood, medical care (probably bad I'm not a doctor tried to keep it brief and vague), Character Death, loss, grief, funeral, smut, P I V, cream pie, Oral sex (F receiving)

Notes: Shout out to my girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for the beta read!

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader!

Words: 3273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND IS INTENDED FOR READERS 18 YEARS AND OLDER. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT OR READ.

One Year Later 

He’s been out on patrol for days. They’re widening the perimeter and he’s on the initial team to do so. It’s nerve-wracking. You’re losing sleep. 

Maria tries to assure you they’re fine. No news is good news, but it falls on deaf ears. Her husband isn’t out there in unexplored areas. Joel is. Tommy tries to hide his worry. Despite both their assurances, you know they’re concerned. It’s risky.

For the most part, life goes on. Ellie has been staying in your guest room since Joel left. You thought she would look forward to having the house to herself, not that Joel doesn’t already spend the majority of nights at your house. You wonder if she fears the same thing you do. 

They’re supposed to be back in a week, but day 8 passes without sign of them. 

On the ninth day, one of the gate watchmen barrels into the clinic, causing you to knock over an entire bin of instruments you had just boiled. His eyes are wide, skin pale causing your stomach to drop. 

“What is it?”

“We just spotted them about a mile out. They’re down a rider. Another looks pretty banged up, can barely sit up in the saddle.” 

"Who?” You fight the urge to vomit. 

“We don’t know.”

“Go get Pooley.” The panic is setting in. You can’t do this. You can’t go into concerned girlfriend mode. Is that what you are? It doesn’t sound quite right. No, you need to be the medical professional you were taught to be. Calm, cool, collected like the professional you were on the UT Trauma team.

The man nods, rushing out of the clinic. You look around, pulling out everything you might need for easy access. You don’t know if he was mulled or shot or something else. This is hardly the first time something like this happened, but it’s the first time you haven’t been able to focus. 

It’s silly in hindsight, but you never worried quite like this over Gabe. He always promised to come back. He seemed so confident that he would that you’d bought into his confidence, and he always did until he didn’t. 

Once you’re convinced you’re set up enough to take care of the incoming injured, your feet carry you out toward the gate. It’s beautiful out today. The sun shines. Birds chirp and bees buzz. The kids play tag in the apple orchard, but it all feels like a bad dream like the world is moving in slow motion. There’s a ringing in your ears. 

The gate is just opening as the group draws closer. A small crowd has already formed, mostly the families of those sent out. You’re too far away to see out of the gate so you have to wait for them to file in. 

The first rider comes in. It’s not Joel. You can feel your grip on reality fading. You’re trying to stay. You have a job to do. Maria appears next to you as the second rider crosses in. She tugs you closer to the chaos, through the families waiting with bated breath. Two more. Not Joel. She brings you next to Dr. Pooley who waits ready to spring into action. People make room around you so you can tend to the injured as soon as they come in. 

Another pair cross into safety. John Lacy holds the reins of Adam Perkin’s horse as Adam hunches over in the saddle looking closer to death than life. John has them next to you within seconds, spewing the story of his injury to you and the doctor. You can’t pay attention, going on your tiptoes to catch sight of the last rider, but the horses block your view. The gate is closing now.

“Maria?” You look at her in desperation, pulled between the need to help and get status on Joel. 

She gives you a nod and dashes off to investigate further. 

Adam half rolls out of the saddle, in and out of consciousness before several strong sets of arms aid him to the ground. 

“Someone get the gurney!” A voice calls out as you fall to your knees beside the man. It’s your voice. Your body is taking over, but your brain is still elsewhere. The ringing in your ears grows louder. “Someone tell me what we’re looking at!” Your shaking hands rip the stained flannel and undershirt. They're already rags anyway. 

“Took a knife to the gut two days ago. Closed it up but it got infected and reopened on the way back,” John reports. 

“And you didn’t stop to close it back up?” You yell. 

“We had to drop the med bag.”

You groan in frustration. Dr. Pooley takes vital signs. Even in the haze you notice the signs that he’s over concentrating. His lips move to count Adams BPM and then he stops and starts over. 

“What do you have for me, Doc?” You’re desperate for help. Desperate for the old man to be able to do his job, but you see it in his face. He’s about to admit what you’ve assumed for months. 

“I don’t know,” he looks as lost as you feel right now, drowning in the panic of his own mortality. His own brain ceasing to work. You’ve seen the signs of dementia for months, and now the moment you need his help the most, he can’t think straight. You need his brain. You need to talk through this. 

“Gurney!” Someone yells, pushing toward you with the homemade gurney. It’s more of a litter you’d find in a medieval era movie, but it does the trick. 

They slam it to the ground, you don’t even have to let out the instructions before someone is counting and Adam is moved onto the stretcher. “Carefully!” You keep pressure on his wound, it’s definitely bleeding again. They must’ve missed something or it’s been bleeding internally all this time. Damnit! 

You’re almost to the clinic when you hear it, a life preserver in the raging ocean, Ellie’s voice. “JOEL!”

You turn to see her arms wrapped around his midsection, holding her as tight as she does to him. His eyes flicker to yours, and it’s like you snap back into your body with a thud, your mind crisp and clear. He smiles weakly your way and you can breathe again. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you. You’re pretty sure you’ve technically just performed a surgery you were in the room for once as a nurse 22 years ago. You probably missed most of the steps, but you know it was Adam’s only hope. Joyce Dobbins comes in with a poultice that’s supposed to help fight infection and “doctors him right up” as she likes to say. You don’t know enough to have an opinion. She’s the herbalist. 

You shower at the clinic, bones weary and eyelids drooping. Joyce knows enough to monitor him over night as does Rachel, Adam’s wife. 

You stumble home, the days events replaying on repeat in your head. The multiple times you thought you were going to lose Adam yet he somehow never faded. Lindsey’s never ending sobs from the backroom as she mourned Paul, you delivered their baby three years ago. Joel standing there giving you exactly what you needed so you could save a friend. 

Most of the time, it’s easy to ignore the dangers of the outside world while tucked within the walls of Jackson, your slice of normal in the world. Tonight is not one of them. 

You stumble up the porch stairs, anything but graceful as you cross the threshold. The house is quiet- no, peaceful. It’s an odd feeling compared to your raging mind. The house is clean, spotless. The orange glow of your living room lamp and the kitchen light warm you. Rumours spins in the corner, halfway through Songbird. You catch Joel in the kitchen wiping down the countertops. Your tea kettle whistles softly as he turns off the gas stove. 

“Joel…” your voice is hoarse. He spins around. He doesn’t smile, only walks toward you, pulling your limp frame into his as soon as he can. “I missed you,” you whisper. 

“I missed you too, Sweetheart.” His face burrows into the crook of your neck. 

“I thought…” you can’t finish the sentence without tears falling down your cheeks. He rocks you both softly. 

“Shhh, I know. I know.”

He kisses your head softly and then your lips. As much as you want to fall into bed, he forces you to eat something, drink the tea he’s brewed for you. You can barely sit upright, but you eat and drink and finally, he guides you upstairs, tucks you into bed, and curls up behind you. You fall asleep before he starts whispering sweet reassurances in your ear. 

You pull yourself out of bed earlier than you should. You have to go check in on Adam at the clinic. No news is good news. Anytime you’re not dragged out of bed after a day like yesterday, it’s a good thing. 

He’s not conscious but his fever is lower than it was when you left and that eases your worries some. Rachel doesn’t leave his bedside. 

Lindsey is in the backroom as they re- wrap Paul’s body. They’ll bury him today. He’s already been dead for three days. You take Lindsey’s hand without a word, standing solemn next to her. 

A hot tear marks your cheek as you watch Maria and Joyce diligently work. You were never awarded this luxury, could never gaze upon Gabe’s face one last time. Didn’t get to say goodbye. 

He has a tombstone in the cemetery. You don’t visit it often. He’s not there, his ashes spread to the wind now, rolling over the earth like invisible tumbleweeds. He probably likes that better anyway. 

The funeral is short, but all of Jackson crowds around for the service, to bury their fallen friend. Joel holds you close, arm wrapped around your waist. You lean heavy against him, gaining all your support from his frame. Carter and Ellie sit on the ground in front of you. 

When it’s time to lower Paul into the ground, Joel makes sure you’re steady on your feet before joining the rest of the patrol group. Adam is still unconscious in the clinic. They lower his body to the ground with precision that is too practiced. You wonder if he’s thinking of her, how he had to leave her body behind. He calls out her name at night sometimes. You know he’s reliving the night Sarah died. 

Lindsey’s cries start to pick up again. You slide onto the bench beside her, squeezing her hand tightly. Grace sits opposite you and Elaine stands behind. You don’t know Lindsey that well, but she’s joined your ranks now. Other women who have lost spouses close in around the grieving woman, a moment of solidarity. It’s a group that’s too large for your liking, too many lives taken. 

Joel holds your hand on the walk home. You keep walking, taking your path earlier than normal. You don’t speak, too many memories in your mind, too many emotions flooding your heart. 

You stop in at the clinic. Adam is in and out of consciousness. Joyce is giving him something for the pain. 

You cut your walk short, just one lap tonight. There’s a note on the door. Carter is at Maria and Tommy’s for a sleepover. You sigh in relief, thankful to not have to worry about another human being tonight.

Joel helps you out of your shoes. He helps you upstairs. His hands move slowly over you, half roaming, half massaging your weary muscles. He follows your collarbone and shucks the cardigan from your shoulders, frees you from your jeans leaving you in nothing but a tank top. It’s one of the few times his eyes don’t immediately land on your exposed crotch. He can’t help but chuckle at your commitment to not wearing underwear. 

Fingers delve into your tight calves. You let out a soft moan as you fall back into the mattress, sheets cool against your skin. 

Your eyes close, relishing in the feeling of him. This is the first real chance you’ve had to spend together since he got back. There’s nothing inherently sensual to his movements and the way he touches you, but your body heats in response, craving the connection, the assurance. 

