#you don't need that kind of energy while sitting down in a chair

[repulsiveliquidation]

Touch Me Like Nobody Else Does.

Ona Batlle x Reader, SMUT 18+ don't read or i’ll tell your mom. first shot at smut so i don't know if it's any good lol

If you haven’t figured out where the title is from I’d recommend listening to the song while reading.

9AM Friday somewhere in Barcelona

The smell of breakfast poured into the room as you woke up. It smelled good; eggs and peppers were definitely on the menu today. However, the bed was cold and did not contain a certain defender you had dreamed about last night. You smiled though, knowing she had the weekend off this week and you had some catching up to do. Being in a relationship with a world-class footballer wasn’t easy, her schedules were so packed you wondered how you even got to see her at all, let alone have some quality time. Finally, they had a weekend with no game plus the Friday off to let loose a little.

You climbed out of bed and searched for your shirt, shuffling into the bathroom to freshen up. You heard the stove turn off and the clattering of utensils, a soft “joder!” following after before you walked into the living room. There stood your girlfriend of a year and a half, clad only in your huge shirt and her hair up in a messy bun. She had never looked more beautiful; a huge smile on her face when she saw you walk in.

“Hola, hermosa,” she said softly, hands wrapping around your neck as your arms wrapped around her small waist. “Hi gorgeous, breakfast smells amazing.” You lips locks onto hers and she gasps, hands tangled in your hair and body pressed to yours tightly. Your hands trail lower, giving her ass a little squeeze and tap before walking over to the table to eat. She smacks your arm and curses at you in Spanish, grinning with burning cheeks.

“What’s with breakfast? You usually like to sleep in on off days.” You ask her, sipping on your second cup of coffee. She shrugs, eyes looking everywhere else but at you. “Amor?” you say, a deeper blush creeping up on her face. “I-I just thought that maybe we could… Dios mío…stay in bed the rest of the day but we needed the energy so I made breakfast.” She answered the last bit quickly, face turning even redder than before. You laugh at her insinuation, clearly the two of you had the same idea when the long weekend was announced. You push your chair back and hold your arms out for her to sit in your lap. She sheepishly does, resting her head on your chest. “You never have to do anything special just to ask for me to love on you okay? While I appreciate the perfect breakfast today, you can always tell me if you’re in the mood, I’ll drop everything for you my love.” She nods softly, face tucked in your neck as she slowly begins to leave soft kisses. Your hands have a mind of their own, caressing her firm thighs lightly to rile her up. She already starts to whine and squirm, a loud chuckle leaving your lips as you carry her back into your room.

You lay her on the bed, eyes already darkening. You stand over her with a kind smile on your face. “I need you to tell me what you expect today baby, anything you want hm? Today is about you.” You tell her, sitting beside her on your huge bed. “I don’t mind, anything you’re in the mood for.” Her eyes were already big and glossed over. You peck her lips, cupping her cheeks softly. “Okay hermosa. We can make that happen.” You crawl up the bed over her, kissing her lightly. She laid splayed out on the bed, wanting to be a pillow princess today. You could only indulge her; she deserved it for working so hard the past few weeks. Kisses spread lower, hands pulling her shirt off and smirking when there were no undergarments hiding her perfect body. She bit her lip, wanting your reaction aloud. “You’re so beautiful, it’s distracting.” It was true, her body was so intricate and reactive, you didn’t know where to touch; where to kiss; where to love. You kissed down her toned stomach, hands pinning hers to the bed. Her back arched into your kisses; body covered in goosebumps as it reacted to your touches. Everywhere you touched lit her on fire, body wanting so deeply it hurt.

“Fuck, Ona.” You growled, grasping her waist and taking her breast in your mouth to suck on deeply. She was close to tears and you hadn’t even touched her where she needed you most. “P-Please, Y/N/N…I-I need you.” She whined so beautifully it made your knees buckle. You gave in, right hand cupping her heat and rubbing her soaked folds slowly. “Fuck!” she cried out, body like an electric fence; high voltage and waiting to release her charge. Your mouth didn’t waver, sucking and nibbling every inch of skin that would let you. She was wet and warm, fingers gliding through her swollen folds too easily.

“I-Inside, inside please amor.” She chanted, legs wide open and inviting. Again, you gave into her pleas; you were aching too but focused on her, wanting to give her what she wanted. You pushed her further up the bed and got between her legs. Her core was so warm and desperate you swore you could feel the heat radiating off her. She was a beautiful mess; hair stuck to her face, body flushed and skin covered in your hickeys. She was going to be teased to no end in the locker room on Monday but she couldn’t care less; she wanted everyone to know that she was well taken care of.

You suck on her clit softly, pressing her legs back and open. You could read Ona too easily; she was an open book around you. Her hands shoot to hold your head, jaw slack as she soaked up the attention. Her legs tremble and you suck on her harder, tongue flicking over her swollen bud in wild patterns. She couldn’t concentrate as your mouth worked wonders between her legs. You pulled back slightly, kissing her inner thighs. “Hold your legs open for me, darling. There’s a good girl.” She swore she almost came when you praised her. It was well known even outside the bedroom that Ona liked praise, you were sure to shower her with them liberally.

“I’m gonna try one, okay?” you told her, middle finger circling her hole gently. She liked slow and intimate sex, very rarely asking you to be rougher. She also liked being told what you were doing to her; made her heart beat faster when you explained in dirty detail the things you wished you could do to her. She was so wet and aroused that your finger slipped in easily. You rested your head on her thigh, arm wrapped around her hip to rub her clit as you fingered her gently. Her chest huffed and puffed, hyper focused on your touches as she tumbled quickly towards orgasm. Your tongue joined the party, mouth watering at her sweet taste. Tongue flicking her clit, a second finger entering her and a soft hum from you catapulted her closer to her release. Ona was shaking like a leaf, hands tugging your hair as she desperately needed something to ground her.

“Coming, I’m coming!” she yelled. Her hole clenched about five more times before she writhed and whined, orgasm crashing down on her so hard she almost couldn’t breathe. You helped her ride it out, fingers stroking her folds gently as you cooed at her. “That’s it darling, ride it out.” You tell her, kissing her lips gently. She blushed hard, hand cupping your face as you made out.

You climbed out of bed and reached for the nightstand. She smiled knowingly at you, waiting to see what you pulled out of the naughty drawer. You picked her favorite strap, the perfect size to feel full but still get all those delicious places inside her. “How do you want it, baby?” you ask her, pulling the harness on. “Wanna see you,” she said simply, legs opening wide as she settled into the bed. You got between her legs again, hand licking your fingers before rubbing her clit again. She was sensitive but she enjoyed the soft ache within her. Grabbing the lube, you spread a little over the fake appendage as she watched you with blown out pupils. “Ready?” you scoot closer, rubbing her thighs softly. You smile as she nods, hands pulling her legs back wider for you. You lean in, the tip of the toy nudging itself into her. She takes it well, your fingers and her orgasm having opened her up nicely. “You’re doing so well, cariño.” You whisper into her ear, holding her as you slide in more. “Almost there, hm? Such a good girl you are.” She whimpers, holding onto you tighter as you slowly begin to thrust into her. You fuck her slow and deep, exactly how she likes, her hands holding onto your thighs. You assault her neck with love bites, her hands now unsure of what to hold onto as your hips speed up a little just as a soft “faster…” left her pretty lips.

Satisfied with your art on her neck you lean back and thrust in deeper, pulling her closer and draping her legs over your shoulders. The angle gets the toy deeper into her and hits her sweet spot. She gasps hard, eyes finding yours as you pound the toy into that spot over and over. Her legs tremble and you hold onto her, wanting to push her to the edge faster. “Please, I-I’m gonna…gonna cum Y/N please, please let me cum. I’ve been good!” “Yes you have been, mi amor. The best girl for me. Come on, babe. Come for me, darling. You’re gonna look so pretty falling apart on my cock, sí?” you egg her on, the tremble in her legs intensifying. Your fingers find her clit and you rub her nub hard, as her eyes shut tight and her body lets go.

“Fuck, Y/N!” she yells as she comes, body pushing the strap out of her from the force of her orgasm. She writhes as you keep rubbing her folds, fingers shoving themselves into her as she rides her orgasm out. You pull away as she calms down, legs twitching and lungs gasping for air. You quickly take the harness off and pull her into your arms, cradling her softly as she calmed down. She leans into you, body spent and boneless.

She lets you move her around, leaving her for just a second to grab a washcloth to wipe her down. You help her finish a bottle of water and wrap her up in your robe before carrying her into the bathroom to start a bath for her. She makes you climb in with her, laying back against you as you hold her in the warm water.

“Thank you, amor.” She says quietly, turning her head to look back at you. You see the love in her eyes, your arms wrapping around her soapy middle as your lips find hers. She kisses back softly, leaning into the palm of your hand that rests on her cheek.

“I love you, Ona.”

“Yo también te quiero, carinõ.”

#woso soccer #woso imagine #ona batlle #barcelona femeni #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #fc barca femeni #espwnt #smut #woso smut #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #Spotify

[luveline]

Hello! Can I request cornflower blue with Aaron, where he's just really into chubby!reader and she's so sweet to him and acts kind of similar to bombshell!reader, but is surprised and ecstatic when she finally notices that he's been flirting back?

tysm♡

You walk into Hotch's office feeling pretty and ridiculous. You know you look cute today, hair done pristine, skin dewy, your outfit one that accentuates the slopes of you (and this is all without mentioning the frankly gorgeous pair of shoes you're wearing). 

"Hello," you say. Something about Hotch makes you feel prettier. You couldn't put your finger on it, maybe it's the way he doesn't seem bemused at your flirting ('cos, oh, there's the flirty fat girl, how funny! like being sweet on people is weird when you do it). "How are you today, handsome?" 

"I'm good," he says, with a real, authentic, sticker of approval smile. "How are you?" 

"Better now I'm seeing you," you say, neatening the edges of your papers on his desk before offering them to a big hand. 

"I could say the same thing," he murmurs, looking down at the papers you've passed him with that boss look about him. He has to check your paperwork before it's submitted, of course, and this batch is a little late, so that's probably why he's happy to see you.

"Charmer. Do you need my help with anything while I'm here? I'm free." 

"You, free?" he says, still looking at the papers, one held above the pile, grabbing for a pen blindly. "In what world?" 

"This one, if you can believe it! Hotch, you understand me like nobody else does." You put on a saccharine, movie star tone, silky and smooth as you sit in the slippery leather chair in front of his desk. Elbows on the desk, you place your chin in your hand and watch him correct things you've written with a dreamy expression that isn't even really fake.

You quite like turning Hotch's innocuous comments into flirtation, if only to see his smile, but today the smile seems different. Almost like he knows something you don't know. You press your pinky finger over your lips and try to work it out. 

… Is Hotch flirting back? There's nothing to do but test it. 

"How do you make paperwork look good?" you ask. And it's important to note that you mean what you say, even if your compliments are said in a teasing, sunny manner. "Is there anything you can't do?" 

"Careful," he says, turning a page. Well, maybe he isn't flirting– "You might get something you aren't looking for." 

Your heart is a bat out of hell, leaping from your chest. "I'm always looking for something as long as you're the one giving it, Hotch... I've been thinking I'd quite like a new moniker, if you're up to it." 

He places the paperwork down into a tidy tray and leans back just a touch in his chair (what the fuck). "What would you have me call you?" he asks quietly. 

"Any Sweetheart will do." Is this real? Is he really giving it back to you? "Puppy love, angel, valentine. You could take your pick."

"Why don't you choose one for me?" 

You stand up from your chair and shake your head at him, fizzy energy with nowhere to go. "Handsome, you're in a mood. I'm going to do a lap, okay? Before I combust. Think you can get this," —you gesture to his chest in a big circle— "under wraps, or shall I start picking out colours for our engagement party invitations?" you ask. 

Hotch laughs and opens one of his desk drawers. You consider the joking over, and while you're disappointed, you're not surprised. That is, until he says, "I like eggshell white over cream, but I'm sure you'll make the right decision, angel." 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #luveline's 40k party

[zumek0]

draft 04; dostoevsky, f.

↪︎ fluff, fedya having a soft spot for his lover, reader is sick, gn reader, written with a fem reader in mind tho, references to irl dostoevsky’s life, surprise angst at the end, mentions of death.

↝ summary: when you become ill and are unable to fall asleep, he reads to you. the action feeling both familiar and distant to him.

You sneeze. Four times, actually.

You getting sick was highly inconvenient for Fyodor, as it prevented you from fulfilling your duties as a member of the Rats in the House of the Dead. He had to disregard plans and work his way around being down not only a member, but also the best assassin in the organization. Not to mention how it not only affected his organization, but also the Decay of Angels.

As annoyed as he was with the whole situation, seeing you in such a miserable state didn't bring him any kind of joy. On the contrary, he felt his heart hurt when he saw your teary eyes and heard your hoarse voice. Not that he would ever let you know that.

He stands up from his office set up and heads to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He can't concentrate, so he decides that he might as well check up on you. That is, of course, because he needs you to get better so you can get back to work immediately, and not because he heard you cough a little too much and a little too hard.

He places the glass on the bedside table. He hears you thank him weakly. "Are you okay?" he asks uninterestedly but scans your face for any kind of discomfort. "Tired..." you sneeze after you answer.

"Then sleep." He hands you a tissue, which you barely muster enough energy to take.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

Fyodor sighs and then leaves the room. Your eyes start tearing up again, this time because you want him to stay with you. The whole image is comical: a killer as cold and ruthless as you, crying miserably because their boyfriend wouldn't spend time with them? Even if someone were to see it with their own eyes, it would be hard to believe.

Fyodor returns to the room with a book in hand. The cover torn and creased from the passage of time. It is Fyodor's favorite. Even if he rarely touched it, you knew he held a great fondness for that book in particular.

He lays down in the bed and looks at you expectantly. While your moves are slow, he waits patiently for you to make yourself comfortable against his chest. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July a young man came out of the garret in which he lodged in S. Place and walked away slowly..."

His soft voice and regular heartbeat lulled you asleep.

A young dark haired man lies kneeling at the foot of his bed. His head is hung low and his fingers are intertwined. After he finishes his prayer with an "Amen", he gets up and heads for his mother's room.

He enters quietly and finds his father already there, sitting on a chair by his mother's side. Her head turns upon hearing the door opening and a warm yet tired smile makes home on her face.

"Fedyen'ka." Her voice, although strained and tired, sounds happy to see him. "Come here, my angel. Your father and I have something for you."

He is given a book.

On a late night while talking to his mother, he had entrusted her with the knowledge of his passion for literature. Talking about some of the books he had managed to get his hands on, weather by acquaintances of his lending him some, or by the old man in the shoe shop who let him stay a couple of hours after his work ended just so he could read some of the books that he kept in the backroom of his store. That night his mother promised him that for his sixteenth birthday, she would get him a book of his own.

She had never broken a promise, yet there were still two months until his birthday. Fyodor understood at that moment that his mother was probably going to die before that.

A simple "Thank you." is all he could muster.

That night he was unable to sleep. His father went out to tend to some business, so the house would've been completely silent if it weren't for the coughs of his mother.

He gets out of bed, grabbing the book from the wooden dresser next to the door to his room. When he enters his mother's room, the coughing stops.

"Oh, Fedechka, did I wake you up?"

"No, mother." He takes a glass of water from a table nearby and puts it up to her lips. She takes a few sips. "Are you unable to sleep?" She nods.

He leaves the glass back on the table and grabs his book. His mother's gaze follows him as he moves to sit on the chair where her husband usually sat beside her. He opens the book on the first page.

"On an exceptionally hot evening early in July..."

She falls asleep with a smile on her face as she listens to her son's voice.

Two days later, Maria Fedorovna Dostoevsky would pass away.

Fun fact: i spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to understand which Russian pet names and nicknames are most common, just to end up not using any because in my head they’re already speaking Russian.

If you recognize what he's reading, ur hot. Ahhh I'm so in love with fedya, but i’m not sure if i like how this turned out...

— han.

#땡땡! han’s works #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor headcanons #fyodor fluff #fyodor imagines #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x you #bsd imagines #bsd fyodor x reader #Fyodor dostoevsky angst #fyodor angst #bsd angst #fyodor x y/n

[thelampisaflashlight]

To Take Care

[Dew being soft. That's it, that's the whole fic.] Below the cut.

Dew settles into one of the plush, leather armchairs in the ghouls' common room, the one that sags a little when anyone sits in it, the springs so pressed down they awkwardly cradle his form instead of pressing back.

The bump of his head against the backrest elicits a groan, from the chair or his own mouth, no one could tell, even Dew himself, and he's certain he felt the air pass through his lips.

He's the kind of tired that leaves his whole body feeling like a heavy, immovable lump, and, in spite of that, he's carried himself quite well up until this point.

Mountain calls it a "boots off" situation; When you sit down, suddenly you don't have the energy to get back up.

Any and all motivation is gone.

Boots off.

Left by the door.

Not going back on.

...Barring an emergency of course.

With a long, deep sigh, Dew feels himself sink deeper into the thinning material, eyes half shut as he uses a fragment of his willpower to turn his arm over to examine a stray thread between his finger tips.

He could sleep like this.

He really could.

But he fights it, biting back a yawn as he surveys the room.

The new kids are asleep; Aeon on the couch, his lithe body stretched selfishly across the entire thing, while Aurora is tucked into a ball on the loveseat, pressed so tightly against the upholstery Dew knows it'll leave a mark on her face.

Despite the protests of his knees, Dew stands, stretching slightly, before popping the top off of a nearby ottoman and pulling out a couple of neatly folded knit blankets from inside.

He takes a moment to knead the material, remembering when Cumulus had asked him to come along with her to pick out the yarn she was going to use to make it.

"You'll probably use it the most, so you should decide." she'd said, and she wasn't wrong.

Back then, he had only recently transitioned from water to fire, and his body had decided that anything short of an oven wasn't warm enough for him anymore; Essentially, with everything being comparatively cooler than him, he got chilly quite easy.

How and why that was -and still is- the case, even Dew isn't sure, but having a blanket or two ready and available was always a good thing, and the fact that it was handmade made it even better.

He sniffs the fabric and hums softly.

Even after years of use and several trips through the wash, it still smells a bit like Cumulus' perfume.

The other blanket is a heavy thing, bought on tour years ago from some chain store in America when they'd needed to scavenge some extra supplies for the bus.

It's an unfortunate bedpan pink, it's big and can be folded to add a little extra weight across your body.

He weighs the two blankets in his arms before setting about covering the two sleeping ghouls.

Aurora snuggles easily into the fluffy white knit of the blanket Cumulus made, her lips turning upwards in her sleep, but doesn't wake.

Aeon, however, blinks up at Dew, purple eyes peaking through his lashes as the watches the older ghoul layer the blanket over him.

He doesn't say anything at first, letting Dew tuck him in, but mumbles his thanks when the other is done.

"Go back to sleep." is all Dew says in return, returning to his chair.

Now.

Now he can sleep.

#lamp writes #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #something something someone get him a blanket too

[wriothesleybear]

Can you please write a wrio reader fic where reader is just absolutely exhausted from a long day of work? like right when they walk in the door eyes are heavy, zombie, practically ready to pass out from exhaustion, sore back, just wants to cry to be honest. even more since they hate their job.

Damn, I feel this with my job. And if I had wrio to come home to, I'd die a happy woman. I hope Wrio doesnt seem oc in this. This is just what I think he'd be like as a comforting boyfriend cuz he is the best boyfriend. I also hope this isn't cringy. Ngl, I sorta got a bit teary eyed writing this cuz it made me think about how stressed I get from my own job and college classes and I would love to have Wrio comfort me when I come home ;-;

~warnings: comfort, a bit of angst, mentions of crying, Wrio calls reader 'dear, love', gn!reader.

~

The door of Wriothesley's office creaks open and slams shut. Slow, heavy footsteps tread up the stairs. Turning his head towards the stairs, he sees you. He notices the exhausted look on your face, too tired to even bother greeting him. He can tell from that that you had a bad day. You trudge over to the couch in his office, drop your items on the floor and fall on the cushions below, face first. He stifles a chuckle from watching your adorable actions.

He quietly scoots his chair back and walks over to the couch to check up on you. Taking a seat on the table in front of the couch, he places a hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair to comfort you. "Bad day?" You don't even have the energy to answer. All you can do is slightly nod your head. He continues to stroke your hair, knowing that's one of your favorite ways to feel better. "Want to talk about it?"

You take a second to respond, debating whether or not you really want to talk about it. It'll just be the same old rant about how you hate your job, how customers suck, how your back hurts, and all those negative things in your life. You feel guilty for always complaining your boyfriend's ear off, thinking he probably gets tired of it. Not wanting to burden him anymore, you shake your head no. "You sure? I'm always happy to listen to your worries and problems." He says as his hand moves down to rub your back in comfort.

His kind nature makes your heart skip a beat, so grateful to have someone like him in your life. Although, it makes you happy, you just want to cry. The stress from work and your worries of being a bad s/o to your wonderful boyfriend is what causes you to just break down and cry. You quietly cry but he can feel your body slighty shake. "What's wrong my love?" You don't reply. All you do is shake your head and cry.

"Come here." He gently grabs a hold of you, urging you to get up and sit on his lap so he can hold you. He effortlessly picks you up and has you straddle his lap. He holds your head to his chest, rubbing your back as he tries to shush you. "Shh, it's okay. Let it out if you need to." His shirt gets soaked from your tears, but he doesn't care. He just wants you to feel better and if letting you cry into his shirt helps you, then he'd let you ruin all of his shirts.

After a while, you begin to calm down, the sound of your sniffles and cries decreasing. "Did that help?" You nod your head while still keeping your face in his chest. "Sorry Wrio." He cups your face and moves it away from his chest so he can see your face. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm always here for you." He says as he looks deeply into your eyes, thumb stroking your cheek. You give him a small smile which he returns with his own gentle smile.

"So. Is there anyone I need to 'talk' to?" You recognize his implication and chuckle a bit. "No, just a stressful day. Just being here with you as you hold me is good enough for me." You lean your forehead against his and give him a eskimo kiss. "I'm glad. Now, how about I make you some tea?"

"In a bit. I just want you to keep holding me and stay like this for a while longer. Please."

"Of course my love." He gives you a short, sweet kiss on your lips. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, getting comfortable on his lap. His arms wrap around you, holding you tight and leaves a kiss on your head. "Um Wrio." He hums in response, acknowledging you. "Can you..stroke my hair again, please?" You ask shyly, blush covering your cheeks. He chuckles. "Of course my dear."

Keeping one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, he brings the other one up to your hair, stroking and combing his fingers through the soft strands. "Thank you Wrio." You say into his neck, leaving a little kiss on his skin. "I love you."

"Anything for you. I love you too. Rest now. I'll make you tea when you wake up." You smile, grateful to have a wonderful, loving boyfriend. Your eyes close as you get sleepy from his comforting touches. You soon fall asleep.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons

[morallyinept]

Summary: Joel Miller comes back into your life unexpectedly after a gap of thirty years, and stirs up all kinds of memories and longing. Now, as you're stationed on an outpost for five days alone with the man you stupidly let go of all those years ago, you have a chance to confront him about your past life together and all the things you wished you’d said and done.

But Joel’s different now, and you know you need to tread carefully. Joel Miller is not the same man you once knew in another life.

A slow burn romance set in the post apocalyptic world, approx. twenty or so years after the initial Cordyceps outbreak.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Chapter word count: 5.6k

Series Masterlist

☝🏻See Series Masterlist for full smut warnings & triggers in this story. Chapters that contain smut or triggers will be highlighted in the chapter notes below. 👇🏻

Chapter notes: You and Joel get closer to one another after a close call. Brief mentions/descriptions of smut. Mentions of violence.

☝🏻 I WILL NO LONGER BE ADDING NEW TAGS due to some of them not working as they should, despite me tagging, so please ensure you're following me and turn on notifs so you don't miss an update on this story.

Enjoy! 🖤

Previous Chapter

It’s different when you wake. He’s different.

It’s hard for your brain to translate, but you can feel that the tension in him has shifted a little; and not just from massaging him - although you can still feel the warmth of his skin blazing on your fingertips, even now.

But it's like a small part of that tension has been squeezed out through a juicer and all that is left is the pulp to discard.

You can feel it in yourself too. Something scabby has fallen off of you somewhere. Fresh, glossy skin has grown underneath. Healed.

You lay in the cot peering at him as Joel sits in the wicker chair watching the sun rise. You see its light moving slowly across his face, changing the shadows around his eyes, making them softer where they were once harsh. 

His fist is to his chin; thumb swiping back and forth against his bottom lip as he stares vacantly out at the valley. Just a slow - somewhat teasing in its agony - back and forth across the chapped skin as you watch, mesmerised for a little while.

It washes everything else away for a few moments. 

There’s an elevated, yet unspoken, understanding existing between you now; a connection that’s been reconnected somewhere with copper wires. You can feel it. Your mutual pain tethering you like stitches in the skin.

If you had known this, back in the day, that you would both have to suffer through so much to get back here, back to one another… Well, you might’ve reconsidered that perilous path, as weak as you are. He might’ve too.

Or you both might’ve hurtled down it at warp speed, colliding in a vibrant kaleidoscope of kinetic energy.

Everything happens for a reason, it doesn’t matter. It resonates in you as you feel some acquired peace between the slow, weighted absorption into the layers of your epidermis, that you had to go through all of that to get here.

To get to this little moment right now where you can just observe him and bask in the viability of it all.

It brightens you somewhere; a small luminescent glow within all the murk, to know that Joel endured and survived. And so did you. And here you both are, brought together again after an insurmountable feat of improbability, implausibility. Against all the fucking odds.

Whether its fate, destiny, whatever. It doesn’t matter. 

You're just both here; right where you're supposed to be.

And that has to mean something. Surely he has to feel that sucker punch to the jaw too? Feel the bloodied teeth plink from his mouth onto the gravel. Surely he can’t brush it off with a shrug of those broad shoulders and a gruff utterance about fate being a simple ruse and nothing more?

You think back to his words, and even the ones he doesn’t say. They still batter around your head, trying to find a way in through your orifices.

Ya needed me, so many times, n’ I wasn’t there.

And you did. You never stopped needing him. You still need him now, still want him. You need him to tell you that you made it back to him as he fills you full of that sweet relief and elation.

You need him as you both try to navigate cresting over the horizon of the billowing pain that haunts the cobwebbed crypts of your souls. You feel it tiresomely, twisting in your skin, uprooting your skeleton from the endowment of your worn and fibrous muscles.

You can still hear them, the screams. Still feel the blood slicking through your fingers, but it seems lessened somehow. The constant din in your ears is now muting, turning down.

And you know it’s because of him, because of Joel.

That incendiary presence of him fanning the fires again to burn it all away until there’s nothing left. You can feel it licking on your skin, prickling, spreading. Engulfing you. You can smell your hair burning, feel your skin boiling and blistering and you can no longer breathe as you become flaky ash piles at his boots.

Stifling, you sit up pulling the blanket off, and Joel turns to you. He drops his fist and tosses you a small smile that sinks into your chest cavity warming you still.

It’s sincere; it blooms into his cheeks revealing the dimple he never outgrew. It’s the same smile he always had for you. A smile of contentment, of satiation. He looks so different when he smiles, young again. That no worry has ever touched his face and left a bruise of tainted sadness. It’s his beautifully familiar face that has haunted you for so long. 

You can see it in him too; that slow erosion, layer by heavily guarded layer. Peeling him back like silky onion skins to reveal the naked core that makes tears sting down your face. You know that you being here, back in his life, is a welcome relief.

How could it not be when he smiles at you like this?  

You return it through your sleepy eyes. You glance at the clocks and they all read just past five in the morning, or thereabouts. 

You stand and so does he. You step forward, and so does he.

You dance that unspoken waltz as Joel passes you to take up root in the cot, ready to drift off in your lingering warmth, and you sit in the chair, your turn to watch. 

But as you pass him, your fingertips brush and you can swear you can hear the static crackles of electricity. 

You definitely feel them as they zap up your fingers and into your arm.

Hours later and Joel stirs from the cot. 

He pushes the heels of his large, calloused palms into his eyes as he wipes the sleep from them and his head feels unusually clear. 

He realises, as he wakes, that it’s the first time in a long time that his dreams have been quiet, silent. Like the centre of a hurricane; no noise, no bullshit.

There was nothing; just a peaceful calm that he sank into for a few blissful hours, and he marvels at how this must have been what it was like to sleep before the outbreak happened.

He’d just simply forgotten that it could be like this. 

But he’s sceptical. He knows this so-called calm will be fleeting, it always is. But he’s going to take the reprieve whilst it’s offered to him. 

He hears you at the stove as he blinks back info focus, he rises as you put a chipped plate inside his hands and smile warmly at him in that way you used to. Like you were always so happy to see him again.

He joins you at the wicker chairs and you both eat with some quiet contentment swimming around your ankles.  

Joel smirks as he slips a piece of meat into his mouth with his finger and thumb. Chews quietly as he watches you pull yours apart into strips and suck them into your mouth idly as you look out the window. Old habits die hard, he thinks. 

There’s so much about you that is different, yet still the same. Nuances, mannerisms; the way you speak. It’s all you in there, he’s sure of it.

But there’s another you that he’s not fully acquainted with yet. A stronger you, a weaker you. A ying-yang of yourself where there was once only arrogance and self-assuredness. A dreamer and a risk taker. A lover and a fighter.

He watches your lips; their fullness as you lick them and leave a wet sheen that he longs to taste again. He wonders if you taste different now.

Somewhere, in the back of his head, Joel remembers those lips wrapping so amiably around his cock. A renegade thought drops in front of his eyes and he’s forced to spectate.

It’s you, waking him up to see you under the covers as he lifts them up to be met with your face between his legs.

Your tongue is running up the length of him and your eyes, God your fuckin' eyes are staring at him wickedly. Gleaming as you take him fully into your hot, wet mouth.

He gasps and throws his head back and he feels it all over his body; that carnage within him that your mouth causes. That weak, brainless flesh he becomes sinking into the mattress as you pull him apart...

Joel clears his throat. Distracting himself as he feels the stirring in his jeans. He reaches for the walkie-talkie after glancing at the clocks and switches it on. 

You continue to eat and gaze out the window at yet another sun filled sky.

You flinch when the walkie-talkie suddenly crackles. Some static buzzes through and Joel twists the frequency dial at the top gently to tune it in.

The buzzing alters between high and low rumbles, and you listen carefully trying to make out anything as you put down your plate.

Joel had said no news was good news. But there is someone talking now; their voice wiry and buried so far beneath all the static it’s hard to make them out.

He raises the walkie-talkie to his left ear and then resorts to pacing as he listens carefully. 

... Branched off… A while ago… Heading north… Casualties…

“What are they saying?” You ask, feeling your body stiffen.

You’re pretty sure you hear the word casualties, but you can’t be sure. Your mind automatically conjures up scenarios that you try to stomp on.

You remind yourself to breathe. They might just be simply checking in. 

“Fuck,” Joel taps the walkie-talkie down heavily in his palm.

“Joel, what are they saying?”

“I can’t fuckin’ hear ‘em whilst ya yappin, can I?” He bites back hissing, trying to decipher the words. His eyes looking at you, but also not as he listens again. 

... Outpost three…

“That's us,” you say. Fuck!

“Quiet!” Joel paces again, opening up the door. He steps outside trying to get a better signal and drown you out. 

You sit back in the chair sighing, squeezing your fingers in and out of fists. You can still hear the crackles and fuzzed voices coming in and out as Joel stands just behind the door, his broad back to you, hand on his hip. 

Something's wrong. You can feel it. Feel the coldness of it creep up your spine and into your shoulders.

“Shit!” He marches back in and reaches for one of the tins on the shelf. He throws one open and rummages around for another battery for the walkie-talkie. 

You shake your head wearily.

“Something’s happened.” You say, feeling the panic rise up on your skin. Your throat runs tight and dry. 

“We don’t know that. We don’t fuckin’ know anything right now.” He gruffs. “C’mon on ya son of a bitch!” He seethes as he twists off the back of the walkie-talkie.

It’s rattling him too; you can see it as he tries to steady the subtle shake in his fingers. He throws you a look, one that's intended to be soft, reasurring. You're certain of it. But it's hard outlines are etched with concern.

Your heartbeat has settled into your ears, blood pumping. A sickly feeling bubbles in your stomach acids; the meat on the verge of making a ghastly return.

You stand, pacing now, with your hands wringing at themselves. You can’t help but let the worry creep in. In fact, it starts to flood in.

You glance out the window as Joel snaps the back of the walkie-talkie back on. 

“Joel.” You murmur, the dread filling you, stopping you in your tracks. 

Your eyes widen, so does your mouth. You can see them. Oh God!

There’s three of them; four, maybe five. Now six. 

“Joel!” You gasp frantically as he turns towards the door again. “JOEL!”

He stops; the alarm in your voice tugging his eyes towards the window. Shadows of infected bodies are gathering at the bottom of the hill, more of them appearing from behind the treelines. You can only watch horrified as they increase in number. 

Joel dumps the walkie-talkie and it clatters across the table clumsily. He takes the rifle off the stand and thrusts it in your hands. You start to fill it with bullets as he reaches under the cot and pulls out a hidden shotgun taped up under the slats.

He’s beside you again; his bicep bumping into yours and plucking thick cartridges into his fingers as you both glance up and down at the window like nodding dogs on a dashboard. 

There’s more. Seven, eight, nine-

“You think they broke off from the horde? They were trying to warn us?” A definite panic lodges in the back of your throat, but you swallow it down.

Endure and survive. Come on. You’ve got this. 

Joel grunts a response at you, but you don’t catch it.

You empty the remaining bullets into your pockets and clumsily drop some as they clang to the floor.

It’s alright. You’ve got time. Focus.

“Looks like they’re wandering, they're too far to know we're up here, right? We might get lucky and they’ll pass by...” But you know that’s not what will happen.

They’re a plague that keeps coming and coming. You know that if you don’t deal with this now, you might not be so lucky to get another shot.

It’s the hideous mantra of this world now; kill or be killed.  

“S’possible. Don’t matter.” Joel says, jostled but he keeps his cool. At least from what you can see anyway.

Ten, eleven, twelve-

“We can take them.” You assure him. Although, you’re certain it’s said for yourself.

“Ain’t got no choice. Can’t risk ‘em wanderin' towards the commune.” He puffs.

He looks at you and nods once. He knows that, between the two of you, you can pick them off quickly as you return that solid reassurance back to him. 

More creep up the hill. You hear the horses bray loudly in the stable sensing the death they carry with them - animals always know - and this pulls their attention.

They start running and more appear from out of the trees quickly. 

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-

“Shit!” You gasp, cocking the rifle.

“There’s a ladder on the rear, on the right. Get on the roof. Flank me, okay?” Joel instructs you, pulling you away from the window.

You don’t have time to discuss it, argue or agree. You can hear them now. The hissing and screeching that comes from their rabid mouths. Hungry.

“GO!” Joel snaps as you both bundle out the door.

You hear his shots immediately as he fires off, rounding the shack and drawing them towards him, giving you time to get into position.

He needs you to get into position. Needs you to cover him. He needs you.

You’re scrambling for the ladder; hoisting yourself up it as fast as you can go, fire burning in your lungs. 

You throw yourself down on the roof; your chest thudding against it; breasts crushed and knocking the wind out of you, as you raise the rifle steady on your elbows and fire off rounds quicker than your brain can process your motor functions.

Bodies drop, stunned in their quick deaths. Backs of their heads explode as the bullets ricochet through brainstems that don’t function above the basic instinct to feed and spread their poison.

You hit your targets, some of them are moving too fast to be hit in the head on your first shot. Wounding shoulders or legs which slow them down instead.

Breathe. Focus.

Joel appears in your peripherals; he takes a couple of steps forward as the numbers lessen that are coming at him. His shotgun is high in strong, taught arms; he aims with precision and feels the gun shunt back into his shoulder blade each time he fires.

He reaches into his pocket as he reloads; you take up the slack whilst he does. In the throes of the screaming, the ringing in your ears, you notice how calm Joel is, how he moves with exactitude.

Aim, fire, reload. Aim, fire, reload. 

He glances up at you with a steely gaze and a nod, and you shoot the infected body running right for him as he pops out the spent cartridge shells.

It falls with several yards between them; screaming and viscera everywhere, and Joel doesn’t seem fazed, barely flinches.

His face remains vehemently stoic, drawn into that deep hypnotism of abject concentration as he wields the scythe of death again.

You’ve always been tough despite your reluctance at times. Always taken care of yourself. Headstrong, Kelper would say. Arrogant, Joel would say.

But now it’s different; he’s joined in.

Now you take care of one another and it’s not up for negotiation. You settle into it, clearing the way for him. You set them up, he knocks them down. He's got your back and you've got his, like planets in the perfect orbit of one another. He moves, you move. He runs, you run.

He shoots and reloads, you shoot and cover. Teamwork makes the dream work.

Joel steps over the body as he picks the last of them off, the shots echoing into the sky like thunder cracking; the last of the infected are gunned down until the air around you both falls eerily still. 

You push yourself up on your legs that feel like lead weights, breathing steadily despite your heart hammering.

You clock Joel standing still now. His gun still aimed, his body twisting at the waist slowly. He’s listening as he scans.

He’s listening like you are, intently. Listening for the distant moans or shrieks, listening for the beats of more running beasts drawn to the echoes of the shots that crashed around the valley. 

You scan the horizon, the bottom of the hill. The trees to the right. You check them all off carefully. You peer through the periscope and recheck all the routes again to be sure.

It feels like you both stand there for an age. You see movement to your right and aim the rifle, your finger ready on the trigger, but it’s just the brambles swaying in the breeze. You breathe out slowly and relax.

The valley is silent once more. 

Only when you're both sure that there are no more coming at you, do you retreat down the ladder and round to the front of the shack. 

“Ya good?” Joel asks, squinting in the sun as he approaches, and you scream for him as he’s yanked backward; an arm on the body of the mutated corpse beside him reaching up to clasp his calf, and pulling him off balance. 

He rolls down the hill; the infected with him, as you run forward holding the rifle up.

You can’t get a solid aim. Joel’s body is rolling around through the periscope too quickly, and if you shoot, there’s a good chance it’ll be him that receives the bullet. 

“Fuck!” You yell. You tear down the hill after them. 

Joel struggles, grunting as the jaws of the infected body snap at him, too close to his face.

His legs smash against the ground, his back pounding against it relentlessly and knocking the air out of him as he tumbles. His arms ache from the frantic struggle as they come to a stop.

The body scrambles at him wildly, shrieking and drooling with hunger and blood shot eyes. Sickly yellowing fungus grows out the side of its face like lichens, and its breath reeks as Joel breathes the fetid opacity of it in.

He has no weapon, nothing he can defend himself with. He roars out as he pushes upwards with all of his might; his legs kicking out from under him to try and knock the rabid parasite off of him that's coming closer to his face.

Somewhere, through the commotion, he hears his name - he hears you breaking through that heavy cloud of white noise. Then you’re there, aiming and shooting at the head as he holds it out for you by the chin; his fingertips inches from its snapping mouth. 

The blast echoes all around Joel's head and the body of the infected rolls off of him lifelessly.

The ringing floods his good ear, and it takes a while of you yelling his name through the void for him to come back to and hear you through it. 

“... Are you bit?... Joel?! JOEL!” You stare down at him, the rifle still aimed at him, a slight shudder on the end of it.

“No, no…” He pants, relieved. He stares at his shaky fingers then up to you with wild eyes.

“M’okay,” he wheezes, bewildered. “M’okay.”

“Jesus,” you lower the gun.

You reach forward, attempting to pull him up, but instead Joel yanks you towards him.

You topple onto his chest and he kisses you ferociously.

It happens within seconds. A snap. It’s clumsy, it’s frantic.

Your teeth clash and his tongue chokes you. His hands are grappling at either side of your head, your back, your waist. You can’t hear anything except more thunder rolling in your rib cage as your heart thrashes about inside it.

The oxygen is sucked out of your lungs by Joel swallowing it in as you both tear at one another ferally.

Your mind is a whir; a jumble of thoughts trying to untangle themselves. Your body is shaking, unable to catch up with your mind, or with him.

Your own hands shred through his sweat matted hair, fist through his shirt collar. You straddle him as he crushes you against him further; gasping into your throat as his giant hands grip and squeeze your ass into him. 

An emptiness steam rolls through you, no place for coherent thought or wonder to harbour and grow. Instead, you're pulled under, drowning.

Unable to breathe as you let yourself sink into the crashing waves of him. Choking as you gasp, pulling at him desperately. There's no air here, your lungs contract, your throat clenches. You gasp and croak as you sink furhter into the depths, lightheaded.

This is what his kiss feels like. It feels like you might die. 

You pull back, wheezing, when you feel how hard he is against you. How that bulge in his grazed denim feels so fucking good pushed against your seam as you grind on it.

Joel’s hands cup your face; you’re both panting, both wanting. Both trying to stay in some sort of control. Both shaking as the adreanline courses through you.

"Joel," you whine, so full of need as your fingers twist around the fibres of his shirt.

"Goddamn, darlin'," he rasps; those brown molten eyes pulling you in.

His fingers drag down on your bottom lip and looks into your mouth as though it can’t possibly be real.

He pulls you down to him and licks his tongue into your cheeks again, a little softer this time as he regains some control over himself. It slows; the burst, the eruption, now a reduced flow.

Letting the frenzy bloom into an insatiable desire as he really tunes into you, tastes you again. 

You’re soaring as you suck on his lip and he moans out in delight. You want him inside of you so badly. He leans up, deeper into the kiss, and then yelps.

“Aw fuck!” He twists his hand behind him. 

“You okay, what’s wrong?” You pulse to him, your hands on his stacked chest. His heartbeat thrashing underneath them. 

“S’my back. Think I pulled it as I fell.” He winces as he tries to sit up fully, and you shuffle off his lap; the heated lust in you has a glass of ice water thrown in its face as you try to assist him flaccidly.

“Shit,” he grumbles.

You sigh out and then chuckle inwardly, despairing at how the fire between your legs is abruptly doused.

“Ya laughin’ at me?” He narrows at you with a cocked brow.

You shake your head. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you smirk.

He smirks back, his cheeks flushing, hair a ravaged mess from your desperate raking of it.

“Come on, let’s get you up. Slowly now.” You encourage.

It takes three attempts to stand fully and even that seems like a mountain he will never peak. Joel hisses as he clutches the bottom of his spine that sears and pulls tighter with each movement.

“Was too close for my likin’,” he mutters, as he limps up the hill holding onto your shoulder.

You take his weight, but you can feel he’s not putting it all on you. He waits whilst you bend to pick up his shotgun when you come across it.

“Mm,” you say with a frown blooming, somewhere a fissure inside you erupts.  

“The infected, I mean.” He assures you with a side glance. 

“I know.” You nod forlornly.

Your mind conjures scenarios that you don’t dare venture down. Cutting into the elation of the ghostly graze of Joel's lips still felt on yours. 

Something's happened, something's gone wrong out there. You can feel it as it claws at your belly skin, ripping you open.

“Don’t do that.” You hear Joel cut in. “They’re fine.”

You look at him as he hobbles beside you and a restrained smile is offered to him. He always could read you so well. 

"You don't know that." You mumble.

"I know Tommy... n' ya know Kelper. They're fine." He reassures.

You nod at him, even though the knot tightens in your gut.

Inside the shack Joel wobbles onto the cot and grimaces as he thuds down on it.

It's only then you realise his face is scratched up a little from the brambles, and the back of his hands too. Tiny red criss-crosses that graze.

“Is there a first aid kit in any of these tins?” You ask as you leave him to rummage in them. 

“Back one,” he grunts.

You reach for it and bring it over, pulling out expired antiseptic wipes and tearing the packets open. He tries to avoid it, but you pull his mitts forward anyway and swipe over them gently with the wipe. 

Joel bites down on his cheeks as he feels a little sting in the grazes, fragrant with an archaic artificial scent, but the pain in his back mutes it out.

You go for his face, but he gently bats your hand away. “M’fine, don’t fuss,” he gruffs softly and you back off.

He swings his legs up onto the cot and lays flat on his back. 

“Is there some painkiller in here?” You ask, rifling around, but find none. 

“Doubtful,” he mutters. 

“Why, did you trade it all for sourdough bread?” You smirk and you see Joel chuckle silently with his arm slung over his eyes.

“Pumpernickel.” He grins. 

You can’t help but laugh and so does he.

A heavy wheeze that rolls up from the deep pits of his chest and out the back of his throat. He laughs too hard and then winces again, and you both soften until the silly guffaws between you cease to longing smiles. 

"You're such a shit," you smirk. 

"Y'used to love me for it." He says, and then the smiles dissipate and the silence feels heavy again between you. 

You stand to return the tin to the shelf, you hear him shift on the cot.

“C’mere, lay with me.” Joel says suddenly. 

You turn and he’s reaching out his hand.

“I should keep watch.” You say, hating yourself immediately for saying it. Wondering why you're even saying it, it’s stupid. Futile.

You want nothing more than to be in his arms once again. To feel his weight crushing on yours, to taste his lips again.

To feel how hard he still gets for you after all this time.

“Could, or ya could just come n’ lay with me here for a bit.” He coaxes.

His eyes are blazing, marred with something other than ill-intention or pain. You decide it must be hunger because you know that look swimming inside of his brown irises - you never forgot it. 

You sigh, with a defeated smile and kick your boots off. You climb over him carefully, as he holds his arm out and you nestle down inside of it; your head cushioned on his shoulder.

His scruff scratches softly against your forehead and you feel his fingers gripping around the top of your shoulder, pulling you in closer to him. 

Joel smells wild, like the outside; wet leaves and soil. The faint aroma of sweat procrastinates around his shirt collar that flaps open at the neck.

You can smell the sun in the layers of his skin. A redolence of spice, possibly bergamot, buried deep in his pores somewhere.

The scent of nostalgia rears its head and leaves flutters in your chest and groin alike. He smells like home, or what home used to smell like all those years ago when you still had one.

He shuffles, adjusting to the invasion of your body against his and grunts.

“Is this okay?” You ask, you don’t want to cause him any more physical pain; the cot is only barely big enough for one, let alone the two of you squashed on it.

You feel the wall hard and uncomfortably flat against your back and buttocks.

“S’perfect.” Joel whispers. 

You feel him plant a long, unwavering kiss into your hairline and you think that this is what it must feel like to dive face first into the sun.

You lay on him, listening to his heartbeat and thinking of all the things that are on the tip of your tongue. But cowardice renders you mute. 

"S'been a long time." He starts quietly, and you know instinctively what he means.

The kiss that had exploded outside between the both of you infecting poisonous fear or doubt under his skin. And you can already feel your heart start to shrink. 

"I know. Me too." Your tone is flat. Your hand on his chest is pulling back lightly.

He stops it, firmly placing his over yours and warming it instantly. 

"I want to. Ya don't know how much I want to right now." He reassures. "Fuckin' back," he then grumbles on a distorted sigh. 

"Really?" 

"Darlin'." 

You smile and he can hear it click around your teeth. "I remember it was always…"

You search for the word knowing nothing you can say will do it justice. Joel had been a highly attentive lover equipped with an unrelenting stamina in his youth. 

Your mind casts back to a hazy, younger version of him being between your legs for what seemed like hours; drawing and pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your soaking core and into his waiting, hot mouth.

He’d take his sweet time in devouring you. It felt like the sex between you was the driving force of your relationship sometimes - you couldn’t get enough of one another. 

"It was." He agrees with a small smile crooking on the corner of his mouth.

And then you sigh wearily. The pink swirling thoughts crushed by a brutish reality that bulldozes over the possibilities.

He's right, it has been a long time.

It's been so long since you revealed your naked self to another person, vulnerable and bare. Your body isn’t what it once was. Where it was once supple and full, it’s now stretched and sagging in places.

And that panic floods you, freezes your body still and he feels you tense up under his grip.

“Stop it.” He murmurs into your hair and you smile at how he can do that still. How he can wrangle that angst out of you magically with just a few reassuring and gentle commands. 

"What if… after all this time we’re just fooling ourselves, Joel? The world is a very different place now. Is it even possible to find some semblance of happiness and cling onto it? Maybe it’s just a pipedream. A nice one, but a pipedream nonetheless.”

You’re unsure why you’re saying this, but it rolls off your tongue nonetheless, sticks to the back of your teeth like cloying fudge.

His eyes cloud over, and the tension pulls his face into that frown you’ve come to know over the last few days. Without it, he just simply isn’t Joel.

Your name is a gruff whisper on his lips as he shifts, grunting in pain, to face you, or make you face him. Subtle movements that now have your noses aligned.

“What ya scared of?” And it’s a question that carries so much weight. 

“Everything,” you barely whisper.

He pulls it out of you with those warm chocolatey eyes. “Losing you again.” You confirm after a few beats. "I was an idiot to ever let you go. I'm so sorry. I never got to tell you that."

"I know." He says. "M'sorry I couldn't make ya stay."

"No, it was all me-"

"No, darlin'. We were young. Wasn't the right time." He soothes.

"It was the best time though, wasn't it?"

He nods. “M’right here.” Joel squeezes your hand tight against his chest. You can feel the thrum of his heartbeat against your knuckles. “I’ve always been here.”

His expression flinches, melting away into something softer in the deep lines around his eyes. 

“Can we do this?” You query into his neck, seeking refuge there for a moment, faltering under his gaze. “Us again?”

“Do ya want to?” He asks back as you inhale against his skin. 

“Do you?”

“S’not what I asked ya.” He snuffles. “Tell me what ya want.”

You can feel the tears prickling in your eyes as he speaks into your hair. He hears you sniff and he reacts by holding you tighter, crushing you to him almost. A mouth full of flannel plaid shirt, as it drags against your eyelids wiping them dry.

You want to tell him; you want to rip it out of your chest and hand it to him in a sloppy puddle. You don’t want to hesitate, to shrink back into yourself. You don’t want to keep enduring and surviving because without him it’s all for nothing anyway.

You need to tell him that it’s him, it's always been him. That he's the greatest love of your life, the deepest hole in your heart.

But the words won’t come. They’re right there on the back of your tongue. You’ve seen so much horror, lived through it, but right now, you’re the most terrified you’ve ever been in your life. 

And so is he.

In a voice that is both low and so familiar in shackled want, he says “I don’t wanna lose ya again either, darlin’.”

He’d rip the world apart with his bare hands if he lost you again now. And strangely, that thought doesn’t scare him like it used to. 

It catches in the back of your throat, his omission. His softly spoken vow, and it draws your face back up to his to witness the sincerity as it warms your veins. 

You brush your thumb over the line of his jaw, feeling the soft greying scruff there that’s aged with him.

And he's never looked more fucking beautiful as you finally brave yourself to peep at him again. To confront everything you've wanted. Everything you've fought through to get here.

To get back into his arms.

“Never again, Joel.” You agree. “I’m not losing you ever again.”

His hand is felt on your lower back as he engulfs you. 

“Ya damn right ya ain’t.” Joel presses his lips to yours, tilting your chin up to him.

And you breathe him in, right down into the centre of your chest.

To be continued...

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@secretelephanttattoo @morgaussy @darkheartgatita @sp00kymulderr @survivingandenduring @sin-djarin @lilmizmoz @yazsos @ryangoslingstanktop @barbellpedro @givemeth @anavatazes @alwaysmicado @the-blind-assassin-12 @kirsteng42 @missredherring @gasolinerainbowpuddles @millennial-teenybopper @maggiemayhemnj @harriedandharassed @stevie75 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @chaoticfestninja @reddedmiller @doughmonkey @sonderosa @magpiepillsjunior @chronically-ghosted @pedroswife69 @regalwhovianbrowncoat774 @marisemonteiroo @everythingiwanttoread @jjhayhay20 @nerdieforpedro @perennialdoll247 @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @sscorpiiio @untamedheart81 @srmacaroni @violinchick @orcasoul @lucyeyelesbarrow @mandrillusphinx @loveisacowboyyy @suzmagine @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @within-the-depths

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #five days series #five days #jett's writing

[dearmantis]

So I stayed in the darkness with you

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x wife!Reader

Summary: When you finally wake up and the joy of seeing your husband alive and well dies down you have a conversation you've always wanted to avoid.

Warnings: mentions of death, murder and violence, mentions of grisha persecution, this is not a healthy relationship but they love each other very much, slight gaslighting, mentions of human trafficking

Word Count: 3.6k words

Authors Note: I really thought I would never write this, but I'm having a rare moment where I crave comfort. Also, a few people asked for this (and apparently, some people cried after part 2??? I'm so sorry about that I hope you guys are alright now!). I think this is the end of this? Its not the ending I expected when I first wrote the A lost embrace one shot but it is where we ended up. I hope you guys like it :) I'm not a native English speaker and this isn't edited.

The title of this part (and the name of the series) is from Cosmic Love by Florence + the Machine

Previous Part | Masterlist

When you wake up, it's to the sound of a few birds chirping outside and waves crashing against rocks. You don't open your eyes for a while, instead choosing to enjoy the soft atmosphere around you, letting yourself glide into consciousness slowly and carefully.

It's warm and soft, wherever you are. You feel safe.

Your arms and legs still feel a bit sore even without trying to move them, so you simply breathe in and back out, enjoying the fresh air that faintly smells of lavender, salt and rosemary.

With every minute you spend laying there, eyes still tightly closed, you notice more things around you.

A weak breeze moves the leaves on a tree outside. Occasionally, you can hear muffled steps coming from somewhere other than wherever you are right now. Someone other than you is in the room, fabric rustling quietly when they move. You're not afraid.

It takes a while until you feel ready to try and open your eyes, and when you do, your gaze imediately and instinctively move to the chair next to your bed where your husband is waiting for you, his dark eyes glued to your face and a glass of water in his hand. He's not wearing his kefta, you notice. Just a black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Not a single speck of gold is visible on him.

A small smile charms itself onto your lips before you can stop it.

"Do you feel ready to rejoin the world of the living?" he asks quietly, waiting for your nod before reaching over to hold the glass of water against your lips.

You empty the glass quickly, your dry throat desperate for any kind of liquid. He takes the glass away slowly, moving to fill it up with more water before placing it back against your lips.

You drink three glasses of water that way. That's how much you need to drink to banish the itching from your throat. Damn those soldiers.

"How long... how long was I asleep?" You ask after Aleksander places the glass back down on the nightstand next to the bed. He doesn't respond for a while, instead moving carefully to check if your body is fully tucked in and warm under the thick blanket covering your body.

"Two weeks," He answers finally while he shuffles around. "You were woken up a few times to make sure you eat and drink, but I doubt you remember that. Fedyor thought it was best if your body got time to recover energy on its own. The two weeks in the cage, the torture, the starving and dehydration, lack of sleep, and even the healing took a huge toll on your body."

The Shadow Summoner moves back to his chair, but before he sits down, he checks if your pillow is fluffy, his gaze awfully serious considering his current task.

Letting the information settle for a bit, you look around in the room you're in. You don't recognize where you are. The old, dark wooden floors are new to you, just like the walls decorated with small drawings and letters you're too far away from to read. When you look outside, you see the ocean.

"Where are we?"

Your hand moves to grab Aleksanders wrist before he can step back to sit down on his chair again, carefully pulling him closer towards you. He looks tired, deep shadows visible below his dark eyes. He needs to rest, probably more than you do, considering you apparently slept for two full weeks. A small, amused smile finds its way onto his lips before he carefully moves to sit down next to you on the large bed you're occupying. You move to give him space, encouraging him to lay down instead of sitting.

"I'll be more relaxed if you're next to me," you reason when he tries to argue, and the mighty, dangerous Darkling gives in, slipping under your blanket and resting his head next to yours on the pillows. You're still mad at him, a deep-rooted hatred for him burning deep in your chest, hotter than the sun itself, but feeling him next to you is nice. It almost feels safe.

Once he settles down, he answers, his voice even quieter and softer than it was before.

"In Fjerda. Kenst Hjerte, to be exact."

Ulla. You're with Ulla. Outside of Ravka. Away from everything he has built. Away from his sun summoner.

"Ivan is still in Ravka with a few others to make sure that no Grisha are left in cages. The rest is up here."

You want to say something, like acknowledge the fact that it must've been almost impossible to move a large group of Grisha through Fjerda undetected, but you don't want to interrupt him. He has that far away look in his eyes, and you assume this must be the first time he's letting himself actually work through and think over the events of the past month.

"Ulla wasn't particularly excited to see such a huge group, you can probably imagine. She has never been fond of company, after all, but she accepted it as long as she could stay away, and I don't tell anyone about her presence."

A smirk appears on his lips, and his eyes find yours. "The last bit that convinced her was the absence of Baghra, of course. As soon as she found out that she was still in Ravka, she was suddenly alright with everyone staying as long as the group doesn't pull attention towards the islands, and no one get's close to her."

Mirroring his smile, you watch him for a few seconds, carefully turning your body to lay on its side.

"So we're hiding again."

Aleksander opens his mouth to respond, probably ready to justify his decision, not realising that he doesn't have to. You're glad. Disappearing back into hiding is arguably the first sensible decision he has made since the sun summoner showed up. You're just surprised that he got to this decision himself. He's usually not someone who admits defeat, at least not without you forcing him to. You expected him to do something stupid, like try to fight the entire First Army and the Sun Summomer on his own and get killed in the process.

"I've never really been in hiding before, not since I was a child, at least. Most of the others never had to be. This will probably be really weird, but I'm excited to learn. Are we going to stay here or move somewhere else?"

He seems a bit surprised by the fact that you're not against his decision, pausing for a few seconds to study your facial expressions before he answers.

"I hope to stay here as long as possible, but we have to be prepared to leave any minute. I hope that Ivans group can collect the last Grisha that don't want to serve Vasily and come up here without attracting too much attention, but it's impossible to tell if that will work out."

You nod slowly, carefully putting together a picture of what has happened in the month that you've been out of the loop.

"Do you think there's a risk that Vasily could find out that we're hiding here and tell the Grimjer family? Maybe as an offering of some kind to kindle peace between Ravka and Fjerda and end the war?"

The darkness that flickers in his eyes for just a second makes clear that he has thought about that possibility as well. It would make sense, after all. Give up the Darkling, his wife, and the Grisha that side with them in exchange for peace. You are all considered enemies of the ravkan royal family anyway, so it wouldn't be a loss for Vasily.

"The risk is always there, but I have hope that the preparation of the royal wedding will distract everyone enough to make sure that we can get everyone out of the country without anyone noticing. The people want to celebrate their sun queen and hope for a better future. It should be easy for skilled soldiers to get through and out of the country unnoticed."

It takes you a few seconds until you realize what he just said, and when you finally do, a confused frown appears on your face.

"Sun queen? Is Vasily marrying Alina?"

Aleksander nods.

"And you're not... you're not on your way to rip him to shreds and take her for yourself?"

He let's out a long, loud sigh and turns his head to look at the ceiling, choosing to stay silent for so long that you start to believe that he's not going to respond at all. The only proof that you have that he's actively thinking about his response are the shadows slowly crawling over the floor and walls, swallowing the room and covering you under the familiar blanket of his very own darkness.

You have spent many private moments like this, cloaked by his powers, including your first kiss, your first time sleeping together, and your wedding night. As long as he controls his shadows, you will always have a home.

When he finally does speak, it's soft and light as a feather, his voice drifting through the air like an ancient melody.

"In those two weeks where I was convinced I would be too late, that you were dead, I learned something very important about myself."

Behind him, the shadows crawl up to cover the window, swallowing the last bit of light in the room.

"You are part of me the same way the shadows are part of me. Even if I hate you and you hate me, I can't change that. Losing you would be like losing a vital organ. Even if you chose to despise me for eternity, to never speak to me again, I need to be around you. I'm not fully myself if I'm not with you, sweet girl. You are part of me, just like I hope I am part of you."

You can't see him, but you can hear how he turns his head to look at you. "You can hate your heart and your powers as much as you want, you can't get rid of either. You need both to survive. And I need you the same way."

If anyone else, literally anyone else in the whole world had said this to you, you would've laughed so loud that you could still hear it in the Fold, but hearing those words come out of Aleksanders mouth, especially in that tone, makes you pause.

You know how he sounds when he lies, how his tone shifts to make every word sound just a bit smoother, a bit more convincing, but none of those signs are noticeable now. It's just his voice, in the same, normal, serious tone he uses during important discussions. The same tone he uses when he marries you once every hundred years.

"I have waited many centuries for the sun summoner. I can wait a few more if that means I can keep you with me."

The shadows retreat from the window, letting sunlight back into the room, but they continue to cover the walls, floor, and ceiling.

The light shows you his facial expression, the warm smile that softens his features and smooths the wrinkles in his skin.

"And what if I don't want to stay with you?" You ask quietly, afraid that you could shatter the atmosphere if you speak too loudly. "You hurt me a lot, Aleksander. I don't think I can do this again. What do I do if you randomly decide that you actually want the sun summoner more than me? If you leave me behind? What do I do if she dies and a new sun summoner appears in 300 years and you fall in love with them as well? I can't be your little bed warmer that fills the space next to you until your sun summoner comes back. I'm not strong enough to go through this again. Not tomorrow, not in twenty years, not in a thousand years. I can't do it again."

You try to turn away from him, but before you even get the chance to move, he wraps his arm around your torso and pulls you on top of him, every inch of your body touching his. His large hands cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"What can I do to prove to you that I will never leave you again?" he asks earnestly, and you can't stop yourself from whispering as you harshly move your head to escape from his grasp, your voice so quiet that it barely makes a sound at all.

"Kill Alina"

Your husband laughs, this time louder, amusement clear in his gaze as he grasps your face once more to make sure your eyes meet his.

"What was that, little wife?"

"What?"

"What you just said. You said something about Alina."

"No, I didn't. What are you talking about? Why would I talk about her while I'm lying on top of you? You must be hallucinating because of how exhausted you are." Your face contorts with mock concern, and Aleksander scoffs, swatting your hand away when you try to touch his face the way he's touching yours. "You should really sleep, my love. This isn't healthy for you at all. Come on, let's sleep. Good night."

You lean forward to press a quick good night kiss onto his lips – more of a peck than a kiss, really – when his grip on your face suddenly tightens, a loud squeak leaving your lips as he pushes you off of him and positions himself above you, switching your positions.

For a few seconds, you just stare at each other, taking each other in for a few seconds until Aleksander slowly bends down to press his lips against yours.

It's a soft kiss. Slow and sweet with an underlying bitterness that you want to ignore but can't.

His weight on you is familiar despite the fact that he isn't crushing you into the mattress the way he usually would, holding himself up with his arms to keep the majority of his weight off of your still recovering body.

When he finally lifts his head and ends the kiss, you smile at him for a second before seriousness washes the softness from your face.

"I'm serious, Sasha. You hurt me. A lot. And I'm not strong enough to withstand this again. If you want your sun summoner, tell me now. I won't even leave, I promise, so you can just tell me. I just want to be prepared, please." Unshed tears fill your eyes, turning your sight blurry as you stare up at your husband who simply watches you, his own face focused solely on you, face blank like a sheet of paper as he listens to your words.

"You left me. After more than 200 years together, you left me for a child. You lied to me and deceived me, pushed me to the side, and ignored me. Two centuries of partnership thrown away because of her. How am I supposed to ever trust you again?"

You regret letting him turn you now. Sitting on top of him gave you a bit of strength, made you feel stronger and bigger than you really are, especially right now in your weakened state. Now you feel small, caged in by his body and his watchful gaze that you're unable to escape. Pathetic, that's how you feel. You should be stronger than this by now, yet here you are, fighting back tears like a child.

"What if you suddenly decide you want her instead of me in a year or two? Do I have to put myself into a life-threatening situation just to remind you that I'm apparently important to you? What will it take next time? All of Fjerda hunting me? Getting sold like cattle in Ketterdam? Experiments in Shu Han? Is that what needs to happen to keep you interested in me? Because that's not worth it, Aleksander. I love you, I do, but I deserve better than that."

He doesn't react for a while, his eyes simply studying your face while he thinks over his response. After a few minutes, he lets himself sink down next to you, laying back on his side, his gaze still glued to you.

Aleksanders dark eyes do not move from you for what feels like hours, taking in every pore, every wrinkle, every bit of texture, taking his time to catalogue every single milimetre of your face in his mind.

He watches how you try to blink away your tears, angry at yourself for showing weakness in a moment where you have to be strong, and he hates himself for pushing you so far away from his heart that you feel like being vulnerable around him, showing weakness in from of your own husband, is a mistake.

He watches you bite your chapped lips, tearing the flesh and covering your front teeth with a bit of blood. An act of self-punishment or a nasty habit you may have developed while he was occupied with Alina? He hates himself more for not being able to answer that question.

It takes a while, but then his hands move to cup your face, holding you like a precious gem, his rough hands suddenly softer than cotton.

Aleksander doesn't tear up like you do. His hands don't shake, and his voice doesn't break when he speaks, but you can feel his sincerity ringing in the air like a bell.

"I'm sorry."

He apologized several times when he found you. Panicked, pained apologies filled with dread and relief and more fear than anyone should be able to feel. But now he's calm. He's not scared of death ripping you out of his grasp in the next minute, isn't trying to lift some of his own guilt off his shoulders before you die in his arms. He had two weeks of processing his thoughts on his own. He had time to think over every mistake he has made, and he intends to right them, starting with you and what he has done to you.

"I'm sorry that I ever made you feel like you weren't enough. I'm sorry for acting like you aren't enough. I'm sorry for forgetting how much greater you are than me. You are and will always be the most precious thing in my life, the most wonderful thing the making could've ever given me. I am a foolish man, but I should know better than that. And you shouldn't forgive me. I do not deserve forgiveness, but I can't help but hope for it anyway. I pray that you find it in your endlessly kind heart to give me one last chance. If you do, my love, my beautiful, wonderful, perfect little wife, I swear I'll make you queen. I will end the Lantsov line and kill the sun summoner and give you the country we once called home. I will give you anything you want, I promise it."

A loud sob tears through your throat, tears running freely over your face and soaking into the pillow below you as you listen to him bear his old, rotten heart and soul to you.

"I don't want the throne," you rasp out. "I just want you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"I know. And I failed to give it to you, but I promise that this will never happen again. Kill me if it does. Stab me in the heart while I sleep, poison my food, slit my throat. I swear that I will not defend myself. Bring my head to the Apparat and let him turn you into a Saint if I betray you again, my love, but please give me this one chance to prove myself to you. I will not fail you again, I swear it."

You almost laugh at that, but the shimmering in his eyes stops you before you can even smile. It's like he's fighting himself to make sure he doesn't cry, reminding you that this is serious.

"I will actually do it, you hear me? If you betray me again, I will rally the Grisha against you. Ulla, too, while I'm at it. They like me more than you anyway. I'll chop your head off and give it to the Apparat and become Sankta Y/N of the dawn or whatever they end up calling me. I'll make sure there are thousands of paintings of how I murdered you. And I'll make it seem like it was easy, too. I'll tell them I overpowered you effortlessly and cut your heart out while you confessed your love to me or something. All of Ravka will make fun of how you died. It'll overshadow the horror stories about the Black Heretic. You will become the joke of a whole nation."

He smiles softly. "I would expect nothing less of you, my love."

You mirror his smile weakly, eyes flickering down to his lips twice before slowly leaning in. Aleksander waits for you, refusing to move while your breath ghosts over his lips.

"Are you sure?" he asks, waiting for you to decide what to do. The tension between you two is heavy, your nose filling with his oh so familiar scent with every breath you take.

"I am," you answer almost silently. "I don't forgive you, not yet. But I think I can give you one last chance. I think I can do it."

Laughing weakly, you continue, "Especially now that I'm allowed to murder you if you betray my trust again."

He hums, his nose brushing softly against yours as he waits for you to confirm your decision.

When you do, your lips pressing against his, it tastes like ash and death, like destruction and poison and chocolate and peace and promises.

It tastes like sin. It tastes like coming home. It tastes like love.

Taglist: @budugu @purebloodwitch @hells-escapees @savagejane1 @deadunicorn159

#aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling x reader

[misc-obeyme]

Heya, CC - hope you're doing well!

First time submitting off anon but I noticed you didn't have a Flufftober promt yet for Lucifer so I'm hoping to throw my hat in the ring

I sort of hc that MC carries around eyedrops for when Lucifer overworks himself and his eyes start to hurt😅

Idk, nothing too crazy but I think he'd appreciate the little things <3

Looking forward to your uploads regardless! ^.^

Hello there, my friend! It looks like you were still on anon when you sent this, so feel free to reveal yourself if you'd like! But no pressure, you are welcome to stay anon, too. :)

Now listen, this is exactly the kind of thing that would matter so much to Lucifer.

And since this is Flufftober, well... I definitely fluffed it up lol. I sometimes get a little cheesy when writing fluff, but I also feel like that's just the nature of fluff, you know?

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Lucifer

Warnings: none!

Lucifer was an important demon. He had a lot of others depending on him, a lot of work he had to do every day, so many demands on his time. It required all of his energy to keep on top of everything and yet he managed to do it. And he made it look easy.

To everyone else, Lucifer was the one they could always turn to for help. He could take care of anything. The responsibilities he shouldered were heavy things that he carried every day and he never faltered.

And then you showed up. You became another person for him to take care of and at first he only did it because Diavolo wanted him to. But as time passed, he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed your company. There was something about your very presence that made all of his burdens seem lighter.

For a while, Lucifer just allowed this reality to exist within him. His pride let him tell you directly that he liked when you were beside him, but his pride also prevented him from telling you why.

Lucifer noticed right away when you started doing things that perhaps would mean very little to someone else. You would do something as simple as asking him if he had eaten yet or when the last time he stood up from his desk was. Things nobody else would think to ask because they would just assume that Lucifer was on top of it the way he was with everything else.

But every time you checked in like that, every time you brought him coffee without him needing to ask, every time you simply showed up to sit in his office with him, every time you did some insignificant thing to lighten his load, Lucifer fell for you just a little bit more. He didn't even realize it was happening.

It was a late night and Lucifer still had piles of paperwork to get through. He would never say it out loud, but he was fairly certain that this was some leftover torture method that the Devildom never quite phased out. He was hunched over his desk, fully consumed in the work before him, determined to get through the current pile before the night was over.

You were sitting across from him, quietly reading a book. You often sat up with him, even if every half hour he tried to get you to go to bed. You would just smile at him and say that you weren't tired.

And Lucifer let it go for another half hour. He let it go because he wanted you there.

When he finally finished the last page of the pile he was working on, Lucifer sat up straight, leaned back in his chair, and sighed heavily.

You looked up from your book. "You're finally done!"

Lucifer smiled at you, but it was a weak, tired smile. "I only succeeded because you were here with me, MC."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh sure, Mr. Why-Don't-You-Go-To-Bed-Now."

Lucifer chuckled. He put down his pen and rubbed at his eyes, fingers pressing into them as they burned.

He didn't see you standing up from your chair, but he opened his eyes when he heard you put your book down on his desk. He watched as you pulled a small bottle of eye drops from your pocket and handed it over to him.

Lucifer took the bottle and looked at it with a baffled expression before looking back at you.

"You're rubbing your eyes again," you said, as if it was obvious. "So use some eye drops."

Lucifer frowned. "Do you have problems with your eyes, MC?"

Now it was your turn to look confused. "What? You're the one whose eyes are hurting, not me."

"But you carry these drops in your pocket," Lucifer said. "You must need them if you keep them on your person all the time."

You blinked for a moment, then smiled a little sheepishly. "Oh. Well. I started carrying them for you. This isn't exactly the first time I've seen you rubbing your eyes like that."

Something thudded in Lucifer's heart. Something he didn't know about until that very moment. Something that had been working so hard and taking care of so much that it had forgotten the feeling of someone else taking care of him.

It was so small. Such a little thing. And yet, for Lucifer Morningstar, it was everything.

He put the bottle down on the desk. He would use them in a minute. Right then, he cared far more about coming around his desk to hold you.

You seemed a little surprised when he put his arms around you without speaking. But after a moment, you pressed your face into him, as though his embrace was the one place where you belonged.

The way you so effortlessly made his life better with every little thing you did indicated to Lucifer that it was indeed where you belonged. Right there, beside his heart.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me flufftober #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer obey me #om lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me fic #misc flufftober 2023 #misc writes

[emmie-tt]

Eternity

Jasper Hale x Wife!reader (AVENGERS CROSSOVER)

Description: you were married with a beautiful son before he went “missing” and after he ran away from Maria she went after you only for her to send you to hydra after seeing potential. When you return from Hydra you find out what she did to Jasper and kill her. Flash forward to now you get a call that Carlisle needs help protecting his family from the volturi and you see someone you thought you never would…

Mc's gifts/powers

Mind reading: the power to sense and hear others thoughts

Telekinesis: the ability to influence and move objects without touching them

Mind manipulation: the ability to change what others are thinking

Telepathy: The ability to receive and transmit information with your mind

Energy Absorption: The ability to take and use anothers power/gift

WARNINGS: none...

MAIN MASTERLIST

JASPER AND MC'S SON'S NAME WAS JAMES

JASPER AND READER GOT MARRIED AT 14 AND HAD JAMES AT 15

MARIA KI!!ED JAMES AFTER SHE TOOK MC (JAMES WAS 5)

CARLISLE DIDN'T KNOW JASPER AND MC USE TO BE/STILL ARE MARRIED

ALICE HAS A MATE NAMED THOMAS, HER AS JASPER ARE BEST FRIENDS

MC CAN SLEEP BUT SHE DOESN'T HAVE TO

Y/N POV

A small sigh leaves my lips as my door bell rings again, with a small groan I get up and walk to my door opening it. As soon as the door is opened all the way I make eye contact with an old friend causing my eyebrows to furrow.

"carlisle? why are you- sorry that's rude, is everything okay?"

A small chuckle leaves his lip as he shrugs "i need some help, can we have a chat?"

I nod and open the move out of the way allowing him to enter my home, I lead him into my living room where he takes a seat on my couch. I sit on the chair across from him as worry slowly overtakes my mind "carlisle? what is it? what's going on?"

He looks at me and asks "you know Edward right?" earning a nod from me "well...he recently got married, to a human..."

My eyes widen "what? why- wait why am i needed?"

He sighs and continues "she wound up pregnant on the honey moon and had the baby a few days ago, we turned her shortly after the birth but the volturi have caught wind of the child and are coming after her."

My heart sinks "and your planning on fighting them?"

He shakes his head no "not if we don't have to...you see- they think she is a immortal child but she has already grown. she looks to be around 10 now, she's actually only a few weeks old...were hoping we can prove to them that she isn't a threat to our kind without a fight but we need witnesses and just in case people who are willing to fight for her..."

I nod and take a deep breath while letting my gaze drift to the fireplace in my living room, on the mantle of it rests a bunch of old pictures...I slowly zone out on the picture of my son and my husband playing...

-FLASHBACK-

I look up when I hear laughing, a smile forms on my face as I see Jasper chasing James. I set the dish down and wipe my hands off on my dress skirt before making my way outside.

As i'm about to walk out the door I grab our camera and continue out. I snap a few pictures of my boys as they play around with each other. I set them on the rail of our porch and admire them, as I get lost in my thoughts I feel arms wrap around me causing me to jump

I look up and see Jasper looking back at me with a smile "well hello their darlin' "

I smile and turn around in his arms "hi cowboy" I say earning a chuckle from Jasper, he kisses my forehead then my nose and finally my lips before I hear a small southern accent yell out "mama!" I look down as his small arms wrap around my skirt

I smile and lean down picking him up as he cuddles close to me, I turn back around admiring the view as I lean back against my husband wondering how I got so lucky

-FLASHBACK OVER-

I snap out of the memory and wipe my eyes quickly when I hear Carlisle say my name again. I look up at him "i'll help..."

He smiles softly and gets up walking over to me and gently hugging me "my family thanks you...i'll wait for you to get a bag packed okay?"

I nod hugging back for a moment before getting up and heading up to my room and grabbing a bag, as I throw things into the bag and go through my closet my eyes land on an old photo album.

With shaky hands I grab it and walk back over to my bed and sit down. As I open the album tears immediately spring in my eyes as I see my old wedding photos, I continue going through the album when Carlisle comes into the room "everything okay?"

My head snaps up and I nod as he walks over and sits next to me, his eyes land on a 15 year old version of me holding a newborn baby, he looks back at me "is that..?"

I take a deep breath and nod before closing the book and placing it in my bag "my son...james.."

He watches me with pity in his eyes as I zip my bag and sling it over my shoulder, we both make our way downstairs and out to his car. As I get situated Carlisle glances over at me before staring forward again and starting the car, his mind was stuck on the picture of the baby, he looked so familiar but he just couldn't put his finger on why...

-TIME SKIP A FEW HOURS-

After a long dreamless nap I feel myself being shaken awake, I open my eyes and look over at Carlisle "were here"

I nod and stretch slightly before glancing around, i'm amazed at the beautiful house and all of the greenery, when I go to tell Carlisle my thoughts five people make their way out of the house

I sigh and get out of the car, Carlisle gets my bag out of the back seat as the child along with Edward and i'm guessing his wife approach me. I smile at Edward who smiles back

My eyes land on the child who is staring at me obviously confused, I slowly kneel down in front of her and smile "well hello there...i'm y/n what's your name sweetheart?"

She smiles back while giggling softly "i'm renesme...your accent is very pretty"

I smile and giggle softly as well "thank you" she makes eye contact with me and cups my face softly causing me to flinch slightly before allowing her to do whatever it is

My eyes widen slightly before allowing them to flutter close as I watch her memories. After a minute I open my eyes and look at her with amazement "you, young lady have an extraordinary gift..."

She smiles and looks back at her parents who are also smiling, she looks back at me with a confused look again "what are you?"

I giggle and stand up "i'm a hybrid...vampire and super soldier"

Her eyes widen and she looks back at her parents again, Edward nods and chuckles softly at her look of surprise, the door opens again and I look up to see a short dark haired girl who is smiling and makes her way down to us. "hi! i'm alice!"

I smile softly at her and make a noise of surprise when she pulls me into a hug "oh- hi! i'm y/n"

A giggle leaves her lips as she pulls back "i know, i can see the future. we are gonna get along well"

I nod and smile as she grabs my hand and leads me into the house...the house that is full of vampires...my nerves spike as I glance around making eye contact with random red eyes before my eyes land on a pair of wide yellow eyes

-FLASHBACK A FEW HOURS-

JASPERS POV

As I sit on the couch watching as Renesme introduces herself and shows her memories to all the vampires who are arriving, I hear a small gasp and my eyes snap over to Alice who is frozen. Me and Thomas make our way over to her with concern

She snaps out of it and looks at me as a large smile graces her face "your wife...she's alive..."

I stare at her confused "what?"

She continues smiling "she's alive and- and she is gonna be here soon to help. your gonna get your wife back jasper..."

Before I could say anything she walks away leaving me confused

-FLASHBACK OVER-

Y/N POV

As I take in his face and slowly realize who i'm staring at Alice smiles squeezes my hand and whispers "go...go see your husband"

I don't say anything and nod before slowly weaving my way through the crowd towards the person I thought I would never see again, the man i've loved since 1858

I stop in front of him and look up at him as tears slowly make their way down my cheeks "my jasper..."

All the sudden my feet leave the ground and i'm being pressed against his cold body. My arms wrap around his neck as my legs wrap around his waist

The feeling of being in my husbands arms after so long brings the most amount of comfort i've felt in a long time...a comfort that I can only hope is permanent...

TAGLIST

@cherrybb-ily @rayliz793 @min-jianhyung @bunnymysteriously @angelgirl45367 @lovelybeardedsuit @mortallybitchybird @titaniatube @angelsincident @golgi-aparato @jovialwolfsoul @caityrayeraye @mkaybaby4 @iara-ximena17 @bluecrazedandbeautiful

I'm sorry it took so long to get this out!! I'm happy with how this turned out, feedback and ideas for other parts are always welcome!!

#jasper hale #jasper hale x wife!reader #jasper hale imagine #twilight #twilight x reader #twilight saga #the twilight saga #vampire!reader #super soilder!reader #hybrid!reader #jakesl-t #neytirisl-t

[opposums-love-arson]

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis

Okay so basically let's just cut to the chase, the main character "(y/n)" is Sidney Prescott's little stepsister, yeah? Well, what happens when she takes Sid's place as the final girl? A whole lot. Disclaimer: All rights reserved to the copy righted owners of the Scream franchise. The only creative input I had in this fan fiction was the part of (y/n), almost everything else can be found in the movie. Follows the movie very closely. I mean the actual movie, not the script. Obviously switching out some parts to fit the narrative. It takes a couple of chapters to really get it kicking but I promise it gets good. *NO SMUT* these are still high school students and I do not want to overtly sexualize KIDS! And if you make the argument of "I'm not a kid" I'm 18 been there, done that, don't try it.

  "Hello, who is it?" I asked into the large telephone. 

"No one in particular..." Sounds like another one of the boys' prank calls.

"Okay Mr. No one in particular, any reason for the call?" 

"No reason in particular, just wanted to talk." 

"Hmm okay then talk," I said as I swiveled around in my chair.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" The raspy but oddly pitched voice asked. 

"Oh I've got plenty but you might want to sit down, it'll take a while." 

"I've got time." 

"Ya know, stuff like Halloween, Friday the 13th, Texas Chainsaw. Then there's creature features like The Thing. B-horror like Slumber Part Massacre or Sleepaway Camp." I finally finish my rambling when I hear my step sister and her boyfriend in the other room. 

"Do you really like scary movies?" 

"Oh yeah definitely but I think it's mainly because of my step sister's friends?" 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah, I mean I always liked horror but they really got me into it. Especially our friends Randy, Billy and Stu, they're crazy about that stuff!" I said as I flopped down onto my bed. 

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with all those guys?" 

"They're not a lot of guys, if anything it equals out our group," I said, completely avoiding the whole 'pretty girl' thing... that was kind of weird. 

Hearing a knock at my door completely startled me. 

"Oh um hey I have to go but feel free to call me back anytime," I whisper into the phone quickly placing it back on the body. 

It was obvious the person on the line was saying something before I hung up but I didn't bother to listen 

  In popped Neil's head from the other side of the door. "Hey kiddo who ya talking to?" He said as he looked around. "Hm? Oh no one, what's up Neil?" I asked, now back in my desk chair. Neil was a good guy, I'm glad he and my mom started dating, they actually just got engaged! I think I was more excited about it than my step sister, Sindey, she's still grieving. "Just got done talking to your sister, I'm going to hit the sack, remember I'm not back until sunday. Cash on the table and call if you need anything," He said waiting for me to say something. "Alright got it Neil, have fun at the expo!" I waved him off before he closed the door. 

  My mom and I didn't move to Woodsoro until she really started dating Neil. It's always just been her and I for as long as I can remember, but it feels good to be part of a complete family again. I missed our old home at first with all my friends and family but Sid quickly took me under her wing. I met all of her friends including Stu, Tatum, Randy and Sid's boyfriend Billy. I'll admit it was weird at first because they just saw me as the little step sister but once Randy and I went on a ranting debate about which was the real pioneer of Slasher; Texas Chainsaw or Black Christmas, it got a lot easier. Even though Stu and Billy were pretty cute I'll never be used to Stu's wild energy, nor Billy's slightly shady behavior.

  The next morning didn't go quite as expected... There were reporters, cameras, and news vans posted up all around school. Sid and I were freaked the moment we got off the bus. She was looking around bewildered by everything going on until we spotted one woman in particular, Gale Weathers. To say the least, Weathers was a total bitch towards Sid's mom's name. 

"Can you believe this shit?!" We heard a voice pop up from behind us. Sid totally jumped. 

"Tatum, what is going on?" Sidney asks, waving her arm out to the school. 

"Yeah, since when was Woodsboro flooded with reporters?" I looked over at Tatum, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"You don't know?" Tatum asked both of us, a hint of amusement on her face.

"No," Sid and I said in unison, still confused. 

"Casey Becker and Steve Orth were killed last night," She said with a harsh but light tone just above a whisper. 

"What?! No way!" Sid softly exclaimed. 

I was too shocked to say a single word so I just listened. 

"And we're not just talking killed, we're talking splatter movie killed. Ripped open, from end to end," Tatum talked about it with entertaining ease, like it was just gossip. 

I think I'm going to be sick. 

"Casey Becker, she sits next to me in English," Sid said looking over at her best friend. 

I think you mean sat, Sid. I thought. 

"Not anymore," Said Tatum with a wobble of her head. 

She went on saying, "It's so sad, her mom and dad found her hanging from a tree. Her insides on the outside." Shoving her hands near her stomach. 

"Oh my god," Sid said as she reached for the back of her neck, probably to feel the goosebumps that appeared. 

"Do they know who did it?" I finally asked, feeling the urge to know. 

The two looked over at me with Tatum saying, "Fucking clueless, I mean they're interogating the entire school? Teacher, students, janitors." 

"They think someone at school did it?" Sid asked

"They don't know, I mean Dewy was saying this is the worst crime he's seen in years. Even worse than-" Tatum paused when I nudged her side, "Well, it's bad." She finished. 

The bell signaling the start of the first period rang.

"C'mon Sid, we gotta get to class..." I said as I lightly grabbed her hand, giving it a slight reassuring squeeze. 

"Yeah, alright..." She responded, removing her hand from mine. She's just going through a lot right now. 

  Sitting through the first period is weird when you have a seat that was right behind a dead person. Not Casey Becker but Steve Orth. He'd ask me for a pencil or notes every day because he forgot his. Claimed it was because of football practice. Soon enough the five minute bell for next class rang. A class that didn't have any dead students.

  Walking to my locker to rotate my books I was blocked by none other than Stu Macher. 

"Hey, (y/n)," He drawled out my name with a big smile, "Whatcha up to?" 

"Getting my books Stu, same thing you should be doing." 

"C'mon, you're not still upset with me, are you?" He asked with a fake pout 

"Yeah actually I am Stu!" I shouted in a whisper 

"I couldn't help myself, I mean look at you?" He said as he squished my face. 

Swatting his hand away I said, "That's no excuse!" 

"You can be such a prude," he said as he leaned his head on my locker. 

"No, it's called being a good friend with a balanced moral compass that can see when her friend's boyfriend is about to cheat with her." I huffed as I slammed my locker door. 

"C'mon, (y/n)! You can't stay pissed forever! You'll come around eventually!" Stu shouted after me. 

"Like hell I will!" I shouted back. No matter how abundantly clear my feelings for him are, I would never do that behind Tatum's back.

#scream fanfic #ghostface x reader #stu x reader #billy x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream x reader #scream x yn

[braimin]

JSKWKWKA OHNMU GOD YESS BLOODHOUND ZORO UESSSS AND THEN HE'S LIKE. SOOO C9NFUSED ABOUT WHAT HE'S FEELING THAT HE GOES TO CHOPPER CAUSE HE'S SCARED HE'S GOING MADNOR SOMETHING AND LIKE CHOPPER IS LIKE NO YOU'RE NOT INSANE JUST A LITTLE HORNY AND LIKE MAYBE GET THERAPY OR SOMETHING AND ZORO OS LIKE OH THAT'S WHAT THAT IS??? AND THEN HE GOES TO SANJI AND HE'S LIKE "WANNA FUCK?" BUT SANJI IS NOT LIKE THAT SO THEY FIGHT AND NOW ZORO HAS TO LIKE ACTUALLY TRY TO WOO SANJI NOT JUST CAUSE HE WANTS TO FUCK HIM BUT ALSO BECAUSE HE'S GENUINELY IN LOVE WITH THE COOK sory I'll shut up now I took like two energy drinks and I feel like I could fight god

Not him bringing chopper into it 😭✨

Every one already kind of knows how.. weird Zoro can be when it comes to blood and violence. He's not called a demon for nothing you know. That's why his meditation and stuff is so important, he has to work really hard to keep his mind at ease and disciplined.

But when he comes back from the timeskip it's different. He's fairly calm for the most part, but after spending two years fighting every day, all day, his body is so used to battles being drawn out. Zoro comes back stronger so the small skirmishes they have out at sea are barely anything, he can sink a ship with a flick of his sword. And while he does get to enjoy big fights with really strong opponents, they can go weeks without coming across anything.

That alone leaves him keyed up, it makes him pace like a caged dog. But then Sanji gets thrown in the mix and it simultaneously gets better and worse. Because Sanji comes back stronger and their fights are more unpredictable with all their new moves. But he also comes back hotter, and watching this strong pretty boy jump around and get close to kicking his ass really affects him. He toes a very dangerous line when he asks Sanji to spar. It starts to worry him. Despite his years of well trained discipline, he feels like he's starting to lose it.

'Chopper is there a way you could knock me out after fights?' He doesn't bother asking Chopper in private, Zoro says it bluntly in front of him and Robin both. 'What ? Why would I need to do that?'

'I'm worried I'll lose control after one.' That only gets Chopper more panicked, even Robin turns her focus fully to him. 'How so? What's wrong with you?' He's already down at Zoro's leg pulling him toward a chair. Chopper makes him explain, so he tells him about how feels after short fights and how normally it's not a big problem, but lately when Sanji comes to spar with him afterwards he only gets more aggressive and he's starting to have these.. thoughts about him. 'Feels like I wanna eat him.' Is the only way he can put it into words.

'Eat?!' Chopper shrieks. He nods, though he gets the feeling that maybe he shouldn't have explained it that way because Chopper looks like he might pass out. On the other side of the table Robin laughs. 'You know, there's an island where couples bite and scar their partners to 'claim' them. Perhaps you feel something similar to that?'

Zoro raises a brow, 'We're not a couple.' Robin hums and cocks her head like she's thinking. "It is a sexual thing though, correct?' He nods. Chopper calms after hearing that and returns to his chair. ' If that's all it is, then why do you need me to sedate you? Just ask Sanji to help you.'

'Don't want to.' the idea of asking the cook for a favor pisses him off, and he's pretty sure the jerk will turn him down anyway; he's too obsessed with women. 'I can't knock you out after fights just because you get restless and aroused after them, Zoro.' He sighs in response, he honestly should've seen Chopper's refusal coming.

Later he sits in the kitchen alone with the cook and watches him make dinner. He decides he should just bite the bullet and ask. 'Cook.' Sanji doesn't look up from the stove and grunts. 'You ever think about fuckin me?' His whole body goes ridged and he turns slowly to face Zoro.

'What.' Zoro shrugs. 'Like after we spar and stuff. You ever think about it?' Sanji just stares for a long moment. '.. No? Do you?' The swordsman nods, 'Sometimes, yeah.'

'Why are you telling me this?' Zoro leans over the bar, 'Cause I think we should fuck.' He's gets a kick aimed at his head before he can fully finish what he's saying, but it's dodged easily.

'Get out of my kitchen, pervert!'

Zoro is not deterred by that reaction though. He goes to the cook at least once a day and says it again, and he gets the same reaction every time. But he still refuses to give up. He's already swallowed his pride and asked once, so he might as well keep asking. Because the reaction he gets is surprisingly not a total rejection, Zoro has seen Sanji reject a man before and this is different. His ears and neck go red in a way he's never seen, his voice wavers when he yells, and his kicks are weaker than usual. For all intents and purposes, he sounds so half-assed when he turns Zoro down.

Every embarrassed reaction only makes Zoro more interested. He starts making comments about Sanji's appearance and giving little suggestive touches just to watch him blush. And then after a while he realizes that honestly, this is only making his moods after fights worse. Because now Sanji gets all cute and embarrassed when they spar and it really makes Zoro want to sink his teeth in him and crush the cook in his hands. So when he hits on Sanji he aims to be as earnest as possible, so much so that he almost sounds desperate when he propositions the cook. Eventually he starts to see Sanji crack a little, he starts saying stuff back, only small vague responses at first though. But then he says something that Zoro feels like is a perfect opening.

'For fuck's sake Marimo, you're supposed take me on a date before you start saying dumb shit like that. Have some decorum.' Zoro immediately jumps on his chance. 'Okay, where?'

'..Where what?' Sanji pauses. 'Where do I take you on a date?' Zoro is kicked in the stomach before he can really prepare for it, this one is harder than usual.

'Why the fuck should I plan it? You're the one that wants to take me out. Figure it out yourself, Mosshead !' Sanji stomps off ahead of him, but Zoro doesn't mind. This is definitely a step in the right direction. Zoro feels like his end goal is right within reach now.

#zosan #sanji #zoro #one piece #it is infact not right within his reach though #because Sanji is a blushing virgin and thinks you can't have sex unless you love each other #Zoro does find some relief after fights tho #in the form of bullying Sanji and chasing after him to make him blush and squirm #it makes him feel like he's hunting because Sanji fr Runs Away now

[fairly-linked]

Presence (Twilight x GN!Reader) 🖤✨

A/N: Two fics in the same 24 hours??? Am I okay??? Yes, I'm on vacation. I have energy to write lmao. Eat it up while you can folks. Enjoy! 💖💖💖💖💖

TW: Mentions of depression, self-isolation and general stress on the reader.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Twilight noticed you'd been a little... off lately. A lot of things had happened over the last few days, and everyone was a bit on edge; the whole team being ambushed around almost every turn, you having trouble keeping up due to some kind of medical issue he wasn't understanding (which terrified him, of course, though he'd struggle to hide it for fear of overwhelming you), and not to mention Wars' and Legend's near constant bickering over trivial matters due to all the stress... But your breaking point seemed to come when the postman delivered a letter to you.

He'd watched as you read it, everyone else watching on as well as it seemed like the emotion drained from your very being. It worried him beyond words. His heart shattered at the sight of you so visibly... emotionally numb. And he'd asked if you were alright, but he knew he could only do so much-- he'd never want to push you.

So instead, he did what he thought was best: he managed to convince the Old Man to let the chain stay at an inn for a few days to give you time to recover from... whatever was going on with you. Twilight soon learned that even though Time didn't show it, he also seemed troubled by your sudden change in demeanor.

He was very thankful now more than ever that the Old Man was a good one at heart. If he hadn't been, the Rancher knew he wouldn't have let you rest.

So here they sit, him and the Old Man, together with the rest of the chain in the inn's dining hall for dinner. The only empty chair was yours, he noted with growing anxiety. You hadn't shown your face all day today...

"...Are they still asleep?" Time questioned him softly. "...This isn't good. They shouldn't be alone when they're feeling like this... It only serves to make things worse in the long run," he sighs.

Twilight nodded. He knew you had a habit of isolating when you weren't feeling your usual self, but... skipping all three meals today was unacceptable. He stood from the table suddenly, without finishing his own food; he'd been so worried about you he couldn't eat much of it anyway.

"I'm... I'm gonna go check on 'em," he states firmly, unable to mask the concern in his voice.

To his surprise, the Old Man didn't try to stop him; Time simply nodded, speaking softly.

"...Why don't you fix them a plate and bring it up? I know they may not want to eat, but even something is better than nothing. They need their strength..."

The Rancher nodded again, fixing you a a decent portion and bringing it up to your room.

When he reached your room, the one that the Old Man was kind enough to let you share with Sky (someone he knew wouldn't bother you)... He paused, his ears twitching slightly at the sound of soft sobs coming from the other side. His heart broke, and a lump formed in his throat; he was so worried about you. He hated to see you in such a state... Nevertheless, he knocked softly.

"(Y/n)? ...Can I come in...?"

The crying hushed immediately, and your shaky voice reached his ears. "W-What do you want...?"

He paused, trying to think of the best way to respond.

"...(Y/n), we're worried about you, darlin'. Can I come in please?"

...Silence. He sighed; he knew he shouldn't barge in on you, but--

"...Fine..."

He let out a sigh of relief at your answer. He opened the door softly, carrying the plate of still-warm food; the room was dark. No lights, the curtains were drawn... Oh, you poor thing, he thinks to himself.

"...I'm turnin' on the light, sweet thing," he says, flicking on the light and watching as your figure huddles deeper under the blanket. He sighs, setting the food down on the nightstand and taking a seat beside you on the bed.

"...Can I ask what's been goin' on with you lately? You've been so sad, and it worries me to see you like this, hun. It worries all of us..." he says softly, placing his hand on your hair and rubbing the top of your head softly with his thumb.

He could've sworn your voice broke a little as you speak again in a softer tone than ever. "...I don't wanna talk about it..."

He sighs, but nods. "...That's okay, darlin'. I won't push you to talk if you don't want to..." he mumbles, still stroking your hair.

"...Can I at least stay here for a bit? I haven't seen your pretty face all day, sweetums."

He hears you sniffle, but he can see you nod. It's hard to make out at first, with your figure huddled deeply under the comforter, but he smiles when he realizes you'd said yes.

He shifts, now sitting cross-legged on the bed beside you, his hand remaining on your head. He sighs, thinking about what he could do to make you feel better.

...He'd be lying if he said he didn't wish you were roomed with him for the night. He wants to make sure you're okay, but he also knows that Sky is perfectly capable of being there for you should you want it.

...And he says 'want', because goddesses know you definitely need it.

"...You feel like eatin'?" he asks softly, voice remaining low as he leans a little closer. He sighs again when he hears you mumble a weak "Not really..."

"...Yeah, I figured..."

He sighs for what now has to be the eighteenth time. He wants you to eat; he knows you haven't all day, and it's past 5 PM now...

"...I know you don't want to, doll, but... could you at least take a little bite? For me? Pretty please?" he asks as sweetly as he can muster.

He hears you sigh, and for a split second he's worried he's pushed you too far; but to his pleasant surprise, you sit up, reaching for the plate.

Heh. Can't say no to me, can you lovebug?

He smiles; the way your hair's all messy and the tired look on your face makes you cute, but in a heart-breaking sort of way. He watches intently as you slowly pick up the fork, poking at the food; and his smile grows more as you finally take a bite.

He places his hand back on the top of your head. "Good pup," he chuckles softly, laughing a little more as you huff at him.

You must've finally realized you were hungry, because he sits in silence for several minutes as you manage to finish off a little more than half the plate.

"There you go," he says softly with a tender smile. "Feelin' a little better?"

You nod, setting the plate back on the nightstand and pulling the blanket back up to your shoulders.

"...You're free to go back to sleep if you want, darlin'. I just wanted to check up on you," he says, subconsciously leaning a little closer to your face as his hand drops to your shoulder. "...Do you want me to stay here, or should I leave?"

"You can stay..." you say softly. He's overjoyed at your response, grinning like a lovestruck dumbass (because he totally is. Not that he's admitting it or anything. Not at all.)

"...I can do that. But you're cuddlin' with me whether you like it or not, lovebug."

He laughs as you huff again, rolling your eyes this time. "Fine..."

His grin only grows, lying down and pulling you down with him. Gently, he pulls your head onto his chest, resting his hand on the top of your head as he noses your hair.

"See? I'm not so bad," he chuckles softly.

"I guess not..." you sigh, and he runs his finger through your hair.

"...Don't worry, sweet thing. Sometimes you just need someone else to take care of you when you can't do it yourself....

"...And I'll be that person if you'll just let me. Don't worry your pretty little head about a thing, darlin'. I'm here..." he says tenderly, stroking your hair.

He's so warm and his presence is so comforting, it's not long before you're on the verge of sleep again. A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest.

The last thing you note in your half-asleep state, is that you could've sworn you felt his lips on your forehead.

"Sleep, little lovebug. I'll be here when you wake up."

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Tagging friends so they see and maybe are proud of me lmao

@trippygalaxy @the-cucco-nuggie (you might like this one. I know how much you like hylian jacob black from twilight)

#bek's.fics #lu twilight #loz linked universe #linked universe x reader #linked universe #fluff #comfort

[gz-missfit]

With Tazercrafts stream ending I just have some thoughts about how their day will go. So here I go!

So it's obvious that Pac sits out on their balcony for a long time, he curls up on his blue chair and just watches the outside, feels the sun and breeze on his skin. Mike checks in on him often, hands him hot chocolate and a blanket once the sun starts setting. They don't talk much during the beginning, Mike being to worried to say something wrong and Pac still buried too deep in his own thoughts. It's not until the sun starts setting that the conversation flows again, it's about mundane dumb shit. Random facts, things they gotta plan to work on, layouts of rooms.

It feels like home again to both of them.

It's not until late at night does Mike decide they should probably move inside if they don't want to get sick and suffer from back pain because they fell asleep in their chairs. He really needs to get himself in check to help take care of Pac until he can stand on his own 2 feet again.

Pacs basically already half asleep during the elevator ride to the bottom of the lab, body falling limp against Mike who's holding him up with his arms so he doesn't knock into one of the walls. He's as exhausted as Pac is, but he needs to keep it together now, his stubbornness putting Pacs frail frame from a week of barely eating and drinking before his own neglected body and mind due to his focus on revenge while his other half was away.

As the both slowly make their ways down the stairs Mike notes the rough creaking of Pacs prosthetic, making a note to fix it first thing in the morning since it's most likely completely fucked by water damage and whatever injury the federation caused Pac while he was in captivity.

Mike's blood boils and his muscles tens at just the thought of it.

They reach the big currently still empty room before their separated ones, and Mike doesn't even hesitate when he leads Pac to his own. Pac was there for him and slept by his side when he was suffering after Walter Bob got kidnapped and nightmares plagued his nights. So he was making sure that Pac would have the same comfort, even if he's not as good as Pac is at this he wants to repay every act of kindness Pac has ever done for him a thousand times over.

He leads Pac to his own huge bed and moves the green covers, quickly detaching his leg with movements Mike remembered better than any other muscle memory, and covers his friend. As Mike walks around to the other side of the bad he hears Pacs shaky voice, he's mumbling while deep asleep and he can hear the self doubt. The fear of being abandoned. The set mind of having been left behind. The begging to be saved, to have the screams stop and Mike would lie of he said it didn't send a shiver down his spine.

He carefully wraps an arm across Pacs shoulder to pull his shaking friend close, pushing their heads together and Mike freezes when he feels something click. It's overwhelming and painful but he quickly realizes what just flooded his brain when he can make out each thought Pac has that fuel his nightmares, he smiles as tears prick at his eyes and he squeezes his friend tighter. Pushing all his energy into their connected minds to soothe at least some of the mental anguish Pac is carrying at the moment. It doesn't take long for both to fall into a deep sleep, exhaustion weighing their bones down.

And in a painfully ironic way of symbolism. If you compared this moment to the first night after the prison escape they would be the exact same.

Just that now Mike is set on taking care of Pac.

#qsmp #qsmp pac #qsmp mike #qsmp tazercraft #void mumbling

[hanasnx]

Hi Bittyyyyyy :D !!!! Your Han stuff has been killing me I love the way you write him, I think you get his energy down pat, a big ol' meanie who lovesss his pretty little girl EEEE. When I picture Han, it's always sitting in his lap, like he's just so large, takes up so much space, chronic man-spreadder, I've gotta be in his fucking lap kissing him all over or talking his ear off, or listening to him tell stories about his past adventures, literally anything. The thought of being in his lap drives me fucking crazy. You know me and my love of dirty talk, what kind of dirty talk do you think gets him going? What does he like to hear? -donnie

thank you for your compliments :) the reassurance is appreciated bcos like i said, i am an anakin blog. so han's voice is something i have to switch into and take time to embody before i can sit down and focus on writing for him. he rly is a big ol meanie who loves his pretty little girl <3

calling him a "chronic man-spreader" is so real. thats the only way he sits. sometimes he rests his ankle on his knee, but that's still spread. it's only cos he wants to rest his hand somewhere on his calf and his elbow on the back of his chair. a real open stance, for a real confident man.

the idea of you sitting in his lap, this large ass man (who "takes up so much space" as you said 😵‍💫) while you listen oh-so-intently. big eyes looking up at him while he tells you his stories, absentmindedly stroking your head and down your hair, sending you those tingles right up your neck. his fingers catch on the last bits of your hair, closing in on them as his fingertips brush your back. then he starts all over again, big hand palming the top of your head only to slide down.

he'd tell his exciting stories so nonchalantly. as if they're uninteresting now that he's lived them through, but they still have that punch to them to you.

the kind of dirty talk that he likes is actually pretty basic. if you're able to admit to him that you "want" him or "need" him, putting him in that position of power over you, he really likes that. sometimes it works, and he's wants to get going, all because you gave him a green light. but other times, he needs a little more. sacrifice yourself on the altar of humiliation. beg a bit. tell him you can't take another step without his help, his cock, be dramatic with it. be so exaggerated and hyperbolic all so he can say, "okay, okay," roll his eyes, "i get it, sweets. where do you want me?" making a big show of finally being worn down so he can suit your needs. he, himself, doesn't like to feel too desperate, so it's satisfying to see someone else do it. makes him feel desired, necessary. pride's important to him, so show him you don't care about your own.

if you talk a big game about exhibitionism he digs that. tell him you want him to fuck you in front of all these guys at the cantina. right on the bar. he'll say no, but he likes the idea. the fact you're willing to show your most sacred parts to strangers, all for him. all to prove you're willing for him. "c'mon, han. you know you want to. i want to. i know how much you like to show off. brag about me. boast about this pretty cunt by fucking it in front of everyone. that'll show 'em."

that'll most definitely earn you a: "get your little ass back on the falcon."

#indy: headcanons #ch: han #han solo headcanons #donnie #thanks for the msg!! #indy shoots the shit #cw size kink #x f!reader #reader insert #han #han solo smut #han solo prompt #han solo x reader #han solo x reader smut #han solo x f!reader smut #han solo x f!reader #han solo x you #han solo x you smut #star wars smut #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #han solo imagine #han solo fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #smut #anon #han solo fanfic #star wars x you #star wars x you smut

[underifran]

The Reflection of Us

Summary: Being in a relationship with an Idol was hard enough, you didn’t need the added stress of other women flirting with him. Good thing he knows you better than you know yourself.

Genre: Slight Angst, Smut, Fluff

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Warnings: Jealousy, Insecurity, Self Doubt

Word Count: 3.8k

A.N: I wrote this as a gift to my best friend, and now I’m spiraling into wanted to make 100 more.

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These celebrity parties normally never bothered me. I was used to smiling and just nodding my head as big name idols rambled to me about a lifestyle I completely didn't understand. But that was okay. I didn’t mind and often I enjoyed getting to know more about the life Hyunjin lived.

When we first started seeing each other two years ago, I made it clear that I didn’t want to share that type of lifestyle with him yet. I wanted something quieter, more romantic. But of course that only got to last a while, luckily we both knew it would happen. That Hyunjins relationship with me would get leaked. It was horrible at first, with fans sending death threats and him needing extra security. But now things have settled down and as my punishment I get to go to these parties.

Worse was that these were not just social events for the boys but also work. Which meant Hyunjin was off playing the politics of his life. And I was forced to listen as Changbin listed off all his reasons for getting the idols to play a baseball tournament.

“Oh come on, you have to see it right? All of us in those cute little outfits running around? The fans would eat out of our hands! Imagine how cute Hyunjinnie would look.”

“Bin, your fans would be too focused on how bad you all are to pay attention to the outfits.” I said while taking a sip of champagne. It was expensive and still tasted like shit.

“Where is your boyfriend, I need someone to team up with,” and with that he started whipping his head around to look for Hyunjin. I was completely unbothered by his antics so I just shook my head and looked down to check the time on my phone. But when I looked back I saw that his eyes had grown three sizes bigger. I followed Changbins gaze to the corner of the room where Hyunjin was sitting on a chair with two girls on each arm rest. They were giggling at something he said, and touching his shoulder flirtatiously.

Not here. Don't make a scene, anywhere but here.

As if he could feel the jealousy radiating off me, Changbin turned to me trying to diffuse the situation. “I’m sure he doesn’t even realize what they're doing.”

I took my glass of champagne and swished it down in one gulp. “No, maybe not, but I’m not sure that makes it any better.”

I couldn’t stop myself from staring at them. The way both girls would lean into his sides. It was driving me crazy. It made me even more sick when I saw Hyunjin look up and smile at one of them. What kind of game was he playing? Did he want cheating rumors to start, because this is exactly how you get into that kind of scandal. Or maybe he just genuinely enjoyed the attention. The thought he was enjoying himself started a deep burning in my chest and before I knew it my vision was blurring.

Sometimes it felt like Hyunjin knew something was wrong when he shouldn't. There have been too many days after work where I couldn’t find the energy to make an effort, and before I could even tell him, he’d be calling me. Telling me how much he loves me, and that no matter what he’d be there for me. That sixth sense he had, must have been the reason his brows scrunched and he looked up to meet my glare.

There was no way from that distance he could have seen me on the verge of crying. But I guess from my deep set frown he knew something was wrong. He started to get up but one of the girls started pouting, put a hand on his chest and pulled him back into the chair. I saw him say something to the girl but then the other put her hand on his thigh. Way too high for it to be innocent. And that was enough for me. I wasn’t going to sit here and watch my boyfriend get felt up.

“Hey Bin, can I take your dorm key? I left my car keys there and I’m not feeling too well.” I let the lie slip out even though I knew he was going to call my bluff.

“It’s pretty cold outside, do you want me to call you a taxi?”

“No really, I’d rather walk. Give me a chance to ease my stomach.” He gave me a sympathetic look before digging into his pockets to retrieve a key. He dropped it in my hand before walking off in the direction of Chan and Felix.

I didn’t waste any more time, and rushed to grab my coat and head for the doors. The air outside instantly nipped at my nose and cheeks. Changbin wasn’t kidding, it was unbearably cold. But the temperature was helping cool down the fire burning inside of me. Every time I thought of her fingers grazing his thigh it ignited stronger. Why didn’t he stop them? Was he really enjoying it like I thought? I know that he’s surrounded by beautiful idols every day but never once have I ever felt insecure. Not until then at least. That definitely made me insecure, hyper aware of every flaw on my body.

Three quick beeps from my phone pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts.

From My Love <3

9:52 pm

Hey sweetheart, where did you go? I saw you one second and then you were gone.

9:52 pm

Please tell me you aren’t walking home.

9:53 pm

Changbin told me you left and then called me an idiot…? Did I do something????

I didn’t have the energy for it. I just wanted to get back to my apartment and sleep. I clicked my phone off and instantly another text came through

From My Love <3

9:54 pm

I know you saw those. You’re making me anxious. Can you please tell me what’s going on baby? I can’t leave for a bit more, will you at least let me know you’re okay?

A petty thought came to me, one that I knew wasn’t right but I wanted to hurt him like how I felt hurt. If he was fine with having two random girls flirt with him all night, then he would be perfectly fine not knowing if I was okay or not. Imagining him panicking over me made me feel a little better, which also made me feel insanely guilty. Whatever, he could handle one night of worrying about me.

The rest of the walk didn’t feel real. I couldn’t recall a single thing from my walk, only that my insides were too numb for me to register any of the numbing on the outside. But when I walked into the dorm building, my ears started to hurt from the cold. I really needed a shower, something to warm me up and calm me down.

It was rare that the dorms were this quiet. It was nice.

I figured I still had a good few hours before any of them came home, and Hyunjins shower had one of those waterfall heads that dropped soft water. I opened the door and turned on the water as hot as it would go. A smile crept onto my face as I thought about how Hyunjin has screamed and called me his demon in the past whenever I got in first. But that smile soon disappeared as the thought connected me to everything from tonight, and it hit me again like a train. A scream was threatening to spill past my lips but instead only a choked sob came out. I let my legs give out as I sat and nothing could stop the onslaught of tears.

What was wrong with me? Was I not enough for him? Did he want something more than what I could give? I couldn’t compete with those girls, who am I even kidding. Maybe it would be easier on everyone if he dated someone from the celebrity world. He shouldn’t even be with someone like me. I should take some space from him.

The waves of thoughts were exhausting me more and more. I needed to get home. Sleep would bring clarity, surely it would.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, the steam shrouded around me. Looking up from the ground, I was met with the red and puffy eyes of Hyunjin. I nearly screamed, not expecting anyone home, and feeling all too vulnerable in only a towel.

“He told me you left because of me…” he started but trailed off when he had to wipe away a few stray tears. It took everything in me not to caress his pretty face.

“Yeah...”

He just nodded, and sat looking even more devastated. I couldn’t handle it, I needed him to leave or I was going to lose my resolve. “Please, can you get out? I need to get dressed.”

“Since when have you ever been shy about your body with me?”

”Since now Hyunjin.”

“B-but I’ve literally painted your naked body before. I’ve stared at it for hours. Thirty seconds of changing is nothing compared to that.”

I’m not sure why it upset me, but it did. “Mmhm, and that was before I felt like I was competing with other women. Now I don't want you to see me naked.”

His eyes softened a bit but there were still more tears threatening to spill, and I absolutely hated how beautiful he looked with the added sparkle. “Baby… Is that what this is about? About Seoyun and Jiwoo?” So he knew them? I didn’t know if that should have made it better or worse but I felt the familiar burn start in my chest. He shouldn’t have left, I didn't want him to follow me. Seoyun and Jiwoo would make better company.

“Hyun, please leave.”

“No.”

“Why are you being so difficult? Can’t you see you’ve upset me and I want to be alone?”

A small, exasperated giggle fell from his swollen lips. “I didn’t upset you. You got jealous.”

I rolled my eyes extra hard at that. “I don’t get jealous.”

“Then why did you leave the party so suddenly?”

“Because I felt sick.”

“Because you thought I was flirting back,” he said more as a statement rather than a question.

“No because watching you with them made me realize how terrible we look together!” It exploded out of me before I even had the chance to think. I regretted it immediately.

“Come here.”

“Hyun no I don’t—”

“Sweetheart. I said come here.”

He said it with such authority I felt like I had no choice but to listen. I let my legs carry me over to stand in front of him. But that wasn’t enough for him, he wanted, needed me closer. His hands came to my back, and pushed me to sit on top of his lap, straddling him.

My eyes were closed, I knew I couldn’t look at him. I felt his soft hands push a strand of my wet hair behind my ear and his hand lingered a bit longer, swiping at the remains of old tears.

“There is only you…” He whispered as his lips ghosted under my ears, “there will only ever be you.” I hated how easy it was for him to affect me. The evidence of goosebumps spread across my arms gave him the push he needed to keep going. “Look at me, my love.”

And I listened again. I opened my eyes and stared into his. He was searching for something, but I didn’t know what. I stayed quiet hoping he would continue so I didn’t have to reply. I knew if I opened my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to control what I said.

“When I have interactions with other women at parties like that, it means nothing to me. Truthfully it makes me quite annoyed but this is my life. I can’t risk coming across as rude even if I’m uncomfortable. I let them delve into their little fantasy because it’s easier. Seoyun and Jiwoo are the nieces of one of the big donors of JYP. My managers would have killed me if they said anything about bad manners.”

“It's not fair… I don’t want them to fantasize about you.”

A shit eating grin spread across his face when I said that. “You do realize what our fans fantasize about right?” God, I really hated him sometimes. I lightly slapped his shoulder and tried to push away from him, but his arms wrapped around my waist and wouldn’t let me move. I kept struggling to slip away and it was useless because his hold was concrete. “Hey don’t try to wiggle out of this!” He laughed and started kissing my neck. It instantly sent shockwaves through my body and my groans of displeasure turned into moans of contentment. I was embarrassed of how quickly the anger melted off of me.

The anger disappeared completely when I felt him harden in response to my moans.

“Hyunnie…”

“When I look at you love, I see art. It’s why you're the subject of most of my paintings. No flowers, oceans, or fields of green could compare to you. Those girls are nothing more than a business transaction. You are my muse, not them. There’s no reason to be jealous because you don’t belong in the same world as them.”

“Ah—No more, no more… I feel like I’m going to explode from too many emotions.”

“Then is it okay with you if I show you how beautiful we look together?”

I couldn’t do anything but nod my head weakly up and down. He moved me off his lap and walked over to his dresser before shoving it roughly in front of the bed. “Baby what are you—” I asked but I was met with a sly smile and a shushing sound, so I did nothing but sit there and watch as he moved his large full body mirror to lean on the dresser. Excited panic started to rush up my spine. Oh my god he wasn’t going to. Was he?

My question was answered quickly when Hyunjin came behind me and sat on his knees with me in between them. If the fandom knew him from one thing, it would be his cocky confidence. The way he was able to turn anyone into putty in his hands was a divine gift. One that he used often against me. I couldn’t help but blush as I realized what his intention was, so in order to take a chance to breathe I looked down and stared at the floor. But he wasn’t having any of that, and his beautiful fingers clenched my jaw and forced me to look him in the eyes through the mirror. All too soon he removed his fingers carefully as if to gauge if I’d try to look away. When he decided it was safe he pulled away fully and his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt.

When I thought earlier that Hyunjin shouldn’t be with someone like me, this is exactly what I meant. He was too pretty for his own good. As if he was made to be looked at. And I couldn’t look away. The way his brows scrunched in focus as he finished unbuttoning sent tingles to my thighs and I subconsciously pressed them together trying to ease the ache he was creating. After discarding the shirt on the floor he nimbly removed his pants, throwing them across the room.

“Now,” he started. “Look at how beautiful you are.” And he hovered over my hand that was desperately holding onto the towel. I gave in immediately and let him pull the towel down. We were both staring at each other through the glass. His eyes darkened and a hungry look took over his features. It was rare for Hyunjin to get this possessive, this dominant. Staring didn’t last long, he was getting impatient I could tell by the way he subtly arched his hips into my back. Suddenly, he pushed me down so my face was pressed against the bed and my ass was up, all of my intimate parts on full display to him. No matter how many times he saw me naked, I couldn’t help the blush that would paint my cheeks.

“I’m going to make you cum on my fingers, and you’re going to be a good princess and watch how pretty you are when you cum, okay love?”

“O-okay.” Was all I could stammer out before I saw him take the band around his wrist and throw his hair half up out of his eyes. Fuck, he was doing it on purpose. His eyes met mine again as he twirled a strand out of the pony tail and let it fall. He knew this hairstyle made me flustered. Whenever he did it at practice he would purposely send me a picture to tease me. And that’s what he was doing right now. That cheeky grin was back, and a groan slipped past my lips.

“Hyunnie, if you’re going to tease me all night, I’m going to go back to being mad at you,” I said.

“Oh? Is that so…” He trailed off and I felt those godly fingers slip between my folds. “You’re too wet to be mad at me sweetheart. You would dare leave.”

The feeling of his fingers dancing on me was making me dizzy and if I didn’t get more soon I was going to pass out. I started grinding myself back onto him. Thankfully he finally listened and those sweet fingers pushed inside me. He was slow at first, taking his time as he eased a second finger in. I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror and moaned at the sight. Hyunjin had one hand placed on my ass, and the other pumping in and out of me at a fast pace. The way he stared, captivated by me sent another shock to my brain and I could feel my orgasm bubbling.

“Fuck… God.. Ugh baby look at you. I’m going to cum just from looking at you. You wanna cum baby? You wanna cum on my fingers?”

“Yes, god please, please, please, yes.”

“Give it to me then baby. Cum for me.”

And as if his every word held some supernatural force over me I did. I screamed out his name as I came around those stupid fucking fingers.

“Did you see how pretty you looked, love?”

Oh fuck. “I’m sorry, it felt so good baby I closed my eyes.”

He tsked, and I felt him shed his underwear. “I guess I have to do it again then and make sure you’re watching huh?” This side of Hyunjin made me weak in every way. I felt drunk on the dominance he was feeding me. I loved taking the lead with him normally but I couldn’t lie to myself. It felt insane to let him use me however he wanted.

Before I knew it, I could feel him plunge himself into me in one slick thrust. The remains of the previous orgasm made it too easy for him to slide in. He let out a breathy moan and I snapped my eyes to the mirror to watch him. The image was so lewd. Hyunjin had both hands on my hips as he set a quick pace. I stared in awe as I watched him fuck me. Both of our moans joined together. He was right, we did look beautiful together. I nearly came when I saw him let out a light laugh and swipe his tongue over his teeth as he let out a vulgar moan.

Watching him was bringing me closer and closer to another orgasm.

“Mmm feel so good baby, I’m not gonna last much longer if you keep clenching me like that.” He said breathlessly.

He was fucking me at a ruthless pace now, chasing his own high as he took quick deep thrusts. I couldn’t take it anymore, it felt so good. I let my head rest on the bed and closed my eyes for only a moment.

“Nuh uh, we’re not doing that again,” he said as he reached forward and pulled my hair back towards him. The pain forced another loud moan out of me and it only encouraged him to go harder. I could tell he was closer from the way his eyebrows knit together and his thrusts became sloppy and greedy. He looked completely fucked out.

“Need you baby, need you to cum in me.” I managed to get out.

“Oh fuck…” and he fucked into me impossibly deeper. He still had a fist full of my hair forcing me to look in the mirror. I came instantly when I felt the warm jets of cum fill me, clenching around him in flutters.

He pulled me closer to his body and I felt the sticky sweat cling to my skin. His head was resting on my shoulder and I felt him watching me through the mirror, breathing heavily. I took a breath before I looked to meet his gaze.

“See? Beautiful. We belong together. You fit me like a puzzle piece.”

I felt a pang of guilt wash over me and quickly slid off of him and turned to sit in his lap.

“I’m so sorry I was so cold to you. I just got so insecure.”

“It’s okay sweetheart. I understand completely. But no more being a brat to me over jealousy okay? That’s my thing.” I couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was truly the best, and I couldn’t have asked for a more caring boyfriend.

“Yeah I’ll leave the dramatics and brattiness to you. I don’t wanna feel jealous ever again.”

“Really? Not even after I fucked the jealousy out of you?”

“Hyunjin!”

“What! It’s true.” He giggled. God I loved him. I never hated him. I pressed my lips to him and felt him melt into my touch.

“I love you.” I whispered.

“I love you too.” He replied.

His eyes looked at me so innocently and I felt that school girl crush creep up on me. What did I do to ever deserve him?

“You deserve me.”

“How did you even—“

“I told you, you are my muse, love. I know you better than you know yourself. Come on, let's get you cleaned up and go cuddle. I expect two hours of back rubs as an apology for thinking I’d ever choose anyone but you.”

And with that he stood and took my hand leading me back into the bathroom. A smile crept onto my face and I thought about how beautiful we looked together. I felt all of the worry melt off of me and something warmer, softer spread throughout my body.

#hyunjin #straykidz #stray kids #light angst #smut #fluff #hwang hyunjin #skz x reader #skz #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz fanfic

[starlightshadowsworld]

You don't know what I'd do (for you) Part 3

Part 2 Part 1 and the Prequel, Me and the Devil (Walking side by side)

Part 4

(tw for panic attack and well Atsushi survives what should've been his death and thinks he shouldn't have.)

Atsushi knew something was wrong when he gained awareness and could hear beeping. It sounded familiar but he couldn't place exactly what it was.

But that was beside the point, unless the afterlife was in fact taking place on one busy motorway, Atsushi shouldn't be hearing any beeping.

Perhaps it was Fyodor in acting his vengeance from beyond the grave. Atsushi had died while pissing him off and now he would never know peace again.

It definitely felt like the kind of petty shit the Demon would do. But if that was the case, Atsushi's eyes wouldn't be closed now would they?

When Atsushi opened his eyes he expected many things. The two most constant companions in his life, pain and his cage.

He found neither.

Atsushi wasn't in the cage, wasn't in the cell in Fyodor's base. He was laying in a bed in Yosano's infirmary. He should know, he'd been in here more than most.

But that didn't make any sense?

Was he seeing things again?

But that didn't explain why the blanket felt so soft against his skin. His body was heavy, like it was made of lead. All his energy was drained.

But this wasn't like earlier, when he'd been unable to move because of injuries and restraints.

Maybe he was losing it, again and his brain was trying to trick him into thinking he was safe. It didn't sound like his brain but Dazai had been in his cell.

And was currently sat in the corner of this room, so maybe?

'... Wait what?' Atsushi blinked in suprise, looking to the corner of the room. And sure enough, there was his mentor.

Dazai was sitting in a chair reading his Complete Guide to Suicide book. But even from here Atsushi could tell he wasn't paying attention to it.

But that only begged the question, what was Dazai doing here? He'd seen Dazai before, a trick by his drug filled brain when he was scared. So why was Dazai here now?

"Idiot boy" Atsushi flinched, looking away from Dazai to the familiar face of the Headmaster.

The man's face was twisted in its eternal frown, an anger in his eyes that persisted even now. "You can't even put it together can you? You're so pathetic, you couldn't even die properly."

Atsushi froze.

... No...

It was at that moment Atsushi's gaze lowered to look at himself.

He felt his heart stop as the pieces fell into place. He was connected to a heart monitor, that was what was making the beeps.

He wasn't imagining this, was he? Atsushi really was in the Agency's infirmary.

'... But that's impossible..' Thought Atsushi, eyes widening in terror. If he was in the Agency, that means he'd been found.

It means he survived.

Atsushi thought back to earlier, to the moment Fyodor learned the truth.

How Fyodor's frown turned into an amused chuckle. "I see, you never planned on giving me the book after all." Atsushi glared back at him in defiance. "You won't have it. Not you, not anyone else."

The Demon had stood before Atsushi, and clapped for him. "You really are you're mentors protege, aren't you?" Fyodor smirked at him, cold and unwavering.

"The Cannabalism ability may be beyond my reach now... But I have ways of making you give me what I want."

His eyes shone with mirth. "And I assure you, I don't need you alive for it."

That's where Fyodor was wrong. He'd miscalculated and it took everything Atsushi had to keep a straight face.

He couldn't give anything away, and he hadn't. No matter how much pain Fyodor's clown inflicted upon him. Atsushi had bit his lip down so hard but even he couldn't silence his screams.

Something the clown seemed to take amusement with, as did Fyodor himself.

But never did Atsushi beg for his life. Never did Atsushi beg for for the pain to the stop. He didn't at the Orphanage and he wouldn't now.

And never did Atsushi reveal that Fyodor was wrong. That after everything with Shibusawa, the tiger couldn't be seperated from Atsushi because it is him.

Not even in death could seperate them, but Fyodor didn't know that. Atsushi would die and the key to finding the book would die with him.

... But Atsushi was alive...

That had not been part of the plan. Atsushi wasn't supposed to survive. He wasn't supposed to be here.

Atsushi surviving meant that that the book could still be found. It meant that now Fyodor would go after Atsushi personally and his friends would be caught in the crossfire.

He couldn't breathe. He felt like he was going to explode. That his heart was going to burst out of his ribcage. How could he have been so stupid.

"Atsushi!"

The heart monitor was blaring now, having translated his panic for all the world to hear. Dazai was at his side in an instant. The delight at seeing his mentee awake fading into concern.

Dazai supposed it made sense for Atsushi to wake up in a panic, given how they found him. But it didn't make it any better, at least with this he knew how to help.

"Hey Atsushi" Dazai smiles softly at him like Atsushi world wasn't imploding around them. He took in deep breathes in and out and motioned for Atsushi to copy "In and out, you see that?" Atsushi slowly began to copy Dazai, calming down.

Dazai smiled, encouragingly. "There you go, in and out. You're okay, you're safe now." That appeared to be the wrong thing to say as Atsushi shook his head, his eyes blurry with tears.

"I'm not..." Dazai softened, gently running a hand through his hair. "You are, you're here at the Agency. No one can hurt you here." He grins "they'll have to get through all of us."

Dazai wasn't kidding about that either. Kenji was guarding the door with a sullen face and a stop sign. If anyone tried to hurt Atsushi, they'd be spending a lot of time in the hospital.

And if somehow they got past Kenji... Well... Good luck.

Atsushi shook his head again. "Not supposed to be..." He whispered but Dazai hears him clearly. Dazai blinked in suprise, frowning. "What do you mean, Atsushi?"

Atsushi hates that he wants nothing more than to curl up in Dazai's arms and sob.

He hates that his mentor is being so kind to him like Atsushi hasn't ruined everything. Everyone was in danger because of him, why was he being so kind?

It made Atsushi want to scream.

"You shouldn't have come... You shouldn't have come, I was supposed to die." He looks Dazai in the eye, eyes wide in panic and terror begging him to understand.

"You should have left me to die."

Dazai feels like his heart stopped. Sure he remembered Ranpo and Akutugawa saying Atsushi planned a one way trip... But to hear it from him.

He'd failed him. How could he have let Atsushi fall so far? 'I'm going to fix this, if it's the last thing I do.' He thinks, before pulling Atsushi into a hug.

Atsushi freezes, knowing he should wiggle out of it. But he's exhausted, he's scared and Dazai is here... He's really here and there's no small part of Atsushi that isn't so happy to see him.

"Atsushi, I want you to listen to me closely. If I get anything wrong, correct me, okay?" Asks Dazai, his voice light and soft. He waits until Atsushi gives him a small nod before continuing.

"I think you've set yourself up on an impossible task trying to save everyone. And gotten yourself tangled up and scared." He gently runs a hand through Atsushi's hair as he speaks.

"And I know why you did it, but I really wish you didn't. I know you want to take this all on your own. That you blame yourself, but this not a burden you can bare alone. And I'm sorry Atsushi but I've gotten rather attached to you. None of us want to lose you."

And wasn't that the truth, Dazai lost Atsushi for all of a second when his heart stopped. He had Atsushi's bloody hand print on his face, his mentee's last words being to comfort him.

Dazai wasn't going to lose him again.

"Can you let us save you now?"

Atsushi wants to refuse, because he knows it has to be him. He's the guide, he's the one Fyodor's after all. But Atsushi doesn't want to go back there. He's tired, so so tired...And he's drowning but Dazai's here.

He was dying and Dazai, he realises now that Dazai was real. He had saved him abs Atsushi had felt so relieved to see him.

He didn't want to do this alone.

"Okay" Says Atsushi, looking up to face Dazai. His mentor smiles at him, genuinely and kindly. "Good, and I promise you that Fyodor isn't going to get anywhere near you again."

Redemption arc be damned. Dazai would murder that man himself if he ever got near Atsushi.

And somehow that's enough for the tears, the fear and everything else Atsushi's been bottling up since this whole ordeal started, to crumble.

He was safe.

He was safe in the Agency and Dazai was holding him. He wasn't dying, he didn't need too...He was gonna be okay.

And every time Dazai ruffled his hair Atsushi was reminded this was real.

#long post #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bsd