#don't breathe x reader

[im-his-druidess]

Excuse the depraved thinking here but I just had to share this little "thought" with you...

Being in Norman's care (i.e. locked up in his fuck-nest) and having to watch him...umm...re-fill the specimen containers he keeps in that little freezer.

Hearing his growling and groaning, maybe grunted curses as he works himself, and you are strung up and utterly helpless to do anything else but watch him...

This is a slasher blog. All depravity is welcome 😘

Ooohhh I like where you going with this, Nonnie! And I also love the term "fuck-nest" 🥵

But just imagine hanging there, helpless and unable to move an inch, and not only can you see him jerking himself off but you can hear it too. His low grunts, panting breath, and raspy moans. The way he outright growls when he squeezes the fat head of his cock on every upstroke. And then you watch as his hips jerk and the way his back arches. The way his muscles flex and strain as he pumps himself. (He might even get a little "assistance" by using your underwear. Either wrapped around his cock or pressed against his face 👀)

Then he's coming with a rough guttural noise that both drags against your eardrums and send goosebumps across your skin. He's panting and cursing, the sound of skin slick against skin loud and lewd and makes your own hips jerk in response.

Of course, since the "batch" is so...fresh...he'll want to immediately put it to use 😌

[nariism]

you're mad at him.

you're mad at him and he knows it. you've been giving wriothesley the silent treatment ever since you arrived at the fortress of meropide, bandages in hand and a flurry of curses erupting nonstop from your mouth.

not a single word has been uttered between you since you sat him down in his office. despite refusing to speak to him, much less look him in the eye, you're dutifully bandaging up his raw knuckles like you remember sigewinne showing you back when she decided to go on vacation.

"it's very easy," her voice rings in your ears. you bite your tongue to prevent yourself from snarking back at her imaginary presence.

you only hoped she was enjoying herself up on the surface, accompanying neuvillette for the first time in ages. while she absolutely did deserve a vacation, you wished that she had given wriothesley a stern set of instructions to take care of himself in her absence.

if she did, maybe you wouldn't have had to come all the way down here just to witness him in such a state. your poor heart can't take this kind of worry.

the warden has come out the pankration the most unscathed, only sporting a split lip and bloody nose. his knuckles are red and cut, but it's nothing in comparison to the two inmates who had decided it was a good idea to incite a riot in what should be a controlled environment of the prison.

physically, he's fine. emotionally, he's having a complete meltdown.

he can't take this silence anymore; can't bear having you be upset with him, knowing that he should have been more careful about rushing in to stop the riot himself. the prison is crawling with guards for a reason, yet in his haste he decided it would be faster to intervene alone.

"hey," wriothesley calls out softly, timid despite his looming presence over you. "i didn't mean to worry you or–"

"why can't you be more careful?" you suddenly interrupt, voice cracking weakly. you gaze up from where you're kneeling on the floor, bandages halting in the air while you challenge him with your eyes. "don't you know how stupid and reckless that was?"

he holds your stare for a few moments, stunned by your sudden rebuttal. and then you tear your eyes away from his again, focusing back on tenderly wrapping up his hand.

"you always make me so worried staying down here day and night," you continue, voice so quiet he can barely make out your words.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly.

"i know you're strong. i know it. but you're not invincible. would it kill you to cherish your life a little more?"

"i'm sorry," he says again.

you falter, a sigh escaping you as you peer up at him again. there's something softer in the way you look at him now, with all your frustration melting away into concern. you rummage through your bag for a wet wipe before standing to cradle his face.

wriothesley can't breathe when you're being so gentle with him. his hands find your waist and squeeze it to draw you even closer, until he can almost rest his head against your stomach.

"i love you," you finally tell him, and he feels the relief wash over him. "i can't stand seeing you hurt, so please be more careful."

you swipe the cloth under his nose a few times, gently dabbing at the skin and cleaning up the blood that has dried there. his steely eyes drift shut under your warm touch, allowing you to clean his face. when he only nods in response, your hand stops.

"promise me."

he looks at you again, a brow raised at your stern tone. but he would always relent to you, no matter what it is you wanted.

"i promise."

you blink down at him for a second, taking in how beautiful he is underneath his bloody nose. finally, you lean down to kiss the top of his head— a gesture of forgiveness and love that he's grown so accustomed to.

there's sunshine in your smile when you pull away from him to discard the used wipe, all previous signs of anguish gone from your expression.

his heart nearly stops at the sight.

you were right. he should cherish himself more. he can't stand seeing you fret over him even if it is a little endearing.

for now, he'll just enjoy having you take care of him. it's been so long since he returned to the surface, all he wants to do right now is bask in the light you bring down here with you.

"oh nurse," he teases, giving your hips another squeeze. "my lip got busted, too. got a remedy?"

you roll your eyes but press a kiss to his lips anyways.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[a-mint-bear]

Yandere Girl Types

The Super Fan

● She can't help but trail after you like a lovesick puppy. She looks at you and everything you do with the rosiest of rose-colored glasses. Whether you're the talented type or just an average person, she looks at you like you are her everything, because you are!

● Whenever you're together, she's a little clingy. But it's nice to have someone who likes you as much as she does. It makes you feel special, wanted. She's not shy about making the first move, and she's especially not shy about telling you how she feels. But she makes sure you know that you don't have to say it back if you're not there yet. She knows you will though. Soon.

● She sits and smiles at the pictures of you all over her room. Anything you've touched, she considers her greatest treasures. She saw you drop your favorite pen one day and meant to give it back to you, honest. But the moment she touched it, it was like something came over her. She stuffed it in her bag and took it home, and ever since, she can't help but take your things. Especially the stuff that smells like you. She keeps taking more and more of your things, but it's not enough. It's never enough...

● She makes copies of your keys when you "lose" them on day. At first, it's just to sneak into your place and take things she can't get otherwise, but it quickly escalates. She lets herself in and plays house, imagining your life together. Soon, she's watching you sleep and even lies down next to you, just for a little bit. She wants to touch you so badly...

● She wonders... if you woke up, would you smile like you always do? Would you hold her close? Would you be hers?

The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

● On the outside, she's the nicest girl. Whenever you see her, she's always got a sweet smile on her face and is always willing to help you if it means she gets to spend a little more time with you. You think of her as the kind and generous type, but she doesn’t extend this behavior to anyone but you.

● She doesn't really seem interested in dating. Anyone who actually has asked her out gets turned down gently. But a few of them swear they could see a look of disgust flash across her face for just a second before the rejection, but they always thought they just imagined it. In reality, there's only one person on her mind, so no one else can even compare.

● No one sees the other side of her. The way she stares down the girl who always laughs at your jokes. How she swears under her breath when she sees how your best guy friend just casually touches your arm, how her nails dig into the palms of her hands until they bleed. But when your eyes meet hers, you’d never guess the things she’d just been imagining.

● She hears a rumor that someone is going to ask you out. At first, she just plans to put them in their place and remind them that you deserve better, maybe just harass them or scare them. Or maybe ruining their life a little, poisoning their friends against them or getting them fired. But the thought of them getting pity from you or running to you and telling you how she acts when you’re not around… The thought of you holding them close, telling them you how much you love them... Something in her just snaps. She catches them when they're isolated and gets rid of them. Nothing can ever be traced back to her.

● She can't risk you seeing her in a bad light, even if it's so the two of you can be together. Everything she does, it's all for you!

The Secret Admirer

● She's had a rough home life. She has no one in her corner, no one's been there for her. She doesnt have anyone she can call her own. Until she sees you for the first time. Something about you is just... right. You fill that empty spot she's felt her entire life and the thought of you is the only thing that makes life worthwhile.

● She's quiet, reserved, and always looking your way. You can feel someone watching you sometimes, but when you turn around, no one's there. You don't connect it to the girl you've seen around lately. It doesn’t matter to her how you treat her, whether you say hello, smile politely, or give her a look for staring. Any attention, good or bad, is everything to her. You're everything to her. But she can't tell you, not yet. If she messes it up, if you reject her... She couldn't live with that.

● You start noticing things. Little gifts someone has left you, sometimes snacks and treats. The book you've been reading suddenly has a pressed flower inside the front cover, baby's breath. You find love notes in your bag. Some are flowery poetry, others get a little steamy, but it's all a bit clumsy, somehow. At first you think it might be one of your friends pranking you, but no one you know would pull something like this. Maybe someone actually has a thing for you? But how are you supposed to respond when there's no way to give anyone an actual answer? You decide to just ignore it until this person actually decides to meet you face to face.

● You don't smile when you see her gifts anymore. The notes she pours her heart into get left where you find them. Seeing you just walk away when she does something for you shatters her. Love her, hate her, anything! Just don't ignore her!! Without you, she has nothing to live for... Please... Don't leave her behind. Through her tears, her agony turns to desperation.

● You can't get rid of her. She won't let you. Maybe... it's time for you to meet.