The air shifts as your breath hitches. His fingers crawl up your legs leaving tiny trails of fire as he presses a kiss to each of your calves. Desire begins to burn in your body, slow and hot. “Joel…” You moan, legs falling open. 

“I know, Sweetheart,” He feels it too, voice low and thick as his eyes darken. “I know.”

Your hands tangle in his curls as he takes his time covering your thighs in kisses, swiping his tongue over your skin from time to time. “I’m here,” he says again. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

There’s no rush to the finish line, neither of you have the energy for that tonight. It’s slow, languid like a hike up a steep cliff as his mouth slowly greets your slick cunt, his tongue runs through your folds at a steady pace over and over and over and over. He’s pulling you closer to the edge, taking his time until finally, you cry out arching into his mouth, spilling more of yourself onto his tongue. 

He pulls away, chin glistening in your soft bedroom light, proud smile on his lips. “That’s my girl.” 

You whimper in response, hands traveling up his forearms. His calloused palms roam over your thighs and hip, fingers drawing soft patterns across your skin. 

Leading with his lips, he makes his way up your sternum. Not a drop of urgency in his body, he eases up your tank top. It’s like he has all the time in the world. You wish for all the time in the world as long as you get to spend it with him. 

Finally, his lips meet yours. You taste yourself on his lips as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your hands wander his shoulder and neck, your fingers glide through his hair again. Nails rake down his back. At some point he shed his shirt and pants, leaving him bare against you. 

“Lay on your back,” you say.

He pulls back slowly, eyebrows raised. “What are you thinking about?”

“Having you on your back.”

He chuckles, warm arms wrapping around your middle as he rolls over. You brace yourself on your knees. His hard cock presses against your thigh. You run it through your folds. Joel lets out a soft moan as his eyes glaze with lust. “Fuck, Sweetheart. Let me in there.”

“Patience,” you chide, but have no intention of keeping him waiting for long. 

You nudge his dick against your clit, sending sparks through your veins until you center your opening over him. He holds your hips as you slowly sink onto him. You stretch around him, filling you so completely. Once you’ve taken him to the hilt, you sit there, eyes focused on each other exchanging soft pants. 

Your cunt clenches around him, pulling moans from both of you, but you don’t move, hands finding purchase against his soft stomach, thumb running through his dark happy trail. The two of you bask in the feeling of your skin against the other’s, desperate for the certainty that you’re alive and breathing, that the blur you’re living in is reality and you still have each other. 

He cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your teeth scrape against it. Then you lift up just a little bit, keeping him mostly inside you before you sink back down. You keep the slow pace as you ease up and down, increasing the distance a little more each time.

 Joel’s eyes never move from you, sometimes meeting yours and other times appreciating your naked form above him. His hand trails down your torso, finding the wet heat of your core. He finds your clit with the precision only granted by his familiarity with your body. He has you memorized, every single inch of you. 

You let out a sharp gasp when he touches you. He holds his thumb steady against you, letting your movements drag his thumb across your clit. You clench around him and he groans. Up and down, your hands perched on his hairy chest, nails biting into his pecs.

 As you draw nearer to the peak, Joel starts to meet you, hitting a different angle inside of you. You let out a long moan, head tipping backward. Then you reach the crest, cunt milking his cock, coming undone on top of him. 

Sweat beads along Joel's forehead as your dripping pussy flutters around him. He’s not far behind you, filling you with his spend. The feel of him inside you, coating you, causes another breathy moan to leave your lips. 

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” He pants, pulling you down beside him, sweaty skin flush against his. 

You smile softly at him, brushing the curl in front of his forehead back. He kisses your palm. You should feel guilty for enjoying Joel’s comforts, his warm skin against yours when Lindsey lays in an empty bed across the way, but all you feel is relief. You’re grateful to be spared heartache for once. 

Eventually, Joel rolls out of bed, returning with a warm washcloth to clean up the mess he left behind. You’ve pulled on his white tshirt. You don’t say a word, just stare at him in the lamp light. He’s beautiful, a gentle giant, and he’s yours. 

When he crawls back beside you, he looks at you like he reads every thought in your mind, kisses your forehead, and turns out the lamp. You turn on your side. He spoons you, arm thrown over your waist. 

His soft snores start to play in your ears. The crease in his forehead is nonexistent with sleep as you look over your shoulder. Then, it hits you. You’re happy here with him despite the last 48 hours. It feels wrong, like you cheated death. You just hope it doesn’t come back to collect double, but you’re so damn happy. Joel Miller has permeated every single fiber of your being. 

You’ve known this, but now, you accept it. Your muscles tense with it. It’s not enough to send you spiraling by any means, but you fought it for so long, you’re not sure how to proceed. You could tell him now, wake him up and finally let the words slip off your tongue. More tension gathers between your shoulders. 

Joel mumbles, tightening his grip around you as he pulls you flush against him. He kisses your shoulder. 

“Don’t start with that.” Sleep coats his voice. You wonder how he’s so in tune with you even in sleep he can feel the tension. 

“Don’t think it works like that.”

He hums, squeezing you again. His lips press between your shoulder blades, beard brushing against your skin sweeping the tension away, pulling the thoughts from your head. 

He chuckles as you sink into him. “You sure about that.”

You reach behind you. Your nails rake over his thigh, just above his knee until you find your target. You pluck one of his leg hairs with a practiced precision. 

“Ow! Not nice!”

You laugh, burrowing into your pillow. “Go to sleep, old man.”

“Goodnight, Sweetheart.” He kisses your cheek, holding you so close your brain can’t think of anything but his solid frame at your back. 

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller hbo #tlou #pedro stories #pedrostories #woman (joel's version) #woman (joel miller)

[obxone]

Plenty Good Enough

Edited-ish. ~1.2k words

“You are being an asshole!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.” You are grasping for straws to stay calm despite him pushing your buttons even though you are pushing him right back. “It is one dinner, one!”

“With your grandparents.”

“Well, you can’t exactly meet my parents, Jay.”

He swallows, looking away. The tragedy that had brought you to OBX is still so fresh. Before tonight, he had joked, brushed off the idea of meeting your grandparents. But then you kept pushing him, begging to meet them. Before, he would have never told you how the idea of meeting ‘the parents’ or the grandparents in this case set him on edge. Not when the desperation shined in your eyes, but the same argument over and over is driving him insane. He is a kid from The Cut, and he will never live up to their expectations. Not in his mind.

But you know better. You know that your grandparents would be thrilled that you found someone to love and enjoy spending time with. Pressing him and leading to another argument is all you know to do since they are pressuring you to meet the blonde boy you have been spending all your time with. You love him, and you gush about him every chance you get. So, of course, they are desperate to put a face to the name.

“Why not?

“Because they won’t like me!”

“What?!” You laugh, shaking your head. “Don't be silly. Of course, they will.”

He snorts before scrubbing his hand through his mussed hair. “You don’t get it! You never will!” He paces away before turning back. His cheeks reddening. “You have everything! You have every little thing you have ever wanted, Baby."

"Not everything."

He rolls his eyes. "Listen to me. I am not good enough! I will never be good enough!”

“You are plenty good enough!”

“No, Baby, I’m not.”

“You are, JJ Maybank, open your eyes and see what I see.”

“My eyes are open!”

You roll your eyes. “You are being childish.”

“No, I'm not. I’m not good enough. I’m lying myself to think this could work out.” He shakes his head. "You deserve someone that will give you a future. You deserve to have every want fulfilled. I can't do that."

The argument is turning down a dark path, a path you are worried is going to end in flames. You exhale. You are not ready to lose him and you do not think you ever will be here.

“It’s been working out fine. I’m happy. You are happy.”

“Does this seem happy to you?!” He gestures wildly, and you close your eyes, shoulders sagging.

“It’s only one argument because I want you to meet my grandparents, and you think you are not good enough.”

“Because I’m not!”

You glare at JJ, the tiny bit of patience snapping inside of you. The book you have been reading is gripped tightly in your hands as he stares back at you. “Just leave then!” His mouth opens, but you cut him off again. “If you don’t think you should be here, then leave! Take what is yours and get out.”

A hard slap of reality will hopefully set him straight. You are running low on options and hope that you are not destroying the small shred of happiness you have found in this new place.

He shakes his head, clearly aggravated with you before grabbing his ballcap from your bed and pulling it back on his head. “Fine!”

“Great!”

He stalks towards you, and you expect him to slam your bedroom door on the way out, but that is not what happens at all. Instead, he bends just enough to push his shoulder into your hips and scoop you up over his shoulder.

For a moment, you are shocked. His actions are the last thing you expected of him. Reality sets in as he storms out of your room, hand clamped over the back of your thigh. You gasp as your book smacks onto the floor harshly, and your hands grip the back of his t-shirt tightly. “JJ!”

“You said to take what is mine and leave.”

“What are you doing?!”

“I am doing what you told me to do!” He yells as he stomps down the stairs.

You yelp at the initial drop down the first stair but recover quickly. Your fingers turn white from how hard you grip his shirt. The house is silent and dark, and it is only you two here tonight. You smack his back in alarm as he jostles you, and he chuckles.

“Put me down, you idiot!”

“Well, I’m your idiot, Princess!” He continues down the last set of stairs, and you reach out for the banister to stop him, but your fingertips miss the railing by half an inch. Lightning strikes across the sky illuminating both of you as he steps into the main floor of the house.

“I swear to all that is holy if you take me outside in this fucking rainstorm, I will never forgive you.”

He smirks, patting your butt with a quick smack. “Just doing what you told me to do.”

“JJ!” You scream as he yanks the back patio door open and steps out into the summer thunderstorm. Sheets of rain pound against the back of the house, and you are both soaked instantly. You shiver as the chill of the rain seizes you. “I can’t believe you did this!”

He smirks, letting you down, and your bare feet touching the wet stones sends a chill up your spine.

“You’re fault.”

“I hate you!” You snap, slapping your palms against his chest. It is a lie and you both know it, but you are too flustered to care.

