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evie-sturns · 2 months ago

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cold - Chris Sturniolo

summary: when chris gets sick he makes it seem like the world is ending, he builds up an attitude, and worst of all is annoyingly clingy and touchy…

contains: fluff, sick!chris, crying, sensitive!chris.

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9:32am

i roll over in bed, slowly starting to wake up.

i feel chris sit up in bed beside me with a small groan.

i suddenly hear a deafeningly loud crunch cough coming from him.

uh oh.

i slowly open my eyes and look up at chris, who’s now sat up against the headboard.

chris looks like an absolute mess, his eyes are glassy and puffy, his nose and the skin around his nose is a raw pink, his lips are puffy, and he’s more pale then usual.

“good morning..” i whisper groggily,

he mumbles a vague ‘response’,

“you feeling okay?” i ask,

“no! i’ve got a ‘fuckin cold.” chris whines, wiping his face with a hand.

this is going to be a looooong day.

“oh baby, i’m sorry.” i whisper,

i sit up on the mattress to face chris.

he looks at me with pouty lips, i give him a small smile as i stand up out of bed.

he instantly grabs for me with his large hands,

he gets a firm grip on my arms and gently pulls me back down into bed, right beside him.

he rolls over on top of me,

now i’m his personal mattress.

he buries his face into my shoulder, letting out a loud sniffle.

“do you want some tissues?” i ask softly, knowing he’s gotta be sensitive right now.

he shakes his head, “i’m not a pussy.” he mumbles.

i laugh slightly, “blowing a snotty nose doesn’t make you any less of a man.”

“yes it does!” he mumbles,

i giggle, rubbing his back.

i press a kiss to his cheek,

he rolls off of me and sits up on the bed beside me, he looks down at me before letting out a loud cough.

“did that have to be right in my face?” i ask, shaking my head slightly.

“don’t be mean.” he mutters, his bottom lip sticks out slightly.

“i’m not being mean.” i laugh.

“no you’re laughing at me and- and-!” he starts,

i press a finger to his lips,

“let’s get you some pills okay? gotta get ya feeling better as fast as possible.” i whisper, stroking the back of his hair.

he whines in response,

i stand up off the bed, before walking over to my bathroom.

chris stands up and follows me into the bathroom, his hair dishevelled.

i open the bathroom drawers and pull out panadol, along with various other medications for his cold.

“i know you’re not good with pills but it’ll make you feel better.” i speak softly, placing the pills in his hands.

“i dont want it.” he says, his voice is croaky and hoarse.

“i know but it’s gonna make you feel all better!” i smile,

chris coughs again, this time into his hand.

i cock my head to the side at him,

he shakes his head, “no- ‘m not having this.” he whines.

“chris..” i sigh, grabbing his hand and walking him out of the bathroom.

i take him down to the kitchen and grab him a bottle of water,

“i want pepsi please.” he groans, throwing his head back,

“you can have a pepsi once you’ve took your pills.” i whisper,

he finally gives in, placing the pills on his tongue and slugging down a quarter of the water bottle

“there we go!” i smile,

he gives me a small pout, “my throat hurts.”

i walk him over to the couch and lay down, he flops down ontop of me.

he buries his face into my chest a small whine escaping his throat.

he uses me as a personal mattress once again.

“you are such a baby.” i tease with a small laugh, but he seems to take it extra personal

“stop!” he whines,

i giggle,

“stop ‘laughin at me.” he speaks into my chest, his voice breaking.

i rub his back with a small laugh,

“you okay sweetie?” i ask, gently scratching his back.

he shakes his head, a small hiccup escaping his throat.

“hey- hey you okay?” i ask, sitting up against the couch arm.

he keeps his face buried in my shirt,

his body shakes lightly,

a small sob escapes his lips,

“oh chris,” i sigh, “can you look at me please?” i ask softly.

he gently tilts his head up and locks eyes with me,

“what’s got you so upset?” i ask, rubbing his cheek.

“i feel sick.” he croaks out,

“and- and my tummy hurts.” he says with a small sob,

“awh chris.” i say with a sad smile,

“i promise your meds will kick in soon.” i whisper,

chris fiddles with the bracelet on my wrists, twisting the chain through his fingers.

his other hand clutches my shirt, he wipes his nose on it.

“oh-“ i sigh,

“you sure you don’t want a tissue?” i ask with a small giggle.

he looks down at the wet patch on my shirt,

“sorry.” he sniffs, his voice is small and his lips are all puffy.

“i’ll let it slide cause you’re sick.” i grin,

“thanks you.” he whisper,

he scoots up my chest and buries his face into the crook of my neck,

“love you.” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“i love you too, big baby.” i smile,

“i’m not a big baby-“ he starts, he instantly cuts himself off with a loud cough in my face.

“oh my god chris.”

——

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#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 8 months ago

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1.8k / 22 / soap soulmate au, part 3

…

Oh, shit, Ghost thinks. What the hell did you just do?

Ghost stumbles out in the road, looking after you in shock. You just... jumped out. In handcuffs. There's no way you think you can make it anywhere like--

Oh, double shit. You're running right for the cliffs in the distance. Looks like you might make it, too. That ain't good. Morally justified or not, he's still the criminal here. If you get to rough terrain and he loses you by car and on foot, you’ll go for help, and his squad won’t stand a chance.

He swears, grabs his pistol, and points it at your back.

He has a clear shot. He's sniped easier targets.

… He sighs and lowers his gun. Johnny, you owe me one.

…

You've got a good head start on him, but when he eventually catches up, he's going to be pissed.

Your ankle and hand sting from your rough landing. Adrenaline pumping, heart racing--you've got to get to those cliffs, and fast.

Behind you, the engine roars closer. Wheels crunch over gravel. He’s catching up. But the cliffs are right there. A river snakes through the rocky terrain. If you can just throw yourself across the water, you can make it. You can lose him on foot.

You pump your legs as fast as you can. The wind burns in your lungs. Keep moving. Just a few more seconds before you reach the water.

You’re so focused on the water that your foot lands wrong between river rocks and your ankle twists. You keep going, gait lopsided. You can’t stop. Once he catches up, you’re either a hostage again or you’re dead. But first, he's gotta catch up, get out of the car, open the door, grab his gun, sprint after you--

Then his car swings around you, pulling what should be an impossible drift over the rocks, one tire scattering river water into the air. You skid to a stop, making a break for the cliffs instead. There's a waterfall. You might make it if you jump--

Then Ghost is on you, a blur from the open car door to the edge of the rocks. He grabs you almost out of the air. You land stomach-first on the ground. You grunt, windless, gasping for air. Pain surges through your body. Fuck, that hurt. The rocks are harder than the grass was. You see stars.

Then you start to realize the position you're in. Your hands are still cuffed in front of you--over your head, now--and he's got his knee on your back. He's holding you down with all his weight, the barrel of his pistol pressed between your shoulders as he grits his teeth.

"Stay. Down," he growls.

He's not gentle. It'd be inconvenient to kill you, but you're really testing his sense of pragmatism. You're making him expend a hell of a lot of effort to keep you alive--jumping off a cliff, fucking seriously?--so he doesn't owe you any extra effort toward keeping you comfortable. Quite the opposite.

You shift your pained body under his knee, groaning into the sharp river rocks cradling your face.

"I said stay down," he growls, grinding his knee down against your back. You feel every individual sharp rock pressing into your skin. "I will hurt you.”

Normally he doesn’t give warnings like this, but he figures he owes it to Johnny to keep your stupid pretty face intact. As much as he wants to put a dent in it right now. And if you keep acting all resourceful…

You keep still, trying to catch your breath. Your hands curl around the river rocks and feel around for something loose and sharp. No such luck.

He grabs your shoulder with one hand to keep you still. His knee moves off your back for a second. You realize he’s trying to get a better look at the soulmate mark on your neck.

"Got to be another John MacTavish somewhere in the world," he mutters. "Bloody common name."

He grips the back of your vest and hauls you to your feet, practically scruffing you as he drags you back to the car. He growls something under his breath along the lines of irritating little shits finding each other.

Back in the car, Ghost’s phone rings again. This time, he glances back at you and switches his phone to his non-dominant hand. He picks up his pistol with his other hand and steers with his knee.

“Ghost,” he answers. This time, the reply has him shifting in his seat. “Negative. Didn’t see her.” Another long pause. The voice on the other end is louder and more animated than the one before. “I told you I’d look, and I did. Wherever she is, she’s fine.” The reply is clipped. “The captain told you not to go looking. Chrissake, Johnny, you’re not hanging out at base looking for a date. You’re a wanted criminal. Have a crumb of self-preservation.” Another long reply, this one rising in volume. “I know. Yes. I hear you. I know— Johnny—”

He goes quiet for a long while, uttering single-syllable responses occasionally. You can’t hear Johnny’s words, but you do hear his tone of voice. He doesn't sound happy.

“If the captain tells you to stay put, you stay put. End of story.”

You glance at the rear-view mirror again. Ghost is looking back like this is somehow on you. The sour face of a man getting chewed out.

Ghost and Johnny go back and forth until Ghost finally seems to tire of it. "No, not right now," he says. "I told you what I know. I’ll call you back."

Johnny curses from the other line right as Ghost hangs up.

Your fingertips are still tingling from the sound of Johnny’s voice, even at a distance, even over the phone. Maybe from the cuffs, too.

You don’t miss the irritated look on Ghost's face. "You in trouble?" you ask.

Ghost doesn’t hold your gaze. "He's a little pissed off, yeah."

After that, you don't speak for a long time. Your whole body hurts, and the adrenaline and sheer length of this day are taking a toll. Your eyelids sag. But every time you drift into sleep, you see Johnny's face again and jerk awake. It's torture. You don't have the mental fortitude to block him out anymore. You’re terrified that wherever Ghost is taking you, Johnny will be there.

You lean your forehead on the window, squeezing your eyes shut. "So..."

"What." There's no venom behind the response this time. He doesn't bother looking at you. But he's listening.

It takes longer than you'd like to work the words you're trying to form out of your throat. "John is still in one piece?”

He keeps driving in silence for a moment. You can almost hear his brain ticking as he considers. There's a tenseness behind him, a tension that's wound up and ready to snap.

"Yeah. Got a few holes in him, but it takes more than that to keep him down. Stubborn bastard." Another long, heavy silence. His hands grip the wheel, and he glares ahead. "Got a problem with that?"

"I'm not sure."

"You got issues with Johnny, you tell me. Got enough problems without you being all coy."

“Do you, uh, have a soulmate?”

Christ, he hopes you're kidding. He can only take so much of this from Johnny, and now you? Obviously Johnny hasn’t stoppedtalking about you. Can’t stop talking about what a pretty thing you are. Face like a muse, he keeps saying. Bastard described you in so much detail that, when Ghost was surveying the Las Almas base, you popped out like a neon sign the moment his sniper scope swept over you. He could've grabbed any damn Shadow, but no, he decided to do Johnny a favor and grab you. Now he can't bloody shoot you no matter how much you deserve it. Lucky Johnny’s not here to see what a bloody mess you’ve made of yourself under his watch. Not that he tells you any of that. Best to keep Johnny in the dark until they get the information they need out of you.

"You're a hostage," he says. "Act like it. And Johnny's off the table."

That’s a relief. You dread the thought of looking Johnny in the eye and trying to figure out how to make excuses for almost killing him. You can only hope to delay it as long as possible.

…

It turns out the "base" Ghost spoke of is a shed in the middle of nowhere. A barn at best—from the outside, but from the inside, it’s huge. You recognize a few members of the Mexican Special Forces, also your former allies before your company betrayed them on Shepherd’s orders. Rodolfo in particular gives you a hard stare as Ghost drags you past him and into a much smaller room. It's a weapons closet converted into a makeshift interrogation room. He pushes you down into the chair hard by the shoulder. You lean on the table, flexing your sore wrists behind you and wishing you could just put your head down and sleep.

He keeps a close eye on you once you're down. You show no clear desire to run again and no more than a passing interest in the impressive spread of rifles and launchers on the walls. You’re in the heart of an enemy safehouse. Even if you managed to grab a gun and escape this room, every other person outside wants you dead. You’re almost glad Ghost locks the door. At least there’s a barrier between you and them.

In the dim light, Ghost notes the bruise on your cheek and the scabbed-over cuts and gashes littered over your exposed skin. Your forehead sports a nasty, wet-looking burgundy splotch where your head hit the ground after he tackled you. You look about as defenseless as a wounded rabbit. If he weren’t busy trying to keep you from escaping as a hostage, he’d probably feel bad about hurting a friend's soulmate.

He's not his most charming self here.

"Stay awake, now," he warns you.

The overhead light clicks on. Ghost stands across from you, but the person standing by the light switch is Captain fucking Price. He stares at you, his hard gaze boring into the soulmate mark on your neck.

Then he smiles. "Good find, Ghost," he says. "This is the one. Guess Soap wasn't lying."

…

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

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hairmetal666 · 1 year ago

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Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.

For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.

He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.

The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.

It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"

In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."

Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.

Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.

Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.

Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.

They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."

How can Eddie say no?

Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.

The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.

The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.

It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.

He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.

Eddie needs a break.

He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.

His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.

The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.

It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.

The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.

His eyes meet Steve's.

Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.

Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.

They're nothing to each other.

Never were.

By popular request: Part Two

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #oneshot #ficlet #angst #no happy ending #august #summer romance #heartbreak #mutual pining #based on a taylor swift song #i probably went overboard with the references to the lyrics #i'm not sorry #it's about the longing #august slipped away into a moment in time #whatever you do don't think about how the next time they see each other is Eddie pinning Steve to the wall in the boat house

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darlingdreadwrites · 1 month ago

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I love reading your works!! I'm really curious to what you would think of EJ with a darling, except that instead of her being a final girl he walks in on her accidentally killing someone? I apologize if this is weird!!

don't ever apologize for making a request, i live for them. i hope you enjoy!!

pairing: Eyeless Jack x GN!Reader

summary: Jack is hungry, and you seem like the perfect target while you're hiking all alone. When he sees that you're in trouble, the small part of humanity he has left keeps him at bay.

contains: jack finds you yummy, sweet and gentle jack, he helps you

warnings: jack literally wants to eat you, cannibalism, gore but not really

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Hunger gnawed at Jack’s insides and the world was a blur of heat signatures and sound. He hadn’t eaten in days, and he was starting to lose control of his senses. But Jack had spotted you hours ago, picking up on your soft footsteps against the forest floor. Your heartbeat was steady, and you were unaware of his presence. Easy prey. He wasn’t exactly thrilled, but a man’s gotta eat, right?

He would treat you right – take you out immediately before he sunk his teeth into your plump flesh. His mouth watered at the thought before the taste of tar and blood forced him to control himself. Jack wasn’t one to kill impulsively, but he was very close to doing so. He couldn’t believe he would let himself get this hungry – it was too careless and messy. He preferred to take his time and cause as little problems as possible. Which was ironic for a cannibalistic demon.

Your warmth invited him like a lighthouse, and he was your ship; lost in his sea of hunger. He liked your scent; he had never smelled anything like it. Despite being a few good feet away, he could smell, hear, and taste you like he was inside of you. He’d be disgusted with himself if he wasn’t so hungry. He could barely think past the pulsing pain in his stomach.

Every breath he took was all you – your blood, your flesh. That’s all he saw you as: meat, pulsing with life. He wanted so badly for you to fill the tastebuds of his tongues with your sweet flavor. And he could tell that you would be sweet. He felt almost guilty for letting such a nice meal go to waste so quickly. Maybe he would have enough self-control to save pieces of you for later –

Shit. He lost track of you.

Jack seems to have gotten clouded by his hunger. He stilled, attempting to locate the faint beating of your heartbeat again behind all the trees and rocks. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to a pulse of sound and pinpointing your location. But he didn’t need to.

A scream tore through the woods – loud and sharp. His instincts snapped back, and he was grounded in an instant. He rushed toward the sound, his heavy boots snapping twigs in half and crunching leaves underfoot. Were you hurt? Did someone get to you before him? He growls, using that to bounce off his surroundings in case the screaming doesn’t take him directly to you. He slows when the echo comes back to him faster. Found you.

He stays hidden in the trees and focuses on the heat that emitted from you. Oh. There was someone else - you were standing near someone else. He could smell the man, lying motionless. The vibrant hues of red and orange clung to the life pulsing from the bodies. Well, at least you were pulsing with life. Your figure was warm while you stood over the duller, fading heat of the other. The blood that oozes out of him makes Jack’s head spin.

He could tell you were tense, your heat shifting in jagged bursts of breaths. You were right within his reach and vulnerable, but he stayed hidden. He hadn’t thought of you as a killer – you certainly didn’t look it. And, with the way that you shook, he guessed he was right.

He should leave you to deal with that on your own, he thought. It’s not his problem. However, his hunger pulled him to step closer to you. He tried to be as quiet as possible, but you quickly turned around to face him. You were breathing fast, and your heat pulsated strongly from your face and your hands. You were scared of him – of course, you would be. You had just committed murder, and a tall, masked man walked out of the shadows. He wasn’t exactly a pretty sight.