The Boss Lady

● You've been working under her for the last few years. She's powerful, she's beautiful, and so very, very intimidating. She gets what she wants, no matter who she has to step on. She seems to have locked onto you for some reason, having you run and get her things and having you stay and work overtime.

● She seems to like running you ragged and seeing you flustered. You have half a mind to believe that she’s been “accidentally” brushing up against you reaching for files or leaning to talk in your ear as you sit at your desk, her charming, sultry voice sending shivers up your spine. Your damn body is betraying you. You don’t want to think that damn tyrant is attractive! Your coworkers are jealous that you're spending so much time with her, but you think they'd think twice if they were the ones picking up her dry cleaning and coffee orders, day in and day out. You tell a coworker you'd quit, but you need the money too much.

● One day, she calls you into her office. She says she has a proposition for you. She wants you to be her executive assistant. It comes with great benefits and a HUGE pay raise. The work will be harder, sure, but you'd have to be an idiot to say no. But the conditions get more specific and odd. You would accompany her on all her business trips, eat all your meals with her, you'd even be living in her penthouse suite. At first, you think it's just a weirdly intensive position, she just needs someone to manage her life. But the way she's looking at you... it's like she wants to possess you entirely.

● All you can think to ask is, why you? There's a bored look on her face as she starts talking about her career. How her job and climbing the corporate ladder were the only things she put any effort into. Everything else was so tedious and dull. Until you started as an intern, dropping off her coffee order with that nervous smile. She started noticing how hard you work, how you never turn down her requests, how you try to hide your smile when she praises you... How your breath hitches when her hand brushes yours. And how, every day when you clock out, her world stagnates until she sees you again.

● Say yes, and you'll have everything you could ever want. But make no mistake, you'll be hers. And she has no plans to let you go.

[multific]

Newly Found Happiness

Norman Nordstrom x Reader

Summary: Norman thought he only longed for the child he lost, but then he found you. You opened new doors for him.

A/N: Inspiration for this fic came from @purplelupins please check out their work as well. 

Warnings: age gap, mention of abuse, smut

Norman was extremely suspicious of you. Every movement you made, he was listening closely.

Every night, he barely slept, waiting for you to make a move or run.

You often went to the bathroom, which caused him a great fear, fear that you would run. But you never did.

You were the girl who offered yourself to him, being in an awful financial position and an abusive relationship, it was easier for you to become Norman's.

"I'll bear your child, but please don't lock me up here all alone! I'll be good I promise! Please don't leave me down here."

Norman himself wasn't sure why he listened to you. Why he believed you, but he did.

He let you roam his home free, with a shock collar around your neck nonetheless, but you were free.

And you were good.

So good to him. 

He honestly thought you were playing it up, but no, it was who you were.

You cooked, cleaned and helped him even when he didn't need your help. You insisted on helping him wash because he did the same.

This far, you didn't manage to get pregnant, sadly, not like you two weren't trying.

Sex was very essential part of your relationship with Norman, and if you were honest, you found yourself falling for the man quickly.

One evening, you pulled him close, moving to sit on his legs, ready to remove his pants when he stopped you.

"Your period is close, the chances of you getting pregnant are low." little did he know you wanted him that night not to get pregnant but to enjoy your night. 

You pouted as you fell asleep that night.

Of course, he would be tracking your period. He paid attention to everything. 

But once your fertile window was open, oh boy, man couldn't stop. For an old man, he sure had great stamina. 

One morning, you went to the kitchen, ready to start breakfast when you saw the back door was open. You looked behind yourself, around the corner but found no one inside.

"Norman? Did you leave the door open?" you yelled but no answer came. You looked out the door but saw no one. "Norman?" again, nothing.

You looked around, then inside.

Then a cold shiver ran down your spine, what if something happened?

Where did you see Norman the last time?

"Norman!" you ran upstairs, into the bedroom and bathroom but found no one. "Oh please! You heard me when I slightly knocked the picture on the wall, Norman please!" you headed back to the door, taking a step outside and honestly, it felt bad. You looked around but took no further steps.

"Girl?" the voice came from inside and you swore you nearly punched him for scaring you.

"I-I found the door open... I didn't know what was going on."

"I left it open for the dog."

"Oh. Okay. I thought someone got in." you let out a sigh and headed back inside, opening the fridge and getting the eggs.

Norman said nothing. He only listened as you moved around. 

He wondered why you didn't run. He made sure to give you enough time. But instead of running, you started looking for him in panic.

He moved behind you, raising a hand and getting the collar from you. You looked at him with a confused expression, wondering why he removed it.

"You won't need it anymore." you didn't even realize that this was a test. He wanted to know if you will run or not, and you didn't so he trusted you. 

"I'm making scrambled eggs."

"Perfect." 

---

After that day, his relationship with you really took a turn for the best.

He allowed himself something he didn't for years, he relaxed and leaned on you.

He let you do things for him, he now willingly went into the shower to allow you to wash him, and he did the same while placing kisses on whatever skin was in front of him. Which usually ended up being your shoulders.

It was nice to see him behave so softly and kindly. It was definitely a side of him that he hid away from the entire world and you were definitely glad you got to see it. 

These days, when you woke up in the middle of the night, he no longer worried about you running away.

He found himself more worried about your safety than anything. He walked around the house trying to find a way to make your living more comfortable. 

He heard you making small noises in the house, you often did that, so he would know exactly where you are.

And he liked it.

It was one of the small things you did to keep him happy and content. 

He loved how gentle you were, he could sense in the beginning you would flinch often when he moved suddenly, no wonder with your past. 

So, he paid more attention to not move suddenly or in a certain way.

Even sex like this became a lot better.

He would be gentle as usual but now, you would have more and more sex. It was no longer just about the child he longed for. It was fun and passionate.

The man knew how to use his tongue for sure.

He would say he liked you very much, you would say you were in love. 

And your love soon took fruit.

You started to feel ill a couple days ago, you even missed your period, but you didn't want to get your hopes up.

With a pregnancy test in your hand, you went into the bathroom, and you came out two minutes later.

You let out a long sigh.

Negative.

False alarm.

Only an oven, no buns. 

I made you very sad.

"What's wrong, Sweet?" he asked during dinner.

"I for sure thought I was pregnant, but the test said negative."

"Tests can be faulty, maybe we should take you to a doctor to double-check."

"I didn't want you to pay for the bills."

"Nevermind the bills, if you feel like you are pregnant, it is worth a check, we go tomorrow."

No point in arguing with him.

---

One oven, one bun. 

The doctor confirmed your feelings were right. You were indeed pregnant, the test was wrong. 

You looked at the ultrasound in your hands as you stood outside the hospital.

"Norman... we have a baby."

"So I have heard." he said as he stood beside you. "Wish I could see it, can you describe it?"

"It's like the smallest little bean. Definitely looks like you."

He laughed a little.

"How can they look like me if they are only a bean?"

"Mother's intuitions."

He smiled. "I hope they will look like you. I just know you are beautiful."

"Oh?"

"The lady at the reception, gasped when she saw you."

"Maybe she wasn't expecting me to be with an older man?"

"No."

You laughed and grabbed his arm, walking him back to the taxis.

"Now you have a room to decorate." he said as he sat in the back with you.

You gave the address to the driver who took off.

Norman held your hand the entire ride, and couldn't hide his smile nor could you.

As you both headed home, you had a really good feeling about your future but it is how it was when you were with Norman.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart​​ @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​​ @stunkbiggu

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK

[slxsherwriter]

Out of Trauma Comes....

Fandom: Don't Breathe

Pairing: Norman Nordstrom x reader

Warnings: Child death, loss of limbs, ptsd struggles

Word Count: 4,076

Author's Note: I have fallen down the Stephan Lang rabbit hole. This is the first in a series of Norman one-shots. Reader does have a military background. This decision was based off of the relationship that Norman had with Hernandez in the second movie. Hope everyone likes! As always, not beta read, so mistakes are mine.

You woke with a start, gasping for breath that wouldn't seem to fill your lungs. For several agonizing seconds, it felt like it would never happen before finally, your body kickstarted itself. The silence of the room was only broken by the brief choking gasps of air as you tried to regulate your breathing. Then your ears registered the frantic beeping of a heart rate monitor. Your own. Forcing yourself to take a few slower breaths, it calmed down as you managed. Stiffness below reminded you that you were stuck in a hospital bed. Right. The accident. 

With a grimace, you forced yourself into a seated position. The pain was a worthy distraction, taking your mind off the vivid flashbacks that played before your eyes. Like a bad horror movie that you couldn't pause. 

A nurse came in, far more quickly than they had the past three weeks. Must have been fewer patients on the floor for them to monitor. When you had first arrived four weeks ago, despite your status, it had taken time for them to show up. 

“Everything okay?” No, nothing was okay in the least about the entire situation. Swallowing down the words, you found yourself giving a shaky smile. 

“Yeah, fine. Just a bad dream.” PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder, that's what it was. You knew well enough to recognize the signs after seeing some of your closest brothers go through the same thing. “Sorry, didn't mean to cause any worry.” She gave you a softer smile, one that felt like pity. You hated every second of it. Of all of this, if you were honest. You wanted to be back home, away from the world and everyone in it. Why should you have lived?