His dark blue marina shirt clings to his shoulders and chest, highlighting every band of muscle in his toned torso. He smirks at you from under his ballcap.

“I hate you, JJ!”

JJ is quick, gripping your hip and pulling you into him. Your chests smack together, and he stares down at you. “I love you too.” His mouth is searing hot on yours, and he kisses you desperately. You kiss him back, hands fisting his shirt, and walk him backward until his back collides with the side of the house. He smirks into your mouth. “There’s my girl. My fighter.”

“Shut up,” you murmur before kissing him again. He groans, his hand tangling in your wet hair. “I really hate you, but I also love the fuck out of you,” you whisper against his lips, and he laughs. “Now, I want a hot shower, and I would really enjoy it if my stubborn boyfriend joined me.”

“I can do that,” he grins as he pecks your lips. “And maybe a massage after…”

You laugh before patting his chest. “Just say you want to have cuddles, JJ.”

“Fine,” he grins, pecking your cheek. “I want to have cuddles, and then maybe..."

You blush hot, body burning at the suggestion already. "Then meet my grandparents."

He sighs, his forehead dropping to press to yours. "And you'll love me no matter what they say?"

"Absolutely."

"For you, anything."

You grin at him triumphantly.

"I love you, stubborn girl."

#outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx jj maybank #outer banks jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x y/n

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 1: The Infinity Necklace

“I love you too, Koo,” a faint whisper comes out of my parted lips as Jungkook’s eyes slowly close from the anesthesia spreading through his system, blocking any remaining signals of consciousness. Just an hour ago, this room was filled with our laughter as his teasing request to ruin our friendship bounced off the four walls, fueling the flush rising up my cheeks. Now, the same room is still, as if time itself has stopped, the walls, echoing merely the beeps of the heart monitor. 

As my body becomes numb to the cold floor, I lose track of time, dissociating into the far abyss. And as my eyes rest shut, it’s as if I can still feel his warm embrace, the way his grip tightens around my waist with every restless move I try to make. While hundreds of souls pass by my lifeless form under the dim lights of the main hallway, nothing but the scent of Jungkook’s vanilla musk lingers in the cold air. Koo, please tell me this isn’t real. 

"Mira, honey, wake up,” whispers of a familiar voice bring me back to reality as I feel a hand on my shivering shoulders. 

“Koo?” I reply momentarily, red, puffy eyes looking up in search of his being. One that was certainly no longer there, as my helpless hope ceased to exist upon seeing Tae’s worried face. Feeling my eyes swell with tears, his arms encompass my distressed self as my fatigued body gives into his warm embrace. Stroking my curls, his touch is gentle, cautious even. 

“It’s going to be okay Mira. Jungkook is a tough guy, he will be fine, alright?” he assures, wiping the tears rolling down my face, before turning his attention to Jimin's out-of-breath state as he rushes towards us.

“Sorry, the traffic was really bad,” Jimin explains to Tae before looking past his form as his eyes search my crouched body. 

“Mira, how are you? Do you want some water? I can grab you something from the cafeteria …” he goes on as the head surgeon and their team of staff exit Jungkook's room. Hearing the door close behind them, my eyes shoot up, slight hope regenerating within those tired orbs. 

“How is he? Can I see him? Please,” my voice was faint and shaky. Before proceeding with the prognosis the doctor clears her throat, looking over Jungkook's records. 

“The head injury experienced by Mr. Jeon has resulted in trauma that escalated dramatically, leaving him in a temporary coma. It is important to note that prior to our operation, the effects of the incident were seen in his inability to access the short-term memory in his brain. Despite meeting us just a few hours ago, Mr. Jeon was in visible distress, alarmed at the sight of “unrecognizable” doctors and nurses,” she explains, maintaining eye contact with all three of us, anticipating the potential inquiries that could come up.

“Fortunately, his vitals are good, which means that Mr. Jeon’s recovery shouldn't take longer than, I reckon, a week or two,” 

“What about his memory? Will he be able to recover it?” Jimin buds in, eyes still monitoring my state. Which to be truthful, was in complete shock. My body was experiencing everything and nothing all at once. At that moment, I could cry, hyperventilate, scream, yell, curse, and all of the above. But I didn't, instead, my eyes were trying to sneak even the slightest glimpse of Jungkook through the little window. 

“Doctor, could I please see him?” I plead, looking back at Tae and Jimin for their mutual help. 

“I'm sorry miss, but visitations are not allowed until the following day,” she says firmly, before being interrupted by Tae’s attempt at negotiation. 

“Please, doctor, could we stay just for tonight? We will leave first thing tomorrow morning. His family is all in Busan,” he explains. 

Looking back at the staff, the doctor clears her throat again before turning her gaze back on me with slightly furrowed brows. 

“Alright, but just for tonight. Please, do not disturb him,” her tone is strict and sharp. 

As my chest heaves up, I can feel my breathing speed up, throat tightening in the process. Eyes swelled up with tears, I pushed past the group of nurses and doctors and rushed toward Jungkook’s still body. His skin was pale and cold to the touch. Eyes closed, he looked completely helpless, form, small and fragile under the hospital lights. 

“Koo,” I whisper, before dropping beside him, intertwining my hand with his. Placing a gentle kiss on his soft skin, I wipe the teardrops rolling down my face before glancing back at Tae and Jimin, who stood still by the door frame. It’s their best friend, their brother, the baby of the group. Eyes scattering his form, they try to hold back their own tears, before coming in to comfort me again. 

As the night went on the room filled with silence, my eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing hour. Jimin went out to get us some food, while Tae stayed with me, gently caressing my hair as my head rested beside Jungkook’s. I didn’t mean to but I guess, my body couldn’t resist any longer, giving in to the fatigue as my eyes slowly shut. Falling asleep, I could feel Jimin covering my seated form with his jacket, as their voices became increasingly distant. 

“I can sleep on the floor, it's fine,” Jimin suggests.

“Are you insane? It’s cold and dirty, let’s just share the couch,” Tae says, before plopping his aching body on the soft cushion. Doing the same, Jimin exhales deeply, shaking his head trying to comprehend the aftermath of the situation. His analysis, however, was short-lived, as the two succumbed to their own fatigue, falling asleep rather quickly. And, as the beeping sound of the heart machine filled the atmosphere, I sneaked a quick glance at the couch, smiling upon seeing both friends covered under Tae’s jacket. 

- -

Staying true to our word, we were gone by the morning but as I looked back at Jungkook’s pale face the aching feeling in my heart grew stronger. 

“I’ll be back Koo, I promise,” I whisper into his ear, tearful gaze focused on his closed eyes. With hopes of receiving even the slightest sign of his consciousness, I wait just a little longer before covering his still body with the soft blanket. 

The following days were filled with visits from Jungkook’s faculty friends and work acquaintances, who brought anything and everything that once made him laugh. Eventually, as the room filled with his memories, the dim lights under which Jungkook slept became brighter, fueling back the life he was once so full of. 

“I hope you like it, baby,” I say softly, looking at the silver necklace around his neck. An infinity necklace. A symbol of never-ending love pillared on an unending bond between two people.

“Koo, you promised you wouldn’t leave. But, I guess, it’s my turn to wait for you now. I’ll wait for infinity if I have to. Just please come back to me,” my words mutter into the soft kiss on his forehead, as tears roll down my face. Leaning closer, I rest my head on his as we sit in the deafening silence. I miss his laugh and the little nose crunch that followed right after. I miss his bunny teeth and the way his doe eyes sparkled. I just miss … him.

- -

Laughter and chatter fill the lecture hall as the professor dismisses the class upon wishing everyone a restful winter break. Glancing at Tae, we exchange soft smiles before heading out. Although my body desperately needs this break, my mind and heart are just simply not at ease, so it’s hard to truly appreciate the free time. Especially, without the one person I was meant to spend it with. 

“I’m going to try out the bakery that just opened by our dormitory, do you want me to grab you something?” Tae asks with a boxy smile, eyes searching mine. 

“No, thanks Tae. I’m gonna drop by Jungkook, and see how he’s doing,” I say softly. Even though, we both know how he is doing. Unconscious and lonely. Nonetheless, I promised him I wouldn’t leave, so I tried to visit every day, becoming a familiar face to the receptionists working at the front. And, although Tae knows this isn’t the healthiest of coping mechanisms, he doesn’t have the heart to snap me out of it, so instead, he pulls me into a warm hug before we wave each other goodbye. 

- - 

Stopping by the flower shop, I grab a bouquet of tiger lilies which were Koo’s favourite, before heading to the hospital. As the winter season progressed, the days became colder and darker. But, nothing could stop me, especially not when even the mere thought of being beside Jungkook warmed my aching heart. So, there I was, rushing towards his embrace before being abruptly stopped in my tracks upon seeing the empty room. Nothing, and I mean nothing is left of Jungkook’s presence. Feeling my breathing increase, I double-check the room number, even though I’ve now memorized every inch of his premises. 

“Sorry, but where is the patient residing in room 9223?” I ask one of the nurses passing by. 

“Oh, Mr. Jeon has been discharged,” she replies calmly, her smile slowly fading upon seeing the way my eyebrows furrowed with confusion. 

“Discharged? By who? How? I was here yesterday, and he was still unconscious,” I exclaim, voice now shaky. 

“Mr. Jeon was discharged early in the morning by his parents,” the nurse continued before excusing herself as the ringing of her pager filled the silence between us. And, as my eyes swell with tears, I dial Jimin’s phone number, hoping he would know where Jungkook is. 

“Mira?” 

“Jimin? Jiminah, is Jungkook with you?” I stutter nervously, tears rolling down my flushed face. 

“No, I was just going to call you. His room is empty, what’s going on?” Jimin explains, sounding just as confused. 

“I don’t know, apparently, his parents came to pick him up,” I shake my head, trying to regain my composure as my hands begin to tremble. Jungkook wouldn’t leave without telling me. Right?