Even without eyes, he could tell that you were shocked, but ready to fight if he got too close. He could feel in his bones the electric blend of fear and instinct you felt. Jack could easily overpower you, but he caught the scent of something. Your blood: you were hurt. A foreign feeling bloomed in his chest. His curiosity was piqued, and he felt a rare sense of concern.

Jack isn’t a stranger to tending to people’s wounds, but he had never cared this much about a potential victim before.

You’re frozen as you stare at the man in front of you. Not only had you been attacked and consequentially killed someone, but now you were faced with another challenge. He stood eerily still, wearing a featureless mask. The holes where his eyes would be were black voids, and they seemed to be leaking some type of black substance.

You stagger backwards when he reaches for his black leather crossbody bag. He stops immediately, and, slowly, raises his hand as a silent gesture of peace. You keep your guard up and watch as his other hand eases the bag over his head and onto the forest floor. He kneels beside it, and you’re confused. You are about to run when he speaks up.

“You’re hurt,” he says, pointing to your arm.

You look down, and sure enough, your sleeve is torn, with an angry streak of red running down it. You glance back at him as he pulls out what seems to be a medical kit. Was he..?

“Just here to help,” he reassures. “Nothing else.”

You hesitantly step toward him and drop to your knees – watching him closely. You’re sure this is all a dream. You’ll wake up in your room, having never stepped foot in these woods. You were never attacked, you never killed someone, and you weren’t getting treated by some man wearing a mask. But it all felt too real.

With gloved hands, he gently held your torn sleeve and inspected the gash. The two of you were quiet as he reached for a bottle of antiseptic and gauze. You wince as he dabs at your wound – it was a sharp, biting sting, but he was gentle. He works with a tenderness that surprises you as he cleans you up. He doesn’t speak, and the silence presses heavily onto you.

“I’m-I’m so… so sorry,” you stumble over your words and your lips tremble. “He came out of-out of nowhere – “

He shushes you, momentarily taking his attention away from your gash. “You don’t need to explain.”

His voice was firm, and it calmed you. After the wound is clean, he bandages your arm with care and secures it with medical tape. He starts to reach into his bag again and pulls out a hoodie, one of his spares. You’re surprised when he holds it up to you. He notices your hesitation and nods, urging you to take it. You do, and stand up, catching sight of the body you forgot was there.

“What do I do?” You stammer, feeling your pulse spike and nausea build. “Shouldn’t I be… turning myself in or..?”

“Don’t,” he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. You go home.”

The calming timbre of his voice was unnerving, yet grounding. His presence soothed you in a strange way. You want to protest – you knew what was right and what was wrong – murder was wrong. But he seemed to settle the panic in you with his semi-hushed tone. You let out a shaky breath and nod. For reasons you couldn’t name, you trusted him.

You cast one final glance at him over your shoulder as you leave. He just stares at you, and you wish you could know what he’s really feeling – what expression his face carried.

You’re unaware that Jack has silently thanked you for providing him with a free meal.

#eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack #jack nyras #eyeless jack fanfiction #eyeless jack creepypasta #creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta eyeless jack #creepypasta x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #creepypasta fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert

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ceilidho · 11 months ago

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exit, no entry wound joe bear graves x reader; part 1 (3.8k)

Local time at destination: 0500 hours.

And then the world rushes back to him like the culmination of a terrible dream.

Bear wakes up in another rosebush outside the front steps of the local library worse for wear. Blinking out of sleep-crusted eyes, shapes diverging in blurry unfocus before slipping back into material objects. A bench. A door. The thorny stems of roses already on their way out, already depetalling, the ground below covered in a thin layer of them. One petal even sticking to his cheek when he pulls himself off the ground, wincing at the branches that crunch around him, that tug against his skin and clothes.

His clothes smell of cheap liquor. Gin. Bourbon. It hurts to open his eyes, to sit up.

“Morning, sunshine,” someone says. He remembers hearing it in his dream too.

He looks to the source of his awakening, blanching when he notices the man staring at him.

Rip sits on the other side of the bushes on his haunches, looking deeply unimpressed. Hair slicked back for a change. “This what you get up to when I’m gone?”

Bear doesn’t respond. He struggles to his feet instead, hangover only just creeping in. Still drunk, to an extent. His knees threaten to buckle under him, forcing him to lay a hand flat on the wall to keep himself upright. One foot in front of the other. The walk home feels endless in the hour before dawn, hardly any light to guide him.

“Pretty pathetic shit, Bear,” the man says, trailing along behind him. Not quite mockingly, but bordering on it. “Getting piss drunk and passing out in a bush? Really? C’mon, man. You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

There’s no sense in responding, Bear knows that now. No sense in even turning around to look. One foot in front of the other. Stumbling home alone under the cloak of night, dawn just around the corner; terrified that one day he’ll have to see it—the sun coming over the mountains, over the horizon.

It’s been less than a year. He hasn’t yet made his amends with God. Forgiveness sits outside of him. Not quite the right time to let it in. Maybe that time passed a long time ago, a small aperture that shuttered closed at the approach of his eyes. He missed it sometime between killing a boy and losing his mind.

A man cannot hold himself up on the scaffolding of the world alone. There has to be something beneath him. There is no sense in repeating the horrors of the world back to him; he’s already lived them. He’s got something of a Midas touch for death.

The months have been long since the divorce was finalised, since Lena left for good, since Buckley died, since Rip—since it all went down. If he thinks about it for too long, it seems like a nightmare that he woke up from still mad about; a nightmare he had no choice but to drink himself into a stupor over to escape. That’s the reality of the world.

“You know, Bear, you’re not the one that’s fuckin’ dead,” Rip spits as he follows behind, matching Bear’s stumbling gait stride for stride. “So you can stop acting like it.”

There’s a truth in Rip’s words and it leaves him feeling nauseous. There’s also a kink in his neck and a headache threatening to split his forehead open. In the belly of him, he has a truth that says that the firmament of heaven is beyond his reach. When he looks up and the sky is void of coruscating light, the meagre stars like an exit with no entry wound, it doesn’t surprise him. Of course there wouldn’t be anything there.

On a good day, his heart feels like it’s weathered a siege.

“So she left you! It’s time to fuckin’ move on. Go to a bar—I mean, you already are, so step one done—and pick someone up. Go on Christian Mingle or something. You keep living your life like this and you’re going to wind up killing yourself. And then the fuck good that’ll do?”

It takes everything in him to not turn around and do something rash. Only the nausea keeps him from making any sudden movements. Even if he were to turn around and do something, his knees would probably buckle under him. Probably throw up the contents of his stomach. Not much in there either. It rumbles when he thinks that, clenching at the thought of food. Then it twists, the nausea returning.

One foot in front of the other. The walk home takes twice as long, his whole body aching.

“Heard you almost quit. Wouldn’t be the worst idea you ever had. Let Buddha take over—he’s earned it. Get yourself a nice piece of land in fuckin’…Montana or something. Couple cows, maybe some chicken—you could get a dog, Christ. You look like a guy who’d have a dog. Why don’t you have a dog, actually? You would’ve told me if you didn’t like dogs, so it’s not that.”

His forehead is greasy when he touches it to rub his head. Body secreting poison in his sleep. Oily. The corners of his lips crack when he yawns. It’s not like he’s never thought about a dog, about having something to care for, another living thing in his house.

But—

(“Bear? …I don’t think we should have a child.”)

What he wants often falls to the wayside, slides off him like a glancing blow.

Her old, familiar shape appears at the sudden loss of a dream: one where Lena’s gaze lingers on him long enough to burn; but then it is the sun.

Bear watches dawn break. Sunday morning. In a different life, he would’ve squinted into the light of a new day and closed his eyes against it, curling into the slighter body tucked into his chest for another hour of rest. Felt the rise and fall of her chest. Woken up to a hot mouth on his cock or fingers curling in his chest hair, petal lips seeking him out. Church after that, showering off the remnants of their morning, solemn in their pews with their chests still holding the laughter of an hour previous. Light as air, as a feather.

He won’t go to church today; hasn’t in months. Not with the guilt of missing it the week before trailing after him, each missed week compounding month after month. The cracks in his faith webbing. Splintering out like stepping on the lake when it freezes over in the winter, crunching under his boot until he holds his place. Conscious that it could break under his feet.

“I grew up with a dog,” Bear finally responds, voice hoarse. First thing he’s said since last call at the bar.

“Yeah. Figures. What kind?”

“Black lab. We called her Daisy.”

It’s another lifetime ago. Still living in his parent’s house, Daisy curled by his dad’s feet, her favourite spot to sleep. Television playing at a low volume, mom at the kitchen table doing her crossword, ink bleeding into the side of her hand. It’s been a long time since Bear buried all of them. He’s buried countless people since.

“What—can’t get another? One and done? That’s how everything works for you?”

Teeth raze across his skin again. Trust Rip to always cut to the quick. Finally back in his neighbourhood at least, the street empty apart from the cars parked in their driveways or along the sidewalk. Bear’s stomach rumbles something fierce now, entreating him to eat. Worse than hunger is how he’d kill for a glass of water though. Anything to settle his head.

“Haven’t wanted a dog,” Bear grumbles, then clears his throat.

“Yeah, you have,” Rip scoffs. Bear hears him kick a rock, sending it skidding across the asphalt.

“Fuck off.”

Heart silicified in his chest, composed of fossilised shells and rocks and bones. It feels heavy in his chest.

He turns down the street leading to his house.

“Gotta let someone else in, Bear. Girl, dog—whatever. You can’t keep this up forever or it’ll kill you.”

When he turns around at the door, fishing in his pocket for his keys, the sidewalk beyond his house is empty.

(So a man lies down and rises not again; till the heavens are no more he will not awake or be roused out of his sleep.)

Every Friday like clockwork, Bear stops at the diner down the street for a coffee and a slice of cherry pie before heading to the bar.

Today is like any other. He leaves the house with only his keys and wallet and walks the long twenty minutes to the diner. Every time he fights the urge to drive, but there has to be something holding him in place. A reason not to throw it all away.

It’s never completely empty when he shows up, but it’s never full either. His seat at the back of the room is open as usual, like they put up a sign before he comes ambling down the street that says Reserved for Joe Graves and then pluck it away before he opens the door. It’d be nice if that were the case. Nice to have something just for him for a change. The thought comes with its accompanying pang of shame. Desire is a dangerous thing; anything he’s ever wanted has come at him with sharpened teeth, clamping down on his leg and ripping through the flesh. Bear trap for old Bear.

He slides into the booth and waits for someone to notice him. Never bothers to flag someone down—if it’s ten minutes or even half an hour before he’s served, that’s fine by him.

“Hiya,” a clear voice says to his right, pulling him away from staring through the blinds out the window. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea?”

The face Bear turns to meet is pleasant, smiling. Wide and untroubled. It’s not a face he recognizes though, despite months coming to this diner and becoming familiar with the staff. If he had to guess, he’d bet she only started a few days ago, maybe a week at most. She still has the sparkle of someone who hasn’t had the goodness beaten out of them yet.

“Coffee,” he says, his own smile strained. “And a slice of pie.”

“Sure—we have key lime, blueberry, apple—”

“Cherry,” he interrupts, not letting her build steam. The wick in his chest burns too low for any conversation. The quick flicker of her brow makes the shame in his chest swell again. Forgive me sitting on his lips, unsaid. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I do this.

She nods and scurries off to the back, skirt swishing with her movements. Bear notices only because his eyes get stuck there, somewhere between the curves of her hips and the roundness of her ass. When he realizes where he’s let his mind wander, he pulls it back, flattening his lips into a hard line. Any sort of indulgence feels wrong, a taking that shouldn’t be taken. He hasn’t even begun to pay penance for all the damage he’s wrought.

It’s only on her way back that Bear notices the small bump protruding from under her apron. His mouth goes dry. When she reaches him again, he wordlessly accepts the cup of coffee and her reassurance that the pie will be out in just a minute. For a moment, he can hardly meet her gaze, eyes locked on the gentle curve of her belly, caught off guard in a way he hasn’t been in months.

The first thought with any clarity is, what is she doing working here? A crummy diner on a Friday night. Down the street from an even sleazier pub. His second thought is to look outside at the poorly lit stretch of road and think that this is no place for a pregnant woman to be alone. He recognizes each car in the parking lot save one, likely hers. Drove herself here with the expectation of driving herself home at the end of the night.

If it had been Lena—well, he never would’ve let it be Lena, but if it had been, Bear can’t imagine letting his pregnant wife drive herself home in the middle of the night. Can hardly stomach the thought.

She’s not Lena though, so he has no right.

She’s gone before he has time to say anything else, skirt swishing behind her. It catches his eye again. When he tears his gaze away for a second time, he swallows back the metallic taste of self-loathing. It curdles in his mouth. It’s the sign telling him to stop coveting, stop looking out into the world and wondering what he can take. It’s his hamartia, his fatal flaw; thinking himself above the reproach of God. Thinking that he can kill, fuck, curse, and stray farther and farther from the light only to find his way back in the dark.

The bell above the door rings when someone else comes in and Bear tenses. His shoulders only relax when two older women step in and head to a table.

He watches as she picks up a plate from the pass-through window and heads back towards him. When she places it in front of him, he draws a deep breath in, trying to catch more than just the aroma of fresh baked cherries.

“Here we go…one slice of cherry pie, straight out of the oven.”

“Thanks, honey,” Bear rumbles, smile finally meeting his eyes.

“No trouble. The guys in the back said they make it special for you. Joe, right?”

That gets him to levy her with the full weight of his attention. The thought of her asking about him. “I go by Bear.”

“Oh. Alright, Bear.” She twists the word around in her mouth and seems to find it satisfying. “I think I’ve heard your name before. You were—I mean, you’re part of Pastor Adams’ parish, right?”

He clears his throat, cutting off the triangle point of his pie with the side of his fork. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Me too,” she confides, voice a low whisper. A secret between strangers. She doesn’t glance around though, doesn’t bother to draw out the ruse. “Or, I was, anyway. Haven’t been to service in awhile. I, um…I remember you. From a year or so back. You and your—um…you and your wife used to always sit up at the front.”

The fork scrapes against the plate. “Ex-wife.”

He catches her wince from the corner of his eye. “Oh. Sorry. You just—” She doesn’t have to say it. The slight dip of her eyes tells him all he has to know, and besides, it’s his own fault for still wearing the ring. Even with the paperwork signed and dated, even with Lena in another state now, starting a new life without him, the thought of taking it off makes him break out in a cold sweat.

“It’s not—” Bear starts before giving up. He curls his fingers into a fist on the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine. Not a big deal.”

She fidgets in the silence. Bear can’t bring himself to break it or make the atmosphere less oppressive. He tenses under it, the ache in his low back worsening. These days, he always aches. Nerve damage, a disc on the verge of slipping, an old ankle injury that flares up whenever he goes running. A ghost that follows him from haunt to haunt. The ring on his finger is just another old ache.

“So, uh—” he clears his throat, nodding to her belly. “Your first?”

It’s inappropriate, hardly his place to ask. Incredibly intrusive for someone he’s met for the first time, a stranger just trying to do her job and serve him coffee and pie before he goes off to drink himself half to death again at the dive bar down the road.

Still, he asks.

Only the faintest wrinkle of her nose betrays any embarrassment. “Oh. Yeah. First one.”

“Congratulations.” It’s sincere. The envy in his gut is old, but it’s a manageable pain.

“Thanks,” she says, with a small, private smile, hand resting absently under her belly. “I’m excited. I’m only a couple months along, but, uh…it’s been a journey. Just me and baby against the world, you know.”

That stops him in his tracks. Screws up the whole course of his evening because suddenly the sound of the bell over the door jingling doesn’t draw his attention away. It stays fixed on the smiling girl to his right that just opened her mouth and said something unacceptable.

“Where’s the dad?” he asks, far too bluntly.

She shrugs. “Somewhere. Didn’t stick around long enough to tell me where. It’s fine though—I’ve got my little peanut. That’s all that matters.”

“You told him and he left?”

The pie sits cooling in front of Bear as a pit in his stomach opens up. It’s a terrible, empty hole that holds truths like the fallibility of the body and the good shouldering the burdens of the world.

He only regrets being so direct when her lip quivers, a little motion that betrays her until she wrests control over her face again. “It’s not his fault. I don’t think he was—well…you know, it was a surprise.”

“That’s—” he struggles to find his words, “—that’s not right.”

Again, she shrugs. “That’s life.”

Bear feels his eyes go hard. A coldness settles under his skin.

In the deep, dark gut of him, only anger lives. He spends his days questioning why God has allowed everything else in his life to fall apart, has allowed countless other people to die, but refuses, for reasons unbeknownst to him, to kill him. He’s given him enough opportunity and enough reason.

The answer he circles back to time and again is the same. An eye for an eye. Divine wrath. The litany of his sins could be sung until the end of time and there’d still be more to sing. It’s only right that there would be consequences for him.

The rage that simmers in his blood now is twofold. It begins with the sharp pang of injustice, of witnessing a punishment meted out to someone innocent. The girl standing by the booth he’s shoved himself into, almost too small for a man of his size, cannot be deserving of the same punishment that he’s brought upon himself. She has never killed. The babe in her belly has never killed. The two of them should never have to meet at the point of two paths converging with the likes of someone like Bear and proceed down the same road together.

Then it sinks into a familiar territory. A place at the core of him where righteousness gives way to envy, as it always does. After what he's been through, the thought of someone having everything that he's always desperately wanted handed to them on a silver platter and then sending it back leaves him feeling a bit off-kilter. Not quite right.

“Bear?” Her voice breaks the silence. When he blinks, concerned eyes stare down at him, brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he rasps, dragging a hand down his face. Shaking it off. “Sorry, I—got lost in my head. Sorry.”

“That’s alright,” she says, again gentle in her voice and smile. “Easy place to get lost in, isn’t it?”

He makes a sound in acknowledgment. Drags the silence out. Her mouth twists shy under his scrutiny.

“Anyway, I have a few other tables to get to, if you don’t mind. Enjoy your pie. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

He eats his slice of pie in silence as she leaves, eyes following her to her next table. Rage still sizzles under his fingertips. It makes his hands shake, old nerve damage and anger problems.

It’s like a gun punch to think of her all on her own. It’s not right. For someone like him, well, it’s—deserved, earned. Inevitable, even. Every step taking him further away from grace, from its light. No one who knows his story would think otherwise.

She’s a pretty thing though, this new waitress. Too tired, the bags under her eyes testament to that, no matter how well she hides them with makeup. Slightly puffy anyway, maybe from a lack of sleep or too many tears. His stomach aches at the thought. It must have come as a shock, the bottom of her world dropping out from under her when the baby’s father took off. Dragged away from the church not through her own doing, but the fault of another. Not her shame to bear, and yet.

He forces the pie down. Bites that taste like nothing,

Bear hears the lilt of her voice from two tables over. “Refill on your coffee, hun?”

A supplicant sits in his place as he sips his coffee. The hour slips by into the next and it starts to come together in his mind. Why he's been forced down this long road alone, why God hasn't struck him down yet despite every terrible thing he's done. His eyes follow her flit across the diner, the light seeming to bend around her like a halation.

When Bear looks across the room at her, he thinks, Lord, do not think I am waiting patiently for your hands. Every part of me trembles with anxiety.

(O Lord, show me I can fall apart together again; but not just yet.)

He stays until the last customer has finally left, waiting for her to come back to his table with an apologetic smile. When she does, Bear hands her his empty plate, watching her take a step back when he scoots out of the booth, rising to his full height. He makes note of the way her eyes round as they follow him up. Taller than her, unsurprisingly. Surprising though, the way her bottom lip droops just the slightest bit.

“Is it just you closing up?” he asks, voice a tad too gruff. He clears his throat again, looking around for anyone else.

“Well, the chef’s cleaning up in the back, but, uh—” she looks around the diner, conspicuously empty apart from the two of them. “Yeah. Just me.”

Bear gestures with his chin towards the door. “I’ll wait ‘till you’re done, then walk you to your car.”

“Oh, Joe—”

“Bear,” he corrects.

“Bear,” she amends, fingers twisting together now. He relishes the sound of it on her lips. “You don’t have to. I’m used to it, honestly. I know I just started here, but I’ve done closes before, you know.”

“I’ll wait outside.” A statement now. Stubborn. He’s always been a bit mulish, hard to shake off.

He can tell the second she relents, shoulders slumping. “Alright. I shouldn’t be too long…you can leave if you get bored though. Won’t blame you.”

He fights the urge to tilt her head up by the chin to make her meet his eyes. Just barely restrains himself.

Leaning against a tree out front, he twirls the ring around his finger as he watches her clean up. For the first time in a long time, he slips it off.

#ceil writing #joe bear graves #six (2017)#joe graves #six #big bear

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cambion-companion · 1 year ago

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BG3 Companions on a Halloween Date

YES I was itching to do something for the BG3 gang for the season. You could say it's been bugging me. Hah. Ok sorry it's the influence of my pfp.

Let's start with

You want a cozy night in under the covers, watching scary movies (or puppet shows or whatever the heck is the equivalent in Faerun) but he's not sold on the idea. "I've seen enough horror to last me several lifetimes, darling."

Instead Astarion would take you out in the crisp Autumn air, under the distant sun, for a walk crunching through the dried leaves of brown and red.

He'd want to go to the pumpkin patch to find the perfect gourd for a Jack-o-Lantern.

When the sun set so very early in the afternoon, you'd retire back to your cozy abode and set to carving faces into your pumpkins.

Astarion of course would make short work of his, dexterous as ever with those knives, and he would do his best to shape the face into what he hopes he looks like.

Either that or, depending on where you're at in his character arc, he'd remake Cazador BEFORE gutting it and making a whole show of utterly eviscerating the poor Halloween decoration. "Astarion, this is supposed to be relaxing." "This IS my ideal downtime."

You want someone who will snuggle under the covers and watch Hocus Pocus with you? Wyll is your man. But sorry I'm trying to keep to a less modern AU.

Wyll seems like the kind of guy who would put on some fitting music as you two cooked together, dancing in the kitchen intermittently and almost forgetting to check on the cookies before they burned.

He's such a sweetheart, checking to make sure you're happy with just spending an evening indoors with him. "We can go out on the town if you desire, sweetheart." "No, Wyll, I've told you this is absolutely perfect."

Depending on the choices you've made with him thus far, Mizora might pop in to dip her finger in the batter and bamf out again, giving ya'll a cheeky wink. "Ta ta, love imps. You make me physically ill."

Sigh, you're back for more bones hm?

Alright I'll entertain you.

You ask Withers to dance to Spooky Scary Skeletons. He looks at you, unimpressed. "Get thee hence." "Wilt thou harass someone else?"

Ideally I would propose and she'd say "yes". Oh what? Sorry, I was miles away.

For a Halloween date. Hm. A corn maze. Definitely.

She'd be all about her tutelage under Shar's freaks followers and want to show off her sneaking skills.

It would turn into a game of hide-and-go-seek and then it'd get a little creepy before she'd inevitably pounce on you and you'd end of in a fit of laughter together.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!" "Well, Shaddy, sometimes I wonder." "Good to keep you on your toes, then." "Careful, I saw a pond on the way in."

Then you two would go and get some candied apples and chat about memories and flowers that bloom in the gloaming.

Oh Gale.

He'd love to read to you out of a classic gothic novel (cough cough Dracula cough cough) while you two cozy up under some blankets.

He'd probably get fresh with you and run a hand up your leg or something, OH SORRY this is post the patch that fixed that? OK. He'd wait an extra hour.

Tara would curl up next to you and listen as he read from the book, the firelight crackling and warming your bodies as the night grows dark outside.

Afterward he would ask if you'd like to be guided into the Astral plane where you can look down on the All Hallow's Eve festivities below.

yeah, gotta give Tiefling daddy some love. Especially since I still feel bad for massacring them all my last playthru.

Zevlor is another who has seen his fair share of horror, and he would opt to do something more lighthearted with you for a Halloween date.

He seems like a family kind of man, so I expect he would invite the whole gang over for a delicious dinner. Mol and her friends, Arabella and her parents. Rolan and Zorru and maybe even Auntie Ethel will sneak in there. Then it really WOULD be a Halloween experience.

After the dinner and the guests are snoozing or already left he'd wrap an arm around you and pull you close. "Would you accompany me outside? I would like to show you the stars and tell their tales. It's been so long since I've gotten to properly admire them. Or you."

Of course I have to include the daddy devil, who do you think I am?

Raphael would take you to a haunted house, of course. OF COURSE.

Hell, what better house that is haunted than the House of Hope?

It would be horrifying for you, since the no touching rules don't apply there, and most amusing for him.

You'd practically climb the cambion in your efforts to avoid the ghosties, especially that one who constantly says "huuuurt meeee, pleeeaaase."

Raphael would enjoy watching you squirm, and remind you such a fate would not be yours only IF you followed his rules.

Oh yeah, and maybe if you're lucky, or perhaps very unlucky, he'll invite you to his Boudoir.

Oak Father frowns on dissecting pumpkins for the sake of creating superfluous lanterns (or something...I heard it from a friend who heard it from a friend, ok)

Instead, Halsin would druid craft you vines and harvest fruits in whatever shapes, sizes, and colors you desired.

He'd also want to go trick or treating so BADLY. "But Halsin, you're eight feet tall and built like a linebacker. No one is going to mistake you for a kid." Then he'd cast Disguise Self and you'd be forced to take him out on the town in hunt of candy.

Poor guy didn't have much of a childhood and wants to experience the finer things in life. Get those king sized candy bars...just once.

You are a bit huffy, having expected a more...romantic evening than this. But he'll make it up to you later winkwonk , till you can bearly stand it.

You guys would get all CUTE and gussied up together.

Go out on the town.

Pick the best looking victim to be a sacrifice to Lolth.

Wait...what?

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renren-006 · 8 months ago

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Savior | Daryl Dixion x fem reader

plot: Daryl saved you, and you want to kiss your savoir warning: slight mentions of almost taken advantage of, violence word count: 1518 a/n: I just had to write this idea!

taglist: @rosecentury

Back when the world had just ended, and things were still unknown, you were wounded around Atlanta's wooded, less populated areas. You had run from your car that got overrun, remembering the screams of your parents and the harsh pain in your ankle after you fell from the car watching them. You still struggled on your ankle; hisses escaped your lips as you walked. You had not stopped long through the days to heal or to rest, not knowing where the next undead would come for your flesh. Your jeans were worn and dirty, your red shirt now had holes, and you desperately wanted a bath.

The day Daryl came to your rescue was the first day you had fallen asleep next to a tree with the fire embers still cooling in the morning rays. You heard the crunch and woke with a startle; there were three men watching you, all eyeing your body like a prise.

"Well, lookie here, boys, some fresh meat for us," one of them said, toying with his belt to hide the painfully evident erection there. All three of them had one. You didn't know what to do, had nowhere to go, and knew you wouldn't make it far with your ankle.

"Please don't," you said, your voice coming out louder than you intended, maybe preying someone would hear you.

"Aw, look at her. She's begging. I want her first," the second man said, and the others shook their heads.

"no way she's mine," The third said, pushing his friend back before strutting twords you.

"No, No!" you said, shouting; maybe even the undead would save you. "Please!" he came to you, and you struggled to push him off. The others were smiling, ribbing their pants, and wanting their turn.

"Hurry up, man", the first man said. Wanting the man who was trying to get your belt off to rush. That was when an arrow went through the man's skull, making his body thud against the forest floor, and then the second man went down with a knife in the head. The man on top of you looked back and gave you just enough room for you to knee his body off you. The man looked angry as you went back further, your pants even more ruined from the mud. Thankfully, your belt was still on, and your pants only ripped slightly from his strength. The man went down soon after, and two men peered around the trees twords you.

"Hey there, girlie?" one of them asked, the same face the men had before they died. The shorter one pushed him back, walking over to you, bending down by the man, and pushing him away so you couldn't see his dead eyes.

"We ain't goin' to hurt ya," he said, his voice soothing you from wanting to leave. "We got ya know."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the taller one said.

"He ain't going to hurt you either. hands off, Merle," the man sad

"I got it", Merle said, getting the hint that I wasn't to be touched by him at all.

"I'm Daryl, that ma brother Merle. He won't get his hands on ya," Daryl said to you, holding out a hand; this seemed to be the first act of kindness this man had shown anyone in a while, and his face read it all too well.

"You don't save many people, do you?" you asked him. He shook his head, lagging slightly.

"Nah, normally we don't run into people. ya needed help, coulden't leave" Daryl told you, gripping your hand in his as he lifted you up. "You aint got no weapons on you?"

You told him, "No… I didn't prepare for the world to end." He nodded his head. Merle looked around, noticing a few of the undead heading your way.

"We gotta move."

That started your journey with the brothers for a few months. It was just you two. They trained you on how to hunt and how to fight, and most importantly, how to piss Merle off, so he left you alone. Daryl also made sure your ankle was looked after, and in no time, it was better. Merlemeantt, no harm to you; he was just desperate for action you never wanted to give him. Daryl became your savior and bodyguard, making sure Merle understood that would NEVER happen.

The three of you traveled until you met others who welcomed you into their small, little mountain-top community. It was you, the brothers, some sisters, and a man named Dale for a bit. Soon, the group grew and grew, but you only hung with Daryl and cursed off Merle.

However, the time with him on the mountain made you aware of your attraction twords Daryl, the want you craved when you were near him. You were late in your 20's20s, having experienced college before traveling home to your parents just before the world ended. In those times before Daryl, you felt like you were younger, but now you feel your age, you feel strong. For the time being, you felt strong until your group had to pack up and leave because of a walker outbreak.

Months later, you were entering the farm, your hands wrapped around Daryl as he rode into the grounds. You were mesmerized by how quiet and large it was here. While the others were setting up, you glanced over at Daryl, who was setting his tent up a bit away from them but not so far that he was secluded.

"You got a tent?" Carol asked. You looked back at the woman. You didn't know what you were going to do. For the past months, you had slept by Daryl and Merle, but now, you were not sure what you would do.

"She with me," Daryl said, coming over to you. You looked beside you at the man who had apparently finished setting up and had walked over. "That good?"

"Of course," you told him, smiling; he nodded and walked over to Rick and the others.

"You both need to talk about your feelings for one another," Carol told you. "I can see it clear as day."

"Carol!" you said to the woman who had become a mother of sorts to you over the months. “I…cant”

"I think you can. I think you should," she told you, patting your back and going over to the others, leaving you thinking about how exactly you could even begin to explain to Daryl how Head becomes the soul man you wanted to be with for the rest of this apocalyptic world.

It took you weeks and weeks to gain the courage, and only after he got shot did you tell him. He was lying in that recovery bed, not able to move a lot. You came in and sat beside him.

"Whatcha doing in 'ere," He asked you as you sat down in the chair by his bed.

"I…needed to tell you something…" You said to him, referring to the breakfast you had only a few hours earlier, which was being eaten away by the nerves.

"What? Ya hurt?" he asked, concern spreading fast across his face.

"No, no," you told him, "I…god, I don't think I can tell you."

"Tell me what?" he asked, his southern accent so strong inside that room that it made your head spin.

"How you've been making me feel," you started, "I just didn't. I don't want to lose you, and after you got shot, I figured I might as well tell you before you died, and I never did."

"What are ya going on about?"

"I love you, Daryl. I've loved you since you saved me, and God, I love you even more since you've shown me how to be strong in this world", you rambled to the man in the bed beside you. Your hands were in your lap, and your eyes were glued to them.

"Y/N," Daryl said in a soft tone you had never heard from him.

"I know I should have told you you were the man who saved me, and you probably think I'm some kid to you", you said. Worry eating at you again.

"I don't think you're some kid." he told you, "I think you're a lot more than that."

"You do? You asked, eyebrows scrunched together.

"That first night you spent with us, I didn't sleep cause I couldn't keep my eyes off ya," he told you, "I thought you were…blessed by a god or somethin'" he told you, holding your stare; there were tears in your eyes now

"I don't think I ever heard you talk like that," you said, smiling through the slight tears brimming your eyes.

"Ya won't again," he told you, pulling you down to him and kissing your lips so deeply. The door behind you opened, and then the person proceeded to fall into the door.

"Finally," Carol screeched. Smiles stretched over her face, as well as Ricks', who came to check on Daryl. Finally, you got to kiss your savor after all these months.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion #daryl dixion imagine #the walking dead imagine #fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl x reader

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evervigilantnightshade · 19 days ago

Text

The Line - Part 2

Reader and John have always straddled the line between playful flirting and taking things further. However when they are forced into a safe house and a secret comes out will they be able to save what they were heading for or is all lost.

Reader x John Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Laswell, Original characters.

Warnings: Angst, violence towards reader, reader attacked by men, a pup gets hurt but don't worry he's ok. Blood

Authors note: This is a rough chapter. Lots of angst, hurt and sadness.

MASTERLIST

“I have six on the roof. I’ll take the West side and the one facing South, you take East and the one facing North.” Y/N said in the coms looking down at the warehouse.

“Copy that.” Ghost replied.

They both took out the lookouts quickly and quietly as the team reached the building. Soap headed in her direction as Price and Gaz headed in Ghost's direction. The goal was to put stoppers on all the doors, and put a target marker on the roof. Gaz was in charge of the marker while Price and Soap took on the exits.

“Hold up. Soap you have two around the corner from you.” Y/N said into the coms

She had the man in the back lined up in her scope when she felt a hand wrap around her ankle and yank her backwards causing her to cry out.

“Belladonna ya good?” Soap asked into the coms.

“Soap… not in position.” Was all she could say before she turned her body around bringing her other leg up and kicking her assailant in the face.

“Ghost you’re solo” She grunted and then looked over and saw another man standing next to her with a gun.

“What’s happening” Price barked

She reached down as the other man was distracted by his partner's groans of pain and pulled her knife out, throwing it so it hit him in the chest.

“One second” She huffed as she stood up.

The remaining man stood up straight, looking around for his gun and noticed it was about five feet away from him. He pulled a knife out from behind his back and then looked back at Y/N. He lunged for her but she went down and kicked his left knee out before he could make contact and then stood up quickly getting behind him and wrapping her arm around his neck.

“BELLADONNA REPORT IN NOW.” Price said harshly into the coms.

“I said” She grunted as she tightened her grip on the man’s neck. “One second.” She then heard the crunch of his neck breaking and she dropped him. “Ok all clear.”��

“What the hell happened?” Price asked.

“Patrol. They must have added one.” Y/N got on one knee and grabbed her gun to look over at Ghost’s position. “Ghost be silent. You got three coming up the hill towards you. I’ve got them in my scope.”

She lined up her shots and took them out back to front. Then quickly moved her scope to Soap who was standing over two dead men.

“Clear. “I’ve gotta move. I have two DBs at my spot.”

“You broken?” Price asked, worry lacing his voice.

She looked herself over and saw the man’s knife sticking out of her leg. She yanked it out and pulled the bandana that was around her neck, quickly wrapping it over the wound.

“I’m fine.” She grunted as she pulled the bandana tight.

She cursed the men on the ground and then looked around for a good vantage point. She saw one about 50 feet away and quickly moved. Laying down she put Soap in her scope again.

“Alright, let's get this over with.”

“I’ve got a car approaching.” Ghost said gruffly and all three men on the ground crouched down. “Looks like the man of the hour.”

“In position” Price replied

They watched as Bako got out of the car. The way he was positioned Y/N couldn’t confirm it was actually him.

“A'body git eyes on his face?” Soap asked a Y/N huffed in annoyance.

“Not on my end. Ghost and Price he’s closer to you, do you have eyes on?”

“Working on it.” Price said quietly.

Bako was about to walk into the building and Y/N felt anxiety taking over her body. If they couldn’t confirm it was him the whole mission was a bust. She bit her lip so hard it almost bled. What felt like an eternity later they finally heard Price’s voice in the coms.

“Confirmed. Bako has entered the building.”

The team signed with relief in unison.

“Alright Gaz get your arse up to the roof so we can get out of here.” Price instructed and he pressed a large stopper on the door Bako had just entered through.

Y/N watched as Gaz used his grappling hook and climbed onto the building. Once the marker was in place and the doors were secured the three of them went back to the boat and when they were far enough away Price called it in. Y/N stood up with her gun against her chest and watched as the missile came out of what seemed like nowhere and lit up the entire warehouse.

“Target eliminated” Ghost confirmed

A small celebration erupted from the coms and Y/N smiled. Finally a win. She glanced down at her leg in the light of the fire in front of her and then scrunched her face as she could see blood seeping down from under the bandana.

“Alright, Ghost and Bells meet up with the rest of us at the extraction point. Coms off unless it's an emergency. Good job team.” Price instructed

Y/N turned and started limping her way down the hill to meet Ghost, her adrenalin now subsiding. She had taken a lot longer than what was expected so she wasn’t surprised to see him making his way over to her and she could tell he was pissed.

“Liar” He hissed and she shook her head.

“I didn’t lie, I am fine. Just bleeding a little.”

“Stubborn woman.” He scolded and motioned for her to sit down on a rock next to the road.

“Just stitch me up and we won’t say anything about this to the others.”

He took off the bandana and ripped her pants so he could see the wound. He pressed the skin beside it harder than he had too causing Y/N to jolt forward in pain.

“Sadist.” She hissed

“Alright, you don’t need a hospital, I can handle this.” He said and pulled off his pack

“I told you.” Y/N said, rolling her eyes.

“Ya also said weren’t hurt so excuse me for not believing you.”

He started cleaning the wound and Y/N’s fists clenched at her sides.

“So, you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Price?” He asked when he had to press down on the actual wound.

“Right now? You want to do this now?” Y/N said holding herself back from swatting Ghost’s hands away.

“Yeah why not. Now's as good a time as any. No one else is around and we can be candid.” He said and then pushed the needle through her skin.

She hissed and he reached up and grabbed her neck and pulled her forward so their foreheads were touching.

“Man up.” He whispered and she nodded.

He let go of her neck and she now had a determined look on her face. He pulled the thread through and then pushed the needle in again. This time she remained silent.

“So Price. Never seen you do feelings. What changed?”

“The stakeout.” Was all Y/N said and Ghost nodded.

“Figured.”

Her and Price were on a stake out together in a seedy hotel in a seedy part of town. It was a place where you don’t go anywhere alone and don’t make eye contact with the other hotel guests. The beds were gross and the room smelled like cigarette smoke and regret but it had one redeeming quality. It overlooked a bar that Bako’s right hand man liked to frequent.

Y/N watched through the binoculars at the entrance of the bar, the patrons filtering in and out. They had been here for three days already and hadn’t had any luck. She sighed and reached over for her cold, almost empty cup of coffee. She took a sip and then shook her head with a look of disgust on her face as she placed the coffee cup down again. She yawned and stretched her arms up above her head.

“Here let me take over for a bit and you get some kip.” John said from behind her and she nodded in agreement.

She stood up and rubbed her right hip that was now sore due to sitting in a very uncomfortable kitchen chair for the last few hours. She looked over at the table and grabbed a pack of cigarettes, then frowning upon realising they were empty. She looked all over the kitchen while Price situated himself in the offending chair.

“Hey, are there any smokes left?” She asked, stifling another yawn.

“How should I know, I’ve been smoking my cigars, the smokes are all yours.”

She frowned and rubbed her temples.

“I thought there was at least one pack left but I guess not. I’m going to have to run over to the store.”

“Not on your own you aren’t.” John said sternly and she sighed.

“Price, it's literally next door and you have to watch the bar. I’ll be fine. I have my knife,” she lifted up her pant leg to reveal her hunting knife tucked into her boot “and it’s the middle of the day. Nothing is going to happen. I’ll be quick. 5 minutes tops.”

She wasn’t waiting for an answer and already had one foot out the door, before he could argue it any further she closed the door and made her way to the elevator.

When she stepped out into the fresh air of the street she stopped to take a big breath in. It has been three days since she had left the hotel room and the sun on her skin felt good. Remembering where she was though she opened her eyes quickly and put her head down, heading next door.

There was an alley separating the hotel and the convenient store next door. She was just crossing in front of the alley when she heard a dog yelp and then two men laugh. She then heard the dog yelp again and even though she knew it was a bad idea she turned and walked towards the sounds.

What she saw broke her heart. In front of her was an extremely small dog cowering against the wall as two men threw beer bottles at it.

“Hey fuckfaces, what the hell do you think you are doing?” She yelled as she approached.

“Just having a little fun here. What's it to you?” One of the men said as the other threw another beer bottle.

Y/N rushed forward and situated herself between the men and the pup. She glanced back at it and could tell it was injured. Tears started to form in her eyes.

“I highly suggest that you leave now.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? And what are you going to do if we don’t?” The second man said as he started to advance on her.

She started to bend down to grab her knife when a beer bottle hit her in the top of the head disorienting her. Suddenly one of them was on top of her. He tackled her to the ground and punched her in the face a few times causing her head to smack against the pavement.

“Hey don’t hit her too hard or you’ll knock her out. Then she’ll be no fun.” The other one said and the guy on top of her stopped hitting her.

Instead he grabbed her leg and started dragging her further into the alley. Her head was spinning and she desperately grabbed the air around her for something to defend herself with. Her hand landed on a glass beer bottle and she gripped it tight. When they stopped moving, she sat up quickly and hit the man on the head, breaking the bottle and then plunged it into his chest. He stumbled backwards while looking down at his chest in surprise, eventually falling against a dumpster.

“You bitch.” The other man said and then ran over to her, kicking her in the ribs a few times before getting on top of her and wrapping his hands around her neck.

She tried to fight him off but her head was swimming and she didn’t have the strength. For a moment she thought that this was going to be her end. Not in battle like she thought, but in some seedy alley by some unknown man.

The darkness started taking over her vision when suddenly the hands wrapped around her neck let go. She gasped in the air she desperately needed and then looked to see the pup biting the man's leg as he tried to push it off. Seeing her chance she reached down and pulled out her knife and with everything she could muster she stabbed it into the man's neck and then pulled the knife forward. Blood poured all over her face and chest and then he collapsed on top of her.

She quickly pushed him off and laid there catching her breath. She felt the pup come up and lay his head in the crook of her arm and she let out a sob.

“Good pup.”

She went in and out of consciousness, losing track of time. She was starting to go out again when the pup suddenly sat up and started growling. She then heard John’s voice calling her name.

“Price.” She tried to call out but her voice wouldn’t cooperate.

As he got closer the pup started barking and Price walked over having heard. As soon as he saw Y/N he ran over to her in shock. Y/N patted the pup to let him know it was ok.

“Jesus Christ. Y/N, Y/N can you hear me.”

She nodded yes.

Instantly he got on the phone.

“Watcher, we need an immediate medical evac.”

“How bad?” Kate asked and he shook his head.

“I don’t know. It looks bad but I can’t…” He had to stop and take a breath to calm the panic that was filling his mind. “I can’t tell what’s hers and what isn’t. We’ll need a clean up crew too.”

“Evac is at least 10 minutes out.” She replied and he swore.

“Tell them to make it faster.”

He hung up the phone and then started inspecting Y/N’s wounds. He couldn’t distinguish anything due to all the blood and instead just started running his fingers through her hair while whispering words of encouragement.

“John.” She rasped. “When they come. Bring the dog.”

“The dog?” John asked, looking at the small street dog beside him.

“Pup saved me. Is family now. Hurt too.”

John saw that the pup had some injuries and gently reached over and ran his finger over the pup's head.

“Good job bud.” He said

When the team arrived Ghost was with them and they loaded Y/N into the van. John grabbed the pup and then got in behind them.

“What’s with the dog?” he asked but John didn’t answer.

When they got to base John watched as they wheeled Y/N straight into the med bay, not letting him follow. He stood there for a minute and then turned and headed to the on base vet.

“Do whatever you have to do.” John instructed them and they took the pup to the back.

About 20 minutes later the vet came out to speak to John.

“Alright you got a tough little guy in there. He’s got a cut that needs to be stitched and he’s going to lose his right eye but overall I think he’s going to be ok.”

John sighed with relief. He couldn’t do anything for Y/N right now but he could do this.

“What about shots and stuff? What does he need?” Price asked

“Well considering he’s a street dog I would assume he’ll need the whole gambit.”

“Do it.”

“He also needs a name.” The vet said and John thought for a moment.

“Call him Odin.” Remembering Y/N's fondness for Norse Mythology

“Alright you gave us your number, so we’ll call you in a few days when he can be picked up and go home with you.

He headed back over to the med bay and saw Laswell talking to the doctor. Ghost sitting in a chair next to them. He immediately went over to them.

“How is she?” He interrupted them

The doctor looked over at Laswell who nodded.

“Well she has two broken ribs, a broken nose, a split lip that needed stitching. We had originally thought her right orbital bone was broken but it’s not; however we will have to wait to see if there is lasting damage to the eye. Our biggest concern is the injuries she sustained to her head. She needed multiple stitches in the back of her head and she is currently getting an MRI to see what’s going on.”

Price nodded, unable to speak due to the lump in his throat.

“Thanks doc, keep us updated.” Kate said and the doctor nodded heading back into the ward.

Ghost stood up and stood in front of John, his body tense.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, his voice strained.

“I don’t know, she insisted on going to the store next door by herself.”

“And you let her?” Ghost asked gruffly

Instead of answering John walked over and let out a scream and kicked the chair Ghost had been sitting on down the hallway. He walked away without saying another word.

Y/N was out for five days. On the evening of the fifth day she slowly opened her eyes to see Ghost on one side of her and John on the other.

“Boys…” She began but started coughing.

John immediately got up and grabbed a cup of water, letting her take slow small sips.

She glanced over at Ghost and kept staring at him for a minute before smiling and reaching out, squeezing his hand. He slowly nodded at her and then got up and left the room.

She then turned to John.

“ Am I broken?” She asked

“You are. Nothing that can’t heal though. I want to be mad at you, but I’m more mad at myself. I shouldn’t have let you go alone. I should have insisted I went with you. I’m sorry.”

‘John, this one's on me not you. I should be the one apologising.”

She reached over and grabbed his hand. All he wanted to do is crawl into the hospital bed and scoop her up into his arms, protecting her from anything and everything. Instead he settled on kissing the back of her hand.

“How’s the pup?” She asked.

“He’s fine, lost an eye though.”

“Well we can match for a bit” Y/N reached up and touched the patch on her eye.

“I got him all his shots and everything. He’s on meds so the team has been taking care of him. Snuck him into the barracks. I got him a collar, a harness and a leash as well as some toys, a bed and a food and water dish. I stayed up at night with him his first night after the vet because he wasn’t used to having a home but he’s warmed up to us.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at him as she listened to him talk.

“That was it, that was the moment” Y/N explained to Ghost.

He tied the last stitch and then placed a bandage on her leg. He then handed her some tablets which she swallowed dry.

“Well, I’m pretty sure he was forced to accept that he had fallen for you too that day. Thought he was going to lose you and it scared the shit out of him.”

He reached out his hand to help Y/N stand up.

“If this shifts Si, if this thing between me and Price gets serious I’m going to want to tell him.”

Ghost looked out into the distance and then sighed.

“I figured as much. I know you feel bad for keeping this from the team, but I just don’t know if I’m ready for everyone to know.”

“Well it wouldn’t be everyone, we could just tell John.”

“I know, let me think about it, yeah?”

Y/N nodded and then motioned for them to get moving. They walked in silence and Y/N felt a tightness in her chest. Hopefully Simon would agree to let her tell John everything. The only question was, would he understand.

#captain price x reader angst #captian john price #cod #john price #captain john price angst #captain john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price angst

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zepskies · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I was wondering if the requests are still open? I’m so obsessed with BMD💗✨ I was wonder how Ben would react to his gf having cramps during her moon cycle✨

Tysm for sharing these awesome stories with us hun🫂💗✨Hope you’re healthy and happy💃🏻❤️

Hey there!

I'm so glad you love BMD. 🥰 I’m slowly but surely working through my inbox of requests! And because I’m currently on my “moon cycle” as I’m writing this [last week. I was suffering for four days], I just had to do this prompt. So thank you for it, lovely!

And you're so very welcome. It's my pleasure. I hope you're healthy and happy as well!! ❤️❤️

AN: This one is set in the Break Me Down-verse, but can be read as a stand-alone. Considering where we're going next in "Strong as Blood," I thought it'd be good to release this first lol.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Word Count: 2,700 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, of course. Hurt/comfort, fluff, grumpy Ben.

Imagine: How Ben reacts to his girlfriend having cramps during her period.

You really were going to die this time.

The thought was both a conviction and a deranged mantra as you stood hunched over the bathroom sink. Nausea and pain warred for dominance as you pressed a clammy hand over your forehead.

Jesus Christ, end me please. I beg of you.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend was in the bedroom getting ready for work. Both you and Ben worked at Supe Affairs now, with Butcher and the rest of the team.

You were one of the top agents in the Surveillance department, while Ben was considered a “contractor,” catching rogue supes and dealing with the remnants of Vought.

He was just about to undress from his shirt and sweatpants and start getting his supe suit on, when he heard the toilet flush in the bathroom…for the third time now. He realized then just how long you’d been in there.

He went over and knocked on the closed door.

“Hey, you planning on going to work today?” he said, with a teasing note to his voice. “Or making breakfast, for that matter?”

“Not now, Ben,” you replied, barely stifling a groan.

A frown tugged at his lips. “What’s wrong?”

“Debating if I’m gonna start my day by throwing up last night’s pot roast,” you replied sourly.

Ben’s brows crunched when he heard the strain in your voice. But at the same time, he couldn’t help smiling.

“What, are you pregnant?” he asked.

He heard your dry huff from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Most definitely not,” you said. “But at this point, I’d much rather be knocked up.”

Ben didn’t like the sound of that. He twisted the doorknob and let himself in, just to see his girlfriend locked up with pain. He read the misery written across your face. You were still in your pajamas (one of his old shirts that hung almost to your knees).

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeated gruffly. He rested a heavy hand on your back, between your shoulders. You let out a breath.

“Move that hand lower?” you requested. “My period came early this month. Hit me out of nowhere with a vengeance.”

His brows crunched a bit, but he obliged you, moving to your lower back. His hand was warm, as usual, and the weight of it was a small relief as he rubbed back and forth into your aching muscles.

You let out a deep breath and briefly closed your eyes. Finally, the nausea was starting to pass. And if you dawdled any longer, you were going to be late for work.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I need to get ready.”

You tried to straighten up, even though what felt like your entire lower body protested.

“You can barely move,” Ben said. “How’re you gonna work like that?”

“The way all women have managed to do for centuries,” you tartly pointed out. “With a buttload of painkillers and a heating pad under my desk…speaking of, where is that thing?”

You moved past him to look for said object. You knew you put it somewhere…

Ah! You found it in the top drawer of your nightstand. You plugged it in just to make sure it was working, but to your frowning suspicion, it didn’t turn on.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said. You pressed the “on” button several times, but it didn’t light up. You touched the fluffy heating pad on both sides, but it was still cold. “Damn it. Don’t tell me this thing’s broken!”

You were about ready to tear the thing apart with your bare hands, when a sudden cramp spasmed in your lower belly. You inhaled sharply and held a hand there with a wince. Your back bent forward on reflex, and you grabbed onto the nightstand to steady yourself.

“All right,” Ben said. He took the defunct heating pad out of your hand and guided you to sit down on the edge of the bed. He went over to his side to grab his cell phone where it sat on his nightstand.

When you twisted to see what he was up to, you raised a suspicious brow. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not going to work,” he said. His tone was matter of fact, and your brows rose even higher.

“What? Ben—”

He ignored you when whoever he was calling finally answered the phone.

“Yes?” came Grace Mallory’s steady, but slightly incredulous voice. Ben never called her, nor did he want to. But he didn’t have your manager’s number and didn’t feel like scrolling through your phone to find it.

“She’s not coming in today,” Ben said, without preamble.

"Ben," you tried. Again, he ignored you.

In his ear, Grace spoke your name, both a question and a clarification.

“Yeah, she’s sick. Get someone else to fill in,” he said.

Grace sighed. “…All right, but just so you know—”

Ben hung up the phone before she could finish. He then tossed it onto the bed. You shot him a wry, questioning look.

“What did she say?” you asked.

“It’s fine. You’ve got the day off,” he said. “Just relax.”

You sighed. Going above your manager to call Grace wasn’t the protocol for taking PTO in the slightest, but you couldn’t help but smile.

You beckoned him over with a hand. "Come 'ere."

A smirk tugging at his lips, Ben came back around to your side of the bed. You pulled him down by his shirt until he sat next to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Maybe it was a small thing, but sometimes your boyfriend surprised you with the ways he showed that he cared.

“Thanks, baby,” you said softly. You carded your fingers through his hair, rested them at the back of his neck.

“Mhmm,” Ben nodded, rubbing your back again. “I gotta get going.”

“If you must,” you sighed. You pulled away enough to see his face, and something occurred to you. “Oh, can you get me some more feminine pads on the way home? And some Midol, and a new heating pad?”

Ben raised a brow at you. This was where he drew the line. He wasn’t about to be caught dead browsing through pads and tampons in some pharmacy aisle. God for-fucking-bid, some kid would be there with a camera phone. He’d learned about the internet, and it was worse than the tabloids used to be.

But you read the pullback in his face. You implored him with your eyes, and your gentle fingers in his hair.

“Please?” you asked. “I’d do it for you.”

Ben’s frown deepened.

“I’m not the one with the…” He gestured at you vaguely. “Monthly problem.”

You grinned a little. The way he reluctantly phrased it amused you. Despite his deplorable sense of humor, and often vulgar language, not to mention his blatant love of pussy, you supposed his fragile male disposition wouldn’t allow him to say the words.

Period.

Menstrual cycle.

Bleeding from the vagina.

“Exactly,” you countered, and you leaned up to once again snuggle your face into his neck. “Please, baby. You don’t know how much it hurts right now. You really want me to go to the store like this?”

Ben held you back with a terse sigh. You were somehow ready to go to work a minute ago, yet you couldn’t drive around the corner to the drug store?

“Fine,” he groused. His voice was nearly a growl, but you still smiled behind his back. You laid small, sweet kisses into his neck. When you leaned back, you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” you said between kisses. Ben just shook his head when you were done bribing him with affection.

“Yeah,” he dully replied. The things I fucking do for you, said his tone.

He finally withdrew from you to continue getting dressed, leaving you to crawl back under the covers and try to find a comfortable angle to lay down. You used all the pillows on the bed, even dragging his toward you. That one you rested your head on, as it still smelled like him.

Ben watched you settle in out of the corner of his eye, like a cat curling up in her bed. A smile tugged at his lips when you sighed in relief and turned on the TV.

He didn’t see so much pain in your features anymore. You seemed in a better mood, relaxed as you held his pillow like an anchor.

So that’s how he left you. However, it wasn’t until he got to the Supe Affairs building that he saw your text pop up on his phone:

Here’s a picture of the pads I like. If you don’t see them, call me and I’ll help you. And don’t forget the heating pad! 😘

He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

By the time he got home that evening with takeout and a plastic bag (filled with the things you'd asked for), he spotted an empty cup of yogurt in the kitchen.

It meant you’d gotten out of bed at some point, at least. He set down the takeout bags on the kitchen counter and made his way up the stairs.

He found you in the same place he left you: in bed, in your pajamas. And you were crying while watching a movie.

Ben frowned. He stood in the doorway in his supe suit with the pharmacy bag.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. You looked up and finally noticed him.

“Oh, hey.” You paused the movie. “I’m okay. It’s just…Marley & Me.”

“What?”

“It’s this true story about a dog…just, don’t ask. It’s ridiculously sad,” you sniffed and wiped your eyes.

He raised a brow at you.

“Sure it’s not just your uh…situation, making you all weepy?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You did not just say that.”

Was he really calling you hormonal right now?

His lips pursed, but he held up the bag.

“Before you start blowing your top, I got your female shit.” He ventured into the bedroom and laid the bag in your lap.

Giving him some annoyed side-eye, you peered into the bag. You nodded in approval at the correct brand and size of the pads you wanted, and a new pack of Midol. You then had to smile, as he even got you a couple of Twix bars. Your favorite chocolate covered candy.

“Admit it, I did good,” Ben said with a smirk. Your side-eye was begrudgingly amused this time.

“Color me surprised,” you replied, but you still treated him with a genuine smile. “Thanks, baby. This is perfect…”

Though you realized something was missing. Ben’s smirk started to fade as he caught on.

“Wait.” You sorted through the bag. “Where’s the heating pad?”

Fuck, Ben thought. He forgot.

His expression slackened, making you sigh in disappointment.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you said, ripping open the box of Midol. This would have to be enough to relieve your pain (but it never was). Even now, your cramps were starting back up again.

Ben nodded in response. You were no longer looking at him though.

He let out a sigh. Didn’t he get credit for fucking trying here?

Without another word, he started unzipping his supe suit and disappeared into the bathroom for a shower.

By the time he returned, you were nearly in full fetal position. The Midol had only put a dent in your pain. The First Wives Club movie from the '90s was playing on the TV, but not even that could make you laugh, let alone relax right now.

You were truly miserable, and Ben saw it as he got dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asked. He wasn’t sure about the last time you’d eaten anything.

You paused the movie and moved your head enough to meet his eyes.

“Not really,” you admitted. “You go ahead and eat.”

Oh, he was starving. After the day he’d had, rounding up another telekinetic that tried to trash Midtown to evade capture, Ben could go for about five burgers. But there was a part of him that…didn’t feel right, leaving you like this.

Still, he needed to eat. He went downstairs and grabbed his meatball sub out of the takeout bag. He also took your sandwich along too, just in case the sight of food managed to make you hungry. He brought it all upstairs and sat next to you in bed. Though he was also kind of behind you, the way you were curled up.

You'd felt when his body dipped on his side of the bed. His presence both soothed and annoyed you. The former, because you did love your man. The latter, because he forgot the most important thing you'd reminded him not to forget.

You reached back blindly, eventually finding his hand that wasn't occupied with holding his sandwich. You placed that hand on your lower back.

"Massage, please," you grunted into your pillow. (Well, his pillow, but semantics.)

He sighed through his nose and a mouthful of meatball.

"I'm eating," he replied.

"What, you can't multitask?" you quipped.

Ben's gaze hardened with annoyance at the back of your head.

Still, he found himself reaching over and rubbing across your lower back. He applied gentle, but firm pressure with the heel of his hand. You sighed in appreciation.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Ben nodded and continued to polish off his sub while watching the movie. He usually wasn’t into chick flicks, but Bette Midler was hilarious, and Goldie Hawn was hot as fuck.

“I got you turkey and provolone,” he said. You nodded.

“Thanks. I’m still not hungry though.”

“Are you nauseous?”

“No…just in pain.”

Ben frowned…until he got an idea. He crumpled up his trash and tossed it onto the nightstand for now, along with brushing off the crumbs from his chest. He grabbed a couple of your pillows and propped them up behind him, against the headboard.

You shot him an annoyed look. “Hey!”

“You’re like a little dragon with her hoard a’ gold,” he remarked, smirking. Before you could start getting all huffy, he reached for your arm. “Come ‘ere.”

“What?”

“For once, just do what I'm telling you," he said. His lips twitched at your narrowing eyes. "I’ve got an idea."

With a loud sigh, you reluctantly (and slowly) uncurled and turned towards him. Ben laid back against the headboard, and he guided you to lay on top of him. You often complained that his skin was too hot at night for summer. Sometimes you woke up sweating.

It was a result of the power that emanated from his chest. Ben couldn’t exactly control the heat; at least, not when he was sleeping. But he was sure you were going to appreciate it more when winter came.

Not to mention, right now.

He positioned you just right, with your knee curling around his hip and your head resting against his chest. His large hand once again soothed against your lower back, underneath your shirt, and his fingers massaged into your skin.

You smiled as you realized what he was doing. You felt the warmth emanating from his body as it seeped into yours. Along with his calming touch, it slowly managed to relieve your pain.

After a few minutes, you let out a deep sigh and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, before you went back to resting on him fully. You couldn’t see it, but Ben smiled.

“Better?” he asked.

You closed your eyes with a soft smile. “Yeah. My new heating pad’s working wonders.”

Ben huffed a bit at that.

Just then, your stomach growled fiercely. Your eyes popped open.

You met your boyfriend's wry look, biting your lip. He smirked and reached down into the bag that still laid beside the bed. He retrieved your foil-wrapped sandwich and handed to you. You took it and happily began breaking through the foil.

Ben looked down at you, both fond and resigned. You clearly had no intention of getting off him. Which meant you were about to try and use him like some kind of makeshift man table.

You eventually took a bite of your sandwich, your eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation. You glanced up at his raised brow with a happy little smile.

“So good!” you said, still with your mouth full.

Ben restrained the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he thumbed at a bit of crumb on the corner of your mouth.

“Just don’t get mustard on my shirt,” he said.

AN: Lol I hope you liked this! I had fun with it, even though I don't have a body heater for my cramps. 😭

(It's fine. I bought a new heating pad online. ❤️‍🔥)

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forever-rogue · 2 years ago

Note

aaahhh i dont know if you’re still taking requests but i’d love some joel miller x pregnant!reader!! something soft n sweet and nothing but happy for my man! 🥰🥰

AN | It’s a whole lot of angst, but also softness! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.7k

Masterlist | Joel , Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stared at the bright blue sky and let out a long sigh. It was a pretty day, warm and breezy, and quiet. You enjoyed the quiet on the rare occasions you found it; today it was almost too loud. The tranquil stillness almost reminded you of the times before the world fell apart; familiar and calm. The wind was whistling softly through the tall grass and you tried to focus on the sound. Your eyes closed, the sun warming you up and slowly managing to lull you to sleep. It hadn’t helped that you had been exhausted lately. It hadn’t helped that you were pregnant.

You hadn’t meant to get pregnant. Not really, not now anyway. Maybe one day in the future…if there was a future other than the current reality. You hadn’t been sure you wanted to bring a child into this reality. But it was too late to worry about that.

You still hadn’t told him. It wasn’t that you were keeping it from Joel intentionally…well, you supposed you were. You’d meant to tell him, and you would…soon. It was obvious you were pregnant now, and within a community such as yours, it wasn’t going to stay quiet for too long. You knew other women that had babies throughout the years now, but you had just never imagined that it would be you too.

More than anything you were surprised that he hadn’t put two and two together. He must have thought that you were sleeping around if he hadn’t realized he was the father. It made you laugh in a very unamused way; did he really not see that you only had eyes for him? Or perhaps he didn’t feel the same way about you. The reality stung a little bit…you thought you had been growing close to him, thought you might actually have something. But he’d barely even looked at you lately.

It was a fine mess you’d gotten yourself into.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Come on, little blob,” you groaned as you struggled to sit up. Your bump wasn’t huge yet, but it was already making some everyday things harder. It took a moment to pull yourself to your feet, but once you did, you stretched, enjoying the popping in your joints, “we gotta get back. We have to do some laundry.”

When you turned around you almost shrieked in surprise. You hadn’t heard him come, hadn’t sensed his presence in the slightest. You wondered how long he had been standing there.

“Joel,” his name was just a mere whisper from your lips, “w-what are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” he asked softly, his voice almost cracking, “please?”

Your heart beat rapidly as you tried to figure out why he would want to talk to you. He’d been basically avoiding you and now he wanted to speak. It was almost laughable in some ways. You nodded one, “sure.”

“Will you come to mine?” instead of verbalizing an answer you started to walk towards the makeshift town, waiting for him to catch up. He trailed after you, hands in his pockets before catching up with you and walking side by side. It was silent between the two you, only the crunch of gravel underneath your feet. You were feeling a million things all at once, including nauseous, but you knew this time it wasn’t from the baby.

He let you inside, closing the door after you as you stood there awkwardly. You’d been there countless times before but something felt so different today, “you can sit you know.”

“‘m okay,” you insisted. Petulant. Tired. Heartbroken. He nodded as he stood there and leaned against the kitchen counter, “back hurts…it helps to stand sometimes.”

“Mmm,” he nodded as if he understood. You supposed he did in some ways; you weren’t the first pregnant woman in his life. He paused for a few moments before meeting your eyes, “when were you going to tell me it’s mine?”

“When are you going to stop running away from like I have the plague?” you countered in a sharp tone, crossing your arms over your chest, “you haven’t even looked me in the eye since everyone found out that I’m…pregnant.”

“It’s not that-”

“Then what is it, Joel?” you wiped at the tears that had already welled up, “because it sure seems like some suspicious timing.”

“How was I supposed to know it was-”

“Because you’re the only one I’ve been with!” you almost shouted at him, “did you really think I was going around just whoring with a bunch of different guys?”

“I…I don’t know,” he sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his tired face, “I guess I don’t know what I thought.”

“Yeah?” you scoffed and hung your head, “I hope you know how shitty that feels to hear. You think so little of me - of what I thought we had…I really cared about you, Joel.”

You were really over having this conversation and felt like it was going nowhere. You tried to push past him, but he stopped you, fingers wrapping around your wrist, “don’t just walk away.”

“Why not?” you pulled your arm out of his grasp and met his hard gaze, “give me a reason to stay.”

“You can’t just…” he groaned, frustrated with himself more than anything. He was a grown man, he should have things figured out by now and yet he felt like he knew nothing. This was an unprecedented type of thing and he felt so confused and lost. The one thing he did know was that he didn’t want you to be upset. He just wanted you to protect you, keep you safe, and…fuck. He loved you - he knew that much. But he was sure that you wouldn’t believe him right now. Before you could turn around he blurted out, “I’m scared.”

“You’re scared?” you were incredulous, your question coming out with a snort of amusement, “you’re scared, Joel? How the fuck do you think I feel? I’m pregnant, I’m alone, and you - the father of my child - have been icing me out. I’m scared too. But I could at the very least use a friend. You can’t even give me that.”

The two of you looked at each slightly, chests rising and falling rapidly. When he didn’t say anything else you walked out the door and let it slam behind you. You half wondered if he would come after you, try and fix this, but you didn’t hear a sound behind you. Alone. Again.

You should have been used to it by now.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You spent the night tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable sleeping positive and unable to let go of the thoughts of Joel. Admittedly, you did feel a little bad with how you reacted and practically yelled at him. But you also hadn’t been lying when you said you were scared and hurt too.

That’s all you were, you supposed. Two scared, hurt individuals that had come together and fallen in love. Or something like it. Love adjacent. You weren’t quite sure if you were ready to admit you were in love with Joel. But you definitely did love him. It was…complicated.

And as much as it was complicated, you wanted to make things right. You understood why Joel was scared; his wife had left him and then he’d lost his baby girl, Sarah, at the start of all of this mess, and then he’d almost lost Ellie too. You could glean why he was hesitant to form close relationships and bonds, let alone bring a child into the world.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you…he was just scared. And that was valid. But you still held onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, the two of you would be able to figure it out all. If he still wanted…you weren’t about to force him to be in the child’s life if he didn’t want to be. But then again, it would get interesting as the child got older considering everyone knew everyone’s business.

When you couldn’t take it anymore, you slid off the bed and put on your shoes, pulling on a cardigan as you got ready to go out and see if he was still awake. It was late, but Joel kept odd hours, so you figured it was worth a try.

You didn’t make it very far. When you opened the door, you found Joel on the other side, his eyes widening in surprise. His hand was raised and poised to knock; despite everything that had happened lately you both laughed softly. Clearly this was something that was important to you.

“Can I hug you?” the question was almost whispered, his closing as you tried to gauge your reaction. You felt a lot of things in that moment, but most importantly you realized that yeah, you really, really wanted a hug. And not just any hug - a hug from Joel.

“Yes,” you wrapped your arms around him and you pulled you into his warm frame, enveloping you in the best hug you’d had in a while. He was so familiar that you couldn’t help the small sound that escaped your lips. This was definitely exactly what you had needed, even if you hadn’t known that. You buried your face in his neck, inhaling his familiar scent, practically going boneless into his touch, “Joel.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out heavily, shaky and nervous, but at the same time relieved. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, rubbing your back in soothing circles. Joel always did give the best hugs, “sweetheart, I am so sorry.”

“Hey,” you pulled back and gave him a soft smile. You reached for his hand and pulled him inside, “I’m sorry too, Joel.”

“What are you sorry for?” you dragged him over to the couch and sat down, motioning for him to do the same. You looked at him with soft eyes before shrugging lightly, “I feel like there’s a whole lot more I should be sorry for.”

“How about we just talk about it and not be sorry?” you suggested and a little half smile tugged up the corner of his mouth, “I feel like we can figure it out.”

“We can,” he agreed, looking you over. You didn’t miss the way that his eyes lingered on your belly, “I shouldn’t have just assumed…anything. I should have just come and talked to you. Right away.”

“I tried to tell you,” your breath hitched slightly at the feeling of his hand on your knee. You’d missed his touch more than you had realized. Even just a simple gesture such as this, “but I knew that people were already talking. They’d seen me with a few of the other guys - and you - and just assumed I fucked them all. Joel, I hope you know and that you believe me when I say that I never slept with anyone else. I didn’t want to, I still don’t want to. They were just friends. You and I…we had something special. When I found out and you acted so indifferent it just…hurt.”

“I didn’t…ever think that it was anyone else,” he confessed to which you made a small sound of surprise, “I knew you wouldn’t have…I guess I was just…shocked. It was the last thing I was expecting. I never thought that this would happen.”

“Me neither,” you laughed softly, “obviously I never planned to get pregnant, I never really wanted to…the idea of bringing a child into his world is scary. I didn’t even know if I really wanted to keep it at first but…well, here we are.”

“I wish I wouldn’t have been such a coward,” he laughed bitterly, “maybe things could have been better.”

“As much as I want to be mad at you, I know you weren’t a coward,” you put a finger under his chin and tilted his face up towards yours, “I know you were scared. Just like me.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about it all,” he took your hand in his and traced aimless shapes on your skin, “about Sarah…about Ellie. And the idea that I could have another child and maybe something horrible would happen took over. It was all I could think about. And then I realized that if this was how I was feeling, I couldn’t even imagine what you were feeling. And I had left you all alone.”

“It was hard,” you flipped his palm over and repeated the gesture on him, “lots of nights of sadness and frustration. But...I’m still here. It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

“What if it’s not?”

“We can’t think like that,” you insisted, “I know this world is different than anything we dreamed of, but that’s just what it is. And I don’t want to fear it all the time. I want…I don’t know. But I don’t want to be afraid all the time. I want to be able to enjoy this moment, t-this baby.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, nodding his head softly, “you’re right.”

“I’m not saying that you have to be a part of this Joel,” you promised, hoping that it would serve as a little bit of solace, “you don’t have to be a part of the baby’s life. Not unless you want to. You don’t have to make a decision now, but we can figure it out.”

“I want to,” he insisted and when you met his soft eyes you could see that he was being honest, “I really do want to.”

“Yeah?” you felt a wave of emotion wash over you and Joel reached over to wipe away the tears that you hadn’t even realized had rolled down your cheeks, “are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” he brushed his thumb over the apple of your cheek, “I…I really want this. I want you.”

You gasped at the revelation and he smiled lightly. You opened and closed your mouth a few times as he nodded, “Joel…”

“I don’t want you to think I’m just saying that. I love you,” he whispered, softly but so loudly at the same time, “I’m not just saying it. I mean it and I hope you always know that. I’m just sorry I didn’t realize it sooner o-or tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you gave him a tearful nod, “I think we both had a lot to think about before we got to this point. I love you too, Joel.”

He made a small sound as you laughed lightly, a sound that went straight to his heart. He swallowed thickly as you leaned and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “I don’t know if I deserved that.”

“I don’t know if you did either,” you grinned sweetly, “but you can work for it. Earn it back. If you’re up for it.”

“Yes,” he promised, “absolutely.”

“Good,” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth and Joel thought he might die from the sight. You looked in the direction of your bedroom and motioned with it towards your head, “do you want to stay?”

“You sure?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” you rubbed a hand over tenderly over your bump, “maybe have you there would help.”

“Maybe…”

“It’s worth a try,” you slowly stood up and held out your hand, “c’mon. We’ll figure it all out, I promise.”

“We will,” he took your hand again, and laced his fingers through yours, “I swear we will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miler one shot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #for all the joel girlies #in order of tlou today!

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ephedrathirsts · 2 years ago

Text

Teach me

Synopsis: Your best friend asks you to take his virginity. As the both of you spend more time getting intimate with each other, you are forced to acknowledge your feelings for one another.

Contains: idiots in love trope, friends to lovers trope, lovers in denial, one-bed trope, crack and sarcasm, mutual pining, smut, fingering (reader receiving), dry-humping, fluff, afab reader, eventual angst, anger issues, allusions to surgery

Pairing: Hunter Sylvester! x afab! reader

Word count: 4900

Parts: I, II

You woke up feeling Hunter's breath tickling the back of your neck, his hand still resting firmly on top of you. You turned around to look at him as he was asleep. He looked very peaceful- a huge contrast with his usual state of being. His eyebrows were scrunched up and his mouth was slightly open. He looked cute just lying there. He pulled you closer and nuzzled into you.

"I could feel you staring at me even in my sleep." He yawned and swallowed.

You were caught, embarrassment flooding your head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." You whispered apologetically.

"It's ok, you can make it up to me by staying like this for a little bit." You flushed. He wanted to hold you close. You were baffled but also incredibly joyful about it.

"I can do that." You assured

He made a clicking noise with his tongue and pecked your cheek. You were melting. The last thing you had ever imagined is Hunter being so soft and loving. I guess it is true what people say- harsh exterior, mushy interior. His hair was getting all messy as he adjusted to lay on your chest and put his arms on your sides.

This whole course or whatever he called it was working all too well with you realizing that you might in fact have feelings for this weirdo. You couldn't keep lying to yourself anymore. Your heart was getting warmer for him by the second and the lovey-dovey act made it all the worse. You needed to snap out of it. Detach before it got fatal.

"I think I need to go home."

"We haven't even had breakfast yet. There is Captain Crunch in the kitchen, especially for you." He smiled

"Oh, fuck you, asshole." You jabbed him lightly in the ribs and giggled.

"Ouch, that hurt a lot. Don't you want to kiss it better?" He pouted, pleading to you with his eyes.

You lowered your head to level with his ribs and kissed them over his T-shirt. Then you quickly got out of bed and got your clothes from his desk. "Ok, I gotta run now. Hope you feel better." You nudged yourself to get dressed as fast as possible and head out of the door but before you knew it he was out of bed and hugging you.

"I'm not going to be keeping you. Just wanted to say bye." He declared as he put one loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Your heart was in your throat. Or somewhere else entirely, you weren't sure. But all you knew was that you couldn't speak. You couldn't say anything. You tried to calm down your breathing discreetly, bit down on your tongue, and coughed up a quiet "goodbye". You let go of him and rushed out the door.

His face dropped once you had gone. He knew he had fucked up. Maybe you wouldn't want to even see him again. He probably freaked you out with how needy he was acting but he couldn’t control it. His plan wasn’t going so great after all.

"Fuck!" He hissed as he punched the kitchen island. "Shit, that actually did hurt. Fuck!" He snickered again, holding his fist close to his face so he could inspect it.

"Don't break any of my furniture, kid!" His dad came into the room. "You had a rough night? Wanna talk about it..." For a moment Hunter considered it and then..

"... I mean I get it; they always look prettier at night and in the morning... Uh... Real hags, am I right?" He tried to sound as if he empathized with his son.

"You are talking about my best friend!" Hunter snapped.

"Oh, she spent the night. She is a good kid. But what I said still applies. Everyone looks better at night and when you wake up you realize you made a mistake..."

"Yeah, I get that," Hunter mumbled to himself with a pained expression. "I'm alright, I'm just gonna go down to my room."

"Ok, kiddo. I'm gonna make bacon later, you can help yourself to a serving.." Hunter had already left.

In the meantime, you were sprinting home, galloping even, floating through the air. But why? You felt so nice with him. There was no actual reason for you to go. You couldn't take it. All this uncertainty. All of these intrusive thoughts clouding your judgment. You couldn’t like your friend. Especially not now. Not after what you agreed to do. It is only bound to become worse for you while in the back of his mind there was probably a mental list of all of the girls he was going to bed or whatever.

You had to put your feelings aside. Your friend needed you and you promised to help. And to start making things right you needed to apologize. "I'm sorry I ran off in such a hurry. I remembered I had to look after my uncle's dog. I had a really good time last night! Next time you can pick the show :)"

You texted, wanting to make sure you didn't offend him in any way with your behavior, sprinkling in a little white lie to seem as not so big of an asshole.

Hunter's phone buzzed. He saw he got a text from you. He wasn't prepared for whatever you had sent but curiosity urged him to open the message. "It's no problem. Next time we are doing it at yours and ur ordering." He replied, a smile appearing on his face.

Hunter came over to your house the next weekend. He made a mental note: no funny business, no overdoing it, no scaring you off. He wanted to do anything and everything with you. Go all the way, but you didn't need to know it or sense it. He shouldn't have made it obvious. "Ok, here goes nothing." He whispered to himself.

You opened the door after hearing him knock, shivers and cold sweats running down your body. You could do this. It was just a normal hang-out with your friend. Nothing more. The two of you hadn't spent one on one time for a whole week. That's probably why you were feeling so anxious. "Hello there.." you said awkwardly."Come on in. I've ordered Chinese food and I have snacks."

"Cool.." he smiled politely, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"What do you want to watch.."

"Look I'm sorry. I can't just not say anything. I know I weirded you out last time and I didn't mean to. We can stop with the lessons. I can learn the old-fashioned way." He cleared his throat

"Hunter, you can't possibly weird me out, we've known each other for so long that there Is nothing you could do to achieve that..." You stated well-intentioned, completely lying through your teeth. "I said I was going to help you and from the beginning, you told me how you wanted it to be. You don't want it to seem fabricated, you want it to be natural, and if that's how you are around people you like then whoever gets on your rooster will be incredibly lucky." You smiled at him invitingly

"Thank you.." he still felt a bit shy and out of place but he appreciated your words. "So we are continuing this experiment?" He asked, waiting for a confirmation.

"As long as you want to, yes."

"Great, that's great, yeah. It is totally going to help in the future... you know... when I like someone.."

"Yeah, I do know." You mumbled disappointedly.

The both of you were seated on the sofa in the living room, barely speaking to each other, not because you were so engulfed in the incredible storytelling of "Extreme Cheapskates" but because the both of you were too afraid to disturb the peace, to ruin everything. There was an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and both of you secretly wanted to break it, but you were set on restraining yourselves. Wishing that the other would be the one to make the first move or to speak up.

"I'm gonna go get the popcorn out of the microwave. Be right back"

"Ok, don't take too much time or you might miss the juicy part."

"Sure, as if there is a juicy part." You welled sarcastically from the kitchen, reaching into the microwave, distractedly feeling for the hot bag of popcorn, palms first. You yelped in pain.

"Fuck, ouch" you hissed. Hunter jumped out of his seat and hurried over to you. He looked at you with worry as you ran your hand under the kitchen sink, cold water splashing over your skin.

"I'm ok, don't worry. Just slightly burned myself, a common mistake. Just me being clumsy." You joked but you could still see him coming closer to you to inspect your hand, drying it off with a towel and holding it caringly.

"Do you have Band-Aids or a plaster?" He asked

"Don't be silly, this is nothing. It's not even an actual burn. It just stung a little bit. That's all." You said reassuringly, becoming increasingly aware of his proximity. You could smell his cologne, see every little scratch on his face. As he was holding your gaze, he brought your hand to his mouth and started planting little kisses over it. You gulped. You couldn't take it. His eyes boring into yours. Into your soul even.

He opened his mouth to speak a soft "Is that better?" but you hungrily hushed him with your lips, gripping tightly onto the fabric of his jacket.

He kissed you back, hands on your waist, pulling you close, sensing the scent of your shampoo. He wanted you and maybe you wanted him too.

Not letting go of each other, you led him back into the living room and pushed him down onto the sofa. You were on top of him, looking down with a sheepish smile. He reached up and cupped your face, kissing you way more confidently this time, his tongue meeting yours and playing with it. He put his hands on the small of your back, pushing you down to close the gap between you. As you broke away, he started looking at you all starstruck.

"Do you want to go up to my room?" You asked in a hushed voice. That's all he ever wanted for as long as he could remember, but now when the possibility was so close he panicked. He wasn't ready to have you this close not knowing whether it was going to last.

"Yeah, I do," he said as he gently kissed your neck. "But I can't…I can't do it tonight…I'm sorry." He broke away from your skin

"Oh?" Flush set over your face. "I didn't mean... I get it if you're not ready, I just wanted more privacy... Not sure when my parents are gonna come bursting through the door. I can't have them seeing me on top of you like this."

Fuck, that's how it sounded. I mean maybe you wanted it. You did want to actually. But you were going to let it play out slow and steady. You didn't mean to rush things.

"Oh, ok then.. let’s go.." Hunter chuckled embarrassedly.

"I mean, I thought you were staying over. Like when I stayed over last time. I'm sorry I made things awkward. I didn't mean to kill the mood." You fidgeted with your fingers.

"It's ok, you didn't." He laughed softly and pecked your lips.

Both of you went up the stairs and straight to your room. You were getting progressively hornier. Inexplicably so, right? You hushed the lighting a bit and played music from one of his playlists so he feels more at home. Then you held his hand and whispered: "Do you want to come to bed with me?"

"Yes, positively so." He answered excitedly.

He was such a kid. You loved him for it. Uh.. the l-word. Nope, too early for that. Time to push the thought down and not examine it ever again.

He laid on top of you this time, stroking your hair and slowly kissing down your neck, being careful not to leave any marks. He looked down at you adoringly and played with the hem of your shirt.

"You can take it off if you want to." You told him almost inaudibly

A rush coursed through his body, he put his arms on your stomach and slowly started to peel it off of you when a voice echoed through the house. "Honey, we are home." Shit, cockblocks. The nation's favorites. "Come down for a moment, you need to put away all these plates if you are going to bed. You can't just leave a mess like that." Your mom shouted.

"Coming" you answered with annoyance. "I'm sorry.." you started massaging your temples angrily

"It's ok, I'll come down with you. It's my mess too." He grinned lovingly and you gave him an appreciative kiss in response. "Thanks"

After you were done washing the dishes and organizing them back into their respective places, the two of you went up to your room again. "I'm sorry for the interruption." You looked at him apologetically

"It's ok, we can pick up where we left off some other time right?" He asked all hopeful and giddy.

"Yes, of course." You went to the bathroom and undressed. Putting on one of your favorite slip dress. Maybe you weren't going to have sex tonight but you could still give him a view. Hunter peeled off his T-shirt and jeans and tucked himself in bed, sniffing your pillows before you came back in.

"I'm sorry. It is so warm. I'm going to boil if I wear the T-shirt..." He spat out distractedly as he saw you come closer to him.

"That's ok. I want you to be comfortable." You were holding his gaze and you could see his eyes all too obviously roaming your body. Your hair was down, the skirt of the gown ending only a couple of inches after your thighs. One of the straps had slid down your shoulders and the material of the dress was leaving pretty little to the imagination.

Without a beat, he grabbed you by the hips and positioned you on top of him, your skirt riding up and revealing more of your skin to him. Both of your straps were slightly off your shoulders now and your breath had hitched in your throat. "Hunter.."

"…You said you weren't ready.." you uttered as his lips came down to your neck, not so tentatively this time, not caring at all whether he left a mark. You gasped loudly at this action.

"I can still make you feel good, right?" He said in a hushed husky tone. "What else are a guitarist’s fingers good for? Just don't make too much noise. I don't want your parents banning me from your house." He smirked and flipped you over getting on top of you. You had never wanted him more. You bit your bottom lip. You were getting so wet just by listening to him talk.

He continued kissing and sucking on your neck and slowly touching up your thighs, scratching them, making you hiss. "May I?" He said pleading.

"Ye-yes... Please do.."

He was getting so fucking hard seeing you like this. But he wanted to prove himself to you. Show you how much he values your pleasure over his. He started massaging your clit, warranting a gasp or two from you. As he found the right tempo, he could see you fully letting go, gripping tightly onto his biceps. Scratching him as you did, which he loved.

When he was sure you were wet enough, he inserted one of his fingers into you, hitting you just in the right spot. Your legs were shaking. You were nothing but a sweating, cursing mess under his touch."Fuck, Hunter, don't stop!"

"Not planning to."He dipped his head to suck on the upper part of your breasts and added in another finger. Pumping in and out at a steady pace he started moving faster into you, making you moan. Damn all of his experience plucking strings. It felt waay too good.

He thrusted into you faster, knowing all too well you weren't going to last much longer. He bore into your eyes. He could see you were close, you just needed a little encouragement and encouraging he was: -"It's ok, you can let go. Come all over my fingers. I'll lick them clean later."

That was all you needed to hear. You gripped him harder, pushing yourself up to crash into him, and bit down on his shoulder as you finished all over his hand. He continued fingering you until you came down from your high.

He removed his fingers from you and inserted them into his mouth, savoring every little drop of you. "You taste fucking amazing." He exclaimed as he bent down to kiss your lips. Your cheeks were red and there was no hiding it.

You held up a glass of water to him. You were mesmerized as if you were seeing him with new eyes. This was Hunter, your presumed ‘just friend’. The one who had just made you come and put you on cloud nine. After he gulped down his water he asked with a concerned expression: "Did I do well?"

You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him gently. “Yes, you did fantastically." You smiled into his lips and he smiled too.

The metal aficionado was extremely geeked. Reviewing his notes every day and replaying the time you had spent together in his head constantly. He was trying to be slick, but he wasn't sure how long it would take before he crumbled.

He had fooled you. Unbeknownst to you, he had no intention of even entertaining the idea of getting with his so-called ‘groupies’. He wanted you to be his teacher because was only interested in pleasing one person- you. Studying what you desire and what puts you off.

It probably sounded a bit scheming but he couldn't just go up to you to confess that he liked you, you know, as a normal fucking human being would. He didn't even want to fully admit it to himself. Emotions were tricky for him and so were for you. The situation wouldn't have gone anywhere if he were to breach the gap with you not returning his feelings. No, he needed a plan to make you want him too and he was willing to do anything to achieve it. That's why when you finally followed up on your next lesson, he was ecstatic.

"I'm gonna come by your place later tonight."

"Cool, text me when ur close." He wanted to sound nonchalant but he was freaking out. Acting like a fangirl watching fancams of one of her favorite kpop idols. He was so giddy and happy that even his father got worried.

"What the fuck is that squeaky noise coming out of your room, kid? Are you ok?"

"I'm doing amazing birth enabler! Also don't just pop in the stairway without announcing yourself. I could be wanting my privacy."

"When you get yourself a fancy house with a pool, music studio, three bedrooms, three bathrooms, kitchen and living room by cutting and filling up tits is when you will be entitled to your privacy."

"I know you would rather be FEELING up tits instead-but if I were to properly think about doing some of that myself I would still need my fucking space, so leave! Now!"

"I'm paying your therapist way too much!"

"That's all of the precious boob money for you!" Hunter screamed annoyed, trying to sound witty while he heard a different set of footsteps down the stairs.

"I'm sorry, did I come at the wrong time? I texted you ten minutes ago and rang the doorbell but you didn't reply so I let myself in. Oh, and hello mister Sylvester."

"Well hello to you too, looks like some people your age still have manners, Hunter! Always a pleasure to have you home, darling. I wanted to say I'm sorry about your aunt… It's terrible what happened to her. You know you're basically family so if you ever want to have a breast augmentation, I can make you a deal for the implants afterward. With a chest your size, not too big to be a burden to your back but still eye-catching enough you should keep the volume so..."

"Father, get the fuck out! And stop staring at students’ tits!"

"Don't get ridiculous Hunter, she is like a daughter to me. I would never.. anyways I think I have some work to do. I'm gonna leave you kids to it." He replied as he not so discreetly winked at Hunter

"Fuck... Fucking finally. I'm so sorry! He was incredibly fucking insensitive and creepy."

"He was staring directly at my chest, like eyeing it reeal good."

"Yeah, he is fucking disgusting. I'm so sorry."

"It isn't your fault; you don't have to apologize for his behavior. I'm fine."

"Do you want to come some other time; I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"No, I take all of my ventures very seriously. I told you I was going to be here so here I am."

"Yeah," Hunter said self-consciously, scratching the back of his neck. He noticed how pretty you looked. You always looked pretty, but you had gone out of your way to do so this time. With your hair done, make-up on, a familiar scent of your perfume drifting through the air and the pendent Hunter had gifted you for your birthday hanging around your neck. He was entranced.

"I don't think we should go all the way tonight. We are still testing things out, being in the beginning stages and all."

Hunter snapped back awake from his daydream."Mhm" was all he could muster. He wanted to go and grab you, kiss you right this moment but he couldn't just do that after his father's speech. He needed to get the mood going. "Firstly, do you want to listen to some music? You can play whatever you want. Even your shitty the Weeknd knockoffs."

"Chase Atlantic have some good songs, ok? And it's not so much about quality with them. It's about the vibe of it all. The experience. But that's a great suggestion for the occasion."

"I don't know, they sound like try-hard vampire wannabes."

"Yeah, that’s the beauty of it."

You turned on the speaker and played one of your playlists. For a moment you were somewhere else, mouthing the lyrics, humming to yourself, slowly rocking your hips in tune with the music as Hunter came up behind you and turned your head so you were facing him."Good thing you're also beautiful, otherwise I would never listen to that crap." He muttered in a hushed voice.

You mustered a barely audible "thank you" and he shushed you with his lips. It was hard to get used to. Him touching you like that, talking to you like he wasn't little old Hunter. The one you grew up with, the one you had known ever since diapers, but right now it was too hard to perceive him that way. You had already gone over the crossing line and there was no going back.

He held your hand in his and whispered into your mouth: "Do you want to come to bed with me? I promise I won't do anything to scare you off." Batting his eyelashes, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Do you even know how to?" You teased, feeling him come up against you again way more assertively this time.

His hands landed on your hips, yours entangled in his hair. His tongue slithered into your mouth, soft gasps escaping both of you. He was calculated at first, confident but measured until he got progressively hungrier for your kiss. As you started reaching for his back, pushing him closer and closer to you he deepened the kiss and began roaming your body with his hands. Your knees were getting weak just from the slightest touch. He was a virgin but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a hell of a good kisser. You started to lose balance. He prompted you up by sliding his knee between your legs. A dirty trick that was working very well in his favor.

You parted to get some air and he whispered again. "I hope not." You were flushed, all knots in your stomach and trembling pulsing sensation all over your limbs. He had turned you into jello just by kissing you and that did scare you because you didn't expect to feel this good, to want him so much.

"Lead the way." You your heart was racing.

Hunter grabbed your hand again and sat on top of his bed. To his surprise, you didn't sit next to him or opposite him. You made yourself comfortable in his lap, lightly grinding down on him. All of his confidence from before flew out the window. You looked at him with lust in your eyes, your lips forming a devilish smile as you scanned his face. He was getting nervous. He wanted to impress you and he loved every second of it but he wasn't expecting you to look at him the same way. He guessed you were committed to your job. He was speechless just looking at you, wanting to remember this forever.

"What are you getting so shy for, didn't you invite me here?" You grinned cockily "It's ok baby boy, I can do some of the work now. You just relax." You whispered into his lips kissing him yourself with none of the measure or sensitivity of some of your previous kisses. You were boiling from the inside. A volcano ready to erupt. You grinded on him wantingly, letting him feel the wetness seeping through your underwear as your skirt had ridden up your thighs, exposing them deliciously. He moaned in response when you pulled on his hair, nibbling and sucking on his lips and finishing him off by biting the lower one.

You being so desperately horny for him got him so incredibly hard. He was a mess under your touch but he needed you to be one under his as well. He couldn't control it anymore. He held down your inner thighs, squeezing them hard as his fingers dug into your skin. You gasped and moaned. He began sucking on your neck, leaving purple bruises on his path. He licked and kissed your calves and upper breasts as you purred into his ear."Hunter, this feels so damn good."

Electricity coursed through his body. He needed to have you all to himself like this forever. He gripped your hips hard, moving you on top of him faster and faster. He kissed you just like you had kissed him

before. With his lustful tongue making patterns in your mouth, sucking on your lips, and then biting you playfully. He put more and more speed in, feeling your heat press against his erection so violently. He was going to come; he couldn't contain himself but he needed you to come with him too.

"God, you make me insane. You are so fucking hot." He hissed while bucking his hips upwards, hitting your core in the most sinful way.

You could see he was close and you needed something to push both of you off the edge so without even thinking you whimpered into his mouth. "If you get this hard and desperate for me now, I could only imagine what you would do when you're stretching me out with your dick."

That was the last straw. He couldn't hold on anymore. He came under you, cum bursting all over his boxers and he couldn't be happier about it. Your legs were twitching as you came a second later, a vibration coursing through your body. You closed your eyes for a moment just to open them and to remember -you just made your best friend cream his pants and you wanted to do it again and again.

But then the sinking feeling came in. He wanted to do this as a form of practice for other girls. He was going to creep up under your skin, get to your heart, and then use all of the moments you've spent together to please someone else. Like it didn't mean anything. And the worst part was that this was exactly what you agreed to, so why did it make you ache?

Hunter was blissful. He was much closer to you than he had ever been before and it seemed like you were feeling this newfound closeness too, that you liked It, but this voice in the back of his head came back rushing in: "She is just following up on her promise. If she feels anything towards me right now, it's probably pity."

You slowly untangled yourself from the metalhead, got up, and straightened up your skirt. "Well, I gotta go now. Good job today, partner.. uh student." You gave him an awkward high-five and bolted out of his room.

Yeah, it was definitely pity.

#metal lords #metal lords hunter sylvester #metal lords fanficition #metal lords smut #hunter sylvester #hunter sylvester fanfiction #hunter sylvester smut #hunter sylvester x reader #hunter sylvester x reader smut #hunter sylvester x afab reader #hunter sylvester x afab reader smut #hunter sylvester imagine #kevin schlieb

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forcedtogrow · 2 months ago

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DAWG okay so masc transguy to masc transguy, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR ROUTINE

i haven't had regular access to a gym until now and i gotta get your physique man. i'm pre everything and i wanna make sure i have pecs post-top surgery someday it may or may not be so that i can pin my future bf to the mattress and plow him. if that means anything.

My current routine has been changing because I’m not patient and I very much like to push myself to the limit. If I didn’t have obligations to my job and people in my life I’d probably workout 2 hours a day, but that’s not the case. I worked up to this routine and am trying out higher volume right now, which seems to work for me. Also, my current split might seem weird because I don’t do shoulders and chest the same day, but I like to do them separately to be able to push myself as hard as possible on both muscle groups, which isn’t possible when I do them together. You need to do flat, incline, and decline bench for the results you want, period. The accessory stuff for chest is not that important which is why I don’t incorporate much of it right now, but I will throw in chest flys or something randomly.

Current 5 day split routine:

Upper Body Power Day:

Bent over barbell row 3x5

Pull up 3 sets to failure

Rack chin up 3 sets to failure

Decline dumbbell bench press 2x5-8

Decline bench press again but my palms are facing towards me, so the dumbbells are facing in at a V shaped angle (targets slightly different lower chest) 2x5-8

Triceps dip (weighted) to failure 3 sets

Seated overhead press dumbbell 3 sets to failure at weight 70% of my max

Lower Body Power Day:

Barbell squat 3x5, heavy as possible

Hip thrust 3x5, heavy as possible

Deadlift 3x5, heavy as possible

Standing calf raises (smith machine, standing on a platform so my calf can stretch down) 4x15

Leg extension 2x 12-15

Leg curl 2x12-15

Russian twist holding 35lb plate on a decline bench 2x30

Decline crunch holding 25lb 2x30 or failure

Hanging leg raise holding 15lb dumbbell between my ankles 3x15

Back and Shoulders Hypertrophy:

Bent over barbell row 6x5

Rack chin up 3x12 or more

T-bar row 3x12

Lat pulldown 3x10-12

Seated overhead press barbell 3 sets to failure (I find standing makes it easier, so I always do overhead sitting)

Ez bar front raise 3x12-15+

Reverse cable fly 3x10-12 or more if possible

Dumbbell shrug 3x10-12 or failure

Lateral raise 3x10-12

Chest/arms hypertrophy:

Barbell Bench press 5x5

Incline bench press dumbbell 4x10-12, very slow, take arms wide and to the lower chest, and press up at an angle towards upper chest

Incline bench press smith machine 2x10-12

Preacher curl 4x10+ (if I’m feeling it I might do up to 20+ reps right up until I’m afraid I’ll hurt myself)

Decline bench barbell (70-80% of max weight) 2x10

Chest press machine 2x12 or to failure

Cross body curl 3x12

Tricep cable extension 3x10-12

Cable hammer curl drop set, start at weight you can do 12 reps of and descend for 4-5 sets going to failure at each weight

Legs whatever day:

Barbell squat 7x failure for each set basically

Hip thrust 70-80% of max for at least 3x12-15

Calf press on leg press 4x15

Leg press 2 sets, but for each set do 10 reps and wait 20 seconds and do 10 more reps.

#ask #lifting routine #lifting advice #muscle encouragement

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tmwcs · 1 year ago

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Mermaids Tale FINALE!

It's here! so a quick note before you start reading, this originally had alot more to it and was going to be split into three finale parts (and eventually i will revise and do that) but i'm on a time crunch because i have to start preparing for school and there's so much work to be done (all the one shots and ofc HHP and TO) so i'm trying to get everything finished before i take a break to focus on classes and not leaving my wonderful readers dry with ongoing works, not to mention some family trips coming up is also going to take away my time from writing. This chapter is still good and has all the meat and potatoes, just...i wanted it to be way longer and add more to it. But alas! here's to another end of a great series (i really do love this series) sorry it's not proofread (i really wanted to but again...time is not on my side atm) I gotta get ready for TO and finish these one shots!

Warnings: Okay, seriously, this piece has some very extreme non/dub con content, so please please please if that stuff makes you uncomfortable in any way, do not read. As you all may know, yandere's have many methods in emotionally/mentally detaining their darlings, and sometimes (usually the westernized and more modern yandere traits) show yanderes physically altering/maiming their darlings from escaping (such as cutting off limbs) but i opt for the traditional yanderes that don't have any intentions of seriously hurting their darlings (not in that way) but they are still crazy and violate some aspects of human rights, non/dub con is the method they normally resort to in 'taming' their darlings and this chapter has that (a bit more strongly than what i've written thus far) so please do not read if this makes you uncomfortable. There are also mentions of murder, isolation, and kidnapping (you know...traditional yandere stuff) but i promise, regardless of what is mentioned, this is a good read. Please enjoy.

The two Adams engrossed themselves into a stare down, leaving you at a blind sight behind Heeseung while he stood as the blockade between you and the unfamiliar Adam. Their manner in communication became evident that the two knew each other, but how?

“Move aside, Heeseung.”

Heeseung didn’t move. He stood steadfast as his jaw clenched, he wasn’t going to let anyone come near what was his.

“I said move, boy! Or else—“

“Or else what?”

The man scoffed out a semi defeated breath. “Feeling brave? Or are we just putting on a show for the oceanic Angel?”

“She’s not yours. She never was.” Heeseung smirked out as he crossed his arms. You remained cornered, confused as you gazed on Heeseung’s backside while the other Adam looked over in your direction. His eyes were dark and rather desperate, desperate for you. Meanwhile, Heeseung remained composed and entirely too confident in his demeanor, what did he have up in his sleeve that would allow him to be so poised and relaxed when another Adam was vying for your ownership? You hated the thought of it but let’s be honest, that’s exactly what was happening before your own eyes.

“Tell you what grandson—“

Grandson?

“Let’s make a deal; you leave now, and I’ll give the entire rights to the corporation in your name. From there, you can have electric men under your thumb to search and scour every part of the world and bring back all the Sirens you want. You can have them all. Just leave this one with me, everything else will be yours. Deal?”

Heeseung remained with an everlasting smirk presently ingrained on his youthful face. “A deal, huh?” He calmly starts out with, seemingly considering what his so-called grandfather was pitching. Was he actually going to toss you off to this man? Why can’t they just leave you alone? You’ve done no harm to anyone, all you wanted, more than anything on this world, was to be free and swim off into the ocean. The waters your ancestors were born in, just a few hundred feet out from the beach rental you seemed to be stuck in.

“I don’t make deals. At least not anymore.” Heeseung’s tone grew wild with fury, his eyes darken and all lustful glaze disappeared as the matte black coloring took over, igniting a demonic appeal.

“What is wrong with you?! Are you fucking insane?! Heeseung!” His grandfather spat out of rage, completely dissatisfied with Heeseung’s tone.

“Yeah…I am.” Heeseung calmly denotes as his dark chuckle continues to grow into a crazed laughter. “I am so fucking insane, you have no idea! Ah fuck…” biting down on his lowe lip, he slurps in the bit of drool that leaks out; his appearance became too menacing for you to handle, so you shoved your face into the corner of the wall and cradled your sight from looking much longer at his face. The tone of his words weren’t very pleasing, despite covering your ears, you picked up everything he said.

With his arms still crossed, he elevates his hand, spreading his fingers violently as he buries his face into the palm, dragging it downward. He looked like a madman, so sadistically frightening as one eye peels through his knuckles. “I’m soooooo insane…because of her…I’ve thought of things that have never crossed my mind before. Because of her…I am willing to use my capabilities, not to help others, but to protect her instead—to keep her…ravish her…love her and thrust into her until she tastes every inch of me…to the point where she will someday share my level of insanity.”

What is he saying? You couldn’t believe your ears, this man has gone completely mad! You panicked as your body trembles, it was almost as if you had to root for the lesser of two evils, but you weren’t entirely sure which one of them was it. Was Heeseung’s grandfather? The man who looked dull compared to his grandson, who stood laughing maniacally, oozing out words that distinguished great mental distress for you.

“SHE…will be the only thing I live for…I’ll die for her, kill for her, I’ll skin the entire world alive just only for her…..what a fucking idiot you are, for ever thinking that a handful of Sirens weee ever worth trading her in. You could promise me an entire ocean filled with them and I still wouldn’t ever give her up…she’s nothing like the rest….she’s nothing like I ever seen…and she’s all mine.”

Heeseung turns to face you, at that moment you started to hyperventilate. His gaze was all too much, and you couldn’t bear the thought of what he had in mind to do to you. “All…fucking…mine…from the moment we first touched…” he takes his steps closer, you panicked. “Get away! Stop!”

His voice remains calm and tender as he continues to pierce your personal space. “From the moment we shared voices at that karaoke bar…”

“Stop!”

“And from the moment…I saw your face when—“

His words came to a pause, or rather, it was all replaced by a loud groan of anguish and pain. You looked up to see the other Adam, his grandfather, standing off to the side with the lamp post in hand. He had struck his own descendant, yet the expression of his actions quickly made you realize that he too, was afraid of the repercussions. He’s never seen his own relative like this, despite being an Adam himself, he never once became the way Heeseung had. It was enough for him to gain courage, and for once, gaining the intention to help release you rather than just keeping you for yourself. Sure, there was generations of instinctive nature between Adams and Sirens; the former being the most dominant and yearning of two, and while Sun Juan felt it within his heartbeat to keep and touch you, he was nowhere malicious enough to develop murderous habits as his own grandson spoke of. “Run…” he tells you. Shaking as he arms himself with the lamp post, while Heeseung stumbles towards the wall, gripping onto his head. “I said fucking run! Do you want him to catch you?!”

His voice was urgent, sending shivers to your spine as you quickly got up and exited the rental. Running through the hall, you leave behind a scuffling scene with the sound of masculine groans and shattered glass. As far as you were concerned, the two could fight it off and take their time with it, this was your chance to run…run to the sea.

You burst through the front door, and climbed down the wooden stairway, making a rounded turn as you ran outside the frontal perimeter of the beach house. You reach the back end, and there over yonder, you could hear just as clearly as you could see, was the raging water calling your name. You shuffle off your sneakers, and stripped off your blouse as you ran through the repeated mounds of sand. The sight of sea foam becomes clearer the closer you edge on to the shallow water. You could smell the salty air, the scene was exactly the way you remembered so long ago when you first visited…when you first found out what you really were.

Almost there.

So close, the dampened sand squished in between your toes and you could feel that tingly sensation come through. The nerves in your legs become blazed with overwhelming heat and pressure, it was discomforting and painful, just the way you remembered. You lose balance, and your legs become numb and weak; the denim of your jeans shred and tear as the dazzling scales reappear. After so many years, for the first time since your 15th year, you were�� changing back into the maiden of the sea. The remnants of your attire shred to pieces, and you discard what was left until nothing clothed you. Unable to walk, you edged closer to the deeper end as you used your upper body strength, and dig your fingers in the sand as you crawled towards the roaring waves, dragging your mermaid tail behind. Your fingers feel the smooth and flourishing rush of water feeding under your palms, easing your migration to the deep end. The image of your mother appears before your eyes.

Mama…I’m coming…I’m coming to find you.

……………….

“Gotcha!”

You screamed as you felt the sudden tug on your tail. A strong grip punches your scales as the weight climbes up towards your hips, waist, and rests around your shoulders. “Aaaaaah!!!! Stop!!! Let me go!!! Get off!! You can’t do this to me!!! Let me go!”

You feel yourself being lifted from the sandy shoreline, carried princess style as you are left helpless and immobile. The tipped edge of your tail fin drags against dry sand, indicating that you were being taken farther and farther away from the ocean front. You could feel the sensation of your nerves coming back to you as the scales on your bottom region start to dry up, telling you that you were soon changing back to your normal state. With pitiful sobs, you each across his broadened chest as he cradles you forcefully in his arms. You loop one arm around his shoulder while your free hand reaches out and grabs the air while the view of the shore slowly disappears.

“Please…..please let me go…let me go home….”

………………….

A year had nearly passed since the event of Heeseung’s duel with his grandfather, who had been dead since that night. You never inquired about how it all went down, after you rushed out of the house, all you knew was that the harrowing events from being taken from the sea, you learned that Heeseung had made special preparations in not only taking over his grandfather’s legacy, which included his entire corporation, but to eradicate all those closest to him. His great-grandfather, as you later learned.

You never met his brothers, since they too were Adams, Heeseung had taken precautionary measures to send them on assignments overseas once he manipulated the legal documents to have everything assigned under his name. His father, brothers, and the rest of the males that shared the same bloodline, all sent and kept far away from you. No one…was allowed to look, to touch, or to even dream of you.

……

“You’re all mine…now say it.”

As his words echo throughout your brain, you fall down in memory lane and recall the image of what you saw in the mirror that very night, after Heeseung dragged you away from the ocean waters, past the corpse of his mangled grandfather, and right into the shower.

That night…..

……………

“Please let me go! Let me go! You can’t do this!”

You grab onto whatever your fingers grazed as Heeseung carried you back inside the beach rental. The view of blood splatter on the walls told you of a brutal fight, one that ended with the elder Adam laying breathlessly on the floor. The sight of it all caused you to panic and about once more. “Let me go! I don’t want this! Let me go, I want to be free!”

By the time he enclosed you both in the shower room, your tail dried out, leaving you entirely nude as your legs returned. You cover yourself as you crawl against the sink cabinet, covered in semi-dried sand with your hair sticking to skin. You cry as you hear the latch of the door is set to lock, with Heeseung blocking it. He doesn’t say anything, at least not immediately. He looks over his shoulder and walks over to the elaborate stand in shower, surrounded by the glass wall. He turns the faucet and sets the water just at the right temperature; the screeching of the faucet dial causes you to look over, and to your horror you watch as Heeseung removes his own blouse, leaving only his wet jeans to remain as he flexes his abdominal muscles.

Once again, you hyperventilate as you dread what he was about to do. “No please….please…please don’t do this.”

He ignores your please and didn’t even bother to look your way, instead, he places his hand under the sprinkled rain drops under the shower head, savoring the warm temperature. “Come here darling…let’s get all that sand off you.”

You tucked your face away against the wooden cabinet door, when you hear his foot steps grow closer, followed by his harsh grip around your nude body. Still too weak from the transformation, you couldn’t stand let alone walk or run. You sobbed against his bare shoulder as you felt him lift and carry you over to the glass box. He sets you down on the tiled floor, recognizing that you were unable to flee. It only made this easier for him.

You lay mercilessly on the floor as the water washes over your body, your hair pooling around you gracefully. The sound of his zipper drawing downward, while the buckling of his belt loosens made you wince in fear as the weight of damp denim plops down on the floor became the icing on the cake.

“Please…”

Again, he ignores your pleas. You feel yourself being lifted from the tile floor and pressed against the glass, chest forward with his body plastered to your backside. You felt the warm droplets coating your skin, and his warm hands roaming every inch of your nude frame. He tenderly moves the wet pieces of your hair away from your neck, and latches his mouth on. Indulging the savoring sweetness of water and your own skin, he remains glued to you, all the while his hands continue to rub your waist and hips. He takes the girth of his shaft in hand, and begins stroking it as it pokes your derrière, causing you to cry hysterically as you felt the motions of his palm moving up and down. Releasing your neck, he finally decides to speak.

“How do I even begin to tell you…how often I’ve thought about you like this?” He breathes out heavily as he buries his face against the nook of your neck, taking your breath away as the sensation of his lashes, the tip of his nose, and his pursed lips pressed against your skin…it felt so…

“I’ve only known you for such a short amount of time…yet you had such an effect on me…you became the only thing I could think about…breathe in…and spit out.” He over exaggerates an inhale as he sniffs your skin, dragging his nose tip along your neckline, right up to your jaw, all the while he continues to stroke his lengthy member as it remains pressed against the plumpness of your rear end. “How do I tell you?….how?”

Your cries soften, maybe it was the way his tender words came out; so soft and calm through that deep and sensual voice of his. Perhaps it was the way he was touching you, a sensation you only felt with him, despite your reluctance, yet it felt like a blessing to your curse. No man could make you feel, make you realize or yearn, just his. To feel skin…to feel warmth of someone else’s body, or the shrilled coldness of their hands. To feel their lips as they adorn you with kisses, or the feeling of their breaths coating your ear when they whisper into it. To feel all of this for the first time, from not feeling pain, pleasure, or touch, to feeling it all at once it was…it was…

“I-I don’t know..I don’t know how…” you whimpered out as you find yourself submissively falling for his touch. “Please….don’t…” you beg one last time, giving it your last shot to stand strong, yet the soft desiring tone of your voice made it obvious—you already lost.

“Come here baby, let me show you.” He whispers from the side of your cheek, before he tilts you to look over shoulder and kisses you. The thick and lengthy muscle migrates from your rounded cheeks and probes through your thighs. Devouring you into a fierce kiss of hunger, you feel the rounded, bulbous tip of his cock breaching your entrance. You gasp out of the striking sting of pain as he pushes…more…and more. Finally, the tip breaks through and enters. With just the tip inside, the right sensation of your walls squeezing the life out of his head was already overwhelming and sensational. So much, that he had to pause and take a moment to gasp out his oncoming climax. “Fuck…” he breathes out heavily, all the while you remain in his right grasp wincing and trembling in pain. “You feel better than I imagined…how am I going to fuck you properly when you feel this good?”

“D-don’t…dont…” you gasp out as the pressure cause you to become incoherent.

“Hm? Tell me how.” He antagonizes, finding his motivation and senses coming back as he hears your helpless and whimpering pleas. It all fueled him to get more out of you. “Tell me how baby…”

He begins thrusting the remaining length of his shaft inward. He had intentions of starting slow and gentle, considering you never once felt the touch of someone’s fingers let alone tasting cock for the first time, but he couldn’t contain himself anymore. The screams of your beautiful voice bouncing off the tiles as he thrusted the leaked pre-cum to glaze your walls made it all too much for him to take things slow. No, he had to go in hard, deep, and fast…he needed to fuck you. It was in his nature, he needed to breed with you, dip deep into your belly where he was going to release his entire lust and create the product of his love for you.

For you, the sensation started out too conflicting. Initially, you were disgusted and angered by the fact that the man had restrained and forced you into this, yet the feeling of touch…something your cursed lineage prevented you from indulging, was starting to make you feel differently about him. The feeling of touch, skin on skin contact was already something you hadn’t gotten used to, but to feel it from the inside…to feel his own extremity pulsate, throb, and twitch inside your womanhood as the faint remnants of first blood dripped down into the drain. The sting of pain and discomfort fades, and you feel a tingle knot formulate. There was an intense pressure in between the folds of your cavity, something that was only satisfied as he took each thrust and pelted you with his violating member. It felt glorious, of all the sensations you could feel for the first time, this was something that, now you’ve experienced it, couldn’t live without. No matter how rough, dementing, and crazy he was, you couldn’t help but yearn more for his touch, his licks, and those devouring kisses. He leans in, pressing your breasts and palms agains the glass wall, and there before you was the large mirror hovering above the sink. It displayed the reflected image of your united silhouettes behind the steamed glass; his shadow showing the motions of what he was doing from behind, as he thrusted and held onto you tightly. The nipples of your breasts and prints of your fingers were the only thing that could be made out clearly as they smudge and smear the glass, succumbing to the bouncing motions of his sickening pumps of cocking you.

You weren’t sure how you felt about the reflection, normally, you would have cried and shuttered your sight away from it, but the longer you admired it, the more it caused you to feel….strange…almost funny….like you wanted to watch…you wanted to see more…you wanted him to do more…it was an internal feeling you’ve never felt in your life, yet here it was overcoming your better senses. You found that, in this moment, nothing mattered to you anymore. You didn’t care about preserving your pureness, about escaping, about your freedom…you didn’t care. Perhaps you’ll regret saying that after he’s had his fille with you, but for now, all you could think about, was…

“Ah! Oh….oh God!”

“Yeah?” he pants vigorously as he hastens his thrusting motions. “You like how that feels baby?”

“Mmmmm……y-yes…p-please!”

“Please what?”

“Please….m-more…more! Please….do more….please don’t stop…whatever it is you’re doing….d-don’t….stop….dont ever stop…”

He buries his nose into your neck and kisses you with the most tenderness since having you in his grasp.The way you breathed out, with your voice echoing in his ear, begging for him to merge with you forever…it was all he wanted. It’s all he needed. It was all he lived for.

You dont know how it was possible, but he quickens his thrusts yet again, the sound of skin on skin slapping rigorously, with splats of water droplets flying all around as he continued to fuck the leakage of his essence inside you under the rainfall shower head was something you never knew you’d cherished and desired.

He goes faster…deeper….harder. “Oh fuck.”

“P-please!” faster..

“Shit…y/n…” deeper…

“Oh my God what is happening!!” you scream as you feel a rage of nerve pinching pleasure that causes you to slide against the glass. In fact, had it not been for his hold on you, you would have fallen long before when he first started pelting you with his length. You jolt upwards, yet his grip ceases you from leaping too far; he wasn’t ready to take it out, not yet. “Shh…take it baby… just like that.”

You whimper out climatic moans as your toes curl against the hard tile. What was this feeling? What just happened? What was this heated warmth that leaked out of you? This sensation? What was it that you felt filling your gut?

Your breasts squeak against the glass as you slide all the way down, He barely has the strength to hold your waist, shaking at the knees while he releases inside your walls. His groans calm to a deep whimper as he breathes against the back of your neck. He finally did it. He finally became one with the love of his life.

……………………

You snap out of the memory as you hear him enter the bedroom. He comes in quietly, giving you an adorn gaze as he removes his blouse and tosses it over the lavish seating chair. He reaches up, and unties his black tie, lids growing heavy as he looks with an endearing expression. It was a look that triggered another memory, one that occurred some time after he took your virginity and made you feel touched in a way that you never knew existed…

………..

“Crying again? It’s been months now, do you plan to cry forever?”

“Please…I just….I just want to be free again….why does it have to be this way?”

“I told you darling, you can be free from the chains when you learn to behave.”

“But….I…I dont….I can’t….Heeseung please….”

“Come on, remember all the times that I made you feel good? You like it when I do that, dont you?”

“Stop! Please, I dont want that right now. I want to be free. I want my old life back.”

“Baby…i told you. You belong to me…you are all that i’ve got…and I’m all that you have.”

You remember how his words cut you deep, causing you to cry not because of fear, but because of the truth behind them. He was right…so right.

“You lived your entire life with multiple identities to keep your lineage a secret. To protect your parents, siblings, and yourself. By doing so, you cut ties with your brothers, your father passed on, and your mother is lost at sea….you have no one, darling. Just me. And you truly love me, you just don’t realize it yet, which is why you have to stay locked up for a while.”

He rubs your hair in between his fingers, slowly raising it to his nose as he gently inhales the scent. He rubbed the smoothness of your strands against his cheek, indulging you, as always, giving you the same look…that he was giving you right now. Except now…there were no chains…no locks…no barred windows and concrete walls. There were no steel doors and sound proof glass. Now, you were a doll living in a life of silk and chiffon, dazzled by this man’s affection. You were always under his watchful eye, and forever entrusted by his top guards whenever he wasn’t present. You were his…all his. After a year of emotional and mental torment, you gave up and realized that, not only was he right about having only him, but he was the perfect match for you. An Adam…with the gift of longevity and supernatural abilities in the water, which only meant that whether it be land or sea, you were never far from his reach. He would always find you, and bring you back. You’ll never know what became of your mother, if she was still roaming the sea for you and her ancestors, and you’ll never know how your brothers are doing, because the world is no longer yours. You were a pearl trapped inside a shell, forever protected deep inside a sea of warmth and comfort, his comfort. Leaning against you, he pulls your backside against his chest and embraces you, as he does every night. Kissing your neck, he chuckles as he breathes over your ear. Faintly pointing over towards the opened cracked window, with the curtain dancing against the breeze, he whispers…

“Can you hear the ocean, my darling Siren?”

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