 “Not a problem at all.” She checked over your IV line and monitor before moving to the door, taking her leave. But before she fully left, she looked over her shoulder. “From what I heard, you're getting out of here tomorrow.” There may not have been a God but that news could have brought you to belief. 

“Thanks…for everything.” 

*****

Using the crutches to get into your home, you grunted with the effort. The cracked ribs were healing and could bear the brunt of your weight with some protest and discomfort but you weren't hanging around any longer than absolutely necessary. 

A chill ran down your spine and the urge to look at the street was almost overwhelming. But you knew what you would find there if you did. Just repeated flashes of blood, broken glass, and phantom pains. Unconsciously, your jaw had started to clench, something you only realize when you heard a small crack. 

“Fuck.” The word bounced through the empty house. A slow sigh and you were moving to the staircase. Life now had a whole new set of obstacles and challenges. Ones that you couldn't have ever dreamed of if one were to ask you. Yet, here you were. “Don't have a fucking pity party now. Get your ass up the stairs so you can take a proper shower. Then, you can check on Norman.” it was the right thing to do. You had heard from your older neighbor just once in the entire time you had been in the hospital. Understandable, given the circumstances and what he had to be dealing with, but it didn't quell the drive to follow up. Having been a neighbor for the better part of five years now, you had grown close to Norman and Emma. Just the thought of the girl was enough to constrict your throat and threaten to have tears spilling from your eyes once more. 

White knuckling the crutches, you slowly made your way up the stairs. It was both painstaking and painful but there was a small sense of accomplishment when you hit the top landing. One thing out of the way, many many more to come. No use in getting too excited over it all just yet. The shower was the next thing to tackle. 

***********

Having only fallen once, the shower could be considered a success. Dressing wasn't as difficult as anticipated, the bed that you had easy to get on and off of with the wall right there that you could brace yourself against. Now, down the stairs? That was a whole other ballgame. Slow, very slowly, you worked down each step. It probably would have been easier to admit defeat and go down on your ass but that stubborness that often got you in trouble decided to rear it's head. This was life now so it wasn't like something that you wouldn't have to get used to. Might as well start that right now.

The shower made you feel a bit better. Something about being able to shower at home, in your own space, with your typical washes and shampoos just did something different than when you were stuck showering in a hospital. While you still were in tremendous discomfort that bordered on pain that was barely tolerable, you still felt better. Plus, being out of those hospital clothes just helped give a little mental boost. 

Tossing a jacket over your shoulders, you opened the door with a slow breath. The street was quiet, just as it often was. There were so few left in this neighborhood, the stranglehold of the economic crisis squeezing life out of Detroit day by day. Those that remained were too headstrong to go more than anything else. You and the man across the street had that in common. Not the only thing. The memory that came of the first meeting had you wanting to laugh. It was either laugh or break out into tears because the bad came rushing hard. Shaking away the thoughts as if the physical action could dislodge and remove those mental images. 

The walk across the street didn't take too long, though getting up his steps took a few moments. It seemed that Shadow knew of the presence on the porch before you could even knock. The bark that came from inside was excitement, something recognizable and in a way somewhat comforting. It was normal. Routine. Despite the fact that nothing about this would ever be the normal that you both once knew. There was no answer to the rap of knuckles against the wood. Not for a minute. Or five. 

A part of you wondered if you should just leave him be. You had your own trauma from the entire thing but his loss was so much greater than your own. A leg compared to a child? No comparison. Still, something rolled in your gut at the thought of leaving Norman to his misery, grief, and pain. You had been alone in the hospital. Being alone and isolated was never good. So, that thought made you knock again and call out. 

“Norman?” Your voice nearly cracked and you had to take a second to take in a breath. The situation called for composure. Letting your own emotions shine through wouldn't help the moment at all. “I'm sure you don't want to see anyone right now…” What words were supposed to be spoken for this sort of thing? Huffing out in frustration, you stared at the door. 

“Can you please let me in? You don't have to talk. I know you aren't alright, I wouldn't expect you to be but seeing you would at least settle my own mind. Please?” Maybe appealing to that part of him would get the older man to agree. Another few moments passed, bringing about a sense of defeat. This wasn't something to barrel through, to hit head on like a bull in a china shop. If Norman didn't want to see anyone,you couldn't force your presence upon him. At least not with his house closed up like this. Just as you were getting ready to turn around, locks disengaging rang out and the door opened. Shadow's bark was significantly louder, the thump of his tail against the door frame audible. 

He looked rough, like he hadn't been sleeping. Something that was relatable. More than that, it was in the way that he held himself. A man defeated had a certain posture after all. An awkward silence fell over the two of you as you stood there before the door opened a bit more and he stepped to the side, a silent signal to come inside. The crutches hopefully made enough noise for him to be able to keep his feet out of the way as you entered the home, as mindful of where you were placing them as you could be. The last thing that was needed was for you to cause a physical injury to the man. 

“When did you get home?” 

“Today.” A grunt was the response that you got and honestly, you hadn't expected much more. The house was dark, though it didn't matter much to Norman and you weren't going to say a damn thing. He led you to the kitchen, where he was having some coffee from the smell that lingered in the air. 

“They have her in jail.” That perked your ears up as you eased yourself into the seat. Crutches were kept close by just in case quick movement was needed.

“Good.” Your voice had come out firmer than intended. But really, it was where the young woman deserved to be. She had killed someone, not just someone but a child. All because she had been stupid about drinking and driving. Frankly, at this rate, she shouldn't leave. Two lives permanently altered in ways that could never be repaired by one decision of a third party. Maybe it would have been just injuries to you and Emma if you had moved faster. Hurling your body in the way of the oncoming car in an attempt to get the girl out of the way or at least shield her to some degree had been an instant reaction. If only it would have worked. 

Clearing your throat a little, you tried to shrug off the anger that had been growing in presence day after day for the last two weeks. “It's no less than deserved. The police hadn't been by to talk much to me besides that first week I was actually conscious. I've been a bit out of the loop on what is happening.” The idea of checking your phone had fallen to the wayside in the focus of getting ready to leave the hospital. He set a cup of coffee down in front of you without having asked. The warmth of the cup seeped into your chilled hands, causing you to close your eyes for just one moment. 

“She'll rot in jail.” She better. But it wasn't like a trial was going to happen any time soon. Those things took time. An extended amount of time, with additional suffering to come for the both of you. Norman fell silent for a long while, staring off in that unseeing fashion of his, eyes seemingly focused just above your right shoulder. What more was there to say?  “You're on crutches.” An observation without any real direction.

“Yep.”

“They wouldn't give you a prosthetic?” 

“I opted not to get one right away. Getting out of there and home was more important to me. I have an appointment set up in two weeks with a physical therapist and someone who can fit me for one.” Your voice grew softer for just a second, obvious to the both of you. Was it self consciousness that caused it? A worry of bringing up something that would upset him? 

“And your other injuries?” A wince that you were thankful could not see came before you could stop it. A feeling of guilt crawled the back of your throat, robbing you of your voice for a mere moment. 

“Things that will heal with time. Some medicines for the rest of my life.” And the daily reminder that you just hadn't acted quick enough. Something that would haunt you every time you looked down and saw the empty space where your right left should have been. “All things that I can manage.” He hadn't said anything about himself, about how he was dealing. Poorly. There was no need to put a word to it but hearing it would at least lead in a direction of knowing what to do to help him. He was deflecting, though you had pleaded with him to let you in on the basis of not having him talk. Silently, you were able to reach out and carefully curl your fingers around his hand. For a brief moment, tension wracked you as the expectation of him pulling away reigned up. Instead, there was a slight tremble and he was curling his own fingers in response, squeezing her hand tightly. 

*****

Daily trips over to Norman's became routine. It was good for the both of you, in all honesty. Getting out of the house instead of sulking around and wallowing, despite arguing that it wasn't a pity party, did you no good. And the same could be said for the older man. A familiar motion that helped dictate the day and forced the both of you to keep to a schedule. He was a little more open in talking about it, letting you know what the detectives had to say and where everyone was at with the case. You couldn't speak to the sinking feeling that rolled in your gut any time that it was discussed but it was shoved to the side and never mentioned. The man had enough stress. 

He was good for forcing you to talk about where you were at with your physical therapy and the prosthetic. You had been fitted for it several weeks ago. Things weren't one size fits all. The molding process had been interesting, with a reassurance that it would be correct once it came in. And finally, after a long wait, it came in two days ago. You hadn't realized physical stress that just the therapy would have you going through, let alone the entire concept of learning to walk again. Because that was what it was. Relearning to walk. Balance would be all new, weight shifts entirely different, and movement to adjust to when it came to walking. 