Next l Index

#bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #bts x yn #jungkook fanfic #fanfic #jungkook smut #romance #young love #college love #slow burn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x female reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #forbidden love #peaches & cream jk

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Imagine being an Avenger who's close to Shuri and getting hurt on a mission

"Ross where is y/n."

Everett Ross tripped over his own two feet as his music was abruptly cut off and replaced by the familiar voice of the Princess of Wakanda. Fortunately though he was able to catch himself preventing what would've been a nasty face-plant. "Shuri um how are you doing this?"

"I hacked your phone colonizer now answer my question. Where is y/n" Shuri said impatiently.

"I'm not sure what her exact location is-" He started but was cut off.

"Is she on a mission?" There was a urgent tone in her voice that wasn't there before.

"Princess she's an Avenger for hire these days who only really goes where she feels like she's needed. So yes she very well could be but I don't exactly keep tabs on things like that. Once the Sokovia Accords were appealed, organizations lost access to enhanced who didn't want to be tracked." Ross explained.

Shuri let out a huff of frustration. "Thanks for nothing colonizer."

She hung up before he could hang up, and his music was blaring into his ears again.

"Princess you asked for me" Okoye said descending the stairs into the lab.

Shuri turned to the General with a panicked look on her face. "I need you to do something for me. It might the kind of task you're use-" Okoye gripped her by the shoulders making her pause the rambling. "Whatever it is you wish me to do I will happily do it without question. You know this so tell me what is the mission?" she reassured her.

"I need you to follow the coordinates of y/n's kimoyo beads and bring her back to Wakanda please" Shuri told her.

The request indeed caught Okoye off guard as she frowned a bit unsure if she heard her correctly. "You want me to retrieve an Avenger and bring her back here" she repeated.

Shuri threw her hands up into the hair before tangling them in her hair. "Yes her heart rate is going at fast rate which means she's in danger. What if she's out there somewhere alone and dying. No one is going to be." Her voice cut off as Shuri took a few steps back to brace herself up against a sand table. She swallowed hard with tears pooling up in the corners of her eyes. "Okoye please just find her" she whispered in a broken voice.

Okoye covered the distance between them with two long strides to pull the Princess into her arms. Realizing just exactly what was wrong with her, and why she was so upset. Two months had gone by since T'Challa's death, and while Shuri wanted everyone to believe that she was doing just fine. The General knew it was all facade just as well as her mother did, and the thought of losing anyone else she cared about put her on edge. But if that thought started to become reality the girl would truly go off the deep end. You were one of the few Avengers who was invited by the Queen herself to attend the funeral. You dropped everything to be there considering you were pretty close to him and his family. But you were closer to Shuri more than anyone else in Wakanda, and even though you stayed for a whole two weeks. After the ceremony it didn't feel like enough to her, and she begged you to stay longer. Especially when you revealed why you it was so important that you returned to the states. Apparently there were a number of mission requests piling up from all over the world.

"I'll leave immediately to find her" Okoye whispered pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. Shuri nodded against her chest then pulled away to let her go.

Somewhere in Washington

See the best thing about being a dragon is there wasn't much that could hurt you. Literally once you let your dragon scales break free no weapon could pierce through them. Bullets would just bounce off while blades would either glance off of you, or just break depending on what material. It was made out of not even vibranium had the strength to get past your defenses. Unfortunately though that tended to make you cocky enough to forget. There was still weapons out there that could hurt you. Those weapons just usually had to be enchanted in someway or not of this world.

Your eyes widened in pain and disbelief as the dagger embedded itself into your chest. The thug wielding it grinned when it pushed through the scales, and started to twist it. You let out a deep rumbling growl and back handed him across the face. He was knocked back into a tree a few feet away and fell to the ground unconscious. When your hand gripped the hilt of the dagger to yank it out. A wave of overwhelming agony was sent through out entire body. You dropped to one knee letting out another pained growl. Two gunmen lined up behind you spread out in order to surround you. The object was simple take you down and deliver you to whatever freak set this trap for you. Doctor Strange reached out to you a couple of days ago, and asked if you had time to check out. Some new cult of magic users on the rise hiding in the woods of Washington. There had been numerous disappearances of some of the sorcerers stationed in here setting off the alarm. You accepted it and rejected Bucky's offer to tag along thinking it would be a walk in the park. You were starting to regret that decision.

A pair of giant black wings with horns at the ends sprouted out from your back and wrapped your body. Just as they started firing their guns a flurry of bullets rained upon you. But all of them ricocheted off of your wings not a single one breaking through. You wanted until your ears picked up on the familiar clicking noise of an empty gun chamber. Before pulling your wings back and turning around let a maelstrom of fire pour from your mouth. Screams of terror and pain filled the air as the flames devoured them. You reeled in your firebreathing once you were sure they were no longer a problem. The surrounding area was singed by the flames, but there was no threat of a forest fire. With your dragon sight you were able to look off into the distance to see. If there were anymore enemies waiting behind a tree or something to ambush you. Once you confirmed there wasn't you let yourself fall to the ground on your side.

The dagger was still embedded in your chest, and you were unable to remove it yourself. Which was going to be a problem in a few minutes, metal like this could be fatal for dragons. The longer it stayed in the weaker you would get, and it prevented you from healing as well. Who knows how long it would take for the cult to send out more members. If they found you like this you would be defenseless, heck you might be unconscious. Your ears picked up the distant sound of a whistling in the air. You rolled onto your back to glance up at the sky. Just in time to see a white ring of light come down on you, and then your body was being lifted from the ground. You were being beamed up into a familiar aircraft, but the pain knocked you out. Before you reached the inside of the jet.

Wakanda

When you finally came to you found yourself lying on a medical table that was way more comfortable than what it looked. The room you was in was a bit unfamiliar, and when the events from the woods came back. You panicked shooting up into a sitting postion the pain in your chest flared up. Making you let out a cry of pain, but instead of laying back down. You threw your legs over the table to attempt to stand. You made it all of three steps before nearly collapsing, but a pair of strong arms caught you by the shoulders. Whoever it was guided you back to the medical table."

"Easy Avenger you're still injured that cut hasn't disappeared yet" a familiar voice said. You looked up into the warm brown eyes of Okoye, and relief filled your body. Instantly you stopped resisting and let her help you back onto the table.

"Where am I?" You asked curiously

"You're in the palace's infirmary. You've been unconscious for about six hours since I picked you up from Washington" she told you.

"Cool and while I'm grateful for the save. How exactly did you know where I was?"

Okoye gestured to your wrist where the kimoyo beads that Shuri gifted you. A couple of months ago rested, and it clicked in your head that it was Wakanda technology. Which meant she was probably able to track you with it. "Is Shuri keeping tabs on me?" You asked a bit taken back.

"The beads aren't just for tracking y/n they are connected your heart rate as well. When you were fighting earlier it was high and it worried Shuri who sent me to assist you." Okoye said taking a seat at the end of the table.

That made more sense and it didn't surprise you considering. Wakanda was the most technological advanced nation in the world. "I guess I owe you one if you join me on my way back to America, I'll treat you to Starbucks." You knew how much the General wanted to try the popular coffee chain. It was a running joke that she wanted one built in Wakanda, but the idea was turned down. At least the Council didn't see the installation of a Starbucks as a urgent matter.

Her eyes lit up with joy for a quick second before it vanished just as fast replaced with a look of uncertainty. You tilted your head to the side "is something else wrong?"

"Do you think its possible that you could stay in Wakanda for a little longer?" she asked a hint of sadness in her voice. By all means you did see Okoye as a close friend, but you never thought your absence bothered her this much. So there had to be something else going on here.

"I would love to but I have a mission to get back to kind of. Those guys in the woods need to be dealt with plus I gotta check-in with Strange, and let him know what happened."

"Can Strange not takeover the operation himself. You're in no condition to go back in the field y/n" she argued.

"Okoye do you want to tell me what is really going on here, because this isn't the General of the Dora Milaje speaking. You know better than anyone else that the mission comes first. I'm not exactly on death's door" You said propped up on your elbows.

"Why don't you try to convince Shuri of that?" Okoye snapped at you. And there it was the main reason you were truly here, and why she didn't want you to leave yet. You spoke to the Princess nearly everyday always taking time out of your day to check on her. No matter what you had going on, but you had slipped the past two days. Too busy tracking the cult and trying to locate where they were hiding out yet.

"How is she doing?" You asked her in a softer voice.

"Not too well she walks around here pretending like everything is okay, and throws herself into her technology. Today when she asked me to go retrieve you that's the first time I've seen her show so real emotions in months since his death. I think she feared that she was going to lose you today."

You started to sit up again making Okoye jump forward with a disapproving look to push you back down. "No take me to her she needs to see I'm okay."

"Y/N you can barely walk just rest a bit longer" she protested.

"Okoye you can either help me to her, or I can crawl my way around this palace until I find her." You said in a tone that left no room for discussion. She muttered something you couldn't make out about stubborn heroes, but pulled one of your arms over her shoulders. Then wrapped an arm around your waist so you could lean on her, and the two of you started the journey to the lab.

The elevator doors opened revealing a stressed out Shuri moving a fingers along a screen with a bunch of numbers and equations on it. "Shuri your favorite Avenger is finally awake" Okoye said slowly exiting the elevator with you in tow.

Shuri dropped the tablet in her hand as she whirled around. Just like that the stress was gone from her body replaced with a strong sense of relief. She let out a strangled cry at the sight of you being held up by Okoye with a hand pressed to the injury on your chest. It was obvious you were in no condition to be walking. But at least you were awake and smiling at her.

Okoye made her way to one of the tables that were clear. She let you pull away arms still outstretched as you hoped onto to it. You settled there letting your legs dangle over the edge a second later Shuri's body crashed into yours. As she pushed her way between your legs to wrap her arms around your neck. Burying her face into your shoulder you gritted your teeth in pain but returned the hug. Okoye gave you a quick nod before leaving.

You and her stayed like that for a long time at some point you felt the wetness from her tears. She was silently crying muffling the sound with your shoulder. Your arms tightened around her waist "hey it's okay I'm okay Shuri," you repeated over and over again in her ear.

