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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 months

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Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: The pie thief has struck again. You know who it is but how to prove it? The answer is on the tip of his tongue.

Words: ~900

A/N: So this is SPN fic number two. The idea of Dean being such a pie fiend that he would steal someone else's pie from the fridge and deny it afterwards, really amused me. I obviously didn't get the desire to kiss him out of my system after the first SPN fic I wrote so here's another one 😂 It's not smut but there is mild adult themes which is why I ask minors not to read or interact. Reader is as generic as I can make but I have referenced as female. I hope you enjoy, and as always, I value your feedback and comments 💖

Warnings: kissing, mild violence, bad language as standard. Dean is an asshole. Reader is a bit of an asshole too. They're probably made for each other.

*** Minors do not read or interact ***

Dean Winchester. You hate him. His arrogance, his smug superiority, the way he always acts like he’s untouchable… his goddamn pretty mouth. Ugh! Asshole!

You didn’t always hate him – you had known him for years, one hunter to another – but, since you had been forced to stay with both he and Sam in the bunker these last couple of months, he had really grated on your nerves.

After your hunt of a large nest of vampires had gone wrong, you had become the hunted. Your home decimated, your family too precious to put at risk by you staying with them; you had needed help.

Sam had insisted, so you agreed to stay with them until your vamp problem could be solved. Only the nest turned out to be much bigger and far wider spread than you had first thought, and it was taking time for even the infamous Winchester brothers to put an end to.

The light in the refrigerator is stark as you stare inside. It’s gone. You slam the door, raging internally. Why can you not have anything to yourself in this goddamn place?

“DEAN!” You shout angrily at the top of your lungs, knowing he can hear you from his room down the hall, even with his music playing.

He won’t respond to you. He never does. Why should he? You’re just some girl he’s got to put up with for a while. Some girl he made a pass at that first week you were here, but you shut him down and he’s been an asshole to you ever since.

You storm up to his door and bray your fist against the wood as hard as you can. “I know you’re in there! Get your ass out here now!” You shout and hammer your fist against the door until you hear him moving inside.

The door clunks as he unlocks it, and it swings open to reveal him stood in the doorway in a navy blue robe and slippers. The light from his lamp is dim but warm, his music a moderate volume for the late hour. He looks irritated that you’ve disturbed him, that quizzical frown and pout are a dead giveaway. Good.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He smirks at you.

“You!” You push past him, and he doesn’t try to block you.

“What now?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve had this argument and it probably won’t be the last. Whenever Sam isn’t around, Dean always does something to piss you off, like he’s trying to bait you.

“You ate my pie! AGAIN!”

His expression is schooled into that self-righteous assuredness it always is when you confront him. His hands go to his hips – which looks ridiculous because of the robe – and he shifts his weight onto his other foot.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He says with a frown, and it’s entirely plausible that you’ve made a mistake, except it’s just the two of you here and you didn’t eat the damn pie. “I haven’t seen any damn pie.”

“Oh yeah?!” You square up to him, looking up into his eyes, unblinking, unphased.

“Yeah!” He doubles down, firmly meeting your stare, leaning closer as if you would be intimidated by that.

It’s a short distance you need to cover and he is unprepared. You expect him to push you away but he flounders, arms flailing and uncoordinated when you grip the lapels of his robe and pull him towards you.

When your lips meet he puckers up and blinks in shock, but you don’t give him time to realise what’s happening. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him tight as you slip your tongue between his lips, plundering his mouth.

It takes a beat, but he responds by gripping your hips and holding you against him, moaning into your mouth as he opens up to you. The heat of his response takes you by surprise, but it shouldn’t have, really. He’d wanted this since the first few days you were here. Wanted you.

You ravage his mouth, your hands in his hair, making it messy as you practically melt into his arms. His tongue plays perfectly with yours, his lips soft and yielding. Dean Winchester is an exceptional kisser. This fact makes you hate him even more.

As you pull back, breathless, Dean grins at you. He looks happy and care-free, like the cat that got the cream. Your face, however, holds a scowl.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” His expression changes to concern.

You lick your lips and it’s just as you thought, the sweet buttery goodness of pie crust and the pleasant tartness of sour cherry. You slap him across the face – not hard but just enough to get his attention – and stride to the door leaving him confused.

“What the hell?!” He rounds on you, his arousal tenting his robe.

“Don’t you dare eat my pie again.”

You leave your warning hanging in the air along with his frustration. A smirk playing on your lips at the sight you had just left behind you; Dean Winchester with kiss-swollen lips and a hard-on for you. It isn’t the worst thing you’ve seen but you still hate him, even if there’s now something else there along side it.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester kiss #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader kiss #spn #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #cloudy's writing

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rubywithecat · 5 months

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—— Being poccessive ——

Hello! It’s been a while since I write but I am always active here, reading other writers’<3 I am like having a really important academic year which is gonna end in next three months finally! But as I just get to watch new season of jjk I’m like wanting to write so much once again. I hope u guys will enjoy this as well <3 Thanks loves ily^^

T/W: Minors do not interact. Mature content included.

Gojo Satoru: (Jealous type)

He’s always jealous when someone has given u unnecessary attention. Even tho you are talking to your classmate long enough, if it’s a guy, Gojo would act so jelaous about it. He would give silent treatment and is the type to drive his car in speed when he’s mad at you. You would just grab the handle tightly and beg him to speed down. At home, he would be aggressive with you when he’s jealous. He would pushed you to bed and tears your clothes down and kiss you, leaving bite marks all over your neck where it’s seen. And he would fck you (don’t expect to me gentle;) and cum inside you. “Say that you’re mine” he would kiss your lips till it sore to make others realize that you are his only.

Megumi Fushiguro (I don’t care but I actually do care type)

He won’t get jealous in small cases. But if someone show interest in you noticeably, he will give a death glare to them. He would grab your waist tightly, holding you closer. You would tease him if he’s jealous and he would just deny it, feeling embarrassed. If you give him a little kiss on his cheek, he will blush and can’t help but smile. After he made other guy excuse himself, he would hold your hand tightly and walk togther, making everyone knows that you are his and proud about that. He wouldn’t also hesitate to do a huge make out session once u are alone with him, having your lip stains on his cheeks.

Toji Fushiguro (Obey me type)

He wouldn’t straightforward say that but he would look at you with resting face. It’s so scary so u would excuse urself and go to him. “What’s wrong babe” you asked him, giving puppy eyes. He looks down and frowned. He grabs your hips with his big hands and squeezes it, making u a small “ahh” He smirked and whispered. “Tell them that only I can make u feel this good, brat” He would continue to tease u by touching ur sensitive spots and make u moan helplessly. When ur begging so much, he would say like “if you behave next time, I will give what u want. Ok?” U nodded cuz u can’t speak as his hands are chocking ur neck already as he fingers you and then he would take u to somewhere more private, likely to his car and fcks u right there and makes u can’t speak other than his name.

Sukuna Ryomen (You’re dead type)

U are realy dead if he sees u being friendly to a guy he doesn’t have good feeling about with. He would pull your hand and dragged u with him without saying anything. And he would pushed u to the bed when u arrive him and he would start to tease u and turn u on. When u think he’s gonna fck u, and ur waiting for it, being ready. He would laugh and put his clothes on. “Look at u being so needy Awwn” he would say in mocking voice. “Too bad I don’t have a mood right now” he would leave u hanging. Later enough torturing u, not giving what u want, he would make u phone the guy who’s previously flirting with u and make u talk with him about unfinished work interrupted by him earlier and he would fck u aggressively behind, making them hear sounds on purpose. After finishing, he would grab your phone and take the call himself and tell the guy like “I’m sorry kid but only I can fck her like this so don’t ever even fantasize her in ur dream or else I would slice u in pieces. Do u understand?” He then ended the call and tell u like “next round?”, smirking.

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(Likes and shares would be really appreciated <3 Feel free to share ur thoughts and request are also open now) Thanks<33 Sry if it’s short! I will make up for it later <33

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jasmines-library · 7 months

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Catch me If I fall

WHUMPTOBER DAY 12: prompt: self harm

Fandom: Batfam

Summary: after the death of Jason, you can’t help but feel guilty, so you resort to some unhealthy coping methods.

Warnings: SELF HARM, blood, character death, depressive thoughts.

Word count: 1.3k

Note: this one is extremely sensitive and contains many trigger warnings, please read at your own discretion.

Remember, If you are ever struggling, please don’t be ashamed to reach out. My DMs are always open, or you can seek one of many helplines. Please remember, you are not alone and there are people who will help you navigate your thoughts and feelings. You are strong, you are loved, you are perfect.

M ASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

He was gone.

Jason Todd was gone. Dead. Killed in an explosion that would forever be burned into the front of your brain. The sound replayed itself over and over again in your mind; the shattering of the glass and the groaning of the metal frames as they collapsed in on eachother, the deafening booming of the explosive and the scuffing of your feet on the concrete as you stopped dead in your tracks, too far away to help and too late to reach him in time.

At first, the tears refused to fall from your cheeks as you surged forwards racing towards where the warehouse once stood. You arrived at the wreckage at the same time as the Bat. When he pulled Jason’s body from the wreckage, limp with eyes devoid of life, the tears still refused to fall. You just watched blankly as he held his son, trying not to focus on the mangled, blood covered flesh that covered every inch of his skin. Even in death Jason looked pained, his face permanently contorted into an unseeing gaze of pain.

Returning back to the manor and breaking the news to Dick was even harder. You watched as he flung the nearest thing across the room and let it shatter on the floor. You picked the skin around your fingers as he sunk down onto the floor and broke down, tears cascading down his face. Fat and hot like heavy droplets of rain falling from the sky. But still, your own stubbornly refused to fall.

It was only hours later when you had locked yourself away in your room that you let out a shrill cry of anguish, falling to the floor. Heavy sobs wracked your body as you trembled digging your nails into palms and biting down harshly on the inside of your cheeks, You blinked away your tears the fell freely, squeezing them from your eyes as you squeezed them tight, trying to shut out the constant memory of Jason Todd.

It was then that the thoughts came flooding to you. Obnoxious, penetrating thoughts that hit you like a ton of bricks. You should have gotten there quicker. If you had just stuck with Jason or forced him to keep his comms on then. It was your fault that he had gone off on his own. It was your fault that Jason Todd was dead.

Your suit was damp with tears and clung too close to your body. You felt suffocated. As you began to push off your boots, your bowie knife that you usually kept tucked away for emergencies clattered to the ground, You froze. It was the one that you had been given when you began your vigilante training with Bruce all those years ago. You picked it up, flipping the leather-bound hand between your palms and admiring the way that the metal glinted as it caught the light.

Some sane part of your body screamed at you not to do it. That it was wrong, that your family would be disappointed if they found out. But the other overpowering side still echoed with those thoughts. You couldn’t help but sink deeper into the guilt. And so you brought the knife down to your flesh, barely recognising the pain as the red ribbons formed on your skin.

That feeling of guilt never went away. It still sat there like a heavy weight even after Jason returned 6 months later. Although Jay was back, he was changed. Haunted by his own memories, he struggled to re-adjust to his life especially after the memories of his brutal murder flooded back to him. It took him a while to come to terms with his safety. It was only once the two of you had spent many nights clinging on to each other and giving reassurances that he finally allowed himself to relax slightly.

But the boy’s return didn’t just affect him. The sudden shift had troubled all of you, flipping your lives which you had slowly managed to learn to navigate without him upside down.

You began to retreat into your room again, spending more time alone. You slunk around the manor, avoiding the others when possible. It was something that didn’t go unnoticed by Dick who often lingered by your door, but was too afraid to knock or barge his way in. Opting to give you space. The space never helped though. It just became a void of guilt and constant reminders of your sluggishness. Although the image of Jason’s frail body never quite left your mind, his return brought it back stronger. It began to plague your nightmares again, causing you to wake up in a cold sweat. It caused the silence to morph into muffled cries and with that came the return of old habits.

Trailing your finger over the lines of scar tissue, your body felt numb. Silent, you left yourself with the stickiness of hot tears trailing down your face; each one a reminder of your failures. Of the times that you weren’t perfect enough to save everybody. The knife ran sharply across your skin, allowing the blood to bead as it trailed. The stinging allowed a sense of relief for a while. That was until it didn’t. After that, you turned to pressing deeper into your complexion, allowing the blood to dribble from your arm.

Dick lingered in front of your door once again. He hadn’t seen you all day and had begun to grow worried. Deep creases lined his brow as he stood, shut out from you by the painted wood. He knew you hadn’t been in the best of places since his little brother had been ripped so cruelly from the world. Dick hated watching you retreat. He loathed that sad look and far away gaze that settled on your face when he thought no one was looking. His hand was hovering as he prepared to knock when he noticed his younger brother waltz around the corner. Jason slowed furrowing his brows.

“What are you doing?” He quizzed. Though not oblivious to your struggle, he didn’t believe in getting involved in someone else’s business. Especially when he was still trying to short his own shit out.

Dick only said one word which sent the two men into a preganant silence. “Listen.”

Your sobs and outbursts of frustration could be heard from the other side of the door frame. The younger of the two recoiled at the noise. Dicks hand moved towards the door handle after knocking and being blanked.

The door shuddered open and Dick poked his head around the corner. He froze, heart dropping to his feet when he took you in.

Your knees were pulled tightly to your chest, where your head rested grimly. Your wrists were a bloody mess like the knife which lay a few feet away from you. You half-nursed them carefully, as though you knew something about them was off, but you couldn’t get yourself to care enough about it.

“Oh god…”

He took cautious, but long strides steps to get to you before taking your arms in his, not caring abou there stickiness that coated his clothes and spilled down his fingers. There was so much of it he was surprised it still fell from your body.

You tried not to acknowledge him in away, but once your lifted your head and spotted his face, the tears began again. Dick pulled you into a height embrace as the tears began to fall again

“I-I’m sorry.” You stumbled, “I..”

“Shh.” Dick coaxed, pulling you into his arms: “nothing is your fault.”

“But I- Jason. I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Oh little bat…” Jason squatted down by his brother. “There’s nothing you could have done about that.”

“Yes there is. I could have convinced you to-“

“Stop it.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmured. “I’m sorry but they won’t leave. Make them leave please.

“We will baby bat. We will.

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 11 ⛤ DAY 13 ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

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xxkiller-muffinxx · 4 months

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That's my girl

John Dory x reader part 2/2

Summary: John Dory shows up out of nowhere (again), but with that he brings trouble, the trouble of the mind and the heart.

Words: 2582

Warnings: too much fluff, it hurts- also still no color coding cuz I'm lazy and when I'm writing this its almost midnight.

A/N: welp, this is longer than my usual. Yeah this is part 2 to a thing that honestly wasn't supposed to be in parts, but new years was banging so you know I had to. Little Thing, if the caterpillar snail confuses you, imagine a motor bike, I tried to word it better: but some things are just not made to make sense. Aso don't judge the gif choice man, desperate times come for desperate measures. I forgot to add tags again 😔

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For a while, you kept your distance again. Wondering how this all happened. How everything went downhill for you so fast. Now that you have the house to yourself you now have a lot of dead air to think about. (Your dad’s not dead, he just wanted to seek a path in white water rafting. Whatever that means.)

You silently read an old scrapbook, it was your favorite genre and you loved just sitting down and getting to the end. Especially on rainy days like these. Right as you got to the climax there was a knock on the door. Admittedly you aggressively rolled your eyes.

You closed the book and set it aside, who's knocking at this hour? Right before midnight? Your book needs reading! your fish needs walking! You don’t have a fish, you're just irritated, you can’t read your book. As you closed in on the door you stopped. What if it’s an intruder? Or worse, a monster who suddenly gained the sentience to knock! You would never know until-

“Buttercup?” John Dory’s voice shakes through the door, There’s faster knocking. “It's cold out here!”

You've never opened a door so fast in your life.

As soon as John made it inside you glared hard at him. You wanted to scold him but your silent anger was getting nowhere. He was too busy admiring the inside of your home. Then his eyes landed on you.

You breathed heavily, walking over to grab your book and then walking back to him. He gave you the same dumb, doe-eyed look he always does when he's gotten himself in a bit of trouble. You gently slapped the book on his stomach then walked to put it on the shelf. His quiet shocked laugh brought you back to the center.

You pointed for him to sit and quickly made him some hot cocoa perfect for the season. You walked over and sat next to him. Handing him the glass. “Thanks Buttercup. You mean the world to me.” He chugged the hot cocoa, just fast enough to not catch the break in your calmness traded for bashfulness.

When you calm back down, you cross your arms. Your nose flaring and your lip pouting. John looks you in the eyes, his lips pursing as he thought about a good response. “Can you blame me? You have me wrapped around your finger.” He says playfully.

Your eyebrow raises. You don’t flinch or retreat. You narrow your eyes at him. His grin falls as he catches your unwavering worry. “I uh. I just missed you. It’s been a week and I wanted to see you. At least once.” When you didn’t accept that as an answer he got a little frustrated. “I know that isn't a good excuse but what do you want from me? To let the one person I've had close in years just drop out like that?”

Your other eyebrow raised, silently asking if he was okay. Then in a moment you caught his cockiness slip. That's when you knew something was wrong. You leaned forward and looked into his eyes ruffling his hair to gain his attention. His eyes met yours and it didn't take him long to pull out a vinyl. “It's the only way I could talk about my feelings to you without being a coward.” he blushed deeply. You cock your eyebrow again then roll your eyes. You stood up and went to put it on your record player.

(feel free to listen then move on or not listen at all)

As the song plays, you listen to the lyrics, your back to John as you listen to the words. His soft voice played on the track and you could almost hear the sweat dripping from his forehead. You were too focused on the lyrics to even look at him.

Your skin, oh, yeah, your skin and bones.

Turn into something beautiful

You know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so.

Then it clicked. This wasn't him just showing you a brozone song. No, no heaven knows you listened to Brozone’s music and it's nothing like this. This is gentle and soft. Not throw yourself into a dance song, but that's what you wanted to do. Take his hand and gently dance with him.

However, when you realize that's wanted, the song is already over. You took a while to realize it, but what had transpired wasn't platonic. Not anymore. It was the bridge that led two ways. You just had to figure out which was which.

“Yeah-” John’s voice cuts you free from your mind. “It's not much, it's kind of rushed. Is that weird? That you were gone for a week and I realized I…I can't even say it out loud. I'm…interested. In you. I wanted to see if you wanted to see where this was going.”

You turn around finally, your hand covering your mouth and your otheraying across your stomach. You wondered how you probably looked crazy, but you didn't care. At least not until he pointed out what should have been obvious. You were crying.

“Buttercup! I didn't mean, oh shoot I didn't think that I'd- I'm sorry I take it back!” He gently began panicking. The pacing panic. You wiped your face and looked at your hands, sure enough you were crying. You shook your head, unsure how to tell him that you were okay, just moved by the fact he'd write a song for you.

He took that as rejection and frowned. “Yeah. Yeah. I get it. It's okay. I understand.” he was about to turn around when you grabbed his arm. Damning your inability to speak. You looked around for a piece of pen and paper. However, there was nothing. (you were not writing in your precious book.)

You were scrambling, trying to communicate, but you were only tearing up and crying more. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. Your eyes watery and your nose red and puffy. He looked away then looked at you. “I am so confused right now.” JD squeezed your hand in return.

You did the unexpected. In a fit of confused, misguided, and intolerant anger. You grabbed his face and kissed him. Right then and there. When you pulled away your eyes were wide and so were his. You were about to move away when he just pulled you back in for another kiss.

The second kiss is more sweet and dedicated than the first, your hands moving to gently press into his chest. His hands gently held your head and waist as if you were to fall. It made you feel safe.

Then you both pulled away relaxing into your spots across from each other and your face turned beet red again. How dare he need that good of a kisser? you were just proving a point and now you're the one wrapped around his finger. You try to look away but with his hand snugly holding your head, you couldn't physically do so.

In silence, John Dory’s smile grew from a smirk to a dopey grin. You felt a wave of embarrassment pass through you. “Sweet mother of all things Trolly! You never cease to surprise me Buttercup!” he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning you around as you giggled very softly again. He then pulled you in for a hug. “I'm glad you feel the same. You don't know how much it means to me.”

You guys stayed in a hug for a while. He was holding you so tight that it felt like he'd never let go, ever. Then you got an idea. You pulled away first, and that admittedly made him confused. You walked to the record player and played his song again. Offering him your hand.

He laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you in for a dance. Not a fast dance, just a slow dance, A comfortable dance. Youve never felt so warm and cozy in your life. Maybe your book can wait for a few more hours. You're not in a rush.

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For the next few years you would have a casual relationship. To the point where no one inherently knew you were dating until John would make some sweet comment about you with your back turned.

As you rode gently into your 30s John was right there beside you. Celebrating each birthday, bigger than the last. You were grateful you got stuck with a guy like John, every day was like a gossip story and he'd tell you every fact about Brozone there ever was. You soon became the team’s number-one fan.

That was, until the unexpected happened. John Dory received a message from his brother that he was in danger. Locked in a diamond prison that only the perfect family harmony could save him from.

“So I have to find my brothers, then save Floyd.” He’d proclaim to you. You raised an eyebrow as you picked up his mess in the bus, he'd probably be taking it and if there were any guests you'd want them to be comfortable. “You know…” he turned around to greet you, walking to throw the trash in the bin outside.

You gave him a look, you knew what he was going to say. “You could come with me, meet my brothers? Join in on the adventure?” he’d ask before you shook your head. You gestured outside and then walked up to him to gently kiss his cheek. “Yeah, I get it, but you're still meeting my brothers, I don't know what I'll have to do for that to happen but you will.” he kissed your forehead and got behind the wheel. You let him know you love him then walk out of his bus to not wait any longer.

You walk to the front of the bus and pet the armadillo before stepping back, and waving goodbye. As he left a pit rolled up in your stomach. A worry pit. You felt like you should've gone with him, but you'd only slow him down. So you went inside. Deciding its a good time to catch up on some reading.

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You learned to live with the pit after a while, you used a small messenger creature to send little I love you notes, but you haven't gotten anything in return. It made it worse, and then right as it neared sundown on the second day he was gone, you had had enough. You walked outside. Going to the corner to pull something out of your sleeve that he’d never expect.

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After the show, John was laughing backstage at something Clay said, holding his stomach as him and his brothers all laughed in unison. He was the first to stop laughing, and when he did. He saw his entire family. Laughing together as if it were the holidays. Which is around a troll’s happiest time.

All that was missing was…

JD’s eyes shot up and he placed a hand on your forehead. “Oh shoot, Buttercup! Oh geez-” he looked up dusting himself and pulling his jacket more clothed and preparing to leave when Bruce chimes in.

“Where are you headed, John?” He’d ask. His voice laced with familiar suspicion. The entire room looks at him, as if awaiting the incredible response he'd spew out now. John stuttered quietly. Then leaned on a wall next to him.

“I have a misses I have to get home to thank you very much.”

There was silent, for a whole minute straight until laughter amongst the brothers (except Floyd honestly) rang out. Everyone's eyes briefly snapped to them. Viva slapped Clay’s arm and he went quiet for a second only to start dying laughing again. Branch wiped a tear and crossed his arms. “You? You have a “misses”? you're just full of surprises.”

JD laughs softly, confused, his brothers are laughing “I'm serious, they're perfect. I want you all to meet them so badly, but they stayed to take care of things there.” He crosses his arms tight over his chest, deciding to just smile through the pain.

JD ignored all the mindless snorts and chuckles after that comment, or tried to anyway. He shook his head “ you'll see, I'll introduce them to you guys and I'm gonna be laughing at you guys!” He walks out to the stage to head home that way.

He grumbled slightly, angry that his brothers would doubt him, but could you blame them? They are brothers after all. he's not grumbling for long because the sound of a growling animal snaps him out of his thoughts. Within an instant, something shoots from the dark, surrounding him in a dirt cloud and the sound of a creature going “meeeeeeeeh” like a motorcycle.

John screamed, a comically loud scream. That attracted everyone inside. They all rushed out only to see the scene unfolding before them. “Hey!” Branch was the first to yell. “Leave our brother alone!” the others banded together and got into fighting poses until everything stopped.

The loud noises, fast movements, and it was just silence for ten seconds until emerging from the cloud was a figure with bucket helmet, and sunglasses over the front. The creature they were riding on was some sort of caterpillar snail, similar to a motorbike.

John looked up at the figure and grinned awkwardly. When the person takes off their mask he gasps louder than he's ever gasped before “BUTTERCUP!” He shoots up. Wrapping you in his arms and lifting you high into the air.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his head until he puts you down. You take off your shades and swing your hair a little bit to get rid of the helmet shape. He was so excited to see you he could explode. “You gave me a good scare, I'm sorry I didn't go home right after saving Floyd I just had to catch up with everyone and do a show with them one last time, you had to see the show, in fact, I think someone recorded it, I'll get that to you as fast as possible!”

“Who is that?” Clay asked, a bit too accusingly. You blush and hide behind JD in fear. He crackles and pushes you forward.

He holds you tight as he introduces you by name. “They are my buttercup, my everything. The one who kept me afloat during all my turmoil. The one who-” You slap him in his arm, causing him to laugh. You bow your head to greet them.

Then you all gather around to talk, enjoying meeting the brothers for the first time. Branch is just the definition of sweet and sour, his girlfriend is the whole package everything you'd want in a party planner honestly. Floyd was the perfect sweetheart and Clay was fun to watch with his small misadventures with Viva. Bruce was definitely the one who talked to you the most, asking you genuine questions about why the hell John dory of all people. You answered as modestly as possible, not having an answer at that moment.

Then you caught sight of John wallflowering. You frowned and walked over, leaning on the same wall he was. He smiled at you, his gaze lingering oh yours for a minute before he kissed your cheek gently. You raised a brow. He laughed softly. “That's my girl.” he’d say before wrapping an arm around you lovingly.

End

#Spotify #fanfiction #trolls #trolls band together #trolls fandom #trolls fanfic #trolls fanfiction #trolls franchise #trolls x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls 3 #john dory trolls #john dory x reader #trolls john dory #john dory #M

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mrsshabana · 9 months

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Patient!Gyutaro x Nurse!Reader - CHAPTER 2

Chapter 1

✦ CW: 18+ MDNI, female reader. Dead dove: do not eat. Non-con, smut, violence, manipulation, mentions of mental illness. ✦ AN: This chapter has disturbing scenes with graphic violence and non-consensual sex. Please read all of the content warnings before continuing.

✦ WC: 1,808

“Good morning Mr.Shabana,” you chime, smiling brightly, bringing a tray with his breakfast into the room.

He stares at you as if he’s seen a ghost, eyes wide, skin pale, breathing at a halt.

“What’s wrong? Are you feeling alright?” you ask as you set his food down on the table.

“I-It’s nothin’...”

“Well, I’ll see you in a few hours Mr.Shabana, feel free to call for me if you need anything in the meantime,” shooting him another kind smile before you exit the room.

His stare drills holes into your back as he watches you leave. He hasn’t felt this annoyed by a new nurse in years. Could it be that you are mocking him?

Pushing his food to the side, he clenches his teeth in frustration. He thought he got rid of you for good. You’re the first nurse that has stayed after he pulled that antic. It always works. But why didn’t it work on you?

He’ll have to come up with another way to get rid of you.

After the first day with Gyutaro, you vowed to do everything in your power to help him heal his physical and mental wounds. Making sure to be kind, considerate, and paying close attention to his needs. The next few days have been surprisingly pleasant. No outbursts or insults coming from him like they once had before. He still doesn’t talk to you, hell he barely even acknowledges you. But it’s better than being assaulted every time you enter his room.

Though you still get that gut feeling that you're in danger every time you are around him. Your hair stands on end and your hands get sweaty. But for the sake of doing your job, you ignore the warnings from your body.

And it seems your persistence is paying off. As your keen eye quickly picked up on some of Gyutaro’s behavior. He only eats pre-packaged food. Why? You have no idea. Might be from some past trauma… maybe you’ll look back into his therapy notes later.

But it’s quite odd. Every time you bring him his meals, he only eats the pre-packaged foods included in his meal. Usually things like cookies and muffins. He can’t be getting more than 500 calories a day.

So, you start going out of your way to buy healthier pre-packaged foods for him. Things like canned tuna, beans, and sometimes potato chips from the vending machine. He’ll only eat it if you give it to him unopened. You want to ask him why he eats like this, but you figure he most likely won’t answer. Plus you don’t want to risk setting him off again.

Your kindness really pisses him off. But he doesn’t hate when you bring him things he’s actually willing to eat. Surprisingly, he doesn’t think much of it. He’s not impressed that you figured out a way to get him to eat, because to him there was no trick. He wasn’t trying to be difficult. It’s just how he is. He won’t eat certain things and he has specific reasons for doing so. However, he isn’t grateful either. He could care less if he starved to death. But it is nice having a full stomach for once. He’s finally starting to feel a bit better, as his strength begins to return. Though, you may soon regret it.

.・゜゜・　♰　・゜゜・．

“Mr. Shabana, are you ready?” You knock on his door and peek inside to see him sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Mm hm,” he nods and stands. His lanky frame towering above you as he follows you out of the room.

Today is Gyutaro’s hydrotherapy session, recommended to be given once every two weeks by his doctor.

And since Gyutaro has been deemed to be a danger to himself, he must be supervised during the session.

You can feel him staring at you as he follows you to the sauna room. You swear his gaze is so spiteful that it causes you physical pain. Every part of your body is screaming at you as you unlock the door and open it for him. But surely you’re just overreacting right? It’s been over a week now with no incident at all. You finally feel as though you are making progress with him, and you aren’t willing to let go of that progress just because of a gut instinct.

“Alright, remove your clothes and I’ll start the bath,” you say as you walk over to the hydrotherapy tub.

He doesn’t respond, but you hear shuffling behind you. Assuming that he’s getting himself ready, you get on your knees and adjust the temperature of the bath. Watching as the water slowly rises and steam fills the room.

Dipping a finger into the water to check the temperature, it feels pleasantly hot.

“There we go,” you smile, “Your bath is ready Mr.Sha-” You begin to turn around but in the blink of an eye your face is engulfed in heat. It all happens so fast, you don’t register what’s going on.

All you know is you can’t breathe, and it’s too hot.

Holding on to the edge of the tub, you try to push yourself up and out of the water. But a strong grip on your neck is preventing you from doing so.

You finally begin to realize the gravity of the situation when you feel Gyutaro’s body pressed up against you. He keeps his hand firmly grasped around the back of your neck, holding your head under the water. And with his other hand he roughly lifts up your skirt and pulls down your panties.

“Stop strugglin’ or else I’ll break your fuckin’ neck,” Gyutaro growls under his breath.

Not only does he hate you because he finds your kindness incredibly annoying, but he also hates you because of how horny you make him. Seeing you in that short skirt every damn day. He gets hard every time you enter his room, and his throbbing cock becomes so persistent that he has to jerk himself off or else he’ll be in a bad mood the entire day.

How dare you tease him like this. Well he’ll show you.

He’ll get to kill two birds with one stone. Satisfying the aching in his pants, and getting rid of you for good. There’s no way you’ll stay after this.

Cackling, he pumps his cock a few times, readying himself at your entrance.

“This is what you get for always teasin’ me…” he grunts as he forcefully shoves his cock inside of you. It takes a few thrusts to bully himself fully inside, as you aren’t wet at all.

You feel like you’re being ripped in half, it stings and burns as he forces his thick cock into your tight hole.

Water fills your mouth as you scream under the water. You panic, and use all of the strength you have left flailing your arms behind you, trying to push him away. But he’s too strong, and he’s between your legs so you can't kick him either.

“Stop it, slut” he shouts, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

After a few thrusts, you start to get a little wet. Not enough to make this comfortable for you, but enough that he’s able to plunge easier into you.

Having been in an Asylum for so long, he’s never had the pleasure of sex before. And even though it’s something he’s fantasized about many times, he never could have imagined how good it’d feel. The way your pussy tightly clenches around him, he feels like he’s already getting close.

Your face begins to lose color, and you stop struggling. The abuse on your pussy is dulled by the pounding in your skull.

Gyutaro notices you’re beginning to lose consciousness. He really doesn’t care about you but if you died now, he’d never be able to fuck you again. And he’s already getting addicted to the feeling of being inside of you… it’d be such a shame if this was the only time he’d be able to use you.

He reluctantly pulls out of you, grabbing you by the hair and pulling your head out of the water.

Instantly you cough up a bunch of water and gasp for air. A devilish grin spreads across his face as he watches you struggle to breathe.

Water and saliva drips down your chin as you open your watery eyes. Your vision is blurry but you can make out his erect cock throbbing in front of you. No wonder it hurt so much, not only is he long but quite girthy as well. Decorated with black spots and large veins, there’s a ring of blood at its base.

He grabs your chin and forces you to look up at him, “Well since you so kindly opened your mouth for me…” he grabs the base of his cock and forces you to take him into your mouth, “Might as well put it to good use.”

You cough and choke as he thrusts into your mouth, his leaking tip ramming against the back of your throat. Digging your nails into his thighs, trying to push him away to no avail.

You hate to admit it, but you much rather have him abusing your throat than your pussy. But it doesn’t help that you’re still struggling to gasp for oxygen. Your lungs burn but you try your best to calm down and breath through your nose while you endure the torture.

It doesn’t take long before you feel his cock twitch and his thrusts get sloppy. Just wanting this to be over as quickly as possible, you suck as fervently as you can. Twirling your tongue around his tip, taking him as deep as you can.

“F-fuck…” he moans, cock twitching as he coats your throat in hot sticky cum. He tightly grips your hair as he rides out his high.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you swallow his cum, not daring to look up at him. It tastes foul, salty, and bitter. It’s thick as it slowly slides down your throat.

He hisses as he pulls out of your mouth. A long string of saliva connecting from your swollen lips to the tip of his cock.

He stands up and looks down at you. Grinning as a deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. You can’t help but cry under his gaze, feeling completely humiliated and ruined. So disgusted with your own body that you don’t even feel like yourself anymore.

“Pathetic whore,” he spits, his saliva landing on your cheek. Grinning in satisfaction as he pulls up his pants and puts his shirt back on.

Without another word he walks out of the room, the heavy metal doors slamming behind him. Leaving you gasping for air on the floor, sore and bleeding from his abuse.

Taglist: @gyusimp @sterzin @sassysaxsolo @gh0stedddd @cry-baby-stuff @hutchilli [If you asked to be added to the taglist and weren't, it may be because your tag didn't work when I searched for it. Or because you don't have your age listed on your blog]

#gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro smut #kny smut #demon slayer smut #nurse au #dead dove do not eat #smut

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blueparadis · 9 months

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꒰ I'D NEVER LEAVE ꒱ ⋮ RIN ITOSHI → [ CONTENT & TAGS ]: fem!reader ( can be read as gn!reader) x rin itoshi, relationship talks, mention of open relationship, angst, undertones of smut, fluff, hurt and comfort. // syn. | Rin never liked the idea of piling up unfinished business, and so he chased you with no expectations. wc -1kish // back to blog navigation.

“Do that again” Rin murmured, keeping his teal irises fixated on yours. Your lips slightly parted as your hand recoiled by mere a graze against his cheeks, as if you were about to get electrocuted at the exposure of his skin but Rin was quick to grab them halfway. He put it back where it was, on his cheeks. “Do that again,” He repeated his plea as he tucked your palm back onto his cheek. “please!” he whispered this time. You pressed your lips together before caressing his cheeks, rubbing your thumb underneath his eye and then moving on to his pulp lips. His eyes are a little puffy and reddish. Had he seriously been crying?

Rin tried to keep up the eye contact with you but the sensation of your warm manicured scented fingertips upon his lips lulled him to close his eyes shut and curl into the cavity of your palm. He turned a little, kissing your palm and then looking at you through the corner of his eyes. It is snowing outside. The world is being painted in white as the dead-cold silence blankets nature, the bare branches, the flowers, the river, and the buildings while Rin's touch wraps around you, like a protective layer. His touch is ice-cold but his eyes seem to tell otherwise.

This is wrong. This is wrong in so many ways because the last time both of you did something that none of you should. And this time it is happening again. Maybe it will escalate into something more but that still would not change the fact that what you are doing is wrong. To him and to you too. Rin grabbed your other hand pulling you close. He is impatient as always. Now his tongue is swiping inside your mouth while your lips are wrapped around his.

“I never loved you. You were a nice little fuck toy, that’s it.” Rin’s poison-laced voice echoed at the back of your head.

You winced feeling his teeth dig into your skin along the column of your neck. His hands are underneath your top, tracing the bones of your back. “We can't do this”, you exclaim pushing him away, his hot breath still lingering on your face, his arms are still under your top but it has now slewed down to your waist. His grip is intact.

“Why not?” he asks as if he was not the one to denote first and break the rules. It was not a surprise that he would be the first one to break rules but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that he would actually end up using the safe word to take a time out from this open relationship and have a talk with you.

Now he is on the verge of doing something that he might regret later. But that is not the worst part of all these; if he did regret then he would not blame you, he would blame himself and wallow in self-pity. It is something that will eventually come back chasing you, not now but eventually because no tide is created by the sea alone, there is always an eclipse involved.

“Because I don't wanna get hurt” You take a deep breath swallowing your tears at the pit of your stomach.

“What makes you think I’m gonna hurt you?” Rin is now holding your hands, so tenderly, so cautiously; it is almost as if a baby bird is trying to fly for the first time.

“Because the last time,” You sniffle and bow your face down to hide your tears. “Because last time you said something awful.” Looking at him again you exhaled thoroughly. “It hurt me.” You added.

There is a tug at the corner of his lips and as you look at him in awe it grows into a smile. “y/n, I have lied to you so many times. Small lies, like how you do when you don’t wanna go out with your friends but spend time with me instead? Saying you are under the weather?” You chuckle at his claim, tears rolling down your cheeks as a deviated outcome of suppressing it back. “I lied. I lied when I said I never loved you. Couldn’t you tell?” He adds and then you two laugh in sync because it is silly.

It is silly because Rin was not your fling, Rin was not even to fit in the sultry label of friends with benefits. He was different somehow. He would not contact you for weeks and then come to your home with snacks and drinks unannounced, talk, and unload himself to lighten himself up. And you? You did the same. There was rarely anything physical but when there was it was so intense that you saw the stars even being laid out on the kitchen counter. It felt vulnerable to be so exposed and at the same time, exhilarating too.

So, what when wrong? What made you hurt so bad and him use the safe word?

A kiss. The answer is a kiss. Because kissing is so intimate yet tempting that Rin thought it would be fun have one rule in this time bomb of open relationship, that is, to not kiss, never on the lips.

“Can i kiss you?” Rin asks for permission this time. Last time he kissed in a room full of people. It was so scandalous and so hungry, hungry for love.

You laugh bowing your head down and looking up saying, “You can.”

And then he kissed you. On the lips, softly grazing his on yours, tenderly sucking, fingers interlacing with yours as he pushed you down on the bed. You blink, you pant and you huff as he undressed himself hovering on top of you. There is an awful headache hammering onto your temples but it soon went away as he kissed from up the crook of your neck, to the column, then onto your cleavage, down to your navel. “That is a hell lot of kissing,” you whispered.

“It sure is,” Rin admitted before focusing on your skin again.

@orchid3a

@angelshub

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sunfyresrider · 11 months

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𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝑳𝒖𝒔𝒕

Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: The story of how you accidentally became fuck buddies with your best friend... who is a werewolf. Tags: Omegaverse, slick, ruts, knots all that stuff. VV minor manipulation, stressed out best friend, begging, cursing, short story mainly smut Author’s Note: This is my first time writing like this so pls be gentle w me. Inspired by a post my queen made a while ago @lovelykhaleesiii Not my best work but it's a filler while I update some other wips and series.

8:30 pm

Aegon was going to be late as usual. In the long years of friendship, you had with him he was never on-time to anything, although neither were you. You sunk into the couch and scrolled through your phone, searching for something to pass the time. At the very worst he would be an hour late, at the best he would be here soon.

9:30 pm

Tiktok was quickly becoming uninteresting and so was any discourse on Twitter you tried to read. The clock ticked on, and Aegon was nowhere to be seen. Your patience was wearing thin, and you couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly caused such a delay. Did something happen to him? Should you reach out to check if he was okay?

10:30 pm

The minutes turned into hours, and fatigue began to set in. Sitting on the couch, your mind drifted to various scenarios, from Aegon getting caught up in an unexpected event to simply forgetting about your plans. Regardless, his disappearance was unusual, even for him. Normally, he would have texted you with an excuse or promised to hang another there.

11:00 pm

As the night grew darker, your concern transformed into frustration. You considered calling or texting Aegon, but a part of you hesitated, not wanting to appear too eager or needy. You were proud, far too proud to let him know he was stressing you the fuck out. Still, you couldn't shake off the worry that something might have gone wrong. You stalked all of his socials, inactive. You tried to check his location, but he turned it off, bastard. You messaged Aemond who politely left you on read, as always.

By now you should accept the fact he’s ghosting you… After years of friendship, it ends like this. What a load of fucking bullshit, a game only Aegon would play. You’re overthinking, maybe he really was hurt or drunk or lost. Too many possibilities raced through your head as you were getting dressed.

12:00 pm

Your anxious nature took over as you stepped into his ancient apartment building made of old brick. In the past he’d been known for going on all types of benders. Even though he had been sober for quite some time it did not quell the thought he may have relapsed. Your worst fears grew more prominent each step you took towards his door. What if he was dead? What if he was missing? What if he really was just ghosting you to fuck another female? All of the above were causing your heart to race and stomach churn.

Bang bang bang

“Aegon! Are you in here?!” you shouted from outside the door, digging into your purse for the spare key. “Aeg! If you don’t answer i'm coming in!” From outside you could hear the sounds of… something inside. You weren’t sure if it was a groan or a moan but neither boded well for you. ‘Fuck it,’ you thought to yourself as you jammed your key into the door. The inside was the same, plain and simple. The black couch still sat in front of the flat screen and the kitchen by the door was completely untouched. As you stalked further inside the small whimpers from his bedroom became more and more clear. He was alive, but he must be with someone else. That almost hurt worse. Even if you were just friends, it was painfully obvious how much you fancied him. You were practically fuming, who the fuck was he with now? Your steps turned into long strides as you neared his door, slamming it open with one hand.

“What the fu-” The scene before you sucked all of the air out of your body. He was alive and… “This isn’t what it looks like!” He jumped, falling off the bed with only a sheet covering him. You were stunned, shocked, confused, and utterly dumbfounded. There he was humping a pillow wi- with a tail? “What the fuck—” you drawled out your words trying to comprehend the situation at hand. There Aegon was, as bare as a baby, with a fluffy tail and ears…

“I can explain, just- just-” Aegon paused to sniff the air, for the first time he noticed your scent. The pheromones you were releasing immediately threatened to drive him crazy. His rut was horrible this year, reaching the worst today. He took to fucking a pillow and was crying trying to ease the pain… You had no idea how much worse you had made it for him by walking inside. Had you been in heat this entire time and it took a transformation for him to notice your sweet smell? It was intoxicating, mind dumbing and exhilarating all at once. His thoughts became a flurry of all the things he wanted with you. Aegon wanted to ravage you, devour you whole and claim you as his mate. Did you even know you were in heat?

He stood up, with the sheet poorly covering his erection. His eyes were blurry with tears and his lips formed into a permanent pout. “I need you- I need your help, just please don’t run.” Your eyes drifted down to his bulge; it isn't wrong you were only human after all! “H-how can I help?” There are no words in any language to describe what you were feeling. You were shocked, scared, turned on, and in awe of the tail wagging behind him. Never in any lifetime did you expect the term “human golden retriever” to become a reality. “It hurts- so so bad.” He whined making slow moves towards you so as to not startle you.

This was odd, he was odd, you were having a fucking fever dream or something. You pointed a finger at his crotch, eyeing him up and down. He nodded his head vigorously and you swore his ears perked up. I can’t fix it without your help.” Was he drooling or was that the tears still falling from his eyes… “w-why?” His voice cracked, “Its- Its a wolf thing.” Ah, he was a werewolf not a dog. He took a step forward and you circled around him, back facing the bed. You weren’t scared, just overwhelmingly confused. Of course, you always wanted him, always thought of him begging but not like this…

Your breath was sucked out of you once more as he fell to his knees, hand gripping at your sides. He stared up at you with the worst case of puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “I’ve always wanted you- I’ve always needed you, but I-I was so scared. P-please! Let me prove it to you.” A bit manipulative, but what else could he do? His cock was throbbing, and you were the most beautiful prey he had ever laid eyes upon. “I… ok, I’ll help.”

His eyes turned primal, making you automatically realize there was an error in your decision. Aegon, acting purely on instinct, pounced on you. His weight pushing you fully onto the bed, squirming beneath him as his lips devoured yours. A guttural growl escaping his throat as he grinded himself against your clothed cunt.

Aegon's fingers dug into your thighs as he pulled them apart. His tongue lapped hungrily at your neck, making you shudder as goosebumps erupted across your skin. A moan escaped your lips as his hands moved to rip off your clothes. Of course, he couldn’t just remove them normally. With two quick tears they were gone along with your bra and panties leaving you completely naked under his gaze. Superhuman strength, that’ll take some getting used to.

The feel of his hot breath sent shivers through your body as he moved downwards. He was panting, inhaling the sweet scent of your slick. Aegon needed to taste it, to feel it cover his tongue. His fingers trailed over your cunt before pressing firmly into your slit, causing you to arch upwards. Oh god, were you this wet from him crying?

You felt the tip of his tongue press against your clit. At first it was just a taste, to test if you were as sweet as you smelled. It was better, so much better than anyone could imagine. His mouth pressed firmly against you, Aegon’s tongue mercilessly lapping at your pussy. The way he devouring you drove you insane, sending shocks shooting throughout your entire being.

He began to lap faster at your sensitive flesh, desperate to swallow you whole. He behaved like a man starved and this was his last steak. He didn’t care about anything else; all he cared for was satisfying his hunger. His claws pricked your ass cheeks as he knelt between your legs, forcing you open wider. His tongue dipped into your hole causing your legs to shiver.

"Ahh!" You cried out, buckling as waves of pleasure shot through your core. Your cunt began tightening around nothing as his tongue moved to do circles around your clit. The vibrations of his low growls sending a new pleasure throughout you.

He pulled back, his face glistening with your slick. Aegon licked his lips lazily, as he stared down at you. "Baby," he purred, baring his fangs you did not know existed. "I’m gonna claim you." His words made you blush, wait how was he gonna?

He quickly shoved his lips onto your own, sucking every word out of your mouth. His teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusted his hips forwards, grinding against your slick. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he prodded at your entrance.

Aegon let go of your face snaking his hands down to your waist… Without notice, he flipped you onto your stomach causing you to yelp. Before you knew it, he was straddling you, one knee on either side of your body. His erection rubbed against the crease between your ass cheeks as he held himself above you.

You looked up at him, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly. He stared at you for confirmation, even in wolf form consent mattered. You nodded, unable to speak. Aegon gave you a feral grin before shoving himself inside you.

"Oh fuck!" You moaned loudly as he pushed deeper, stretching you wide. This wasn't going to be easy. But then again, neither were any of the things Aegon did. He began thrusting harshly, giving you no time to adjust. Each deep push forced another scream to escape your lips until he dropped his full weight on you, pulling your face up by your hair.

Aegon’s head dipped into the crook of your neck, near your collarbone and he fucking bit you. From this point on, you were claimed, forever and always his omega. His movements became rougher as he neared his finish. It felt as if his cock was growing inside you.

Your hands gripped the sheets tightly, as you whimpered and moaned different curses. Your body acting without you as it tightened around him. As if your very essence wanted to give him what he desired most. Allowing him to fill you up and make you his.

"A-A-Aegon!" You screamed out as you came. Your muscles clenching around his shaft. He growled, a real growl this time as his cock began to form a knot, securing himself deep inside you. His arms wrapped unbearably tight around you, squeezing your breasts roughly while he slammed hard into you, burying his cock fully within your womb. Your cunt tightened around his knot as his seed spilled out inside of you.

You landed in unison, slowly he eased his grip on you so you could sink into the bed. “A-Aegon are you going to move?” You were absolutely clueless as to why you were still stuffed to the brim. His cock must have grown which goes against human biology but apparently so did his very existence.

He peppered kisses along your shoulder as he moved to pull you into a spooning position. “We’re gonna be stuck like this for a while.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon ii #aegon imagine #aegon fic #aegon x reader #aegon x you #aegon smut #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii smut #aegon ii x y/n #aegon x y/n #hotd fic #hotd au

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mokulule · 1 year

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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.

Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.

Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.

The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.

And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.

Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.

“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.

“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.

“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”

Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.

“Dick, they could be drugged.”

“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.

“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”

Bruce sighed.

“The thief.”

“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”

“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”

“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”

“I haven’t looked it up yet.”

Dick narrowed his eyes.

“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”

Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.

“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”

“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.

“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.

“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”

Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.

“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”

“I know.”

Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.

“He’ll warm back up.”

“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.

“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.

“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”

And the feeling was gone.

“Dick.”

“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.

Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.

“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”

With that he was off.

Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.

He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.

He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.

It was also out of power.

With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.

He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.

He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.

Oo o oO

Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.

Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.

A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.

He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.

Masterpost for subscription

Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.

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brighttears · 1 year

Text

It's Gonna Have To Be Enough

Joel miller x reader

No physical description, gender neutral, no use of y/n

Summary: Joel gets in his head watching you sleep until you wake and bring him out. just fluff

Warnings: brief mention of bugs and light gore, pet names (honey)

Word count: 1k

A/n: Writers blocks got me in its talons :( I’m just trying to throw shit together now to get Some kind of story. Pls pray for me

–

The body lying before him, curled up on a hard, dirt ground, makes Joel’s heart burn and sink in his chest.

Powerlessness. That will always be his number one enemy. Love, his second. Because there you lay, lax in sleep, so vulnerable. Joel looks down at his hands, every knuckled scarred, blood ever ingrained under his fingernails. He is no man for you. But yet here he stands, regret, sorrow, fury, guilt, fear, and love, seeping out of him to fall on you like rain. He’d do anything–he’s done anything, and he always will, to protect you, save you.

But he can’t.

You’re already ruined. You’re already doomed.

Joel can almost already see fungus sprouting from your skin, those damning veins shooting out from a bloody bite mark to poison the rest of you. If you turn into a monster, is it still you inside? He’s so afraid that he’ll love you even then, even if you turned into one of them.

Joel takes a deep breath and squeezes his eyes shut. Not yet. You’re still alive, he still has you. He wants to take you up in his arms to prove that to himself, but you’re fast asleep, so he’s alone, full of homeless longing. But god, it fills him.

Is my heart heavy, or is it empty?

He loves you, he loves you, if he knows nothing else, he knows this. But can he do it right? Can he give you what you deserve, or whatever salvageable sliver may be left of it?

Joel’s brain is filled with maggots. Most of the people he’s met are dead. The last thing he remembers of a lot of them are their corpses, or even worse, their dead and hungry eyes focused on him. The worst of all, what their heads looked like after a shotgun.

He can’t stop staring at you. Looking at you when you’re like this, so innocent, so relaxed, Joel can imagine another life with you, a domestic one, where you don’t have to worry about any of this.

But then you start to cry out, and then you’re screaming and thrashing, and he can’t even wake you then, Joel is forced to wait it out until you wake up on your own. He thinks that when he goes to hell, that's what it’ll be.

Powerlessness.

He knelt down, folding his legs and waiting, watching you unable to escape from any of it, even in your sleep.

And then you wake, and when you look into his eyes it’s fear first, always fear first, and then relief, and then you’re in his arms. He breathes again.

“Did I wake you up?” You murmur into his shoulder.

“No, I was awake.”

“Were you watching me sleep?”

He chuckles and admits, “Yes.”

“That's ok. I like to watch you sleep, too.” there’s still sleepiness in your voice.

“You fell asleep on the ground, honey,”

“I did?”

“Yeah. Come on, let me get you up into the truck.” Joel goes to pick you up but you raise with him to your feet. It stings; he wants to hold you so his body will shield you from everything, including the dirt, because it’s cold and it’s hard, not somewhere you should be.

You pop open the tailgate, eyes still squinting against consciousness, and climb in. Joel follows and you take a minute to settle in. A mess of dirty blankets barely cushion the hard metal, but it's better than nothing. You lay on your sides, facing each other. You reach your hand out to push Joel’s hair behind his ear, not because you need to, just an excuse to brush your hand over his cheek and through his graying locks.

He’s staring at you with those big, sad, brown puppy dog eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Hm?

You can read him too well now for him to get away with lying–trying to protect you from even his own thoughts, but you’ve fought your way through.

“What’s wrong?”

“Eveythin’s wrong.” he whispers, “This world… it’s rott’n. You don’t belong… in the rot.”

“Are you in the rot?”

“Yeah, I am.” to him, this is where you separate. He is the rot that you don’t belong in. But you tell him the opposite.

“Then I belong in the rot. And you can’t tell me otherwise. I love you. I won’t ever leave you. I’m with you.” You reach out again to brush his hair back, watching your hands over his skin and hair, then back down to those big, beautiful, sad eyes. You wish you could crawl inside of him and dig all the sadness out. “Why are you so sad?”

“Because… because I can’t save you.”

“Save me from what?”

“Everythin’. Anythin’.”

“What can you do?”

“I–I don’t know, what? What can I do?” What do you want me to do? What can I give you? Just tell me, and I’ll do it.

“You know this one.” you tap his nose with your finger. You’ve had this conversation before and you wait for him to wade through himself and remember what you’d taught him about it.

It takes him a minute but then he remembers, “Love you. I can love you.”

“Mhm.”

Joel moves himself closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek and touching his forehead to yours. This is what you do to ground yourselves. You use this technique frequently—for moments like these, or when you’re the one trying to take him out of his nightmares, or even in the stink of gunpowder, when you’re about to round a corner, make a run for it, or take a risky aim.

Here you are, here am I.

“That’s all you have to do Joel.”

Joel hums, wanting to keep it to himself, but you’ll pull it out of him anyway. “It's not enough.”

“I love you Joel. Is that not enough for you?”

“No, it is, it is enough,” he raises his whisper, “‘course it’s enough.”

“Mhmm?” you smile.

His voice goes back to a murmur, “Ok, ok. I get it.”

“You’re already enough, stupid.” you touch your fingertip to the tip of his nose again and then kiss it. He pecks your lips.

“Alright. Close yer eyes ‘n go to sleep now, honey.”

Joel pushes your hip and you roll over so he can spoon you.

“You better be going to sleep, too.”

“I’m not gonna be able to keep my eyes open like this. You make me sleepy.”

It takes him a while to finally fall asleep and he uses the time to ponder your words. Joel’s not sure if he’ll ever feel like enough, but he can at least trust that you believe it. He can’t rely on his own standards when he’s doing all of this for you. If it’s enough for you just for him to love you, then he’s good enough.

He’d found something beautiful in the ugliness of the infected world. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take it and never let go. After everything, there you are, and here he is.

#the last of us #joel miller #tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller tlou #joel miller fan fiction #the last of us hbo #joel the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst

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brokenjere · 9 months

Text

details (a seventeen going under story)(j.f)(ch.1)

details (a seventeen going under story)

a/n: hello everyone!! i hope you all enjoy this new story. It's a continuation of seventeen going under, so if you haven't read that yet I encourage you to do so! I'm trying to follow the story line of book/season 2 but obviously, it's going to be different. Let me know what you all think!!

Susannah died at the beginning of June. The call came late one night as I was fast asleep, but Jeremiah’s empty breathing woke me up. I immediately knew something was wrong and ran next door without putting any shoes on. The boys were sitting on the couch in the dark not speaking. They looked like statues, I thought at that moment. Little wax figures forever frozen in time when their mom was still alive, but they were not. They were alive.

They both turned to look at me when the front door swung shut. Jeremiah’s eyes were puffy and red. Neither of them looked like they had gotten any sleep for days, maybe. We all knew it was coming soon - her death. She was slowly getting worse and worse, it was only a matter of time. I kissed Jeremiah in the doorway as he left for the hospital to see her. Neither of us knew it would be the last time he saw her. If I had known, I’d have kissed him a little harder.

If I had known that everything would change that night, I would have hugged him a little bit harder. I would have locked him in the house and not let him leave. I would have strapped our ankles together so that he could never leave me, but he did. He did leave me. And now, I’m sitting on the back porch watching the rain poor down flooding the grass.

“Dinner is ready,” my mom calls from inside of the kitchen. She always likes to keep the back door open when it rains. “Come inside before you get a cold.”

“It’s too warm out for me to get a cold,” I tell her once I’m inside. She pushes a plate toward me on the counter with a sad smile. She’s been pitying me for weeks it feels like. Always giving me sad smiles and hugging me for longer than normal. Shouldn’t she be the one grieving? She lost her best friend. She watched her person die right in front of her eyes and she’s the one comforting me? I pick at the chicken with my fork but don’t eat it. “I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat something.” My dad comes in from the other room, kissing the top of my head once before rounding the island and kissing my mom on the cheek. She leans into him and my stomach turns.

“I ate lunch.” I push the plate away. “I’m just going to go to sleep.” I can feel both of them watching me as I walk away with their sad eyes and wallowing stares. Being upstairs doesn’t make me feel much better. He’s all over the place up here. His clothes are in my closet, his shoes under my bed, and the notebook he gave me on the desk. I flip it open to the last page. Big, white, and empty. I’ve been meaning to pack up all his stuff for weeks now, but I can’t bring myself to do it. One minute I was packing for Cousins and the next Susannah is dead and Jeremiah is no longer my Jeremiah.

My phone starts to ring in my hand. I know who it is before I even look at the screen so I answer it, but I don’t speak. “Y/N,” he says softly. “I can hear you breathing.” I lay back on my bed and try to stop breathing. I hold my breath until my lungs start to burn. “Did you eat today?”

“Don’t start doing that,” I whisper.

“Doing what?”

“Talking to my mom and checking up on me. She already talks to me like she’s walking on eggshells I don’t need you to do it now, too. You’re the one grieving.” I can picture Conrad now, rolling his eyes because all he ever does is care for other people he couldn’t imagine not doing it. Not even now. “I should be asking you if you’re eating.”

“I ate a burger about 30 minutes ago. I can feel it traveling through my digestive tract as we speak,” he says. I can hear the smile on his face.

“Good.” Conrad calls me every day at the same time for the last month. Sometimes we sit in silence and sometimes we don’t but he never hangs up first. It’s been exactly 32 days since I’ve seen Jeremiah. 32 days since I have heard his voice, although Conrad’s is similar. Similar but not the same. 32 days since I have felt his hands on me and exactly 30 days since his mother’s funeral and 28 days since Susannah died. My mom keeps telling me that time heals all wounds but how can I believe her when I feel like it just keeps getting worse and worse?

“When are you coming back to visit? They’re doing prospective student tours next week. Figured you could come then and tag along.” he suggests. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the house and I think he knows that. He’s been trying to get me to visit him at school for weeks now but I keep blowing him off. I shouldn’t be, I know that but the thought of leaving the perimeter of my house feels very similar to dying.

“I’ll think about it,” I tell him. “Look, I should probably-”

“Jeremiah asked about you.” We both say the same time. His words stop me in more ways then

one. I sit up and grip my phone harder. My voice stops, my breathing stops, and I’m pretty sure my heart stops.

“What did he say?” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “What did he want?”

“He asked me how you were doing,” he tells me. “He asked me if you ask about him.”

“Did you tell him that I don’t?” I don’t recognize my own voice. I keep talking about him to a minimum because when I do, it feels like my entire body is falling apart. Conrad sighs on the other side of the phone and he doesn’t reply. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him that you were.” he hesitates. “That you were you. You were okay.” I stop myself from picturing how he was doing in that house all alone. Just him and Adam. I have to stop myself because if I’m afraid of what will happen if I don’t. “You were going to tell me that you’re hanging up, right? Before I said that.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t hang up yet, okay?” His voice cracks so I don’t hang up. I don’t hang up for what feels like hours but we sit together all night long until eventually I fall asleep listening to him breathing.

When Susannah got really sick, the worse I’ve ever seen her, being around the house was hard. Conrad hardly seemed to be around. It was his first year at Brown, so we all let it slide when he didn’t come home on weekends or make it to her doctor’s appointments. Jeremiah or my mom always took her. Laurel came down a lot, too but Jeremiah always got the worst of it it seemed like. One day, I came over to find him with his head in a pile of bills.

“That’s not your responsibility,” I told him when he told me that he was sorting through the bills and trying to pay them off.

“It’s just one less thing she has to worry about, you know? Conrad isn’t going to do it.” His voice was tense and unlike the Jeremiah that I loved. I put my hand on his shoulder and kissed the top of his head.

“You have a dad,” I reminded him. He half smiled at me and took my hand off his shoulder. He held it tightly and kissed my knuckles. “Lets go get some food,” I suggested. “We can bring your mom home something.”

“Normal food makes her nauseous.” There was a lot of things Susannah couldn’t do anymore. She barely could get out of bed. It was like seeing a stranger toward the end. She still smelled the same, her smile was still the same. She said all the things that Susannah said but she wasn’t Susannah. She wasn’t dancing around the house with the radio on in her apron. She wasn’t gardening in the backyard with dirt on her cheek. She was living off of saltine crackers and chicken noodle soup.

“Then we’ll bring her back a cup of water. Come on.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the dinning room table. I felt guilty sometimes. Taking Jeremiah away from his mom like that but he didn’t deserve to sit here and grieve her before she was already gone while Conrad was off living his life. Sometimes I found him smiling. A real smile, the kind you only get when you’re really, really happy. His eyes would light up and he’d be him again. But then, everything hits him all at once and he’s sad again.

He almost didn’t even go to prom with me. We had everything planned. Susannah even picked out the corsage but at the last minute he showed up at my door crying. “How can I go out and have fun while my mom is dying?” He said through his tears. I didn’t have an answer to that so I just let him cry but the next night, he showed up in his suit and tie with the corsage in his hand and it was perfect. It felt like nothing had changed.

But of course, everything was changing.

#tsitp #conrad fisher #conrad fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher #jeremiah fisher fan fic #conrad fisher imagine #tsitp imagine #the summer i turned pretty #belly conklin #jenny han

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kabie-whump · 21 days

Text

WoW Birthday Whump Day 2

(finally)

Prompt: Starvation / Thirst / "Please..."

Additional content: vampire whumpee, blood, passing out, Carewhumpee, character death mentions (undead), CPR mention, self harm (sort of)

~~~

Caretaker knocks on Whumpee’s door. They take a short step back while they wait, picking anxiously at their nails. It’s been a week since anyone heard from Whumpee. Caretaker wasn’t too worried at first - Whumpee’s always been a bit of an introvert. But then Whumpee’s mom called Caretaker in tears saying Whumpee had missed their weekly video chat and that is just not normal.

Caretaker waits for a few minutes before knocking again. Then another few minutes. They try calling Whumpee again. Nothing.

Caretaker pockets their phone and raises their hand to pound on the door. Their phone buzzes. It’s a text from Whumpee.

Caretaker tries to call them again and it goes straight to voicemail. Growling, they respond in text instead.

They watch the typing bubble appear, and then disappear, and then appear again.

<. . . fine.>

There’s soft footsteps. Caretaker takes a step back, prepared for Whumpee to open the door. Then, a crash from inside.

“Whumpee?!”

No answer.

Caretaker rams their shoulder into the door. It only takes two tries for it to slam open, and Caretaker makes a mental note to get stronger screws for the frame because that’s just not safe.

They find Whumpee lying on the ground in the hallway, water and broken glass scattered around them from a vase they’d knocked over on their descent.

Caretaker rushes to their side with a gasp, not caring about the glass. “Whumpee, oh my god!” They take their friend’s face into their shaking hands, pressing two fingers to their throat to check their pulse.

There’s nothing. No pulse.

“No no no no no,” Caretaker sobs. They roll Whumpee onto their back, then get out their phone to call 911 before they start CPR.

A cold hand snatches Caretaker’s wrist, knocking their phone to the ground. Caretaker yelps.

“Don’t.” It’s fragile but it’s definitely Whumpee’s voice. Caretaker’s gaze slowly moves up Whumpee’s body to find their face. Oh god, why are they so pale? They look like a corpse. But their eyes are open and they’re staring straight at Caretaker.

The hand gripping Caretaker’s wrist loosens and then thumps on the floor.

“Holy shit,” Caretaker gasps. “What- You don’t have a pulse!”

“I know,” Whumpee rasps. “Just. Please… Don’t call anyone.”

“You need an ambulance!”

“No. It won’t…” Whumpee trails off, panting weakly. “Won’t help.”

Caretaker scoops them up gently. Their skin is so cold. Holy shit they feel dead.

Whumpee’s head lolls to the side as Caretaker lays them down on the couch. Their throat is caked in dried blood. There’s a clear bite wound in the middle of it.

“Your neck…” Caretaker's eyes go wide. They’ve read enough shitty romance novels to recognize this scenario. But it’s not possible. People don’t become vampires in real life. And this isn’t nearly as sexy. “Oh my god. Whumpee what the fuck?!”

“I… please…” Whumpee sounds absolutely desperate.

“What do you need?” Caretaker is starting to have a suspicion, but they really really want to be wrong.

“I don’t know… Please, help me.”

“Oh my god. Shit. Okay.” Caretaker wanders back over to the mess Whumpee had made when they fell and retrieves a shard of glass. They kneel next to the couch and stare down at the glass, feeling deranged for what they’re about to do. As carefully as they can with their shaking hands, Caretaker draws the edge of the glass along their wrist.

Blood blooms from the shallow cut and Whumpee’s nostrils flare. They tilt their head towards Caretaker. “Please…”

Caretaker feels dizzy already, but they bring the cut to Whumpee’s lips.

Whumpee’s hands latch onto Caretaker’s arm with a strength they didn’t look capable of. Their mouth opens against the cut as Whumpee drinks eagerly.

“Holy fuck,” Caretaker whimpers, grabbing the couch cushion with their unoccupied hand. “This is happening.”

Sharp teeth nudge at the edge of the cut, then sink deeper, tearing it open wider. Caretaker groans, fighting back the urge to pull their wrist away. It hurts, but Whumpee is getting visibly better by the second. Caretaker watches with awe as color returns to Whumpee’s skin and the wound on their throat starts to knit itself shut.

“This is nothing like Twilight,” Caretaker whispers.

~~~

#wow birthday whump #wow birthday whump day 2 #starvation #thirst #please...#vampire whump #vampire whumpee #cw blood #whump #whump community #whump tropes #whump writing #whumpblr #whump scenario #whump ideas #whumpee

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acozysoulwrites · 1 year

Text

Settling down | D.D

Description: It's been months since you and Daryl moved to the cottage miles from Alexandria. Things have settled down, and Daryl has started to think of your future together.

Warnings: none!

The leaves fall from the trees softly, slowly. It is their only purpose. To grow, to sway in the wind, and to fall where they will find their forever resting place in the dirt. They weren't so different, leaves and people.

Daryl throws his bow and bag onto his back, grimacing as his sweaty shirt presses into him. He knows he wore one layer too many.

The seasons were changing. Leaves were falling, the air grew chillier daily, and his nose was stuffy. Clear signs of winter is on it's way. Daryl didn’t mind winter. It slowed the dead down enough to raise their survival rate above 50%, and plus, he thought the snow was pretty.

Rounding the tall oak tree, he knows he’s almost home. Almost safe from everything wrong. He knows he’s almost back to his girl.

Daryl stomps the half-dried mud off his boots, only realizing too late that he’s done this on her clean front porch. Grumbling a bit, he grabs the old broom by the door and sweeps it away before she can get after him.

“Dare? That you?” her voice calls from the kitchen.

“Mm, it’s jus’ me” he replies, opening the creaky door he steps inside, and the smell of her cooking greets him before her.

She looks up, a softness replacing her focused expression. She crosses the room and curls around, grabbing his heavy belongings from his back. “You find anything out there?” She asks as she sets them down beside the couch. She takes care of him better than he does.

“Nah, jus' a load of walkers. This weather always makes em’ frisky before the freeze,” He says solemnly as he makes his way to the kitchen.

The smile lines by her eyes fall, and she nods. “That’s okay” She places her hand on his shoulder, “Don’t worry about it. Rick said we are always welcome to their pantry, especially during the winter months,” She reassures.

The corner of his mouth tugs up, remembering Rick's exact words. He was glad to have someone like Rick.

She and Daryl finish supper and head to the living room. Every night they sit together. There isn’t a TV anymore, or the radio. So they sit in silence. She reads stories to him some nights, and he tells her stories other nights. They sit in each others presence like it’s their real home, like even if these walls fell down around them, they’d be content.

“Hey, you awake?” Daryl mumbles, glancing down at her where she lays on his chest.

She stirs and for a moment he regrets saying anything, regrets waking her -

“Yeah, jus’ thinkin’,” she whispers.

Oh.

Daryl nods. “What about?”

“Us” she says simply.

“What’s that mean?”

She sits up, exhaling a tired breath through her nose. There is a mark on her cheek from his shirt and his heart staggers as she looks into his eyes.

“Don’t sound so scared” She teases, “Just us. Our future, that’s all”.

“Oh” Daryl let’s out the breath he’d been holding. “Me too”.

“Yeah?”

He nods again. “Yeah…” Daryl runs his hand up her back. “Maybe taking things to the next level” He finishes, eyes meeting hers again.

Her eyes widen. “You mean?”

He nods, mumbling a quiet mhm before kissing her forehead. “I want that for us” He says.

Her hand slips into his hair and she kisses him suddenly. “Yes, Yes Dare i want that for us too” she whispers happily.

Daryl smiles. “Good, we’ll go to Alexandria, plan it with Rick” He says.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x reader #comfort #daryl dixon fluff #drabble #twd #headcanon #fluff

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mrsaltieri-real · 9 months

Note

could you please do Mickey as a bf NSFW headcanons? Or Roman even.

(Apologies if you've already this request)

Mickey Altieri as a Boyfriend (NSFW, 18+)

Warning/s: (AFAB!FEM!Girlfriend) NSFW, (18+ ONLY) smut, p in v, oral, (m and f receiving) knife play, blood kink, period sex, roleplaying, spanking, Yeah yeah you get it. It’s an NSFW headcanon it’s all pure filth!

The titles kinda misleading, it’s mainly just how Mickey is when he’s fucking tbh. I think about these a lot because I’m absolutely fucking obsessed with this man. Like, it’s actually insane. Also, you all seemed to like the one I did for Ethan so I had to do my best guy. Feel free to ask for some other slasher boys/girls and I’ll happily do them!

Anyway, here we go!

First and foremost, dude is a DOM

You’ll never catch him dead as a sub, he just doesn’t read as one at all

Likes when you worship him, whether that be his body, his cock or literally anything about him

He’s good with casual hookups, but when he’s in a relationship he opens up a lot more sexually

A lot more

If anything, he prefers sex when he’s dating someone he genuinely cares about

It’s better, more satisfying

1000% percent an ass man, with a soft spot for tits. I don’t know why but I have a feeling

Will absolutely (if you’re comfortable with it) film the two of you fucking

Likes to watch the tape for his lil private sessions if ya know what I mean

Will deny you to holy hell

“Please let me cum.”

“Fuck no.”

Yah, he loves when you beg

Beg him to let you cum, beg him to go harder, faster, WHATEVER

Beg. Him.

Will edge you for hours if he can tbh

Loves when you blow him

LOVES. IT.

Will gag you with his cock, he doesn’t give a fuck

Likes when your gagging around him, tears rolling down your face, mascara staining your cheeks while he’s forcing you to look at him

Oh, but he’ll go to town on you too

He’ll cradle your clit, nip at it, tongue fuck you, WHATEVER

He’ll do it till your cumming on his tongue and just keep on going till HE is done

Don’t get me wrong, he can be very sweet

He enjoys lazy morning sex as much as the next guy, especially when he’s dating you

Can actually be very romantic in the bedroom if the opportunity calls for it

Slow, passionate sex is somewhat of an occasional soft spot for him

I’m talking him on top, fucking you deep and slow with your legs around his waist and watching the pleasure on your face

Honestly, makes his heart stutter

But his favourite position is doggy

He likes the view, what can I say

Enjoys to spank you while he’s fucking you from behind and watching his dick sliding in and out of your pussy

Likes cowgirl too, but he’ll still have to be in control he likes watching your tits bounce when he’s fucking up into you

On occasion, he’ll allow you to take some control of fucking because he loooooves to feel you bouncing on his cock

Likes making a mess

He will not pull out and prefers not to wear a condom

He likes to stuff you full of his cum and watch it ooze out of your well fucked hole, watch it quiver, finger you to stuff it even deeper inside of you…

Ahem I’m getting carried away, sorry

It’s enough to get him hard again for another round

So make sure you’re on some form of birth control

Will make you cum twice minimum before he does

What a guy

Despite how kinky he is, his sex drive is medium

He’s a busy guy, but will always make time for you

His love languages are quality time and physical touch

And he’s very touchy

Even out in public

He wants to fuck you everywhere, in a classroom, at a party, at the movies (iykyk)

Loves to overstimulate you until you’re a twitching, writhing, trembling fucking mess

When he’s very comfortable, he’ll incorporate some of his more secret kinks

Knife play, roleplaying etc

He has a blood kink

Big ol’ blood kink

He’s a confident guy, but possessive. If you let him, he’ll carve his name into your flesh and want you to do the same to him

In his eyes, you belong to him and he wants everyone to know that

He absolutely loves period sex. He just DOES

Likes to fuck while watching horror movies for his own… self gratification let’s say

But as I said earlier, he can be very fucking sweet when he wants to be

As kinky as he is, if he’s in a relationship and loves you, he’s very playful, gently biting your neck when you’re fucking or making you laugh by cracking a joke

All around, he’s an ass during sex but in a hot way that’ll make you begging for more

And if he loves you, you’re never getting away from him

Not that you’d want to

#ugh i love him #my favourite lil guy #hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it #i need him so fucking bad #anyway...#scream #mickey altieri #scream 2 #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri x you #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri headcanons

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dailydragon08 · 1 year

Text

Nightmare I

See my full masterlist and read on AO3 here!

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader Summary: Luke gives you all the touch and comfort you need during a rough night. Warnings: reader has a nightmare (but it isn't described), Star Wars universe curse words. A/N: "Remnants" is a series of one shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. Comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

***

You watched rain slide down the Redeemer’s front windshield, the crashing thunder in the distance a comfort you didn’t know you needed. You and Luke had located another Force artifact on the jungle planet of Kenari and landed your ship near the cave it was supposedly found in. Since it was getting dark and the current storm had no intention of letting up, you and Luke had opted to get some sleep and start out in the morning instead.

You sighed as you dug through your bag where it lay on the main hold’s large, circular table. “Kriff.”

“What’s wrong?” Luke turned from where he was tinkering with R2 in the corner.

“I forgot to pack enough nightshirts,” you grumbled. You lifted a shirt you’d worn previously on this trip to your nose, barely biting back your gag at the smell. “Well, definitely not that one.”

“Here.” Luke quickly disappeared into his bedroom—which had been converted from one of the imperial shuttle’s many cargo holds, just like yours—before emerging with a large dark shirt in his hands. He almost looked nervous as he held it out to you. “I always keep a stash of clothes onboard, just in case, so I have extra.”

You hesitantly reached out to take the soft black fabric in your hand. “Are you sure? I don’t want to take it from you if you need it.”

He smiled softly and nodded. “I’m sure.”

You held his eyes for a moment before taking the shirt in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Borrow it as long as you need to.” He turned his focus back to the astromech in front of him. “I’m almost done with R2’s repairs and then I’ll be heading to bed, too. But let me know if I’m too loud.”

“I will.” You paused in your bedroom doorway, clutching the soft fabric in your hand. “Goodnight, Luke.”

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You let the door close behind you with a whoosh, staring at the shirt in your hand before taking a deep breath and shedding your clothes. You didn’t usually sleep in pants, but as you let Luke’s shirt fall over your shoulders, found it sank down mid-calf on you anyway. The v-neck that only exposed his collarbones went much lower on you, your hands disappearing inside the sleeves. You held them up to your nose and breathed in his scent before sinking into your sheets and letting sleep overtake you.

***

You woke in a panic, screaming loud enough to wake the dead and clutching your sheets to your chest. You panted as you looked around frantically, feeling relief surge through you at the familiar walls of the Redeemer.

You jumped again as your door flew open and Luke rushed in, wearing loose sweatpants and a tank top that he was still hastily pulling down over his torso. He took in your panicked stare, his blue eyes racking over your body for injuries.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, feeling the tears building behind your eyes. “I had a nightmare. I…I’m so sorry—”

His eyes turned soft. “It’s all right. I get them, too.” He took a few steps closer, then hesitated. “Can I sit with you for a minute? Or do you want some space?”

“Stay,” you said before you even realized you’d spoken. “I mean…if you want.”

“Of course I will.” He made his way over to you and gently sat on the edge of your bed. He stared at you unsure for a moment before taking your hand in his, gently rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. His eyes were so full of genuine concern, it made your heart flutter. The dream, however, still had its claws sunk deep into you and you couldn’t stop your face from crumbling as the tears started to flow.

His face fell and he looked like he was about to cry himself as he murmured your name.

You futilely wiped a few tears from your cheek as more poured steadily down your face. “I’m sorry—”

“Hey, please don’t apologize. I want to be here for you.” He squeezed your hand in his before continuing softly. “Can I hold you?”

You looked up in surprise, your sleep-addled brain taking a moment to process. You could feel his hurt through the Force as more tears fell and he looked at you so tenderly and carefully, his fingers still gently caressing yours, it made your heart thump twice as hard in your chest.

“It’s all right if you don’t want me to—”

“No, I—I do,” you answered, your voice cracking. “I…Please.”

Luke let go of your hand and didn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly against his chest. You buried your face in the warm skin of his neck and clung to him. The movement made his shirt slip down your shoulder and your heart skipped a beat at the feeling of his warm fingers gently stroking your skin there. He pressed his cheek to yours and you closed your eyes, breathing in his closeness and warmth like an antidote. You could feel your pulse settle as his fingers traced gentle shapes against your bare shoulder, his gloved hand gently massaging your back.

He moved to press his cheek against your forehead and gently pulled the collar of the shirt up to cover your shoulder again. His flesh hand moved to gently stroke your hair away from your face and he pressed a feather-light kiss to your forehead. You felt his sudden embarrassment through the Force and he cleared his throat quietly. “Sorry, that was just…sort of instinctual.”

“It’s okay,” you breathed into his skin. “It feels nice.”

He hesitated a moment, his fingers still gently playing with the strands of your hair before kissing your forehead again. You pulled back to look him in the eye and felt your heart swell at how adorable his bedhead was. His hair looked so silky and it took all your strength to resist running your fingers through it—although with how much he was still playing with your hair, you’re not sure he would’ve minded.

“Thank you,” you breathed, realizing as your lips moved how close they were to his.

He nodded, his eyes drinking in your form. His face suddenly bloomed an adorable shade of red as his shirt collar slipped down your shoulder again. His eyes tracked the movement before snapping up to your face as another tear escaped you, gently wiping it away with his thumb. He gently tucked your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your jawline.

You stared openly, glancing at his skin that peeked out from underneath the white tank top. It honestly didn’t cover much and really put his toned shoulders and arms on display. Your sleep-drunk brain couldn’t help but think his skin was such a nice golden color.

His eyes went wide and you frowned for a moment before yours did, too. “Oh, Maker, was that out loud?”

He chuckled, looking down bashfully. “Um, yes, but…thank you.”

“Sorry, I’m…really tired.”

He met your eyes again, his gaze soft and holding something you couldn’t identify. He licked his lips, his thumb lingering over your collarbone momentarily as he inhaled deeply. His hand traced a gentle line up to the column of your neck and it took everything in you not to brush your lips against his. His voice was so soft, you almost didn’t hear it. “That looks so good on you….” He blinked and cleared his throat, quickly pulling the collar back up over your skin and scooting so there was more distance between you, although his arm was still securely wrapped around your waist. “Sorry, apparently I am, too.”

You held his gaze briefly before you both looked away, laughing nervously. “Um…t-thank you for checking on me and for the hug.”

He nodded, his lips curving slightly and highlighting his cheekbones. “Anytime.” He stared for a moment before letting out a shaky breath and dropping his arm from your side. You suddenly felt empty at the loss. “How are you feeling now?”

“Better.”

“Do you think you could go back to sleep now?”

You nodded. “If I can ever return the favor though…please let me know.”

He squeezed your hand. “I will. Thank you.” He hesitated, holding your gaze before standing and walking towards the door, pausing near the frame. “You do…look good…in that shirt. Keep it for as long as you need.”

You could feel the butterflies fill your stomach. “I will…Goodnight, Luke.”

“Night, Y/N.” He gazed at you for a moment before tearing himself away, the door closing behind him with a hiss.

You settled back down into the mattress, holding onto the feeling of his arms, hands, and skin as you fell into the land of dreams once more.

#star wars #luke skywalker #luke skywalker x reader #star wars x reader #luke skywalker imagine #star wars imagine #luke skywalker fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #luke skywalker fluff #luke skywalker comfort #tw: nightmares #star wars remnants #luke skywalker x fem!reader #luke skywalker x jedi!reader #my writing

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pinkrose787 · 27 days

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Amnesia! Branch AU

Plot: After an accident in the woods, Branch has lost years worth of his memory. Now, Poppy and his brothers must help a grey and angry regain his colors and his memories.

Link: AO3

The TrollsTopia Hospital isn’t somewhere that Poppy is unfamiliar with. She’s been there countless times both on royal and personal business, but every time she’s been here it’s been routine, or it’s been minor. Never has it been so serious.

She paces the waiting room. Just beyond the doors Branch is being treated. For what? Poppy isn’t sure. All she knows is that she found Branch lying unconscious. There wasn’t any blood, but Poppy could tell that it was bad.

John Dory rushes through the waiting room doors. Floyd and Clay are close behind him. He looks around the waiting room. When he spots Poppy, he races over to her. “Any news about Branch?” he asks.

Poppy looks at the three brothers. Tears are in her eyes. “No… They haven’t told me anything yet.” Her voice warbles as she talks. “He’s been in there for two hours.”

Floyd gives Poppy a hug. She practically collapses in his arms. “Hey, it’s Branch. He’s going to be alright.” His words bring some comfort to her.

“Yeah, there’s nothing that can keep him down,” Clay says. He pats her on the back.

The doors to the ICU open. Dr. Moonbloom stands in front of them. Her face has a serious expression. But that’s just how it always looks. It’s impossible to get a read on whether she has good or bad news.

Poppy goes up to her. “How’s Branch?” she asks.

“Branch is awake and should be fine physically.” Dr. Moonbloom says.

“That’s great! Can I see him?” Poppy lights up. She lets out the breath that she had been keeping inside of her.

“You may, but I need to tell you…” Poppy rushes into the ICU before Dr. Moonbloom finishes her sentence.

She looks around until she sees Branch. It’s a startling sight for sure. He’s covered in bandages. There are wires all around him. What’s most unsettling is that his color is gone. He’s back to being gray just like how he was before they befriended the Bergens.

But that doesn’t really matter. That’s an issue for later. He’s alive.

Poppy almost flies over to Branch’s bedside. She pulls Branch into a big hug. Taking in the joy of him being alive for her to hug. “Ow….” he says.

“Oh sorry!” Poppy says. She lets go. “I’m just so happy to see that you’re alright. When I found in the forest, I really thought that you were dead.” The tears are coming back. “But you’re going to be fine. That’s what Dr. Moonbloom said.”

“You were the one who found me?” Branch asks. He looks confused. “What were you doing in the forest?”

“I was looking for you,” Poppy says. She takes his hand. Branch looks at their hands being intertwined. His face is still contorted in confusion, but with more blushing. “When Floyd told me that you didn’t come back to the bunker last night, I got worried.”

Branch looks even more confused. His brow is furrowed. “Floyd told you?”

“Yeah! He’s actually out in the waiting room with Clay and JD. They’re going to be so relieved to see that you’re fine.”

“But…” Branch eyes dart around the room as he looks for some sort of explanation. “I haven’t seen or even heard from them in almost twenty years.”

Now, it’s Poppy’s turn to be confused. “What are you talking about? They’ve been back for over a year now. Floyd and Clay have been living with you in your bunker since we stopped Velvet and Veneer.”

“Who’s Velvet and Veneer?” Branch asks.

With each question Poppy’s heart starts to race. Something seems to be wrong with Branch’s memory. But it’s probably just from the trauma of what happened last night. He should be fine, right? “They were the stars from Mount Rageous who kidnapped Floyd. Do you really not remember this?” Poppy asks. She squeezes Branch’s hand.

“I don’t. And I have so many more questions.” Branch pauses. His eyes flicker towards their intertwined hands and back towards Poppy. “But I don’t get why you care so much? I know that you’ve always been insistent on being my friend, but this is way more than normal enthusiasm.”

Her heart sank with that statement. Does he really not remember that they’re together? Does he not even consider her his friend? Before Poppy can answer Branch’s question, she’s interrupted. “Queen Poppy. I need to talk to for a moment.” Dr. Moonbloom says. She places her hand on Poppy’s shoulder.

“Queen?” Branch asks.

Poppy ignores that question. It’s just another hint at the conclusion that she has already drawn. One that she is praying won’t be true. She gets up. Before she walks away, she looks at Branch. “I’ll be right back!” She forces a smile, but the tears welling up in her eyes give away her true feelings.

Dr. Moonbloom leads her away from Branch’s bed. She looks at Poppy. “I was going to tell you this before you rushed off, but it appears that Branch has retrograde amnesia, likely induced from the injuries he sustained.”

That was something she already knew, but hearing about it made it so much more real. Poppy looks at the ground. She takes a deep breath. The tears in her eyes threaten to break free, but she holds them back. “Do we know how bad it is?”

Dr. Moonbloom looks down at the clipboard. “Well… when he was asked about today’s date, he gave us a date about four years ago. So, if I had to guess I would say that he’s lost about four years of memories.”

“Four years…” Poppy repeats. So much has happened in the last four years. Branch has changed so much in the last four years. Him going back to how he used to be… how they used to be… it’s going to be unbearable. “Is there any chance that he’s ever going to get his memory back?” Her voice quivers as she talks.

“It’s hard to say. His memory could return in a few days, or it may never return.”

Poppy feels like she’s going faint. Her heart is beating faster than it ever has. She needs to tell his brothers what happened. “Thank you, Dr. Moonbloom.”

It feels like the ground is holding on to her as she walks towards those white double doors. She’s never liked giving bad news. And never had she had to give bad news that so deeply hurt her.

Pushing open the doors, she sees the brothers sitting in chairs. Viva has joined them. She’s comforting Clay. The second Poppy steps into the room, Viva races over and gives her a big hug. “I heard what happened! How are you doing?”

The tears start flowing. She can’t hold them back anymore. She can barely breathe with how hard she’s sobbing. Holding on to her sister is the one thing keeping her from collapsing onto the floor. “Viva… it’s so bad.” She manages to say between sobs. Viva helps Poppy into a chair.

John Dory, Clay, and Floyd race over to where Poppy sits. They all look so terrified. “I thought the doctor said that Branch is fine. What happened in there?” John Dory asks.

Poppy looks up at everyone who surrounds her. Their faces are so terrified. How are they going to take this news? They just got Branch back, but now they’ve lost him. They need to know. Even if every word that Poppy speaks feels like knives in her tongue, she has to tell them. “Branch has amnesia. He doesn’t remember the last four years.”

The brothers gasp. They look at each other “So, he doesn’t remember us coming back?” Floyd asks.

“No, he doesn’t.” Poppy wipes some of the tears from her eyes.

“I don’t get what the big deal is? He’s lost some memories. We just have to catch him up on the last four years and he’ll be back to normal.” John Dory says.

Poppy looks up at him. Tears are still streaming down her face. “You don’t get it. It’s not going to be that easy.”

“Sure, it will,” John Dory says.

She gets up out of her chair. Her voice starts to rise. “You weren’t there! You didn’t see how miserable and angry he used to be! You weren’t the one who kept trying to reach out to him! You weren’t the one he kept pushing away!”

By now they’ve attracted a lot of attention. John Dory looks down at the ground. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Shouting has cooled off Poppy’s temper a bit. “No, I’m sorry.” She takes an unsteady breath. “I just don’t think I can handle Branch being like he used to be.”

Viva pulls Poppy into a big hug. “Hey, it’s going to be okay sis. You’re not doing this alone. I’m going to be by your side.”

Poppy sniffles. “Okay.”

“Yeah, and we’re going to be here too. For both you and Branch.” Floyd gives Poppy a thumbs us.

“There’s nothing that gonna keep up from being there!”

“We’re going to get through this together. No matter what.” John Dory says.

Poppy wipes away the tears in her eyes. She smiles lightly. The last time she tried to get through to a depressed gray Branch, she was on her own. All of her friends had deemed him a lost cause. They all thought she was insane for even reaching out to him.

But looking at her sister and Branch’s brothers, she feels like she can really do this. They are all going to be carrying the burden of helping Branch regain his colors. “We can do this. No matter what it takes we’ll help him.” She says.

#trolls #branch #trolls branch #broppy #poppy #trolls poppy #clay #john dory #floyd

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