There had been an argument between yourself and your therapist that had left you stewing, in a rotten mood that was volatile at best. Norman had realized something was wrong when he ran into you while out walking Shadow. Shadow, as always, let out that excited bark and his tail started going a mile a minute. It was not acknowledged on your end and the silence was clearly enough of a tip off for him.

“Did it go that poorly today?” You jumped, startled by the comment, and the fact that he had engaged when you hadn't said a damn thing. A huff was the only response he got for a long moment. 

“I ended up in an argument with my therapist.” The words were a little sullen. Not typical at all. He waited patiently, not saying anything else, forcing you to elaborate. Pulling the information out of you without being too forceful but with the knowledge that he could be as stubborn as you. “They wanted to keep the prosthetic there until I properly learned to walk….” The words caught for a moment, not wanting to admit to struggling with it. Everything about the weight distribution felt wrong to your body. 

“I wanted to be able to bring it home so that I can work at my own pace, without all those eyes on me.” He hummed for a moment, not saying anything else right away, mulling over the information as his hands folded over top of his cane. 

“They let you?” 

“Yes.”

“Then why are you sitting here?”

“What?”

“If they let you bring it home, why are you sitting here and not walking?” The words that your therapist had said rang around your head. Coupled with the frustration over the entire situation, you had opted to sit and stew in the anger. It was easier. Mentally and physically. Still, Norman was right. And if there was one person in the world that you couldn't argue with right now, it had to be Norman. That sight less gaze seemed to settle on you, his head ever so slightly tilted, listening for your reaction. You knew the signs well enough by now. “Get your things and come over.” Now, that was entirely unexpected. Realizing that he was serious, you pulled yourself up and moved to grab everything into a bag.

*******

Norman knew his house intimately, which is the reason why he chose to do it in his space rather than yours. Every uneven floor board that would cause a balance shift, which wall would easily be reached as a brace if falling down. And how to move easily through the space, forcing you to move after him. Like a game of chase. An annoying game of chase.  

But there seemed to be a method to his madness as you were starting to get the hang of movement. It wasn't just walking in a straight line. No, this was actual movement, natural in hoe you would operate day to day. There were plenty of stumbles, sending you crashing down to the hard wooden floor. But the gruff responses demanded that you get back to your feet. 

Exhaustion began to tug at the edges of your consciousness. Muscles ached and protested each movement as they strained further and further under unfamiliar stress. The stumbles became more common and that sense of anger came rushing back, but along with it an embarrassment that you weren't picking up as fast as you wanted. That you were looking like a fool in front of Norman. 

He had demanded that you attempt the stairs. Well, more like a suggestion without room for any argument. It took effort to even think at this point how to shift your weight and the movement needed to swing your leg. Norman was close this time, closer than he had been while moving throughout the house. A brace of sorts, just in case there ended up being a tumble down the stairs. 

The first step was managed well enough, the second with a little more difficulty but by the third, your body had decided that it had enough. Thankfully, you want tumbling forward instead of backwards into Norman. Your fingers scrapped against the wood of the stairs, a shaky breath taken as your throat constricted for a moment. 

“I think that's enough for today. Come on, let's get you resting.” The raspy, grizzled voice of the older man was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality at this point; grounding you in a way that let the desire to scream, to cry, to throw things fade into the background. You were tired, hurt, and angry. But the warm hands against your hips helped to guide you back to a standing position. “Think you can get back down? Or do you want the crutches?”

“Might as well try.” The stairs were narrow, so Norman couldn't stand beside you. But, he stayed in front of you despite the risk of being toppled into, hands remaining against your hips to help act as an extra brace. The stabilization actually helped as you managed to get down the two steps, nearly sagging into the wall to your left. The older man had the audacity to chuckle. You wanted to be upset about it but found that you didn't have it in you. 

“We will work more tomorrow.” 

“Norman, you don't have to…”

“I'll stop by after my morning walk with Shadow.” You knew the routine well enough after all. When the man had his mind made up, he was all but impossible to deter. It was in that moment that you realized his hands were still pressed against you. A fact that you hardly minded. They weren't moving and neither was he as he was still crowded close. The presence was both exciting and comforting. You would be a liar if you said that he hadn't felt attraction to the man, had since you had first met. But it had never seemed appropriate. 

“Okay.” Again, it was an argument that wasn't going to be winnable. His mind was set. This close, you could see the way that his lips seemed to twitch upward, the hints of a smile present. And in response, you found yourself mirroring the expression. “I'll be ready.”

“Good.” With that confirmation, he pulled you away from the wall, as if you were nothing more than a feather in his grasp, one arm sliding around your waist to help you keep your balance. “You can take it off on the couch. Do you need to do anything with it now?” 

“Gotta make sure I don't have any blisters, pressure patches, or breakdowns in the skin.” That was easy enough to focus on, even as the warmth of his body beside yours was making it difficult to focus. “I'll clean up when I get home and use the cream that they gave me.” He helped you get settled down on the couch. 

“Can I?” His hands moved forward before hesitating. You hadn't had anyone besides the doctors and nurses touch the area. You hated having to do it yourself. But, as he waited for permission, you found that you couldn't deny the request. 

Carefully, you took his hands and guided them to the prosthesis. Norman moved his hands slowly over the entire thing, kneeling beside the couch to be able to trail them down to the foot before back up, all the way up to your thigh. 

“They did a good job.” Again, the touch lingered. For a second, you swore he could hear your heart racing, the almost unsteady beat loud in your ear. The moment was far more intimate than it had a right to be. Were you reading into it too much? Maybe. Norman hadn't exactly shown all that much interest in anything more than the steady friendship that had formed between the two of you.

“Yeah.” Finally, he pulled away and inched up to settle onto the couch beside you. The entire world felt off kilter, in an entirely new way. “Yeah, it's supposed to ultimately function better than some of the older models. I didn't exactly understand the technical stuff on how the knee hinge works but I know it cost the VA a pretty penny.” 

Carefully, the process of removing it was begun. The movements were still a little foreign to you but something you were getting the hang of; eventually they had said you would be able to do it in your sleep. Norman's fingers wrapped around your forearm, squeezing lightly. Actions paused immediately, you glanced towards him, trying to determine what the touch was for. 

“Give yourself a second.” You didn't understand what he meant. “You're shaking. And I can hear the little noises of pain.” You hadn't realized that you were even making noise, and now that he had pointed it out, you could feel the tremors in your hands and arms. He had noticed it all before it had registered. 

After a few moments, the process was finished and you tucked the prosthetic in the bag, along with the sock. The skin was a little red and there were some indentations along the pressure points but overall, nothing looked worrisome or terrible. Thankfully. 

“Better?” A rush of gratitude welled up. Shadow nudged your hand on the other side and in that moment, you realized that just as you hadn't wanted Norman alone, you weren't either. Swallowing hard to push back the emotion and chalking it up to the exhaustion that you were feeling, it took a second to respond. 

“Yeah, better. Thanks, Norman.” Unable to help it, you found yourself leaning into him just a bit as you scratched Shadow behind the ear. It didn't feel like it was too much or stepping over the line after the way that Norman had been close before. Hopefully, that wasn't too bold an assumption. For a second, it may have been when he seemed to tense before you could feel him relax. The final reassurance was when his arm curled around your shoulders, an unfamiliar but incredibly comforting weight that brought a smile to your face.  

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Part 2 of the one shot.

Warning. Smut!

Yandere Norman Nordstrom x Younger Female Reader

Kidnapping and obsessive love.

Romance. Women loves romance. Norm smiled at the thought of you blushing and giggling. Maybe if he goes to the store and gets some fresh red roses. He doesn't use candles since he doesn't really care about perfume scented air much. So, he should get some too at the arts and crafts store.

Watermelon or strawberry scented candles. Both would be nice. Nodding in determination, Norm sat inside his Lamborghini and then suddenly an emergency alert came from his cell phone. Out of fear, it showed you running away from the mansion as you destroyed the bathroom window. All his windows were bullet proof except the window in the bathrooms because sometimes his security dogs would jump over them to come inside the mansion.

You slick cunning cock!

Gritting his straight teeth in anger, Norm drove as fast as he could while watching his cellphone screen. You were running across his large front garden so you can reach his neighbor's mansion.

He can make it. He then realized how dark it was and that the full moon gave him advantage to spot you from the distance.

Ungrateful bitch. He didn't rape you or hit you minus the times you attacked him. Like biting his tongue when he was trying to French kiss you. Or when you kneed him in the balls. Ouch. That Fuckin' hurt. It didn't hurt as much as the pain inside his chest. You broke his heart again.

You collapsed on your knees from all the running. Tch. Pathetic Norm thought. You were so damn spoiled and weak that you never exercised unlike him. You were not averagely healthy or athletic. He doesn't need his car. Norm turned off his car and jumped out and ran at full speed.

"Huh?" You looked over your delicate and frail shoulder to see your kidnapper! How did he find out?

You tried to get up but he tackled your lithe and supple body hard against the grass floor hard. You tried to scream but suddenly, he slapped you!

You yelped in pain and then stared up to see his handsome face looking at you in anger.