"Please don't leave me" she begged.

"I have no intention on doing so ever" You told her.

Shuri pulled back to press her forehead against yours with her eyes closed. She let out a few shaky breaths before going on. "Stay here with me for a while longer please."

You found yourself saying yes without even thinking about it. It looked like Doctor Strange would have to take over the mission after all.

#mcu imagine #marvel imagine #black panther imagine #shuri imagine #shuri x reader #okoye x reader

[oliversrarebooks]

Prompt: Fitz using his vampire mind control powers for the first time and perhaps having PTSD flashbacks to Lily brainwashing him.

It really isn't Lily that Fitz has PTSD flashbacks to - at least not primarily. Which means that instead of Fitz's first time using his powers, I decided to write about a somewhat later time when Fitz's fears plagued him...

Masterlist

September 1910

TW: mind control, blood drinking, PTSD, self-loathing, mentions of blood

It was a bad night even before the puppets showed up.

In fact, it was destined to be a bad night ever since Fitz had happened to glance at the calendar and realize that it was the anniversary of the day he'd been taken from Lex. He immediately tried to push that sordid knowledge from his mind, knowing that it would result in nothing but a lot of pointless anxiety. 

The thin scars lining his hands itched and ached regardless.

And that was before he realized that the act booked to go on before him was a fucking puppet show of all things. As he waited in the wings, peeking out the curtain, he watched as the near-life-size wooden puppets twitched and danced. 

He tried not to feel the strings tightening around his own wrists and neck, forcing sore, tired limbs to move against his will. He tried to fight the urge for his own feet to twitch in uncontrollable rhythm. He tried not to hear the cruel whisper in his ear, pouring cold terror into his unresisting mind as his Master listed every trivial mistake.

One of the puppets was a ballerina, twirling in a graceful pirouette. Some of his fellow thralls had been ballerinas, too, delicate feet bleeding on the dance floor.

A sick dizziness washed over him. He felt detached from reality as he fought the urge to sink to his knees and grovel to his Master for a leniency that was rarely granted. The words were bubbling up in his rapidly tightening throat as he swayed and gripped a curtain to remain upright.

"Mr. Fitz?"

"Master," he murmured. "Master, please, I'm trying --"

"Mr. Fitz, hey. Are you okay, mate?"

The stage fell back into place around Fitz as he snapped out of the self-inflicted trance he'd been in. One of the stagehands, a scrawny boy of no more than nineteen, was pulling on his sleeve. "You look pale as the dead, mister," he said, with innocent concern. "Are you all right? You're going to need to go on in a few."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said, mustering up a smile that he was sure looked ghastly. The show needed to go on, after all.

---

Fitz somehow managed to hold himself together for an entire act. From the audience's delighted reaction, they didn't suspect a thing wrong. They couldn't hear the whispered memories tugging at Fitz's mind every time his focus slipped an inch, and thank the devil for that.

He slouched in his dressing room chair. What the hell was wrong with him? He had no reason to be so irrationally frightened of a threat that was an ocean away and several years removed. This time, when he criticized himself, it was his own voice and not the Maestro's --

Pull it together. God, you're fucking useless. Getting turned didn't cure you of that, now did it?

There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," said Fitz, putting his smile back on, happy to have any distraction from his own wretched thoughts.

A young man in a stylish blue suit slipped in the doorway. He had big, dark eyes, the kind you could lose yourself in, and a gentle smile. A handsome man, one of Fitz's favorite sorts of distraction.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Fitz," said the young man. "My name is Charlie, and I'm a big fan of magic. I really enjoyed your act this evening, and the stagehand told me I could come backstage to meet you."

Bless the innocent stagehand and his excellent instincts. Not only was the man handsome, but he also smelled like a treat. A bit of blood would do wonders for healing his addled mind. 

"Yes, of course. Excellent taste!" said Fitz with a grin and a wink. "Have a seat. I appreciate the company, especially from a fan like yourself."

Fitz turned his vampiric charm on a low hum, not enough to exert any real control, just enough to set the man at ease and draw him in. He'd been a natural at it right off the bat, as soon as he'd recovered from the turning and the injuries inflicted upon him. He could already see the relaxed smile spreading across Charlie's face, the way he leaned in closer to Fitz as he sat.

"Can I ask how you do any of your tricks, or do you never reveal your secrets?" Charlie asked. "Especially the one with the two chairs."

"Oh, it's a secret," said Fitz, leaning in closer himself. "I can give you a hint -- only one of the chairs has a real back to it."

"Oh yeah?" 

"Mmmhmm. What else did you like about my act? I'm always eager to hear some praise, you know."

"I liked the part with the fishtanks. It was very suspenseful. And the bit where you escaped the handcuffs..." Charlie's eyes were going a little glassy. Perfect.

Fitz reached in and touched the man's hair, meeting with no resistance. Such an easy mark. "Very good," he said, physical contact allowing him to weave his real power around the man's mind, soothing him and promoting feelings of blissful pleasure.

"Very good," Charlie agreed, slowly nodding, losing himself in it already.

Fitz's treacherous, anxious mind supplied him with a vision a backstage dressing room years ago, the one where Lily had mesmerized him and sealed his fate. How it had felt to be helpless against a vampire's power.

Annoyed, he pushed it aside. This wasn't like that. He was the vampire now and he was fully in control. He wasn't packing this man off to one of those nasty auction houses, he was just taking a little taste. Charlie clearly had plenty of blood he wouldn't miss.

"Tell me, Charlie," Fitz said with a wicked grin that he knew would make his fangs obvious. "If you're such a devoted fan, would you mind parting with a bit of your blood? Just enough for a little snack, nothing that will do you any harm."

There was only the briefest of resistance before Charlie's head bobbed in an eager nod. "Sure, Mr. Fitz, that'd be just... perfect..."

Perfect.

The word rang through Fitz's head.

I'm trying! I'm trying, Master, please, I'm trying!

If you were actually trying, it would be perfect.

The puppet string tightened around his neck, his old scars feeling like they were on fire.

"No," he whispered, pushing the stranger away and falling to the floor, his stool overturning. "No, no, please, Master, I can't do it any more, I can't -- "

The stranger blinked and looked down at Fitz in confusion. "Are you all right? There might be something in the air here, I was feeling so strange --"

"Go," said Fitz, pushing the stranger away with the same force he'd used to draw him closer. "Leave me!"

The stranger couldn't scramble out of the dressing room fast enough, leaving Fitz to curl up in a miserable, pathetic heap on the floor, cowering before a Master that only existed in his head. He could feel the dank chill of the Maestro's practice room, the scrapes on his knees as he groveled on the floor, the sharp cuts where the fine, cruel silver knife had marred his skin --

Feeling desperate and pitiful, there was only a brief argument in his mind before he relented and sought out Lex. His mind traversed the familiar connection between sire and sireling, the one Lex was so careful never to abuse. Fitz hated leaning on his old love to soothe his troubled mind, but on a really bad night like this --

The connection was always weak from the sireling's end, so all he could send was feelings and vague impressions. Puppets. Knives. Fear.

The response was immediate. Are you okay? What's happening? Didn't you have a show tonight?

Fitz swallowed and tried to convey that he was fine in the practical sense, just having terrible waking nightmares.

He was rewarded when his mind was flooded with a cool, soothing calm, washing away his fear and pain. His muscles unclenched. His shaking subsided. He was able to sit up, leaning against the wall, drinking in the comfort Lex was providing him from afar.

He hated to do it. After all, this situation was largely his fault, no matter how much Lex tried to convince him it wasn't. He should be the one comforting his love. But he was weak. Even as a vampire, he was so fucking weak.

Masterlist

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable

#whump #whump writing #vampire #mind control #blood drinking #panic attack #vampire whumpee #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #fitz #maestro

[doodlebat33]

What if 2023 monkey king had a nightmare about losing us. I know great way to start- but imagine he wakes up in a cold sweat and frantically checks to see if the readers still there with him. This causes the reader to wake up because he’s moving around a lot, and of course readers just gonna wake up and be concerned. Readers like ‘hey are you okay love?’ Monkey king just hugs them and hugs them tight. Almost like if he doesn’t they will just vanish. All he wants to do right now is hold them close to him. To make sure they are there with him. Reader just hugs them back and asks if he’s alright and what’s wrong. He tells them that he thought he lost them and honestly dreamt about reader leaving him. reader just reassures him that they are not going anywhere. They they are with him because they love him. Reader just comforts him and tell him how much they love him. And it reassures Monkey king that they will always be with him and never leave him. And it ends with fluff. Like they go back to sleep, cuddling, in each others arms. (The hugging might be a bit out of character for monkey king. If you want to change it a bit then it’s fine). I just want monkey king to get the love and attention he deserves 😭😭. Thank you💕

Man this is amazing! You just did my job for me and all I can say is

✨ YES! ✨ and this concept, but he's bigger, and this could be the first time they see him so big

Monkey King was tossing and turning in bed, his dream was slowly turning into a nightmare. He had y/n in his sight, chasing after them but as soon as he caught up to them, they fade I ti a puff of smoke and vanish. His world starts crumbling around him. He grips the sheets in distress as he starts growing larger, trying to bridge the gap in his dream and taking it to reality. Y/n stirs a bit as they feel something press against them, they look to Monkey and see he's growing larger in size. They never knew he had this ability, best to try and wake him up before he gets too big and breaks into the ceiling.

Y/n climbs over his back and holds his face in their hands. They softly rub his nose as they call out to him. "Monkey, monkey wake up! Monkey!"

Monkey King's eyes open and he sputters a sharp inhale. He tries to catch his breath, and as his eyes adjust to the darkness, he sees y/n nervously looking up at him.

"Hey, shhh, it's ok. It's ok..."

He was wondering if he was still dreaming considering how small y/n looked to him. Until he realized he grew in his sleep. He sighs and leans into their touch.

"there we go, you're safe, it's ok... I, never knew you could do something like this, it's pretty neat." They try to make light of the situation as a distraction. "Just how big can you ge-" They were cut off as monkey scoops them up in his hand. He lies back down and holds them close to his chest. As y/n's pressed against him, they can hear his heart racing as he holds them tightly. Y/n manages to scratch his neck and they hear his heart rate start to slow. "They're we go... You have another nightmare?"

Monkey nuzzles y/n with his chin and croaks, "I... don't wanna loose you..." Y/n scratches his chin, "You won't, I'm right here and let's just focus in that for now ok?" Monkey king breathes a long sigh as y/n scratches his chin. Y/n scoots closer to him and kisses his cheek, "I'll never leave your side, you can count on that." They scratch behind his ear and go back to resting against his chest. Monkey holds them close and eventually drifts back off to sleep.

Monkey king x reader Masterpost

#monkey king netflix #monkey king 2023 #the monkey king netflix #monkey king headcannon #monkey king x reader

[imaginealotofthings]

Imagine you find out Chibs is seen with another woman.

"Y/N, they were together."

"We saw them"

"He's moved on!"

.. The old ladies & croweaters- the ones you considered friends, even maybe family now; kept telling you Chibs had moved on. You and Chibs weren't officially a couple, so you had to act like you didn't give a shit, but in reality - you fell in love with the man the first time he spoke to you.

Were they just trying to hurt you? Protect you? Who knew.

All you knew was that it hurt like hell! You had fallen so hard for Filip Telford over the past few months since moving to Charming - you really thought he was the one but you knew everything was too good to be true.

You sat at the bar with the girls in the clubhouse - they told you how much of a piece of shit Chibs was and that I deserved SOO MUCH better... The boys sat in a huddle, keeping out of the way - which seemed out of character for them.

You kept drinking...and drinking. I nodded along but didn't agree with a word they said. To be fair, I never thought Chibs would do this to me but he definitely wasn't a piece of shit & I definitely didn't deserve better. You didn't want better. You wanted him. You want Chibs.

You drank a lot by this point. "Thanks girls, I'm just gonna go out for a smoke."

"But Y/N, you don't smoke." one of them spoke over the others.

"I do now!" grabbing the packet of cigarettes and lighter you head outside.

Leaning against the wall, you lit the cigarette. This was the first one you'd had since quitting 5 years ago. You were ashamed, but you smoked as if it was going to cure everything. Blowing out the cloud of smoke a hand appeared yanking the cigarette from your grip.

"What the fuck are you doing lass?" Chibs face concerned.

"Hey, give me that..." you stumbled. "You don't get to take stuff off of me, like that bitch whore has..."

"What are ya talking about Y/N?" Chibs more confused than concerned now.

"That woman you've been seen with all over town, the girls have already told me, so save it Chibs. I hope she was worth it." Chibs scratched his brow with frustration and realising what was happening.

By this point the girls and the rest of the Sons had come out to see what was going down. A few of the boys took the girls back inside to talk.

"Y/N, the woman is no bitch whore. I can assure you! It was your sister."

You stare at him, tears leaving your eyes. You waited for more answers.

"I asked your sister, Y/S/N into town for lunch - I wanted to ask for her blessing on behalf of your family. I wanted to seek approval to ask for your hand in marriage.... Goddammit." he began to get angry.

You began to sob, so hard shoving your face into your hands.

"I can't understand why you'd believe them, Y/N. I can't believe you think I'd do that to you! And smoking again after how hard you worked to quit. This has to be a fucking joke." Punching the wall, he storms off out of the Teller Morrow lot.

You fell to the floor in tears. Juice and Tig sat down to comfort you.

"Hey man, you can't blame her you know what them crow eaters are like, they'll do anything to keep us boys from serious relationships. It'll all be fine man." Jax says before patting Chibs on the back.

"Just the thought of losing her kills me, Jackie Boy." He looked at Chibs with an empathetic look. "I'm in love with her."

A smirk appeared on Jax's face. "Stop fucking about and go get her, she's in love with you man."

Chibs wipes his face and bounds up to wear Y/N sat on the floor in her drunken state.

He reached down and lifted you up. "Y/N, come on. Lets go." You nodded. He swept you up and put you over his shoulder. Taking you to his room and laying you on the bed.

"Asif you got this drunk with worry - I can't believe you think I'd leave someone as amazing as you.

I'm going to kiss the worries away.. all over your body. Ok lass?"

"Okay Chibby.."

"And then tomorrow, I'm gonna ask you to be my wife..."

Credit to gif/image owners

#imagine #imagines #imaginealotofthings #chibs imagine #chibs soa #imagine chibs telford #chibs telford imagine #imagine sons of anarchy #tommy flanagan #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sonsofanarchy #soa chibs #chibs telford #chibs x reader #chibs smut #chibs sons of anarchy #celebrity imagine #filip telford #soa #samcro #reader x character #cute #love #relationship #jax teller imagine #jax teller #tig #tig soa #tig trager

[navibluebees]

Ja Lovin' (x Female Reader)

Please read before interacting.

This is smuuuutt dedicated to @nin3kyuu 💙 She was super gracious and took something from my brain to make it a gorgeous reality~ If you aren't already following her, what are you doing?

Ja was sitting at the end of the bed with you standing in between his legs. He was toying with the lace at the bottom of your nightgown, sliding his hands up underneath and around the back to cup your ass, firmly squeezing. "What's wrong, honeybun?" He smirked at the way you blushed from being called your favorite pet name.

Your face heated up and you glanced away from him, your hands trembling a bit. "I'm just a bit nervous. We haven't done this before- well at least not in these bodies."

He got a bit serious, cupping your cheek in his palm. "Look, just because we did this the first time around doesn't mean we have to now."

"No, I want to. I assume your.. equipment works the same way?"

His fangs flashed in a wolfish grin. "You're about to be naked with me. Call it what it is. Yes, my cock works just fine. At least it did when I checked last night." He leaned forward, skimming your breast with his nose. "When I was thinking of your thighs around me and the way you used to gasp when you were about to cum. I wonder.. do you still do that?

You gasped, reaching out to slap him on the shoulder, but he caught your hand, squeezing your wrist and scraping his fangs up the inside of your forearm. "Y/N. What do you want from me?"

Your hands slid up his biceps, gripping his shoulders. You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. "I want you to make me feel good," you said as you brushed your lips across his.

He reached up, pushing the straps of your nightgown down, the silky fabric grazing your skin until it pooled on the floor. You shivered at his fingertips that danced along your skin. He knew you too well and in all the places you loved being touched before, your body reacted the same way now. He pulled you close and you straddled him on the edge of the bed. He sighed as your skin met his, warmth spreading across both of you.

He squeezed you tight to him and gently took hold of your chin. "Hey," he whispered softly. "I really did miss you. I'm glad we get a second chance. I know we won't waste it."

"You softie," you tried to hide your grin with annoyance but couldn't stop it from spreading across your face. 

"Aha!" He laughed quietly. "I knew you couldn't resist me." He quirked an eyebrow and leaned in to kiss your sternum, inhaling deeply. He growled, "You smell so fucking good, c'mere." He yanked you close to him and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you roughly to him. He massaged your hip with one hand, using the other to hold you close and nip at your bottom lip, tugging on it with his teeth. He let go, looking up at you with wild eyes and lunged forward to take your nipple in his mouth.

You startled, leaning back but unable to go anywhere with him clutching you to his body. He sucked hard and when he felt your body shaking in his arms, he gently pulled away. "One second." He carefully set you back on your feet and moved behind you, his tail curling around your hips as he circled you. You purred loudly and covered your mouth, wide-eyed. He burst out laughing and you pouted, reaching for his coiled hair and massaging his scalp. His eyes rolled back and a rumble came from his chest, too.

He laid down with his head at the end of the bed. Your brow wrinkled in confusion, but he reached for you, his face grinning at you upside down. You walked closer and he gripped your thighs, pulling them closer. You stumbled and he steadied you, "Easy, honeybun. You're okay. Come sit on my face."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me. I haven't tasted you in years and if I don't soon, I will lose my mind. Come here, now."

You obeyed, slowly putting a thigh on either side of his face to hover over him. He let out a loud groan as your knees pressed in. "God, it's so warm. I forgot how good you feel. I could die here a happy man. Although, since I just came back to life, I'd like to try and avoid that."

You started to chuckle, just as he knew you would and before you could reign it back in, he licked quickly up your pussy, causing a strangled gasp to escape from you. You quivered and leaned forward, bracing a hand on his abdomen. He moaned against you, making you tremble from the vibrations against your clit. You had been wet since you'd first seen him again. Of course with his newer sharp senses, he'd smelled it and couldn't resist getting you alone.

You nearly fell limply onto his chest, but his arms wrapped around your legs, biceps flexing as he squeezed your thighs. "Don't give up on me, now. I've got you."

Your body warmed all over even more at his words and you gently massaged his pecs, and even further down his torso. He held on tighter and ate you out like a man starved. His hips bucked as you reached lower, tracing a finger under the band of his underwear. He felt you moving around on top of him and grunted as he slapped your ass lightly. "Stop moving. I'm not done with you."

You huffed, trying to hide the way your breathing was ragged. "I'm not moving anytime soon, I promise."

A muffled "Mhm" came from his mouth as he darted his tongue inside you. You jerked, a quiet moan coming up from your throat as you reached forward to push his under wear down his thighs. He quickly caught on and lifted his hips slightly, kicking them off once you got them low enough. His legs fell open and your mouth watered at him splayed out for you. He continued licking you desperately, taking advantage of your raised hips to slide a finger inside, gently stretching you. 

Your hips ground against his face and he held you tight, rubbing his nose against you. He pulled his finger out and when his head tilted back, his chin brushed your clit and you fell weakly against him. When you gathered your breath, you reached for his cock. It was resting against his stomach, leaking, rock hard, aching for your touch. When your hand wrapped around it, he let out a low growl, stomach clenching. He melted into your touch quickly as you gently pumped up and down. You licked teasingly, soft licks all over. 