You clutched your face despite making the pain worse. You froze your resistance and then silently sobbed. You didn't want to make him more mad by crying loud so you tried to hide your hiccups but it was no use

Norm's beautiful blue eyes widened in shock. He stared at the back of his hand in disbelief. He hit a woman and not only that. The woman he loved.

He watched in pity as you slumped and didn't fight back as you cradled your injured cheek. If he wasn't sure ashamed of his harshness he would have thought of you trying to be quiet from crying oddly cute.

But, now he felt regret. Without a word, he slung you over his muscular shoulder like a sack of potatoes and you didn't kick or wiggled like the previous times you ran away but was captured.

You gave up.

And he knew.

He didn't mean to break your spirit. But, you were so scared to give him a chance. That was all he wanted.

He went to the entrance of his mansion greenhouse at the center of his front yard garden. He kicked the door open and slammed you down on the floor to sit on your ass. You hissed in pain.

You looked up to see his powerful figure fuming and looking down on you. "Why?" He hissed through his teeth. "I gave you all my love yet you reject me. Why do you resist me? I'd die for you."

Your lips trembled in fear. Norm wasn't having it. He clenched his jaw.

"Why!?" He roared.

You flinched. "I..." You hiccuped and felt tears down your beautiful sculpted cheekbones. "I can't love someone I fear."

You saw that your words hurt him. A Navy Seal was wounded by a weak and spoiled lady like yourself. How strange.

"You don't get it, do you?" Norm's voice cracked as he looked away for a second and then you saw his saddened expression. Your heart burned at the sight.

"I love you, Dammit!" He punched the glass wall of the greenhouse. You yelped. You saw the glass shatter and his fist bloodied. "My life was better before I realized you exist. You ruined my life!"

You sniffed. "I am sorry, Norm." You looked at the ground.

Norm sighed in exhaustion. He then crouched down on one knee to your level and grabbed your chin gently despite smearing your chin with his blood from his injured fist.

You blinked in curiosity. He smiled a little as he unbuttoned his shirt. You couldn't help but stare. His top body was carved like Roman sculptors of Ancient Greek Gods. Ares especially. The God of war.

Holy shit.

You ogled. Norm liked that look on you. He knew you were getting horny. But his body was not all he had to offer you.

There across his chest was bold calligraphy letters of your name. How long was it there?

He did all this for you? He was serious about you.

He grabbed your hand gently and placed it over his heart.

It was dominant and strong like his body and personality.

"I can't control the pace of my heart whenever I think of you. Pity me at least." He pleaded you with large puppy blue eyes.

You felt your womanhood wetten and your throat dry. Is this love?

Norm was waiting for your response. To his surprise and pleasure you leaned your beautiful face close to his pink dry lips.

"Same." You whispered.

Norm couldn't believe his ears. This was a dream come true. You kissed him. Holy shit.

Without a second, Norm kissed back with fever and he grabbed your head and lashed his tongue inside your mouth.

"You're mine now." He ripped your nightgown off. Surrounded by plants in the open air being watched by the full moon was a fairy tale where you lost your first time.

After done, Norm carried you bridal style to the bedroom he shared with you and while you were spent, he drove to the emergency room for stitches.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hiii! Love your work! So ever since that episode Chigiri calls Isagi attaboy, my brain has been just in there. So could I maybe get some good old, fast, maybe a little rough Chigiri calling reader Attagirl? Maybe a little bit of degradation too. Like being mean maybe

This man lives in my head tent free jdkdkd

“You dumb whore, instead of complaining can’t you put your mouth to better use?”

You knew from day one that Hyoma is a moody guy and you also learned how to deal with him, but today he really reached to apex, mood swinging back and forth and you were way too angry (and horny) to deal with it; thankfully Hyoma followed your lead.

Your mouth now kissing his boner through the fabric of his boxer, you can feel it twitch already, his hips grinding into your mouth begging to feel your mouth without any barrier.

It’s funny teasing Hyoma when he is in such a bad mood, but you are human too. You pull his dick out, usually, you would kiss the tip and lick slowly the shaft with the utmost care, but today isn’t the right one for such a nice treatment. You take as much as you can, moaning around the shaft.

“Ah finally” Hyoma groans. He then grips your hair, something he usually wouldn’t do, and forces you to take him all, your gags and tears make him just more aroused. He keeps you there for a second, enjoying the tightness of your throat, then let you go.

Tears running down your face and a string of spit connecting your abused mouth to his tip; a picture that is going to be framed in his head for a long time.

“Just say you wanted this from the start you bitch” A nasty snark escape his lips.

Hyoma grabs one of your hands and guides it to his thigh, a silent promise that he is gonna stop at the first tap, then he pulls your head again and starts fucking your face.

“You take it so well – You feel so good, fuck”  His words only spur you to do better, laving your tongue on the sides of the shaft as good as you can, your mouth making wet, sinful noises every thrust.

“K-keep going for a little bit more”

You nod, as best as you can since he is still keeping your head in place, the vibration making a delicious shiver run down his spine.

“Atta - attagirl” This time it’s your turn to feel the shiver; it is so good to be praised.

“Goddess, c-can I come on your face?” Hyoma moans, the aggressiveness of earlier almost vanished.

This time you don’t have time to answer, Hyoma already pulled out, jerking off at the sight of your tears, snot, and overall miserable face. A few more pumps and you found your lips and cheeks stained by strings of his cum.

“W-was it too much?”

“You were just perfect”

“Give me a minute and get on all fours, it’s time for me to reward my good girl.”

[imliketheiceifreeze]

Norman Nordstrom x reader

A rose by any other name- part 2

Warnings: Violence, smut, age gap, abuse, abduction, minors DNI

1,916 words

You'd walked past his house many times since your last meeting, However the old man never seemed to be home.

'He probably thinks your some kind of creep.'

You thought to yourself as you rounded the corner to his house for the fifth time that week. Obsession like this isn't healthy and you knew it, your parents always wondered what you did on your little walks around the block, you could never tell them it was to satiate your fascination with a 70 year old man, they'd surely look at you like some kind of mental patient.

A strong arm around your waist ripped you out of your thoughts as another held what felt like cloth to your mouth. An acrid smell filled your nostrils as you struggled against the limbs that caged you to no avail.

"Shh sweetheart, don't fight it."

A voice you vaguely recognised growled into your ear as the world around you went dark and you collapsed into the stranger.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You awoke, shivering cold, laying on what seemed to be a bed. As you slowly took in your surroundings you quickly noticed you wrist was tightly handcuffed to the bed-post. You struggled against it, wearily, knowing deep down there was no use in fighting. However, the noise seemed to alert your captor, as heavy footsteps rapidly approached the room in which you lay. Deep dread filled your body as your breath caught in your throat. You couldn't believe who stood before you-the white beard, the scar underneath his vacant eye. It was him. It was Norman.

"You're awake, good."

He spoke matter-of-factly, slowly approaching the bed to which you were bound.

"Now don't struggle, I understand this might be difficult for you to accept but just let me speak for a moment."

The irony of your silence didn't escape you as he sat beside you on the bed, feeling around for your leg before patting it warmly.

"I intend for you to be my wife and eventually, I hope you will bear me the that child I lost. I know this won't be too hard for you considering your feelings for me..."

You were gobsmacked. Was this some kind of sick proposal? However, another twisted part of you felt delighted at the lengths this man would go to to have you, something you weren't used to considering your average looks and demure personality.

"Are you being serious? You're going to lock me up here like some kind of dog, let me out you sick fuck!"

You spat at him, partially in anger but mostly powered by fear as you gripped onto your cuffed hand, yanking it with all the force in your body.

"Hmm."

He grumbled, gripping your leg more harshly making you yelp in pain, stopping your struggle with the cuffs to grab his hand in an attempt to stop the pressure.

"So you were just leading me on with all that bullshit then? You act like that around every man you meet like some kind of whore?"

He spoke bitterly

"Norman!"

You exclaimed between breaths,

"This is not exactly the way you go around asking a girl out you know."

You huffed, eventually managing to pry his hand off your thigh.

"But I can keep you safe in here, you really want to live out there where people steal, murder..."

He trailed off sadly, making the sympathy bubble in your gut. For fucks sake am I actually sympathising with the man that has me tied up in his house right now?

"Norman,"

you breathed again, leaning to rest a hand on his shoulder. You could see the pain in his eyes, the world had taken so much from one man, who would you be if you couldn't provide him with some form of comfort? He faced you, confusion set in his face,

"please let me go. I'll stay with you, I won't leave, but I have a life too, a job. It doesn't mean I'm going to disappear."

You spoke it softly, rubbing your thumb against his shoulder like you did that day.

"How can I believe you?"

Fear laced his words in a way you didn't expect was possible from a former Navy Seal.

"Believe me, believe my words. Keep a tracking device on me, stalk me, tattoo me as yours, I don't care. You can do what you want but don't keep me tied up like an animal Norman, how is that any way to treat someone you want as your wife?"

This seemed to shift something in him and he reached for his pocket, you stilled in fear wondering if you had gone too far, until you spied the shining metal of a key. He leaned over you, feeling around your wrist and hand until he could push the key into your cuffs, freeing your bruised limb, before he sat back defeatedly, gesturing to the door.

"Go on then, aren't you gonna run?"

You ignored his words and leaned up on your knees, reaching out for his shoulders to steady yourself. He raised his brows in shock but allowed you to continue your ministrations. Tentatively, you reached for his white beard, stroking it softly between your thumb and forefinger, eyes flicking down to his lips.

"I told you I'm not going to leave didn't I?"

You murmured before leaning towards him, capturing his lips against yours, feeling him tense against you. It was a chaste kiss and you held his face in your hands, stroking his cheek, feeling like this was the only place in the world you belonged. Finally you felt his hands around your waist, holding you strongly against his chest.

"You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it you stupid old man,"

you chastised before leaning in to kiss him again. This time his lips moved against yours, holding you tight like he might lose you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the feeling of his beard tickling your cheeks. You couldn't help but moan as you felt his tongue work its way into your mouth, heat pooling between your legs as you shifted against him in attempt to relieve the discomfort. He grunted, stilling your hips and pulling away speaking lowly, his husky voice causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin.

"don't do that, or I wont hold back."

Your eyes practically rolled into your skull as you whimpered, burying your head into his shoulder, trying as hard as you could to move your hips against his vice like grip as your pussy clenched against nothing. Hoping to sway him, you pressed soft kisses to the junction between his neck and shoulder, moving up towards his ear, sucking occasionally which earned you a growl from him and a slap to your thigh. This only served to turn you on more, the heat of the moment causing you to lose all sense of what was rational.

"I don't want to hurt you Y/N,"

he murmured, one hand finding your hair and rubbing circles into your scalp.

"I know you won't, besides, I want this."

He groaned, leaning his head back in frustration whilst you contented yourself with running your hands down his broad chest, fingering at the exposed skin of his lower stomach.

"Isn't this the real reason you had me tied up in your bed?"

You asked, the sultry tone surprising even yourself.

He growled in return, breaths growing heavier whilst you continued to kiss up and down his neck and chest. Suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed harshly into the mattress, Norman's weight settling above you and pinning your arms over your head.

"Don't start something you can't finish little girl."

You were too stunned to reply, only able to allow him to roam your body with his free hand, trailing along your exposed thigh in the tight summer dress you wore.

"Is this what you wanted hmm?"

He asked lowly as his fingers finally pressed against your core, feeling your throbbing heat, barely covered by soaking panties.

"Shit, you always get like this?"

He asked incredulously, leading you to mutter a small no as you watched his face contort into a predatory smile. He pulled you into a passionate kiss, running his hand up and down your folds, eventually casting aside your underwear to tease you further. You gasped has he circled your clit with his thick fingers.

"tell me to stop."

You replied with silence, which seemed to be enough to crack his tough resolve. He pulled down your dress to expose your breasts, cupping them with his rough palms as he kissed and nipped at your neck, his other hand continuing it's assault on your weeping pussy. It was all too much and you gasped and moaned wantonly, tears forming in your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure.

"This is all for me isn't it?"

He growled, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"yes!"

You cried out as you felt his other finger prodding at your entrance,

"it's all for you, only you."

You trembled as you felt his finger slide in easily, pumping in and out slowly as he added a second. Your moans grew louder and you bucked your hips to keep up with his rhythm. Slowly he began to kiss down your body, sucking on your tits before eventually landing at your pussy, open and ready for him. Without warning he dived in, grabbing your thighs for purchase as he slurped pornographically at your sex. You covered your face in embarrassment at the sight before you, it had you almost coming instantly. His mouth and fingers worked you like an instrument, not seeming to mind as you trapped his head with your thighs and grabbed at his soft hair, arching into him with each pump of his fingers. He had managed to work four into you at this point and satisfied himself with sucking on your sensitive bud.

"Please, please please,"

you chanted, writhing beneath the man you had fantasised about for years.

"Please what baby?"

He questioned as if there wasn't one obvious answer.

"Please let me come,"

you breathed, scratching at his scalp, toes curling.

"You can come whenever you're ready sweetheart,"

he hummed against your pussy, pumping you faster whilst his lips continued their magical torture.

"Ughh-hh-ahh."

You choked out, shaking as your high hit you like a train, barely aware of your pussy squirting all over Norman's face with every blissful contraction of your body.

"Hmm that's it baby, let it all out,"

he murmured, fingering you through your orgasm. Your mind was blank as you fell back into the bed like a rag doll. You felt the bed dip as Norman laid down beside you, pulling you into his body, fingers tracing the skin on your arms. Eventually your brain began to be capable of forming thoughts aside from your orgasmic bliss, allowing you to realise Norman hadn't had his own release.

"Let me help you,"

you lazily reached behind you to feel his hard cock straining his trousers.

"Shh go to sleep,"

he grunted, kissing your shoulder.

"Are you sure?"

You questioned, knowing you were too spent to be able to do anything but lay there as he took his pleasure.

"Yes, you can make it up to me another time, just go to sleep for now,"

he replied firmly, cradling your body in his arms as you allowed sleep to take over your body knowing you were utterly fucked in more ways than one.

[strawwritesfic]

Joel x Female!Amputee!Reader: (Don't) Hold Your Breath [Ch. 10]

Summary: You’ve made a lot of monumental mistakes in your life. Cutting your arm off isn’t even at the top of the list. Now you’re about to learn a lot of life lessons at the hands of your savior and her brute of a guardian–and they’re not about to let you learn them the easy way either.

Challenge: "#32 in His Rulebook" by Edible Heart Monster on Lunaescence Archives

Rating/Warnings/Tags: M (post-The Last of Us; excessive swearing; sexual references; violence against children; infected children; references to abortion; references to cannibalism; references to starvation; references to riots; implied domestic abuse; implied grooming; implied sexual relationship between an adult and a minor; death of a parent; violence; gore; blood; gun use; ableism; amputee!Reader; enemies to lovers; not canon compliant)

Pairings/Relationships: Joel/Female!Reader; Tommy/Maria; Reader/Male!OC; Ellie & Reader; Ellie & Joel; Ellie & Maria & Tommy

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Master List (with important note!)

Rule #10: Again, the enemy can hear you, so shut up.

Even when things were going terribly, somehow night watches still gave you comfort. Your eyes itched with fatigue and your muscles twitched in protest, but those were small prices to pay. You liked the dark and the quiet of early morning watches. You liked being in charge. In this world, you couldn’t trust anyone but yourself.

That was not to say that night watches weren’t boring as hell. You’d drawn the second watch that night. The only sound in the dilapidated room you sat in was Ellie’s quiet breathing. She’d woken you up two hours ago just as Joel left—to do what, he had not bothered to explain to you. Probably to see if he could find a way out of the quarantine zone. Four days stuck in that dingy apartment building, with, sure enough, a box full of infection scanners, but with a dwindling food supply and nearly no water.

You stretched in an attempt to get rid of the growing pain in your ass. Sitting all day long, trying not to move or make noise as the temperature dropped toward freezing, wasn’t much of a holiday in your book. Your movement did nothing but move your legs enough to stir the three Molotov cocktails sitting around your feet. Joel had stopped long enough to give you instructions: if anyone came, you were to lob those bombs at the doorway and get out with Ellie through the nearby emergency exit. Not exactly a shining tribute to your abilities, but it was actually the first time he’d willingly left you alone with her, though you chalked that up more to desperation than to any burgeoning respect he had for you.

With a stifled sigh, you shifted enough to look at Ellie. Despite the deep shadows of the room, you could see the dark marks of the clicker’s fingers on her neck. In the daylight, the bruises remained purple-yellow. Sometimes you caught Joel staring at them, somehow intent and soft at the same time, like he wanted to take them on himself. After the roof incident, Joel hadn’t spoken for a very long time, not until Ellie and he went off somewhere to have a private discussion.

He really was desperate, you thought, but for Ellie, not for himself. It was a weird thing to notice, and a weirder thing to be in the earthly hell humanity inhabited. Especially weird was the fact that Ellie didn’t seem desperate at all. Even as the days whiled away with no chances of escape, she remained as glib as ever. Ellie always controlled situations; the situations never controlled her. Even at fifteen, she just sort of exuded the feeling that she knew what she was doing. You wondered if you’d looked that impressive back when this all started. No. You’d been entirely out of your mind with fear. Out of your mind for four long years, only to come out sane enough to die.

You turned away before you could think more good thoughts about her. The last thing you needed was another tagalong kid to break your heart over. But even as you thought that, you relaxed a bit in the darkness and flipped back around. This was familiar, staying up in a dark room, with your stomach cramping and your brain wild with responsibility and anxiety. It was as though you had been transported back to those first eight months after you’d escaped the Northern California Zone. There you were, thrust again into a realm you had no training for, but that you had to stand up against for the sake of a child.

Your eyes settled briefly on the bandages wrapped around her arm. She never took them off, and you’d known her long enough that you wondered why. Most of the time, Ellie acted like they didn’t exist—unless she was looking at the infection scanners. Then her fingers would contract around the area as though she couldn’t keep them from doing so.

Shit, you were getting sentimental. Where the fuck was Joel? In a sudden fit of impatience, you twisted upward to peer out the grimy window. Nothing outside moved. At least you could be confident that Joel wouldn’t leave without Ellie—but that didn’t mean the gang in the zone hadn’t got ahold of him.

A burst of cold flashed across your skin as you hastily sank back down onto the dirty floor. If that was the case, what could you do? Joel doing the job instead was something you preferred. Though you couldn’t be certain, you thought you might have recognized a few of the shouts during that firefight.

If that was the case, and Joel really had got himself in trouble—

No. That couldn’t happen. If anyone could elude those guys, it was Joel. After all, he and Ellie slaughtered that entire camp almost a year ago, hadn’t they?

And why the fuck should you care anyway? If Joel got himself eaten, or even just staked outside the doors to serve as warning, that could only benefit you. Ellie was still green enough that you could probably get away from her. In fact, if Joel died, you’d bet your instant coffee Ellie wouldn’t be able to function when she found out.

Patience is a virtue—your dad had said that like it was going out of style. War, he told you time and time again, was spent mostly in waiting. The stretches where nothing happened were the worst, and if you wanted to keep your head, you learned how to stay calm during them.

You’d never managed to learn that particular lesson.

Sunrise would be several hours more in coming. You shifted a little in a vein effort to make yourself more comfortable. In the process, you knocked over one of the cocktail bottles. With a whispered expletive, you lurched forward to steady it—with your missing arm. It clattered onto the hard floor, and you stiffened instantly. They hadn’t found you yet, and you felt almost foolish.

Then you saw a circle of light quivering on the wall outside your room.

“Hey, man, I think I heard something up here,” you heard a man say.

“Probably the fucking rats. This place hasn’t been used in a shit ton of years,” a second man answered.

“Yeah, and we don’t know where that fucker and his girl went. Wouldn’t this be a good place to hide?”

“I don’t fucking know, dude. I just want to finish this and go to bed.”

“It’ll only take two minutes to check. You want me to tell the boss you let these guys go?”

“You want her to flay me alive? Man, I thought we were closer than that.”

“Ain’t got time for closeness in this world. Let’s go.”

Shit. Ellie remained asleep directly in front of the door leading to the flashlights. Only a few torn pieces of furniture stood in your room, and none that you felt safe enough to hide behind. The lights down the hallway danced across the window behind you. Your hand wrapped around the neck of one of the bottles as you tried to decide whether or not to wake Ellie.

You decided just as two men, one stocky, one with a dark shadow of hair on his chin, appeared in the doorway. They only had time to spot the slumbering girl on the floor before you launched the glass bottle with all your might toward them. Even as weak as you were, the distant was not so great that it didn’t reach. Flames burst upward, licking the wooden doorframe. Unfortunately, the makeshift bomb hit neither of the men.

“We got ‘em!” shouted the nearest man, the one with the naked face. The fire made his features blur in the surrounding darkness. You held your breath as you stared. The fire wouldn’t last forever, and you only had two more cocktails. But now they knew you were armed.

“Go tell the boys. I’ll hold them here,” he said.

The second man didn’t bother to respond. He disappeared back down the hall. The first man grinned widely at you and switched his flashlight off.

“You ladies are fucking fucked.”

“You’re fucking fucked,” you snarled. Fear clouded your ability to come up with anything cleverer. The fire by his feet began to die down. He noticed this as well, and in the moment it took him to take a step, you tossed the second bottle.

It struck him right in the chest. Maybe he had been too busy smirking to swat the cocktail away. Maybe you really had caught him off guard. Whatever the reason, the result remained the same: the man burst into flames. He screamed, beating wildly at the fire, but it had already caught in his hair.

Now was the time to move—now, before reinforcements arrived. Where you were going, you had no idea. How Joel would find you was equally a mystery. All you knew was that you had to get out, preferably with Ellie in tow. You turned toward her, intending to wake her up, only to see her already standing with the box of scanners in her arms.

“Let’s go,” she said.

She didn’t have to tell you twice. You paused only long enough to scoop up your last cocktail before you took off toward the adjoining hallway. God, you hoped it didn’t come down to a fight. After the incident with the roof, Ellie now had both guns and her knife. If anyone got too close, your Molotov wouldn’t be of any fucking use unless you wanted to go up in smoke, too. Oddly, you felt just as disinclined to go hell that night as you usually did.

The hallway was so dark that you could hardly see Ellie as she raced ahead of you. You hoped to whatever fucking deity had fucked things up so badly that an exit really did exist somewhere at the end of the corridor, one without a hoard of angry gang members gathering outside.

Ellie crashed through a door, and, following her, you found only another wide lobby on the other side. You shouldn’t have been surprised; the military changed the architecture of buildings at zone borders so much that everything got topsy-fucking-turvy trying to keep everyone from leaving. Even if this had been your zone, you wouldn’t have been able to find your way out. The first time you’d left had been the only time you left.

Your companion distracted you by throttling a nearby cabinet until it stood in front of the door you had just exited. Without another word, she hurried over to a nearby bar to shove her box of loot behind it. She was taking the safety off her gun when she resurfaced.

“What are you doing?” you asked as she started to rush off toward another hallway.

“Finding Joel,” she stopped long enough to tell you.

“What? But—”

“You killed the one guy that knew there was another door there, right?”

“Probably, but—”

“I’ve got to go. Before they come back.”

“Ellie, Joel wouldn’t—”

“Do you think I fucking care?”

You fell silent, heart thundering in your ears.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“Look,” you said in what you hoped was a soothing tone, “he’ll be able to find us if we stay put. If you go running around, you’re likely to get yourself killed, and you’ll miss him.”

“Just because you can’t handle being on your own out there doesn’t mean that I can’t. I’ve got both arms and I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Oh, not everything is? What a fucking surprise!”

“We don’t have time for this,” you snapped. You couldn’t tell if you were more angry than scared, or more scared than angry. Ellie just couldn’t leave. Someone would kill you if she left you, whether it was Joel or the zoners.

Ellie quickly shook her head and closed the distance between you. “You’re right. Here.” She held out your old pistol. You took it without thinking. “Maybe if they show up, the adrenaline will be enough to get your aim straight.” Ellie had made it halfway across the room again before she added, “Remember: They can hear you. You might want to keep your fucking trap shut.”

And she left.

“Ellie!” you shouted after her, but no answer came echoing back to you.

For a moment, you felt blind with panic, capable only of staring numbly at the gun in your hands. Then you heard something slam in the not-quite-distance, in the opposite direction from where Ellie had gone. Before anything else could reach your ears, you dove behind the bar with the scanners. Just as you ducked behind the chipped counter, someone pounded on the door. You held your breath as the shattered remains in the cabinet jittered across its shelves. Once, twice, three times—the cabinet started to grind across the floor.

With an almighty smash, the door finally crashed open wide enough for two more men to shove their way into their room.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” one crooned.

“We heard you calling your little friend. We know you’re in here,” sang the other.

The sound of someone kicking over a long-dead potted plant filled the room. “You killed Jeffery, you little bitch. Might as well surrender to your fate.”

Before he could finish his sentence, you popped up and let off a single shot. You didn’t stick around to see if it met its mark, but it became pretty clear that it hadn’t when they started to scream at you and fire their own weapons. You stood again and fired, your hand shaking widely around your gun as you did. After the third round, you must have made a lucky shot. One of them spluttered and choked. You heard the distinct sound of a body hitting the floor.

Silence rang, but you knew it would be temporary. The horrible grinding sound of someone unable to breathe continued quietly, and then whoever was left shrieked.

“Oh, you’re fucking dead now, bitch! You think you can just waltz in here, into our turf, steal our things, kill our men, and get away? I don’t fucking think so!”

Your breath was wild in your chest. You lifted yourself up momentarily, but when you pulled the trigger, all your gun did was click. It had no more bullets. You had no further way to defend yourself.

He knew. He laughed. His footsteps echoed against the walls as he walked leisurely toward your hiding space.

“You’re gonna pay, bitch. You and your two friends. Don’t know where that man of yours went, but we’ll find him. That girl won’t make it of the building. And you? You just made sure none of you are getting an easy death.”

You dropped the gun, too tired to hold it up anymore. At last, your attacker appeared. He had a wide grin full of chipped teeth.

“There you are,” he whispered.

As he advanced, your hands scrabbled through the debris surrounding you, like a moment out of one of your well-worn nightmares. He drew closer, knelt—and that was just when your fingers found a plank of wood. You lifted it into the air without thinking and swung the object hard into his head. Again, you were lucky. Several nails had been drilled into the side of the wood, and you just happened to have sent them into the man’s skull.

“What the fuck?” he said, and lifted own gun.

You ripped your weapon out before he could fire. He dropped. That wasn’t enough. You were alone. You didn’t want him telling his compatriots anything. Again, you lifted the plank and drove it, nails first, into the back of his neck. He continued to twitch. You continued to beat him in more and more places. He fell still, but that still wasn’t enough either. You knew what torture meant for women, and you’d be damned even more if you let that happen to you.

“Holy fucking shit!”

You looked up. Ellie had returned with Joel in tow. Both of them stared at you, for how long, you couldn’t say.

Then you promptly dropped the plank and fell gasping to the floor.

[wenwenbittercake]

Do you have a masterlist of your series? It's great and would love to read it from the beginning but can't find a masterlist.

Sorry I totally forgot to make one. Honestly I didn't expect this series to be this popular so I never made one but here is the master list thank you for the support everyone 💗💗💗

Masterlist🍒✨🍒✨

Chapter 1: Worst Mistake🍒

Chapter 2: Guilty🍒

Chapter 3: Escapism🍒

Chapter 4: False Comfort 🍒

Chapter 5: Cherry Vanilla🍒

Chapter 6: Doll🍒

Chapter 7: Give peace a Chance 🍒

Chapter 8: Forbidden Fruit 🍒

Chapter 9: Comfort, Warmth and Love🍒

[hirrus-peaceful-jump]

Fellow Slang simp-

Are we going to ignore Mr. Lang saying "Cameron is a sadist and I'm a masochist.... and vice versa" in this 2011 interview???????

Sir are you implying that you are a...a...a switch good at using metaphors? Now you look at this evil smile...

The video for science:

[im-his-druidess]

I saw your recent Norman Nordstrom post and now I'm desperate 😭

Can you please write a smut/fluff where the reader is really kind to him and helps him a lot?

Thank you for reading my request and I hope you're having a good day/night,

PhantomCat 💜

You should absolutely check out @purplelupins story for him Every Breath You Take 😩👌

[rush-the-stars]

what are your thoughts on yuuji and predator/prey, the world wants to know 🎤

oh my god THANK YOU for asking me this one.

i think he absolutely has a predator/prey kink but he doesn't quite realize it. a little slow on the uptake ya know ://

i think it starts super innocent, ya know? you run a bit away from him and he chases after you and grabs you around the waist. you're all giggly and it's sweet. i think he likes to rough house a little, too, never to hurt you of course! but he's playful and he likes to roll around with you. he likes to chase a little! i think he's a really physical guy!

a bit like a puppy, almost. sort of. until it's not quite like that anymore.

i think something happens where it like...dawns on him. maybe you really take off running sometime? maybe you're both...idk, training as sorcerers? and you run, like genuinely, away from him and he sees your form and it's just– it's like sheer instinct that compels him to tear off after you. he doesn't even fully think about it.

and he's faster, ya know? so much faster. and stronger. it's not really a competition but you're clever! and you make him chase and he just. his mind lights up.

and when he gets his hands on you, he's almost startled by how turned on he is? how badly he suddenly needs you? kinda crashes into a rough kiss, almost desperate? and it just clicks in his head, with his heart still pounding and how you're unable to catch your breath that he wants to do that again. and again. and he wants to–

it feels awful for him to admit initially, but he wants to hunt you. he wants to chase you and catch you. and wrestle with you.

i can't even get started on the addition to sukuna in the back of his mind LMAO it's all too much for the poor guy

send me a kink + character and i'll tell you my thoughts on it!

[multific]

Brownies and Ice Cream

Norman Nordstrom x Reader

Summary: Your life with a very energetic son.

A/N: This can be read as a standalone or as a sequel to my previous work.

"Dad!" the little boy ran around the house, trying to find his father, you were in the kitchen making some brownies when the little boy decided he needed to know where his father is. 

To be fair, it has been a couple hours since you last saw Norman, so you didn't mind that little Oliver wanted to find him.

"Daddy!!!" he yelled louder, but no answer. "Mommy's making brownies! Dad?" a couple seconds later, your boy returned with tears in his eyes, you rushed over to him, trying to see if he hurt himself. "I can't find Dad." he said and you let out a sigh of relief knowing he wasn't hurt.

"Sweetie, your father is probably hiding, go find him."

"But, you said Daddy's too old to move that quick." your son's honesty made you burst into laugher.

"Don't say that, you know he hears everything. Did you check the garden?" he nodded. "Basement?" again, a nod. "How about his office?" nod. "Bedroom or bathroom?" two nods. "Living room?"

"Mommy, I checked everywhere! Daddy left us! What if he left and went away with his other family?"

"What other family, Ollie?" you looked at your son, confused. 

"You know, like on the TV! The man had another family, what if daddy also has one and left us for them?!"

"Okay, no more soap operas for you, Love. I'm sure your father is here somewhere. Maybe you just missed him. And if you find him, bring him to me and your reward will be fresh brownies with ice cream."

"ICE CREAM!" said the little man as he ran.

"But, be careful, don't fall, Ollie!"

 But of course, after the word, ice cream, little Oliver Nordstrom didn't hear a single word. 

You knew Norman sometimes likes to hide away from Ollie, he said the boy needs to have sharper senses as you always baby him. Which is absurd, you do not baby him! When did you EVER baby, your perfect little child?!

Being a protective mother is not a bad thing.

As you cut the brownie, you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.

"Mommy! I found him! Where's my reward?" sang your little boy as he was already sitting by the table. Norman joined him as you placed his plate in front of him and your son.

"For my two favourite men." you placed a kiss on Norman's forehead as he smiled.

"Where was daddy hiding this time?"

"He was in the garage! He for sure didn't see me coming, he jumped when I found him!"

Norman often liked to up-play his reactions to please his son.

"Of course, he didn't, because-"

"He's blind!" chirped your son as you laughed, as did your husband.

"Yes, but also because you are a ninja."

"Not anymore, Mom! I want to be a racer now! Drive cars!" of course, at his age he constantly changed his likings, and you just went with it. 

Once almost all the brownies were eaten, your son decided to play in the backyard with your dog.

You were washing the dishes when you felt a pair of arms around you and a kiss was placed on your shoulder.

"Isn't he wonderful?" asked Norman as you smiled.

"Well, he is my son."

"I think, we should have another."

"Brownie? But we just had one."

"I meant child." Norman said as you turned around in his arms.

You looked into his eyes, but of course, saw nothing.

"I never-I don't think I want another baby. I was struggling with him a lot, you know that. Don't get me wrong please, Norman you know I love our son, but two babes? I always only wanted one child."

"Hey, hey, I get it, don't feel pressured please, I'm not going to force you or anything. I was just thinking about it, but if you don't want to, we don't have to have another one, I'm really fine with only one. Please don't make that face, you are not disappointing me, Love."

"How do you know what face I'm making?"

"I just do. But as I said, no pressure, I just thought you might want another."

"I don't think I do."

"Perfectly fine! Even if you didn't want one, I would have been fine with just us."

"Thank you for understanding."

"Of course, I love you."

"I love you too Norman. And this doesn't mean you can't play with the idea you know. I know you have a breeding kink."

"I do not." he gasped.

"Oh, you do, Love. You always talking about filling me up and stuff."

"You naughty, I thought we don't bring those up! It's just in the heat of the moment."

"Sure, that's why you never took your hands off of me when I was pregnant right? 'All round with my child' as you always said."

"Says the one who likes to be chocked."

"Can't deny that, I like to be dominated." 

Norman smiled.

"I'm so happy you came into my life, Y/N."

"As am I." you placed a kiss on his lips.

Enjoying these small moments before your son came rushing back in to tell you about the bug he found in the backyard.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster​ celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow​ @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith​ @soleil-dor​ @alex12948​​ scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​​ @paola-carter​ @stunkbiggu @violet-19999​​ @praline357​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[slxsherwriter]

🌹 🌹🌹

I'm gonna cheat and give a sentence from three WIP instead of three sentences from one because I'm hyped on all of them.

Frank grinned against the shell of her ear, unable to stop the sense of pride that came with each soft mewl that left the omega as his fingers continued to tease. (Alpha Frank x Omega reader)

The raspy, grizzled voice of the older man was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality; grounding you in a way that let the desire to scream, to cry, to throw things fade into the background. (Norman Nordstrom x reader)

"Afternoon, Stuart," you greeted the older man cheerfully, clearly catching him off guard as he visibly startled. (Stuart Lloyd x reader)

[princess-of-thebes-1995]

Upcoming Yandere.

You have an Instagram follower who liked all your selfies. Since your beautiful face had many admirers you didn't know of your yandere follower.

Norm Nordstrom was an ex marine and was slowly going blind due to age and stress. Thanks to you, he decided to get eye transplant. He will go insane if he can't look at your cute face.But, you have to pay the price since he paid lots of cash for the surgery.

You owe him. He decided to not only kidnap but impregnate you. You shouldn't have tempted him