His head fell back as he breathed hard, "Sweetbun, I'm begging you. Quit playin'. I need your mouth around me."

You obliged as he thrusted slightly up toward your face. Holding his cock in place, you wrapped your lips around it, sucking the tip into your mouth. He sighed, a warm breath ghosting over your swollen lips. "Fuck. Yes. Don't stop."

You continued as he groaned deeply, that familiar sound washing over your body leaving goosebumps behind. You took more of him in your mouth, fighting a gag and he stroked your back softly, "It's okay, Y/N. You can do it. You can-" He breathed sharply through his nose as he hit the back of your throat. Once you'd relaxed your breathing, you sucked harder. "Damn! That's it, my girl."

You gently pushed your hips back to his face and heard the smile in his voice as he said, "Alright alright, don't be greedy."

You pulled him out of your mouth with a pop and leaned down to nip at his thigh. His legs jerked and he laughed softly against you. His finger picked up the pace and he carefully slid in a second finger. You stilled, adjusting to the new stretch and then went back to bring him to your mouth. You licked up and down, swirling your tongue around the tip, eliciting another deep groan. 

His body quivered under yours and you frowned as he pushed your hips away from his face. Confusion came over you and you barely had time to open your mouth before he'd flipped you and was nudging your legs open with his knee. He pulled your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles in the process. He brushed the tip of his cock teasingly against your opening, causing you to squirm. He plunged into you and your back arched, pushing your chest up against his. He let out a guttural moan as he sank into you, pushing his pelvis into yours. He rocked into you experimentally, finding the right rhythm. When you cried out, he grinned, yellow eyes flashing in the small streams of light coming through the window.

He lifted your legs a bit higher, squatting over you as he thrusted into you in a mating press. He threw his head back and growled, coiled hair bouncing with each movement. You inched closer and closer with him. Reaching down between you, you started to rub your clit. Feeling the movement, he looked back down, eyes entranced by your motions. "That's it, honeybun. I love watching you touch yourself. Don't stop." He eased off of you a little bit to allow your hand slightly more room. His balls slapped against your ass, loud smacking resounding through the room. 

His hips stuttered as he neared and you watched his brow crinkle in frustration as he tried to hold out. You reached up, grabbing his chin with your hand. "You better not. Wait for me."

He nodded, eyes hazing over as he focused on the rhythm. You gripped his forearm that was by your face, gently pressing a kiss to it. A smile spread across his blissed-out face and pressed his face into your neck, his moans going straight to your ears. His tail flicked wildly, and he whimpered, "Please, let me."

"Okay," you mumbled, losing yourself to his body.

You both came together, him shooting spurts of sticky cum into you, you clenching around him, milking him. He cried out your name as you gasped and whined into his ear. His body slowed gradually and he held you close, rolling onto his back and taking you along with him. You breathed hard, your heartbeat matching his. You rested together, unable to move, completely spent. 

He ran his fingers down your spine, silent for a moment before, "I knew you would still gasp like that."

You quirked an eyebrow at him and traced a nimble finger down his torso. "...Fine, you were right."

He laughed softly as you cuddled into his side and his arm curled around you.

#recom ja #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #recom avatar

[st-danger]

Rain Going into Heat For the First Time, Starting to Masturbate and One of the Ghouls Walking in On Him Plus Offering to Fuck Him?

He dribbles over his knuckles for the third time and feels no relief. None. His cock stays hard, his balls still ache, and all he has to show for it is another mess. He's cleaned himself up with his shirt twice before, and this time is no different; dejected, he wipes his hand onto the cotton, balls it up, and throws it at the floor.

Alone in his room, he presses his face against his pillows and groans, frustrated and helpless.

He knows what this is. He's been told about it. He knows what is part and parcel with ghouls existing on Earth. But he feels wildly unprepared for the reality of it, for how strong the ache in his pelvis is. Prepared or not, he's dealing with it now, and he thought for sure he'd be able to get through this on his own. Unfortunately, his hips are already twitching forward, looking for something to rut against of their own accord, and Rain knows he's out of control.

He could get someone. He knows that. For some reason actually asking one of his pack for help seems...embarrassing? For whatever reason. He knows it isn't.

He knows it isn't, but he's already reaching for himself again, squeezing. In his grip, his cock throbs like it hasn't been touched at all, and drools out a thick glob of pre.

Rain stops counting.

The feelings get worse. Stronger. He stops trying to wipe himself up after every orgasm, and his cum pools on his belly. The sheets feel like sandpaper on his skin, his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, and he just keeps jerking himself, holding his balls and tugging roughly, lip worried between his teeth.

He's in the verge of losing it yet again when-

"Rain, you okay?" It's Swiss’s muffled voice and a heavy knock on his door. Rain panics.

"Fine, I'm fine," he starts to say, letting go of his cock, but he's past the point of no return anyway, and he shoots, messy everywhere, cock jerking wildly.

He should have locked his door.

Swiss is cracking it open before he has time to protest and suddenly Swiss is shutting it behind him, looking at Rain, exhausted and covered in his own spend and looking utterly pathetic.

"Um," Rain tries. He sits up, pulls a blanket over to cover himself, but the damage has been done. His face burns.

"Yeah, that's what we thought," Swiss says, voice gentle. Rain groans, curls into himself a little more.

"Fuck. Does everyone know?"

"We, ah. We could smell it on you. Last night." Swiss clears his throat, taking a few steps closer. "Heat's are..."

"Rough," Rain mutters, and looks up to meet Swiss’s kind eyes and expression and his stomach twists painfully when Swiss winks.

"Yeah but we know what makes them better," Swiss says, smiling. Another step closer. Then another. And another until he's kneeling before Rain, reaching out to lay a cool palm gently against Rain's feverish cheek. The contact makes his dick twitch, and his throat clicks when he swallows. He feels frozen, and is struck with the intense desire to throw himself at Swiss, to beg for it.

"What makes it better?" he croaks.

Swiss smoothes his thumb over Rain's cheekbone, and then drops his hand to Rain's bony knee, exposed under the sheets Rain has balled up and held to his lap. His fingers feel so soothing where they touch his bare skin, and his head spins.

"Do you want help? Swiss whispers, eyes dark and searching. "From me or any of us."

He's breathless and unable to steady or calm his racing heart. Swiss stays still, waiting for permission.

Rain crumbles.

"Help me," he pleads, already feeling his balls pulling up tight again, even with a lack of direct simulation.

Swiss’s hand pushes under the sheets, up bare thigh and Rain chokes.

"Ask me," Swiss says. The hand creeps closer and closer to where he needs it most. "Use my name."

Rain is beyond caring about any potential shame. The dizziness is back, his stomach hurts. It's like he hasn't cum at all.

"Help me through it, Swiss."

"Gladly," Swiss’s voice drops down to a low growl and his hand is wrapping around Rain's cock and-

#st-speaks #ghost #the band ghost #nameless ghouls #ghost fanfiction #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost headcanons #rulti #swiss/rain #swiss x rain

[moistmailman]

Jaune: I can't believe you destroyed my bed.

Nora: It was a bacon accident.

Jaune: I can't even fathom what that's supposed to mean. All I know is that I have no where to sleep now.

Nora: Cheer up, you can just share a bed with Pyrrha.

Jaune, blushing: I-I can't do that!

Nora: Why not?

Jaune, blushing: Cause she's a girl and I'm a boy!

Nora:......so? Renny and I sleep together and he's a boy. What's the problem?

Jaune, blushing more: W-what if we accidentally cuddled while sleeping?

Nora, shrugging: Cuddling with Pyrrha Nikos sounds more like a dream come true if anything.

Jaune: Nora!

Nora: Relax. That stuff only happens in fanfictions and we live in reality. I promise you that the chances of that happening is low.

Jaune, sighing: Okay, fine....I guess I'll ask Pyrrha if it's okay.

Nora, smiling: That's the spirit. I doubt Pyrrha is going to cuddle into you tonight. That'll be too cliche.

*LATER*

Pyrrha: *sleeping peacefully*

Jaune, blushing: *internally* Just go to sleep. Just go to sleep. Don't think about the fact that you're sharing the bed with the most beautiful girl at beacon. Just relax and-

*Suddenly Jaune feels arms wrap around him from behind*

Jaune, blushings madly: OH FUCK, IT'S HAPPENING! ITS ACTUALLY HAPPENING!!!

*Pyrrha's grip tightens*

Jaune, internally: WHAT DO I DO?! WHAT DO I DO!? OH GOD, I FEEL THEM PRESSING AGAINST BACK! GO AWAY DIRTY THOUGHTS! GO AWAY DIRTY THOUGHTS!

*suddenly one of Pyrrha's arms move to Jaune's neck*

Jaune, internally:....wait, what? What is she doing no-

*Pyrrha's grip tightens*

Jaune, internally: W-w-what is s-she doi-

*Pyrrha tightens her grip again*

Jaune, in a chokehold: *internally* FUCK FUCK FUCK, I CANT BREATH! GO BACK TO CUDDLING! GO BACK TO CUDDLING! *Starts thrashing violently* WHAT IS SHE DOING?!

Pyrrha, smiling while sleeping peacefully: *dreaming about choking out Cardin in a spar*

Jaune: *thrashes slowly stops as he loses consciousness*

Pyrrha: *Lessens her grip*

Jaune: Zzzzzzzz

Pyrrha: Zzzzzzzz

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #arkos #pyrrha x jaune #lie ren

[sadnymi]

"My Dreams Are Just Dreams... Until They're Not" modern Mattheo riddle × reader [ chapter four ]

[previous chapter] [Next chapter]

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language,childhood trauma ,abusing, cheating ( not the main characters)

Please understand that from this chapter onwards, the story will delve into darker themes. I urge you to pay close attention to the trigger warnings provided.

words:2,128

Reading Time : 8mins 30sec

Summery : A week at my best friend's beach house, surrounded by our friends as we meet her soon-to-be fiancé's companions, marks a turning point where the very fabric of my beliefs begins to unravel. It's during this week that I encounter the boy who incessantly appears in my dreams, blurring the distinction between the world of my subconscious and the tangible reality before me. Matthe Riddle emerges as the poison I willingly imbibe, a curse that feels akin to a dream, weaving its tendrils into the very essence of my being.

[ Gif is not mine ]

That's the sinister aspect of ghosts

they whisper secrets from the shadows,

revealing truths that haunt your mind and pursue you relentlessly, leaving behind clues that lead you deeper into a forgotten past.

They shroud the present in darkness, obscuring your vision and dragging you down into a murky abyss of fear and uncertainty.

"I know what I saw. He was here, right there, looking at me," I assert, feeling the weight of their sympathetic gazes bearing down on me. What I despise most is that I'm beginning to doubt myself, to entertain the notion that my mind conjured him up again in the most horrifying way imaginable, solely to torment me

"I believe you, y/n. But perhaps you've been sleep-deprived and stressed lately, skipping meals and—"sarah tried to speak

"I'm fine, and I slept well. Just ask Mattheo."

"What does Mattheo have to do with any of this?" Julie inquires, her tone laced with confusion.

“ penny comes closer to me saying softly “ Okay... I mean, there's nothing here now, right?"places her hands on my shoulders, offering reassurance. "We should head out and not let that bastard ruin our night, right?" She nods at me, and I force myself to focus on her words, ignoring the sympathetic looks from the boys and, most importantly, Mattheo's piercing gaze.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's go," I reluctantly agree, mustering a feeble attempt at a smile as they all head towards the door, leaving me behind to cast one last glance at the closed door before turning to face Mattheo, who remained there, waiting for me.

"He was there—I'm not losing my mind," I assert, desperate for him to understand the turmoil raging within me.

I try to decipher the emotions etched across his face. Is it pain? Hurt? Or something else, something I'm weary of ignoring?

“I know, love," he responds, And once again, the familiarity of that damn word "love" echoes in the air, as if it's where it’s belong like I heard it before so so many times

"Come here, give me your hand," he offers, extending his hand towards me. I hesitate for a moment,

unsure of what to make of his gesture, before finally placing my hand in his. His grip is firm yet gentle, as if he's holding on for dear life, as if this moment is the culmination of a lifetime of waiting. His touch sends shivers down my spine .

"Come on, guys, what's taking you so long?" Lorenzo's voice breaks the tension, and I allow him to lead me towards the door, Mattheo's grasp on my hand never faltering.

Once we finally out of the door making our way to the beach we keep a few steps between us and our friends

"Do you... do you believe in ghosts?" I asked him in a hushed tone, ensuring none of our friends could overhear us.

"Not really," he replied softly.

"I think ghosts are souls that were meant to have more time, souls that linger here, waiting for something,or someone to free them cause they deserve much better " he explained his words carrying a weight of sorrow and uncertainty.

"What if the ghost belonged to someone bad, someone who did terrible things and harmed many people?" I questioned, the fear creeping into my voice.

"Is that someone the one you saw in this room?" he inquired gently.

I wrestled with the decision to confide in him. He was supposed to be a stranger, yet he felt like the only anchor in a sea of chaos.

"Who are you, Mattheo?" I whispered, my exhaustion seeping through every word. I felt like a ghost myself, a mere shadow of who I once was, still trapped in his life.

He gazed at me, a profound look that conveyed his pain. I shouldn't have been able to sense it, shouldn't have known something so intimate. Glancing at our friends, who were now more than ten steps away, I hesitated before placing my other hand – the one he wasn't holding – on his heart.

"You're in pain," I stated, and once again, that inexplicable feeling of something more, something precious and mysterious, enveloped us. His eyes shifted to my hand on his chest.

“Why are you in pain?" I asked, feeling the sting of tears threatening to escape. The two of us, entangled in our own pain, faced a darkness that seemed insurmountable.

He remained silent, as if articulating his feelings would intensify the pain. "Before I sleep, I heard you. You said you're going to fix everything. What does it mean?" I questioned, and he responded by placing his hands on mine, offering a soft smile. "You ask so many questions," he teased, a tactic I was keenly aware of and detested.

"I'm not falling for your trap. Using that smile to distract me won't work," I asserted, determined to resist his charms. However, his smirk persisted, and he remarked, "It seems like it's not working from here, love. I think you're blushing." I freed both my hands from his grasp.

"You're wrong. I'm frustrated. Don't you know the difference?" I retorted.

"Yeah, I think I know the difference," he smirked again, and I felt ensnared by his voice, his words, and those captivating eyes. Shaking my head, I began to walk away, distancing myself from the magnetic pull he exuded, and headed towards our friends.

The journey didn't take long before signs of the fire and the soothing sounds of the ocean reached my senses. I closed my eyes, allowing the scent of the sea to envelop me.

I endeavored to ignore him as much as possible, wrestling with myself not to glance in his direction, suppressing thoughts about whether he, too, might be casting his gaze upon me.

Seated on the sand, I forced a smile, trying to engage in the conversation with my friends. However, my mind was preoccupied with someone specific, and I struggled to suppress thoughts about his hands – their size compared to mine and their explorations across different parts of my body. I took a deep breath, attempting to calm myself, but memories of his touch lingered. Recollections of dreams, including an intimate one that wet dream wasn’t the first I had of him maybe the first if me whispered his name like a prayer, plagued my mind. I resented my thoughts and the unsettling sensations in my core, especially recalling a dream where he was intimately close, between my legs, and kissed me as if his life depended on it.

Hugging my knees tightly, I attempted to banish the sinister thoughts plaguing my mind, but to no avail. Not even the soothing sound of the ocean or the gentle breeze could calm the storm raging within me.

After taking a deep breath and closing my eyes in an attempt to calm myself, the raging fire inside me persisted. Excusing myself from the group, I navigated through the dancing and inebriated crowd towards the drinks table. Without hesitation, I grabbed a cup and quickly downed its contents, hoping it would extinguish the turmoil within me. Yet, despite my efforts, the flames continued to burn relentlessly

Then, I felt his presence behind me, his shadow consuming me. Closing my eyes, I sensed his hands on my waist, pulling me closer. "Is that also frustrating?" he whispered softly in my ear, and I hummed softly, hating how my body betrayed me.

"What is it, my love? Is something bothering you?" I tried to speak, but I couldn't trust my voice. Shaking my head, he asked again, biting my ear softly. , "No,"he whispered ones more and his grip tightened.

"Because whatever it is, I'm pretty sure it's not just frustrating right now." Stepping back, he left me angry and breathing heavily. I turned to him, angry and breathing heavily, unable to speak or control my body. He looked at me with a smirk, acknowledging the frustration evident in my eyes.

My eyes drifted to his arms and a specific tattoo, and he must have noticed because he grabbed my waist again, pulling me closer.

I touched his tattoo hastily, asking, "What does that mean?" Looking into my eyes, he smiled softly, answering, "Just a family

"Mattheo, I..." attempting to speak, but it felt as though I had lost the ability to, my body devoid of control. "I think... I think that—"

"What do you think, baby?" he interrupted.

"I think you might be the boy of my dreams," I uttered. His laughter washed over me, and suddenly, it hit me how my words really sounded and the embarrassment of it engulfed me. I attempted to pull away from his grasp, but his strong arms refused to release me.

"No... I mean literally, you always show up in my dreams. You were always there, every night, every day, every single dream. I know it's you, and I was sure of it after I—I said your name in one of them," I confessed.

"Did you?" he asked, his breath tracing my neck as he leaned in close.

"Yeah," I managed to say, feeling his presence enveloping me.

"What was I doing in that specific dream, love?" he asked, leading me to a more private corner. I didn't notice until my back hit a wall, and I found myself gazing into his eyes, feeling as though he could see right through my soul.

"You were...," I began, struggling to find my voice under his intense gaze and the pressure of his hands on my waist.

"What was I doing to you in that dream, baby?" he pressed, asking once more his dominance palpable. I felt compelled to answer, to do whatever he wanted me to do.

“ you were touching me “ I looked away from him

His hand on my face forced me to meet his intense gaze. "Where?" he pressed.

I hesitated, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment. "You know," I whispered shakily.

"No, I don't," he murmured, his lips almost brushing against mine.

“ down there “ I shakily replied. He smirked, his other hand making its way to the part I needed him the most. He started rubbing, and I couldn't help but moan. “ there ? “ he asked and I think I said yes or I wanted to

He started rubbing slow circles around the outside of my hole… gently flicking my clit back and forth without actually rubbing it “ was I doing that too? “ he teased, and I nodded, trying to hold back my moans and the tears in my eyes.

"Don't hold back on me. Let me hear that beautiful voice," he urged. "Mattheo," I said his name like a prayer. I gasped, eyes rolling back as he rubbed at me, spreading my wetness all over. His fingers slipped teasingly between my sensitive folds, and I whined through his ministrations, begging for something I didn't fully understand.

"Shhh," he whispered, leaning forward until I felt surrounded by him. "It's okay, love. Tell me what else I did in your dream." I struggled to speak, my body overwhelmed by his touch. "All you have to do is tell me, love," he coaxed. I slowly nodded my head, wrapping my hand around his forearm. When I looked at him, he met me halfway for a kiss. It was sweet, but soon it escalated into more as he pinched my clit between his fingers.

"Spread your legs, baby," he commanded, and I complied, feeling a deep desire to fulfill his every wish. With his lips on my neck and my hands in his hair, I tried to open my eyes and control my moans.

In the midst of this intense moment, I felt a shiver race down my spine as I caught sight of the ghost once more. Its spectral form hovered nearby, its eyes boring into us with an eerie intensity. Despite my attempts to dismiss it as a trick of the light or a figment of my imagination, the ghost's presence felt undeniably real. A wave of fear washed over me as I struggled to comprehend what I was seeing.

Tag list

@hereticdance

#mattheoxreader #fluff imagines #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle