#flooded with adrenaline and anxiety very suddenly

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

[INJURY]: sender gently tends to receiver's wounds, which leads to them kissing (from Carol)

"It's Carol...it's Carol..." Rick muttered to himself as he hid under the bed, shaking, scared. Almost. Almost that had been his last day on Earth. The house they had been staying during a scavenge mission had been breached by an armed group. Very armed group- while Carol was away. Rick had been recovering from his wounds after he had fallen from a roof- the thing had come thin under his feet the dsy before.

He had hid, knowing he had no chance against the enemy numbers. 5 at least, all armed, inside that house. If they saw him, he would have an awful death for sure, he already had struggled and killed one- by their talk, they weren't good people at all. Suddenly though, he heard shooting. Shouting. The sound of bodies falling, vibrating the floor his chest was pressed against. Then silence. Then Carol's voice. "Carol!" He whispired.

Slowly he dragged himself from the hideout and stumbled onto his feet, still shaking due to the adrenaline burst in his blood. "You...you got them all...?" He was impressed. Yes, she had. Taken by the recent still present despair, he turned to her, talking, near panicking. "Please...I know...I know you're considering to go away...but please...please don't go away." He let her sit him on the bed, as she cleaned his wounds, he shook, his eyes so wet, on the verge of tearing up.

"Without you I can't get anything done. Without you or Daryl...I can't. It's too much. We are going to die without you, Carol, I...I'm going to die without you..." Rick was trying to not sob. It was his emotional limit, after storing so many unsolved feelings. "Ple...ee...ease.....please...." He moaned, begging, beaten, crying, containing the sobs, his chest tensing wanting to hiccup as she took care of his wounds. As she held his face, trying to soothe him and wipe the blood away, he gave her a pitiful glance- all the sadness he had stored had flooded out. He hated it. But he had no control of his current state- his despair. His voice was a pathetic cry, his nose congested because of the tears. "Please stay...just tell me why you're going, I can change, we can change so you can stay, you can't go, I'll do anything for you to stay..." He was fighting the sobbing, but it was useless. His eyes kept pacing from her left eye to her right eye, waiting for an answer- anxious, scared. And then, to her lips. In anxiety, he planted a scared kiss on Carol, pressing his lips against hers.

@wexarethewalkingxdead

[stars-written]

The news of her father's death had been like a stitch in her side: it only hurt when she tried to inhale. Half the time, she didn't feel it, could pretend she was normal and everything was fine. The other half, she was in sharp, stabbing agony that left her breathless, with nothing but clenched teeth and watery eyes. She'd been on Felucia when the news came over and she and her mother had mourned them in their way.

Years passed before she found the time to make the trip all the way out to Coruscant. Part of her felt a deep-seated guilt for taking so long but another part of her, a part that sounded distinctly like her old master, told her it didn't really matter. She was wasting her time, it said, as outside of a very brief exchange when she was still a Padawan, she'd never even met the man. As she sailed across the stars, her view-screen dominated by hyperspace blue, she took a deep breath and quietly quashed both parts of her as far as they would go.

As she weaved her way through the Coruscanti foot traffic, she contemplated picking up something appropriate for visiting a memorial but, ultimately, decided against it. She didn't know what would even be appropriate for someone like her to give someone like him and so she simply walked the whole way from the star port to her destination in quiet contemplation. She managed not to disturb any of the more expedient travelers around her despite her somewhat slow gait and found she crossed the distance faster than she'd envisioned on the long journey here.

The memorial itself was nothing grandiose or gaudy and she found herself smiling somewhat at how fitting that felt for the man she'd known, however briefly. She stood just off to one side, merely watching the empty space where his memorial stood, suddenly seized by the inability to move. There was no one here to watch her, she reminded herself, as the sun had barely made its ascent over the far horizon. And yet, despite it all, she felt terribly pinned to the spot by an unseen gaze. Internally she scoffed at herself for feeling spooked by invisible ghosts and, after a little longer than she'd care to admit, she managed to dislodge her footing from where she stood and approach the tall slate.

Smooth stone met her gaze as she drew near, a faceless plinth with naught but the name of her father carved into it alongside a scant few cherished words about him and his demise. With a sigh, she found herself once more uncertain, unsure what to do now that she was here, and desperate for some kind of parting gift to lay at the memorial's feet. What did one do to honor the dead here? What would he have wanted from his only daughter to remember him? She knew the answer to neither question but when she tried to take a calming breath to clear her thoughts, she felt it: that sharp, stabbing pain whenever she tried to inhale.

Fingers curled into fists at her sides as angry, burning tears filled her eyes. Blinking them back, she forced herself to her knees, thumping her fists against her thighs for something to ground her and her spiraling thoughts. Despite the agony in her side, she drew a deep breath in through nose and let it out, shakily, through pursed lips. Repeating this cycle for longer and longer breaths, she eventually felt the pain subside and found she could see and think more clearly again.

She opened her mouth to say something, to begin her testimony to the dead, when she heard it: careful footsteps nearby. Freezing in place, she felt anxiety-fueled adrenaline flood her nervous system as the stranger drew near. She dared not move or speak, certain this person would guess who she was in an instant even though no one ever had. Instead, she simply remained still, unmoving, feeling as much as seeing the stranger behind her move to her side and take a seated knee, mirroring her pose. Swallowing thickly, she allowed the silence to stretch between them, awkward and uncomfortable, for several long seconds before finally opening her mouth.

"How did you know him?"

(@misfittcd plotted starter for Obi-wan)

[as-mod-eus]

𝐅𝐈𝐍. 𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝑆𝐶𝐸𝑁𝐸: 1900 - 𝐶𝑂𝐿𝑈𝑀𝐵𝐼𝐴 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝑂𝑅𝐼𝐴𝐿 𝐻𝑂𝑆𝑃𝐼𝑇𝐴𝐿

His concession didn't require very much resistance from Maite at all; such was the result of a mental tip-toe about her frailty and a drifting from the edges of his being. As the adrenaline wore down, so too did his grip on the present, and with her apology, he murmured a reassurance back that she had nothing to apologize about, and went gradating off into the long brushstrokes of green and brown that painted the scene outside the tiny window on the door. That cascade lulled him, as did knowing Maite was safe, with him, finally, into the deepest rest he'd gotten in over a year. She met him in his dreams again, this time basking in the tangibility gifted to her by the rescue. Doe brown eyes and pinked, grateful shock, she came to him at that river that he'd so often met her before. She crawled into his arms and he could smell her hair, feel her weakened breaths on his neck.

"I've been looking for you," he whispered. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. When she spoke, she spoke in her voice, finally. Not the voice he'd conjured up and matched against her features as a likely fit. No. Her real voice, lilted and beautiful and broken, and she told him of bears that run through the forest. She told him she'd been wandering the evergreens, leaving him handprints on the bark. She told him she'd been right there all along, bathing in that river every dawn. He buckled under his grief and fell into her tangibility, gripped her close for dear life, and sobbed into her hair. Explained, pleadingly, how he'd been looking for her for so long. Held the back of her head to his chest and spoke it like a promise, trying to convince her he hadn't stopped. She tangled her fingers through his hair and told him more stories of resting on branches and catching frogs and weaving baskets. Of being fed berries and fish by the cubs. In his dream, she draped herself down across his lap and told him it was okay, that the bears had kept her company, promised they had kept her safe, and he felt the bursting of relief explode through him just as consciousness came flooding back in. "They're quite like you," she mused, and suddenly she was gone, and he could feel his body again. Feel the deep, inescapable ache of injury to his gut. The man groaned out, first. Then, without thought, called out for Maite.

During his rest, he'd slumbered so deeply he hadn't woken up when they'd gotten to the hospital, and had been immediately brought into surgery to close up his wounds. The sedation hadn't worn off for several hours and he woke in the middle of the night, his large form rising from the mattress before his awareness had even come back to him.

He was trying to speak but the words weren't coming out right. They fell from his lips, heavy, and he was too tired to pick them back up. The exhaustion flooded back in, and his slurring of her name silenced.

It took another few hours for the anesthesia to fully wear off and Everest to come to again, and stay. A few more to bicker with the nurses about seeing the woman. They told him he needed to rest. He told them they weren't taking him seriously. Only after his partner showed up to both support and advocate for him, did he receive physician permission to go down the hallway and see her. The hours had gone by like some sort of personal purgatory. He stewed in his anxiety, convincing himself somehow, amongst lingering propofol, that the brunette had been stolen away from him again as he was unconscious. The need to see her again held more than just yearning. It was the visceral need to confirm that she was still there. That she was not lost again.

His nurse urged him to let her bring him down to Maite's room in a wheelchair, but he was certain it would take too long. The officer wanted to sprint to her room, fling open the curtain and make certain of her existence. That her rescue wasn't part of his dream, too. That she did not only exist, lithe and emaciated, in his dreams. The journey to her room was objectively short, just down the hall, but it took him a lot more effort to move now that his torso and leg had been stitched from the musculature out. Eventually he made it to the chair in the corner of her room, flanked by his own wheeled rack of fluids, and caught his breath while he stared at her slumbering features.

The officer wouldn't dare wake her — he'd gotten what he needed. The sheer comfort of seeing her chest rise and fall beneath layers of blankets was enough to get him to relax back into the cushion, and release the tension in his form. Soon, he'd drifted off to sleep again, and when he awoke, he blinked into scene of Maite accepting a tray of food.

A groggy, raspy inhale drew through his nostrils, a breath of bleached air welcoming him back to earth. This time, he'd dreamed of nothing at all.

"What'd they give you?" he asked, tone still baritone and gruff with residual sleep. "Anything good?"

The gentle hand at her shin grounded Maite before she could withdraw too deeply into the dark memory of that day, or the overwhelming concern over her family and what they had gone through. What painful memories of their own might be stirred back to life with her return, not to mention the shock of witnessing the conditions she was found in. Would they wish Eugene had ended her life too, like he did the other girls', rather than extending the torture beyond what could be recovered? It was a question Maite began to struggle with herself. How much was too much? Would any future she could hope for be worth surviving what she had with the knowledge that she would never be fully free of it? That a part of her would always be down in that basement. At some point her deteriorating mind and body must have decided—no, but her spirit, although weakened, remained stubborn somewhere in there. The echoing of words in affirmation coaxed her back to the present, to the confines of the ambulance where she was safe with him sitting just a short distance away, he who she was quickly coming to recognize as her protector before even learning his name.

A whole year. It felt like an eternity. While others understandably compartmentalized, separating duty from personal life as they went on about their day to day, a necessity in their line of work in order to maintain sanity, this man took it upon himself not only to remember but to feel her absence and to comfort her family despite how many other cases came across their desks. She could see in his eyes that his words were true, the way he held her gaze so firmly. She was worth a year of dedication, a lifetime he'd promised her father. He'd set out to retrieve her, and he had her now, she could finally rest. "You've seen them." She vocalized the realization with a tone of relief lacing each word, of course it made sense they'd met in hindsight, but the knowledge that they staid in contact provided yet another layer of security. They're okay, and soon she would get to see them too. Maite didn't know why that made her nervous, of course she wanted to be reunited with them, it was what kept her going this long.

Maite blinked back unshed tears at the sound of those next murmured words, taking them in through the muffled filter of her auditory complications and the mental fog of the medication. She wanted to close her eyes against the onslaught of emotions burning within her but it helped to fill in the blanks to read his lips and to look at him, to know he was there. She wanted to ask why he never lost hope when she herself had, wanted to tell him that she wished she'd known somehow, so that she could have held on a little tighter knowing he was on his way, but she didn't want him to know that she had given up. She didn't want to have to tell him that, not when she could see that his emotions were also at the surface and he was trusting her with them. The answer to her unspoken question didn't matter anymore, this here did, the fact he was allowing himself to be vulnerable before her, alongside her, and she felt a similar urge to wrap her frail body around his and to protect him in that brief moment.

"I know," the response left her on a somber exhale, not to be cruel but empathetic, because she could see the sorrow in his demeanor and she understood that this was something that was weighing heavy on him. She watched him with soft eyes and an ache in her chest for something, to somehow relieve him of a guilt that wasn't his to bear, but words failed her. The fingers of her left hand flexed instinctively where they rested at her side on the stretcher, wanting to reach for him, but the space was just too cramped and they were both so tired now that the adrenaline was wearing off and the effects of the medication were setting in. "Hey," Maite called softly to the officer a moment after he'd looked away to gather himself. "It's okay, I'm okay too." she tried to reassure him, "I'm just... s—so glad they had you with them. I was always—so worried." Outside of immediate danger, her family had been her main concern during captivity, how her mother and father were coping, whether they'd been left alone to scramble for help in a language they were not completely fluent in. And her sister, she was so young. The thought of her being in Maite's place shook her awake in a panic on more than one occasion. "Thank you." It was spoken with so much sincerity, and a certain degree of frustration because saying it didn't feel like enough when what he was giving her was life. Something the victims before her didn't have a chance at anymore, because Eugene made sure to rip it away from them like it was his to take.

There was some hesitation that built around her as a direct reaction to Rowe's question, he would be able to feel her taking a step back mentally as the hand that had been extended towards him was drawn up to her temple, doing both, idly scratching at the skin there and shielding the peripheral view she had of the standing paramedic, even though they'd done their best to afford the pair some privacy. But she wasn't completely shutting him out, her response came a beat later, in the form of a small nod. She wanted to tell him at least that much if it would ease his mind in any way, that aspect of her appearance was partly her own doing, or so she'd come to believe, for not trusting the food her captor brought to her at first in fear of it having been tampered with, or being in too much physical or mental distress to be able to keep anything down, and towards the end just refusing. None of which was her fault, really, but that was something she would have to accept with time. Right now, the only person she was comfortable communicating with was this officer with kind eyes.

"Yes, but I don't..." she shook her head, trying to convey feelings into words that wouldn't come across as rude or ungrateful, and pleading silently with her tired gaze. "Not right now. I'm—" Not ready, exhausted, on the verge of falling asleep if the way her eyelids had started to droop lower was anything to go by. In the end she settled for an, "I'm sorry." The fact that there were questions the police would need answers to didn't dawn on her until that moment. Maite could only hope that it would be her rescuing officer making said questions, that they would be alone when the moment came, or at the very least that he would be present in the room, otherwise she didn't know how she would manage having to revisit everything when it was still so fresh but that was the whole point, she supposed. It made for the most accurate recount.

[inkykeiji]

๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐

[insomniac-astronomer]

can you make another max mayfield fic? I’ll let you write about whatever you wanna write about I just need more from you you’re amazing

Max Mayfield x Reader: Suddenly Anxious

I love Max so much, I'll do as much of her as you all want :) and ps I know it's a shit title ok

HEY WE PASSED 100 FOLLOWERS!!! Thank you all so much! (This has been in my drafts for awhile, we are at 128 now!!)

Description: When reader is suddenly hit with a burst of anxiety, Max comes to the rescue.

Gender: fem. R is refered to as "girlfriend"

WARNINGS: anxiety attack (not a panic attack but close if that makes any sense)

*not my gif* SADIE AT VENICE YALL

You are obsessed with Max's hair. You love the smell of her strawberry shampoo and the way you can only describe the color as golden hour.

As the two of you sit in the movie theater, you play with bits of her hair while she lies her head on your shoulder.

An hour of the movie and four braids later, you suddenly have a snap of anxiety inside you. You immediately feel nauseous, standing up very abruptly to run out.

You book it to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall. You take a couple of swallows, convincing yourself that you won't throw up (which of course is making you more anxious).

You hear the bathroom door open.

"Y/N?" Max's sweet voice floods through your thoughts.

You unlock the stall and she comes rushing over to you.

"Are you okay?" She holds your cheeks worriedly.

"Yeah, I-" your voice shakes so you take a breath. "I just got really anxious all the sudden."

"Panic attack?"

You shake your head. "Not quite. I just feel . . . off."

"How about we get out of the bathroom?" Max offers you her hand and you take it, giving her a weak smile.

She leads you down a deserted hallway and guides you to sit on the floor. She pulls you into a hug.

You grab onto her jacket and smell her shampoo, grounding you just slightly. You can still feel yourself shaking as waves of adrenaline pump through your blood.

Max starts to run her hand over your back in a slow pattern. You start to match her breathing, worries fading just enough for you to finally collect yourself a bit.

You sit up, looking at the ground.

"Better?" Max asks.

You nod. "You didn't have to follow me out. I know how much you wanted to see that movie. I'm so sor-"

Max cuts you off with a kiss. Not your first kiss but you are still shocked when it happens.

She holds both your hands and looks you in the eye. "I will leave anything for you. Don't apologize. I want to make sure you're okay, always."

Tears spring to your eyes but you manage to not let them fall. You give her a shaky smile. "And are you doing okay?"

"I'm amazing!" Max grins. "I get to spend the day with my beautiful girlfriend and she insists we go to the arcade tonight."

You nod. "Yes, we must go. I want to watch you dominate the scoreboards."

"Pretty impressive, huh?"

You playfully smack her arm. "Shut up."

"No," she grabs you into another hug, just wrapping her arms around your shoulders, her cheek touching yours. "It's impressive and you know it."

You give her a look until the two of you break down into laughter.

"Okay?" Max jumps up and offers a hand to help you. "I actually do need to see how the movie ends."

You smile as she drags you back down the hall.

Max ❤️ wrote this on my phone so the formatting might be a lil off, sorry. No stealing!! Thanks for reading!!

Buy me a coffee?

[dragonjesterwrites]

Can I ask for a headcanon on how Sun and Moon would deal with a kid reader who's a serial climber/gargoyle kid? An example of what I mean by that is a kid who feels the need to be in high places and as soon as you look away they've already climbed out of reach, so Sun could turn around and suddenly reader is perched at the very top of the tallest play structure and crouched like a gargoyle, silent and watching people calmly for hours staring in a way that creeps other kids out.

And like, they will even try to sleep up there during naptime and somehow they never take a bad fall, they know how to land safely like a mini parkour runner,(because they're a fan of it and learned from YouTube videos how to do this) they could easily escape over the wall of the daycare if they wanted to and have done so (because they wanted to use the vending machine) but they do come back, only they don't use the slide, they just come back the same way they escaped?

Sorry if this is a bit long and hope you're having a good day.

Nonnie are you me? I was this kid sgshjsks (there was this great big oak tree in the yard of my primary school, I used to climb it to escape to the nearby market and just wander around until someone came and got me, it was loads of fun.)

And thank you, I hope you're having a good day too! 😁 It's not too long at all btw, I love when people send me detailed asks, gives me more to work with 👌

Sun and Moon dealing with a Gremlin Child HCs

☀️

Kids disappear from sight all the time; of course Sun worries, but they almost always pop out of the jungle gym or the ballpit a minute later. It's when he hasn't seen them in a good five minutes that he really begins to get concerned.

He checks the usual hiding spots- lots of kids get overwhelmed and crawl away into the darker, quieter areas. If he can't find them there, he starts looking around the top of the jungle gym. That's usually where he finds the kids he and Moon affectionately refer to as Rascals.

And, sure enough, there you are, perched on top of the very highest point of the gym, with a pile of goodies surrounding you like a miniature dragon's hoard. Relief floods him at the same time anxiety does- his programming shrieking at him to get you down right away before you fall. But of course the first several attempts at persuading you to come down/carry you down are failures, you're having way too much fun.

Sun doesn't like using the timeout corner, so he's borrowed some of those kiddy leashes from the lost and found. Naturally, the simple clasp does not stop you- in the 10 seconds he turned his back, you're already gone and halfway back to your perch- although, in exasperated hindsight, Sun supposes he shouldn't be surprised. If basic survival instinct and respect for authority didn't work, what was a piece of plastic going to do?

He ends up allowing you to stay there- it's more dangerous to go up and try to herd you down, you're still and content when he leaves you alone. But he still sends worried glances up every now and then.

🌙

Ah, a Rascal. With most kids, Moon would try various coaxing techniques, or simply talk to the child, find out why they didn't want to sleep- it was usually a toss up between fear of the dark, of nightmares, of monsters, or simply being too hyped up on Fizzy Faz and adrenaline to rest. Reading a story, sitting by the child to protect them, lavender scented stuffies, or a quick jog around the Daycare usually helped, with Moondrops as a last resort. But with Rascals? Straight to Moondrops, because otherwise they'd be gone in a flash, and candy usually tempted even them. But you're fast, and in the seconds it takes him to pull out the candy, you're gone.

He chuckles and goes up to check the hoard Sun told him about, but you're not there either. He turns to scan the other high points, and sees you climbing the netting oh stars-

Moon's fast, but you're faster, and by the time he calls the cable and flies over, you've slipped through a hole in the netting. He can't leave the Daycare during operating hours, so all he can do is contact security and go back to watch over the other kids, circuits thrumming with worry.

Thirty minutes pass and nap time's almost over. Security hasn't found you yet. But just when he truly starts to panic, he turns and sees you there, plopped smack dab in the middle of the rainbow foam mats, surrounded by a pile of chips and drinks from various vending machines. He has no idea how you even carried it all. Your calm gaze doesn't move from his even as you chow down on your loot. Well played, little one, well played.

But while your cunning (and perhaps even amusing) mischief is to be admired, Moon, unlike his solar counterpart, has absolutely no issue with using the timeout corner. You spend the rest of naptime snoozing in the corner, cocooned happily in a blanket after being bribed with Moondrops.

Your (well-earned) loot is neatly tucked away into a spare bag, to be given back upon the assurance that you won't ever climb the netting again because stars above, little one, you almost stopped his metaphorical heart-

[exuberantocean]

So a while ago I wrote a piece offering advice called On Writing Panic Attacks.  I’d just like to point out that this clip from Ted Lasso (a show I might be cyberstalking because I will not pay the subscription to Apple TV) does an EXCELLENT job of portraying a panic attack:

Right on off the bat you can see his breathing seems a bit heavy for the situation he’s in.  It has definitely started but it is so easy to miss.  There’s a few shots of everyone else (including some great singing btw) but when the camera focuses back on Ted, the sound sounds kind of distant-elsewhere.  Panic attacks are so bodily focus that everything around you often can seem secondary.  Plus they often come with some level of disassociation.  Camera focuses down on his hands, which he moves in reaction to the tingly/numbness that also comes with panic attacks.  And they start to shake, an effect of the adrenaline flooding his body now.  Now everything disorts, awareness of his surroundings has been compromised.  Note that if your character’s panic attack is caused by something specific in their outside environment like a trigger, they’d be hyperfocused and hyeraware of that object, but it a situation like this, he’ll be so aware of his body’s sudden seemingly insane behavior that everything around him will be a lot less focused (not necessarily blurred, but it’s a special effect that gets the point across).  

Now Ted’s really in.  Panic has fully set in and he NEEDS to get OUT NOW.

Please note, Ted’s behavior isn’t outlandish or all that abnormal from anyone else’s perspective.  Yes, everyone’s focused on Rebecca’s singing, but even if they weren’t, his behavior doesn’t seem that strange.  No one realizes he’s panicking.

I like that time also seems to be not flowing correctly here.  Panic has an amazing way of warping time. We’ve got this affect where time slows but also skips?  Totally the way I have experienced the flow of time during panic attacks.  One breath takes an eon.  Suddenly I’ve walked across the parking lot with no memory of doing so.  All within the same panic attack.

He’s outside in fresh air, but can’t seem to find his breath.  Hyperventilating looks much more like this the the dramatics I’ve sometimes seen or read.  You can be fully hyperventilating and have no one notice sometimes.  Of course curling up on side of the street is now the first readily observed sign something is not right.

Now listen carefully.  Rebecca calls him a couple times but her voice is distant, the audience can barely hear her at first.  But once she gets through, she provides a something he can focus on.  Rebecca is very good here (I have to assume she’s had personal experience with a panic attack.  She knows what to do.)  The only thing she should have done different was ask permission before touching.  I for one, find it incredibly helpful but I know some people who, when panicking, cannot stand to be touched.  Fortunately Ted’s apparently like me and seems to find it helpful.

The dialogue is spot on.  All stuff I’ve said when panicking.  He calms then wants to remove himself.  I haven’t seen full episodes so I don’t know how it fits in with story and character (though I got the sense he doesn’t open up his own pain to others which is very common among people who frequently get panic attacks).  But that also can be some of that “flight” instinct giving him the strong urge to escape.  Notice how he shakes his hand though when he gets up; still got those pins and needles.  By the way he walks away, stiffly, you can see his muscles are still tightened from the adrenaline and anxiety.

I mean, this was perfect.

[alohastyles-x]

So I just had a panic attack in work in front of my manager, coworkers and a load of customers (im a waitress) and I was wondering how would druig and probably makkari with him, how they'd react if they were customers at a restaurant and saw their server having a panic attack

Just cause it would be nice to see how people should react and ik druig and makkari would be amazing! xx

First of all- I hope you are doing okay love!! I served for 3 days before quitting because I had a panic attack each shift in front of everyone, so I fully understand how you feel!! Hugs to you <3 <3 Anxiety is the absolute worse and I'm so sorry you struggle with this too :(

Pairing: Druig x Makkari x GN! reader (they/them pronouns if any will be used)

Summary: You have a panic attack while working as a server. Druig and Makkari over hear/see and help you.

Warnings: descriptive anxiety attack, rude people, language.

Druig Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Wattpad |

Working a double shift today was the worst idea you could have imagined... but you needed the money. It was a crazy day, the busiest one the restaurant has had this week. You were running on very little adrenaline, trying your hardest to push through the rest of the shift.

"Hi, my name is Y/N, and I'll be your server tonight. What can I get you guys started to drink?" You asked your next table. There were two people sitting there, one a dark and brooding man, the other a light and airy female. Two polar opposites.

"We'll just have waters," the man said to you, as he watched what the lady in front of him signed to him. You smiled, before walking back to the kitchen to fill their cups with water.

Suddenly, an all to familiar feeling rushed over you as you filled the glasses. You heart sunk to your stomach, and your breath hitched in your throat. The uncomfortable feeling only intensified, but you tried your hardest to brush it off, trying to remember the techniques your therapist taught you. You took three deep breaths, before walking to the table.

"Here you go, are you guys ready to order?" You asked, your speech rushed as your face flushed from the anxiety writhing away in your stomach.

The customers in front of you began talking, but you didn't hear a word they said, as their faces blurred, your vision starting to go in and out. It felt like you couldn't breathe, and you began to hyperventilate.

"Hey, hey, hey," a soothing, deep voice suddenly spoke in your ear, as a flood of peace and serenity flooded your body. You felt your body go limp against the body behind you, as they held you closely.

"You're okay... you're safe... you're okay..." he repeated in your ear, until you finally felt better enough to lean forward to see who the affirmations belonged too. It was the dark and brooding man from your table, who was smiling at you. To your left was the girl, holding your hand, stroking her thumb against it.

"Oh my god, Y/N! Are you okay?" It was your manager. They rushed over, kneeling in front of you, worry evident in their eyes.

"Yes, I think so, thanks to..." you trailed off, pointing to the two customers.

"I'm Druig, this is Makkari," he said, pointing to the woman still holding your hand.

"Thank you Druig, Makkari, your meal is on the house, and Y/N, please just take the day off. You've been overworking yourself for weeks now," your manager said, pulling you in for a hug. You hugged them back, while glancing around the restaurant. You were thankful that everyone seemed to be minding their business, or offering you a comforting smile.

When your manager released you, you turned to the couple behind you.

"Thank you Druig, Makkari. My anxiety... it just gets really bad sometimes, and a little too out of control," you say, getting a little embarrassed.

"It's okay, I understand." Druig said and Makkari nodded.

"Why don't you join us for lunch? I'm sure you could use the break to just sit and eat, maybe make some new friends," Druig translated for Makkari, as she gave you the biggest smile she could.

"That would be nice, yeah," you smiled back, grateful for their kindness.

Please remember to always take care of yourself first <3 and my inbox is always open for anyone who needs to talk!! I hope you're having a better day today anon- you have all my love and support! <3

[chatonne-rousse]

Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave

This is one akuma whose intentions are good. After all, who couldn't use an extra dose of courage to overcome fear?

A superhero whose identity will be immediately revealed in the process, for one.

When an akuma causes several secrets to come to light all at once, our heroes will need to drum up some courage to face their fears - and each other.

But what's waiting after that looks like it might be a dream come true. It'll just take a bit of bravery and a lot of heart. Piece of cake.

***

Only eight days late and several dollars short, I’m wishing @jennagrinsoverml a happy belated birthday with this gift, written just for her.  ILY, my friend!  

Read it on Ao3 here.

***

Ladybug has to give Courageous some credit: she's a rarity, an akuma born of selfless means. A teenager who hadn't mustered the courage to stand up for a younger student being bullied at school, she'd been so ashamed, so angry with herself, that Hawkmoth had found an easy target to ply with honeyed words and promises.

Her power isn't even a terrible one. The beam of light she shoots from her right hand simply causes the person it strikes to relive the last encounter they had when their bravery failed them, this time with courage aplenty. It's admirable, really.

Admirable, but terrifying nonethless.

(The fear of Chat Noir finding out her identity is deep and dark and often floats to the surface of her nightmares with blue eyes and white hair and a drowned, ruined world. He cannot know. The cost is too high.)

"Whatever you do," she calls to her partner, frantic and scared, "don't let her hit you! Please, Chat!"

She hears the desperation in her own voice, and the look on his face conveys that he certainly does. He nods solemnly.

"I'll do my best, My Lady."

She nods back, and off they go into the fray.

For well over an hour, they fight Courageous through parks and plazas, sidewalks and thoroughfares. All around them, the people of Paris have squared their shoulders, lifted their chins, and braved conversations big and small with people only they could see.

Ladybug has to smile as she hears a young man confidently ask for a raise and watches his eyes light up at the response.

That smile fades when she remembers once again that the last time her courage had failed her was just as they were dismissed for lunch break, when she'd tried to invite Adrien to a movie that weekend. His eyes had been so kind as he'd waited for her to gather her words properly, and somehow that had just made it harder.

Then Lila had "accidentally" tripped and knocked into her, sending her to the floor. The memory of Adrien's hand reaching out to her to help her up, those same kind, patient eyes locked on hers, makes Ladybug's cheeks heat even now. But after she was upright again, after Lila had stalked off because no one seemed to care that she "probably would need surgery now because her arthritis would flare", Nino had reminded Adrien about the gig he was DJing on Friday and Alya had led her away to show her something on her phone.

Just like that, her opportunity was gone.

And that would be fine, honestly. Marinette was used to moments of stuttering and botched declarations when it came to Adrien.

But if she's hit by Courageous, Chat Noir - plus the citizens of Paris, Hawkmoth, everyone - will hear Ladybug try to ask Adrien Agreste on a date, and that will be a disaster of epic proportions.

"Ladybug, look out!"

Chat's body slams into hers, sending them rolling on the sidewalk just as a beam of magical light zips over their heads. In a flash, Chat Noir bundles her in his arms and vaults them to the rooftop above, making sure she's steady on her feet once they land.

"Thank you, Ki-" The words die in her throat when she sees over her partner's shoulder that Courageous has followed them.

Chat turns, his baton at the ready, while Ladybug reaches for her yo-yo, but neither is quick enough to stop the akuma's beam from finally finding one of its main targets.

"I'm sorry, Bug," he murmurs as his eyes glaze over.

Using her yo-yo as a spinning shield, Ladybug drags her partner behind the nearest chimney stack just as he begins to speak.

Panic sets in as her mind screams at her over the hum of her yo-yo, the akuma's laughter, her partner's voice.

I can't just leave him!

"Father, may I come in?"

Oh no, oh no, oh no. I can't hear this!

"Yes, Nathalie said she penciled me into your schedule for noon."

Nathalie?

Ladybug's gaze snaps to her partner, yo-yo still spinning to deflect beams of light. She's surprised to find Chat Noir's head bowed in deference, though his eyes shine with a confident gleam.

"I requested this appointment to ask you again if I could attend the event with my friends tomorrow evening. I've already completed my assignments for school and the homework from my Mandarin tutor."

Mandarin tutor? What?!

"Yes, Father, I'm aware that you don't care for Nino, but..."

The panicked scream in her mind gives up any attempt at coherence; by this point, it's no more than a muddled loop of Nathalie, Mandarin, Nino, Father.

Ladybug feints to the left to avoid being hit by the akuma as a mix of terror and adrenaline floods her system. She leaps forward, leaving Chat behind the chimney in the hope that she can engage the akuma just long enough to get her partner back and finally, finally finish this off.

She knows too much already. The cat has bolted straight out of the bag and is running loose on this rooftop beneath her feet, a distraction she can't handle right now.

On hero autopilot, she hurdles one beam after another, then tucks and rolls and pops up to roundhouse kick Courageous in the chest, sending her flying.

She hears the akuma's "oof" just as Chat Noir's jubilant voice rings out from behind the chimney.

"Thank you, Father! Thank you so much!"

She can hear his grin in those simple words, the sheer joy in being given permission to leave the house. Everyone in their class knows what a tight leash Gabriel Agreste keeps on his son. It breaks her heart every time she thinks of it. In fact, she's successfully fought for his release from that marble prison on more than one occasion! So yes, she'd already known with all the clues in place, but there was truly no mistaking it now: that was Adrien talking to his father.

Because Adrien is Chat Noir.

Her heart cracks. Oh, Chaton.

Suddenly, the akuma's progress in clambering to her feet is impeded by the whoosh and subsequent metallic thunk of Chat's overhand swing with his baton.

Relief floods her heart at the return of her partner. No matter who he is, Chat Noir is her other half, and Ladybug is never quite herself without him.

"Maybe we could use a little extra luck, My Lady!" Chat winks at her over his shoulder before facing the akuma again.

"Yes! Right! You bet!"

Get it together, Marinette, she thinks. Her face heats and she scampers away to the safety of the chimney stack where Chat was hidden to call for her lucky charm.

A red and black spotted can opener drops into her hands and she looks at it in confusion. "What am I supposed to do with this?" she grumbles, looking around frantically but seeing nothing to help her decipher how to use the lucky charm.

She takes a deep breath, peeks out from behind the bricks, and promptly takes a light beam to the face.

No, no, no, no!

It feels vaguely like having a water balloon popped on her head, a chill of sensation dripping down her spine and rippling through her nerves. It's a small mercy that being hit by an akuma rarely hurts physically. Her vision swims like a mirage in the desert, the familiar courtyard at school coalescing from vapor around her.

The last thing she sees is her partner's stricken face.

The last thing she hears is the akuma cackling.

"Heylo! Who! I mean," she takes a deep breath, a rush of confidence tingling along her nerves. "Hey, Adrien!" She smiles and gives him a little wave.

His grin takes her breath away. "Hi, Marinette! How are you?"

"I'm great!"

You can do it, you can do it!, her heart sings, and miraculously, her brain listens. Her smile turns coy. She taps her lip with her index finger. Her pulse pounds a bolstering tattoo in her ears. Go for it, girl!

"But I could be better."

Adrien's smile drops a fraction. "Are you okay? Is there something I can do?"

With another deep breath, she squares her shoulders and looks him in the eyes, her very cells imbued with a courage unparalleled even when she's wearing spots. She could do anything, anything, right now, but she has her mind set on accomplishing one thing and one thing only.

"You could join me for a movie on Saturday."

"I could...?" His brows furrow, but his grin grows slowly, bright but incredulous. "Are you asking me....?" He blinks, takes two shallow breaths. "Do you mean just the two of us?"

She nods decisively. "A date."

You did it. You did it! A veritable party erupts in the back of her mind, radiant relief spreading to her fingertips. It feels so good to finally break through her anxiety and fear and ask him that simple question that felt like an impossible task just a few hours ago.

Thankfully, he doesn't keep her waiting. The answer is in his eyes, anyway. "I would love to," he breathes, cheeks pink and smile dazzling.

"Really?" Marinette squeaks, and now it's his turn to nod.

"I'll be there even if I have to sneak out." Adrien reaches for her hand and gives it a little squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods again, her chest so full of emotion she can barely breathe. Not only did she ask him, but he said yes!

Suddenly, blue sky fills her vision and she regains awareness to the sound of a scuffle on the other side of the chimney stack. Ladybug tentatively gets to her feet, reaching for her yo-yo and setting it spinning immediately. This time there's no peeking around the corner; she bursts from behind the bricks on the offensive, ready to finish the fight.

What she finds is Courageous struggling under Chat's baton, twisted up like a pretzel and unable to move for the steel-toed boot resting across her shoulders.

"Just in time, LB!" Chat crows triumphantly. He tosses her a bracelet emblazoned with the words Be Bold, Be Kind, Be Brave that currently pulses with Hawkmoth's dark energy.

In moments, the bracelet is broken, the akuma is freed and purified, and a confused teenager sits where Courageous was restrained a moment ago.

Chat docks his baton at his back and looks at his partner with the softest eyes she's ever seen, a tiny, equally soft smile playing at his lips.

Her heart sighs. Adrien. That's Adrien, and he knows.

The lucky charm sits heavy in her palm. Abject fear makes her hope against hope that she won't remember his identity when she casts her miraculous cure, just as her heart longs to hold on to the knowledge that her precious partner is the boy of her deepest desires, and maybe, maybe they really can have it all.

With a deep breath, she throws the unused can opener into the air, watching magical ladybugs and healing light burst forth and spread throughout the city. She waits, holding her breath, but when pink light swirls around them, the only affect it has is the healing of the twinge in her ankle from when she fell mid-fight.

She looks up, and her partner's eyes say it all.

He remembers, too.

Even as fear grips her heart, radiant joy shines from his face as his grin spreads. It scrunches his eyes behind the mask and pinkens his cheeks, delight seeming to glow from his pores. Ladybug has never seen her partner so happy. That elation is a balm to her soul, and she can't help but smile right along with him.

Ladybug turns to the akuma victim and holds out her hand, offering the bracelet back to her. "I really like that inscription" she says, pointing at the now-silver bracelet as the girl fixes it back on her wrist.

She smiles shyly at the two heroes. "I wish I had the courage to do more. I wish I was brave like you."

"We get scared sometimes, too. Everyone does," Ladybug starts, before her partner nudges her shoulder with his elbow.

"Speak for yourself, Bugaboo. This cat has no fear." Chat Noir throws her an exaggerated wink, and the girl laughs. "But real talk, anyone can be a hero in their own way. Little things, big stuff...you're stronger than you think, I promise. Cat's honor."

She nods. "Thank you for, you know, saving me and everything." Glancing at the street below, she gestures toward the edge of the roof. "Would it be too much trouble to get me back down there?"

"Not at all," Ladybug replies with a smile. Calling on her own courage, she looks at her partner and takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing, she thinks. "The usual spot in five? Or less, I guess, since it...doesn't matter now," she says with a shrug that she hopes looks nonchalant.

And there's that smile that shines like the summer sun. He gives her a jaunty salute. "I'll be there with bells on," he says, tapping the bell at his throat and making it jingle.

Ladybug just shakes her head and giggles.

A few minutes later, when she lands beside Chat Noir on their familiar rooftop, her earrings are beeping a frantic rhythm, signaling mere seconds before she detransforms. Instinct has her looking around the roof, ready to dart behind anything she can use to hide.

Before she can move, Chat steps toward her and quietly asks, "Marinette?"

Her transformation dissolves in a wave of pink light, and she hears him gasp as she catches Tikki gently in her palms. Marinette takes her time retrieving a macaron from her purse to feed her kwami, deliberately moving slowly in an attempt to get herself under control before she looks up at her partner. He knows, and he's thrilled, and that's amazing, but it feels like the entire world will change when their gazes finally meet, and she's just not ready yet.

"I, um...I didn't use my cataclysm, so I can stay transformed if you'd prefer, but..." he trails off.

There's something in his voice that finally makes her look at him. Just like when he talked to his father under the akuma's control, his head is bowed slightly, but instead of confidence, this time his eyes are bright with nervous hope.

Marinette understands both the nerves and the hope, and she'll joke with her partner until the end of time about who's in charge, but it feels wrong for either Chat or Adrien to look at her with uneasy deference.

And that's what she thinks of as courage wells in her chest. Her brave, steadfast partner, the other half of their unstoppable team, the boy with terrible timing who can still make her laugh, her best friend whom she loves so fiercely, should never feel he has to approach her in fear.

"Oh, Minou," she breathes. "Of course, go ahead. I...I already know."

He nods and stands a little straighter, and with a whisper and a flash of green, Chat's magical leather is replaced with denim and cotton poplin.

Predictably, her brain is short-circuiting, hollering in panic and terror, but even as her heart pounds wildly in her chest, it whispers quietly, gently, that this is her partner. Her silly kitty. Her dearest friend. He just happens to look like Adrien Agreste at the moment.

(Okay, this is going to take some getting used to.)

Tikki flies off to join Plagg nearby, while Marinette sits down on the roof with her knees pulled to her chest. She pats the space to her right and Adrien settles in cross-legged next to her.

He's the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, Marinette. I shouldn't have gotten hit. I shouldn't have let you get hit. I know this wasn't what you wanted, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize," she interrupts, shaking her head. "It happens. It's...not the first time." Marinette sighs and closes her eyes, suddenly feeling a lot less courageous in the face of this world-bending change now that they're in their civilian clothes and it's Adrien apologizing to her. She presses her forehead to her knees and tries to imagine the boy beside her in magical leather and cat ears. It only helps a little, but it's enough. "We, um-" she pauses, licks her lips. "We have a lot to talk about. I just don't know if I'm ready for...all of it."

Adrien is silent for an uncomfortably long moment. "Yeah. We do." She hears him take a deep breath that shakes a bit on the exhale and turns her head a fraction to peek at him. His eyes are on the distant horizon. "I...think I understand some things now."

Abruptly, he turns toward her, a little smile tilting the corners of his mouth when he his eyes meet hers. Fear tells her to look away, but she tamps it down and holds his gaze. His smile widens.

"May I ask you something, Marinette?"

She nods.

"When you came up to me at lunch today, were you...planning to ask me on a date?"

Her pulse pounds in her ears. She could give in to fear, say no and brush it off like Chat had misheard her when she was under the akuma's spell. But suddenly her heartbeat seems to drum, "be bold, be kind, be brave," over and over again, and just as the smile begins to slip from his face, she finds the nerve to nod again.

Just like on the other rooftop a few minutes ago, his face lights up like the first rays of sun after a week of rain, shining splendid even in the early afternoon light.

"Am I--" he whispers, his breath hitching though his joy never dims, "Am I the boy?"

Be bold, be kind, be brave.

She calls on her Ladybug courage and nods once more.

His breath catches again and his eyes fill with tears that he brushes away quickly.

Clarity dawns all of a sudden, sweeping her fears to the corners of her mind to be dealt with later. She understood Chat Noir being happy to know his partner's identity, his excitement in finding out his Lady was his friend, too. But this is so much more. Beside her sits Adrien, wiping tears of joy from his eyes at the knowledge that Marinette is in love with him. This might just be a dream coming true on a random rooftop on a random Thursday afternoon.

"Chaton," she breathes, stretching her legs in front of her and placing a hand on his knee.

His hand covers hers, and she meets his gaze, words caught in her throat at the intensity in his eyes.

"I have a confession to make." He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand and takes a deep breath. "I think everyone in Paris knows that Chat Noir is in love with Ladybug. I...know you know." He shrugs as his smile turns a little helpless. "But no one knows that I might have a little tiny bit of a huge crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, too."

"Kid, don't lie to your girlfriend. You know very well that I knew, because I've been telling you forever!" Plagg calls from somewhere behind them. Tikki hushes him loudly.

"Okay, he's not wrong," Adrien says, huffing out a combination of a laugh and a sigh. I'm just very stupid, apparently."

"Hey, don't talk that way about my partner." Marinette bumps his shoulder with hers. "I have a teeny, tiny, huge crush on him, too, you know, and I don't appreciate your tone."

Adrien's surprised laugh rings out across the rooftop, filling her heart with so much love she can barely breathe with the force of it. She could listen to that laugh for the rest of her life. She hopes she'll have that chance.

He brushes tears from his eyes again as his laughter subsides, his grin still shining bright. "I'm so happy it's you, Marinette. Beyond happy." He turns her hand beneath his and threads his fingers through hers. "Honestly, there's no one else I would rather have as my partner."

"Me too, Minou," she murmurs, squeezing his hand lightly as incredulous joy sings through her veins.

Tikki's little voice pipes up nearby. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but it's almost time to go back to class."

Adrien lets go of her hand to fish for his phone and curses under his breath when he sees the time. "She's right, My Lady. Could we meet up this evening? I know we have, um...a lot of things to talk about."

Marinette nods. It feels like she's done a lot of that in the last few minutes.

When Adrien stands, he offers his hand to help her up. Just like in the courtyard at lunch, his eyes are patient and kind, but now they shine with something more. She lets him pull her to her feet, then wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

His soft exhale at her ear as he melts against her makes her smile, scrunching up his white overshirt under her cheek. Her senses are filled with him, and she's surprised to realize that it's a feeling of comfort and safety instead of the usual panic.

Maybe loving Adrien and being loved in return will be easier than it seemed all this time. Her fears seem so silly when his arms are wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests on top of hers - a perfect fit.

Even the nightmarish terror of Chat Blanc is diminished. Adrien never told anyone her identity; he knew because he himself was Chat Noir, and there's no way in the world that Chat would hurt his Lady, nor would Adrien ever harm Marinette on purpose. She must have misunderstood. He must have misunderstood. He was an akuma, after all. She sighs into Adrien's shirt. She can never allow that terrible timeline to occur, but whatever happens after this, they'll face it together. Stronger. She'll make sure of it.

"Do you think my father will let me go to Nino's gig in real life?" he asks quietly.

The sad note in his voice breaks her heart. She squeezes him tighter.

"I don't know, Kitty. Do you think we'll be having a movie date on Saturday?"

He leans back abruptly, though his hands still grip her shoulders. "Of course! I'll be there if I have to sneak out!"

Marinette boops his nose, laughing when his eyes cross. "I think that's your answer for Friday night, too."

Suddenly she's in his arms again, this time lifted off the ground and spinning. She can't help but giggle.

"I knew I was in love with a genius!" he cries, jubilant. He sets her down and plants a kiss in the middle of her forehead before calling for Plagg to transform him.

When he turns his masked face back to her, it's like the world is different. She can easily see the brilliant green of Adrien's eyes in Chat's glowing sclerae. The blending of two of her favorite people into one extraordinary boy who - oh my goodness - just said he loves her gives her a shot of courage even before she suits up again.

"You missed, beau gosse."

His eyes widen comically. "I....what?"

Marinette smiles and calls for her transformation, then taps her lips with her gloved fingers. "You kissed me, but you missed."

The sly gleam in his eyes makes her breathing speed up.

"First of all, I would ask before I did that," Chat says, sticking out his thumb before raising his clawed index finger. "Second, I thought I'd save our first kiss for Saturday. Seems like a great way to end our first date, doesn't it?"

Our first date. A tingle runs down her spine. She likes the sound of that.

"I guess I can wait." Her smile turns cheeky. "But it'll be our third--"

"Ah, ah, ah," Chat cuts her off with a grin. He extends his thumb again. "First of all, I don't remember either of those."

Ladybug rolls her eyes, still smiling.

"And second," he says, his voice pitching lower and making her heart skip a beat, "it will be Marinette and Adrien's first kiss."

Oh, this boy, she thinks as her heart soars.

She bites her lip to keep from giggling. "I suppose you're right, even though we both know we're the same people."

Chat gives her a deadpan look. "Just let me have this, Bug."

She bursts into laughter and reaches for her yo-yo, delighting in watching a grin light her partner's face.

"I really am looking forward to Saturday," he says, unhooking his baton from his back. He reaches for her hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "We'll talk about it later today, okay?"

She nods and watches him vault off toward home.

The wind against her face is exhilarating as she swings back to the bakery. It's amazing how one revelation seems to have changed everything. Even the zip of her yo-yo through the air sounds different to her ears now that she knows, now that he knows.

Marinette detransforms as she touches down on the terrace and sinks into her pink-striped chair while Tikki phases through the hatch into her room in search of food. A quick check of her phone tells her that she has ten minutes before she has to go back to school.

School. One more thing that's going to be different.

Before nerves can creep in, she thinks of Chat Noir and his beaming joy at learning the identity of his beloved partner. That was Adrien. She thinks of the comfort of being wrapped in Adrien's arms, his scent, his warmth. That was Chat Noir.

And when she sits down in class behind him in a few short minutes, that boy with the soft smile and shining eyes will look like Adrien, but now he's so much more.

Marinette stands up from her chair with a lighter heart than she can remember having in a long, long time. She's suddenly looking forward to the second half of the day, even more excited for Nino's event tomorrow night, and positively thrilled that she has a date with Adrien - who is Chat Noir! - on Saturday.

There's so much to experience, so many memories to be made. It feels a bit like a dream. It feels more than a bit scary. But it's going to be great.

It's just going to take a little courage.

She's got this.

[writersblog20]

survival

Sebastian Stan, Tom Hiddleston and Chris Evans x reader platonic

Warning: angst!!! Mention of readers death but she’s not actually dead. Terrorist attack? Stabbing, Anxiety, language, lots of injuries but after that a lot of fluff as the boys take care of her

Words: 3K

A/N: this came up because of the song Survivor by 2WEI. Idk I just wanted to get this out of my head. I absolutely don’t mean any harm or want to offend anyone. If I do please tell me because I’m very sorry then!

 You were in your hotel room. You visited your friend Sebastian, Tom and Chris. You became friends because you photographed them since you were a photographer you were actually friends with the whole Marvel cast but mostly closer to the three boys. You were supposed to hang out tonight but plans changed….. you texted them that everything was ready and they told you in the group chat that they were on their way. You wanted to respond but all of a sudden you heard a loud bang followed with a couple more. 

It was too loud to be a gunshot. You quickly got up and looked out of the door. Other people were running down the hallway. What happened? You asked someone who was running by. “We don’t know but they said it was a terrorist attack.” The men told you and run away when another bang was heard. There was smoke everywhere and everything went by so fast. You tried the exit but it was locked. And of course it was just your luck that you were on the highest floor of the hotel.

You didn’t saw anyone anymore. You started to panic and ran down the stairs but obviously that took a little while but adrenaline rushed through your veins. You saw a fire on the fourth floor. You got your scarf and wrapped it around your face, except your eyes, so there would be minimum smoke in your lungs and for the fire. Luckily for you a lot of friends of your mom were firefighters so you kind off knew what to do. You ran downstairs but on every floor you called if someone was there who needed help. On the second floor you heard someone scream for help. You quickly ran to the person and helped them up. All the power in the hotel was out so you used your flashlight on your phone. The fire illuminated on your faces. How many stairs you took down how hotter it got.

You helped three people out yet. And one was hanging onto you because the woman couldn’t walk. You all made your way downstairs and finally got to the main floor. You passed the woman over to the men that was walking with you. You almost made it out until you heard someone screaming. You turned around and saw a man underneath some obstacles so he couldn’t get out. “bring her outside” I told them and they quickly made their way. I ran over to the men and tilted the beams off of him. you put his arm around your shoulder and got him up on his feet while you supported him. You were the only one left in the hotel and you knew you both had to get out there quickly. The whole hotel was ruined and in flames. You made it to the door.

Boys Pov

We made it to the hotel and to our shock it was up in flames. “Where is Y/N??” Sebastian said while looking around in panic. There were photographers around taking pictures, people crying, firefighters, ambulance and police everywhere. “I don’t see her” Tom said while getting panicked as well. “she has to be here somewhere��� Chris said. “Well, call her then!” Sebastian said feeling frustrated and scared. They made their way were the firefighters were. Tom tried calling you but got no answer. “she isn’t picking up.” “Where the fuck is she???” Chris said angry. They tried to look around but then they saw two persons coming out of the hotel. “you have got to be kidding me right now!” Sebastian said frustrated. “okay well, at least she’s out” Chris said. They all took a breather. “Is that Y/N?” they heard one of the firefighters say. They looked at each other in surprise. “God fucking dammit Y/N” they heard a other firefighter say. “you know Y/N?” Chris asked them. “yes she’s our girl. We’ve known her since she was a little girl.” The other one said. “we could’ve known she would do this we just didn’t know she was inside.” They all got ready to help you.  A police officer came insight. “we still haven’t found the people who’ve done this but we believe there is still one inside” the officer said. They all looked your way with scared faces “oh god” Tom said barrable. “do something!” Chris yelled angry. “we can’t. we don’t know if he’s armed. We could risk her life then” one of the firefighter said. They all looked scared at you.

Your pov

You didn’t notice so many people or even the boys. You were too busy to help yourself and the men. He suddenly stepped in front of you. You looked confused at him. he held you by your shoulders for support. At least that’s what you thought. “oh my, you really have a good heart. Too good for your own will. The men said and you puzzled it together but before you could do anything the men stabbed you and pushed you back inside of the hotel. You fell really hard on a beam. You heard something in your back crack. You let out a whimper and you couldn’t move it hurts too much. Your breath became rapid. You looked up and saw a couple of firefighters run towards the hotel but more beams fell in front of the door and one on your leg. You led out a loud scream.

Third person pov

They saw the men stab you. They were all in shock and after that the men pushed you inside again. They wanted to run towards you but they got stopped by the police. They saw the firefighters ran towards you but then the beams fell. They heard you scream and it went through their bones. Tears fell on their cheek. Chris fell onto his knees.

Your Pov

The smoke and fire got worse. “Okay I have to get out of here. This is not going to happen” you said to yourself. You tried to lift up the beam and you heard the firefighters scream for you but everything sounded muffled and you heard a loud ringing in your ears. You couldn’t talk. You were in shock. You finally moved the beam with a lot of pain. Suddenly adrenaline flooded through your body and you didn’t feel the pain anymore only the sting of your leg. You got hardly up. You looked around and thought about the kitchen. You stumbled over to the kitchen and saw the exit door. “please, please, please be open” you prayed. You got to the door and it was open. Tears of relief streamed down but you knew you weren’t there yet. You stumbled out and all of a sudden there was a big explosion. You flew through the small alley and fell to the ground almost knocking you out but you used all your energy to keep going. “almost, keep going” you said out loud.

Third person pov

There it was a big explosion. The firefighters flew backwards on the ground. Chris put his head between his knees sobbing. Sebastian and Tom fell on their knees. Tears falling. Tom put his hands on his head out of disbelief. Sebastian hid his face in his hands towards the ground. It was like time stopped and everyone around them was in slow motion. After a couple of minutes the firefighters came back looking defeated. Sebastian stood up he couldn’t believe it he refused to. “Isn’t there a way that she survived?” he asked on of the firefighter who knew you. The firefighter had tears in his eyes “oh I’m sorry didn’t you see the explosion?” he asked Sebastian sarcastically and angry. “there is no way anyone would have survived an explosion like that! So no!” he screamed at Sebastian.

Sebastian looked at the hotel what was now fully covered in flames. “hey someone is over there!” one of the officers yelled. Everyone looked at the alley. They saw you stumble to them. “oh my god, she’s alive” Tom said in disbelieve. The firefighters came running towards you as well Tom, Sebastian and Chris.

Your Pov

When you knew people saw you for help you fell to the ground. One of the firefighters you knew took off his helmed. “hey kid, you’re okay. We’re gonna get you some help okay? You need to keep holding on okay?” he said and you nodded. Tears were streaming down your face. He called for the medics. You saw Chris, Tom and Sebastian running towards you. Tom on one side and Sebastian on the other as they held your hand. Tom wiped away his tears only to be replaced with new ones. “hey darling, just hold on okay? We’re not going to leave your side. we’re here now.” Tom said. You felt yourself get tired as you saw the medics running towards you. “doll please stay awake” Sebastian begged you as his hand cupped your face. “we need you, please Y/N” Chris said but everything went black.

You heard beeping and a pang of pain through your body. You groaned and you felt someone holding your hand tighter. “Y/N, doll?” you could pick that voice out of millions. “Seba?” you asked but more said. You slowly opened your eyes and the first thing you saw was his face. He smiled at you and cupped your face. “my god Y/N, we thought we lost you. Please don’t ever do that again okay?” you smiled sadly and just nodded. Tom walked in and saw you were awake. “oh love,” he said walking faster towards you. “how are you feeling?” he asked you “I’m in a lot of pain” you told him. he kissed the top of your head. “did you call the nurses yet?” he asked Sebastian. “I’m going to do that now” he said and made his way towards the nurses.

“your going to be okay, love. We’re going to take care of you okay? No need to worry. We love you so much” he told you as his thumb caressed your cheek. Chris made his way in as well and told you the same Tom told you. They told what kind of injuries you head and how to treat them but for now you needed rest and meds. You could go home in two days if everything went alright. The boys never left your side. one day Tom stayed with you and in the night Sebastian was there and in the morning Chris. They all took turns to take care of you. It was night time and Sebastian swayed in.

“hello gorgeous” he said with a smirk what made you blush a little. He had a basket with stuff with him. he held up his computer up. “Netflix. You can choose” you giggled a little. Are you sure about that Stan? He smirked “everything for my favorite lady” he said with a wink which made you blush and roll your eyes. he said down in the chair and gave you the computer. You searched through the movies. You saw bridget jones diary and you looked at Sebastian. He rolled his eyes “really?” he asked and you just smirked “you said I could choose” he groaned a little put he actually didn’t mind at all but he wouldn’t admit it. “fine but you don’t tell the others!” you grinned. You played the movie and he watched you more than the movie. “Seba, you’re staring at me for the past 10 minutes now” you said. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry” he said softly. You looked at him. “Can you lay next to me?” he looked at you kind off surprised, “of course darling” he said sweetly. You moved a little bit and groaned of the pain which made him look up fast. “it’s okay, I’m okay” you told him. he just nodded and crawled careful in the hospital bed with you. He put his arm behind your head so you can rest on his shoulder. You carefully moved so you could cuddle with Sebastian. At first he didn’t know how to behave but he couldn’t deny he loved this. He started to play with your hair and you both watched the movie until you fell asleep.

When you woke up you were still in Sebastian’s arms. He was still asleep and Chris walked in with flowers. He was surprised to see you and Sebastian like that but he just smiled and winked at you. “how are you feeling today sweetheart” he asked you “not much better but I believe that’s going to take a while. And to be honest with you,  I’m scared” you told Chris honestly while he looked concerned at you. “I get scared by every hard noise I hear. I see the men in my dreams, I have nightmares and my anxiety….. it’s just hard” you told him truthfully while trying to hold back the tears but failing miserably. Sebastian woke up and heard what you told Chris. He softly went with his hand through your hair to calm you down a bit. Tom came in as well as he heard everything. “we will never let anything happen to you again Y/N. I promise that” he stood up and wiped the tears away and gave you a kiss on the top of your head.

When Sebastian and Chris left Tom started to read to you.  Your anxiety got worse through the day as you started to get a panic attack. You couldn’t contain and control your breath. Tom called the nurses and gave you some calming meds. “I’ll get you some chamomile tea, sweetheart” one of the nurses said. Tom held your hand and gave kisses on top of your hand. He talked to you and started to tell you some funny stories. It helped you and you started to laugh again when you got calmer.

After two day’s you were allowed to go home. Chris helped you get out of bed and gave you the crutches. When you got outside there was paparazzi everywhere and they wanted to know your story. You just looked down as panic started to rise again. You looked at Chris a little panicky. Security made way through the people to get you too your car safely. You saw the firefighters helping all of a sudden. When you were all out of the way from people one of the firefighters walked towards you. “Hey kid” he smiled at you. “hey” you said with a smirk. “you’re a hero you know that? You helped people out of that building. If you didn’t they wouldn’t have survived that. You always surprise me Y/L/N.” you started to blush. But his face turned seriously. “But don’t you dare to ever do something like that again. When something happens you get out, you hear me?” you knew he would give you shit someday. “can’t do that. I learned from the best ya know” you told him. he gave you a smile and hugged you “I know. I’m sorry. We just love you very much” you nodded “I love you too” and with that you made your way to the set where they were filming the avengers.

The trailers of the boys were there and they decided that you would stay there with them. The trailers were big enough and RDJ already proposed that if you wanted to get a bath you could in his trailer. You decided to stay with Sebastian but you couldn’t help to feel guilty but the boys would quickly change your mind on that. They really insisted on it. When you arrived on set the whole crew was standing there and they were all clapping for you. They all gave you hugs and told you sweet things Scarlett told you that if you got tired from the boys  ,like she sometimes got, you would have a girls night. You told her that you loved that idea. Tom got some of your stuff. While Sebastian helped you lay down on the comfortable couch. there was a big screen in front of you. This trailer made you feel like you were living in a trailer. It was very luxuries. Chris got you something to drink.

It made your heart warm up from all the love and care you received. You couldn’t wish for better friends. It started to get late. They all gave you the tv remote. You decided on Y/F/M ( your favorite movie). They didn’t even groaned at your choice. The couch was a sort of bed. Like you could pull it out and then you would have a bed. But it wasn’t like a bed for two persons it was like a huge couch so you laid against Sebastian and Tom at the same time and now and then Chris and Tom would switch around when the other would get some drinks. After that they would bicker because the other person stole their place and would be cuddled up against you. It made you smile and giggle every time. You believed that they would do it on purpose just so they would see you laugh. Sebastian would just play with your hair as he held you close and smile when you did and just looked at you with love in his eyes and would place kisses on your head.

[aslitheryprinx]

Hello! Here is my mcyt g/t exchange piece for @blurrybunnie!

The prompt I decided to use was:

"cold nights are the best time for cuddles, but can it really be called cuddles when the giant is unaware of the tiny stealing their warmth?"

This was a really fun one to write, so I hope you enjoy! :D

Lonely Nights

-----------

Tommy clutched his ragged blanket around his shoulders, shivering violently. Winters had always been rough on the teen ever since he was shrunk by a vengeful witch as a child.

He'd been too terrified to be around people since the incident, knowing how easy it would be for one stray step or one cruel person to kill him. That meant living in the woods with what little supplies he could scavenge.

The blanket was made from the torn fabric of someone's discarded clothes he'd taken years ago. It had gotten him through many winters, but barely, and the years had made it thin and worn. This was possibly the worse winter he'd ever seen, as well, and as the night got colder, he was scared he wouldn't see the dawn.

Just as the cold was starting to make his body numb and heavy, the faint scent of smoke drifted past him. It didn't register for a couple of seconds. Then he was suddenly alert, adrenaline flooding his system.

Smoke meant fire. Fire meant his chance to survive the rest of the night.

Fire also meant people. Tommy felt anxiety curling in his stomach when he realized he'd need to get up close to someone, maybe the closest he'd been since he was shrunk. But it was worth the risk for the promise of warmth.

He sprinted through the woods, pushing past the blades of grass that stood in his way. He tripped over a twig, stumbling for a second before he recovered.

The running warmed him up slightly, but he was still shivering uncontrollably, teeth knocking against each other so hard he bit his tongue a couple of times.

When he saw a warm glow, he slowed. He stopped just before the clearing of dirt where the fire had been built, not wanting to leave the cover of the grass just yet.

His heart thudded far too loudly in his ears as he scanned, looking for the person or people who had made the fire. He wilted in relief when he realized there was only one man, curled up fast asleep on the other side of the fire.

He was still nervous at the possibility of the man waking up and seeing him, but the draw of the heat he could already feel from the fire was too strong. He walked forwards like a moth drawn to a flame.

The fire was old, more softly glowing embers than actual flames. He was able to go right up next to the fire. The warmth sank into his bones, and he sighed in relief. He sat down and curled up. Soon his eyes were drooping. He was close to drifting off, when a new shiver wracked his body.

He sat up quickly, alarm spiking. Another wave of chills hit him and he turned towards the fire. It had completely burnt out, and there was only a sliver of warmth coming from the smoldering wood now.

A gust of wind blew through the clearing, stealing all the warmth he'd gained from his short time by the fire. His eyes burned, though there was no smoke to sting his eyes.

He was going to freeze out here. He had no way to reignite the fire, and the man wouldn't be lighting it again anytime soon, he was fast asleep.

...The man was asleep.

A dangerous idea was forming in Tommy's mind. The fire was gone. If Tommy wanted to keep from freezing, there was only one source of warmth left: the sleeping person on the other side of the campsite.

The idea of it made Tommy's stomach churn with anxiety. But there really wasn't another option. It was either cuddle up to the giant person or freeze to death. A lump in his throat, he started walking around the burnt out fire, towards the sleeping figure.

He dragged his feet as he walked, stalling a little. While he walked, he took in the man's appearance. He hadn't paid much attention earlier, just glancing to make sure he was asleep. Now, he took in the man's features, wrapping his arms around himself as he realized just how massive he was in comparison.

The man was curled up in a sleeping roll. He might as well have been a mountain to Tommy. His hair was brown, but he couldn't tell what shade it was in the darkness. Tommy teen couldn't see what he was wearing, aside from the yellow sleeve of the man's sweater where his arm poked out. He slept with one arm curled in front of his face.

The last thing the shrunken teen wanted to do was get next to the man's face, and risk being seen. But the only exposed skin of the man was up by his face. There was no warmth coming from the safer options like the sleeping man's legs, he found out as he reached the area he guessed to be his knee.

Tommy just had to suck it up… and keep walking. Past the legs. Past the man's chest that rose up at least twice Tommy's height. He reached the elbow and his resolve wavered. The man was just so big. Just his elbow came all the way up to Tommy's waist.

But Tommy could feel the heat radiating from him already. Despite his fear, his shivering was too much, and he leaned against the arm. The warmth was intoxicating, and Tommy was climbing over the elbow, moving towards an even warmer spot before he knew what he was doing.

His heart was pounding with fear at the sight of the man's face. Every feature seemed impossibly large, and it just drove home how tiny and helpless Tommy had been for years now. But he pressed on, desperate to stop the shivering.

He crept closer and closer, feeling the warmth draw him in. As he walked, he could hear the whoosh of his lungs as he breathed. The noise was startling at first, far louder than it should be, but after a few moments, the steady sound became kind of relaxing.

Tommy found himself automatically matching the breathing of the sleeping man. His heart slowed down to a reasonable pace, and being this close to the massive person wasn't quite as intimidating. He could do this.

He passed the man's chest, feeling very envious of the warm looking sweater, and went straight towards the exposed skin of his neck.

Tommy set a hesitant hand against the neck, and instantly a wave of warmth was washing over him. He was pressed up against the man's neck, curling as close as he could before he could even think. His shivers slowly died down as the heat seeped into his core.

The relief from the cold made his mind slow to a crawl. He sat down, leaning heavily against the warm skin. He shouldn't fall asleep here, it was dangerous. But the warmth was making him sleepy, and his eyes started to droop.

Suddenly, there was motion in front of him and his eyes flew all the way open. He saw a hand twice his size coming towards him. There was barely a second to react. He looked around wildly, but there was no place to run to.

The hand brushed against him and he froze. It closed around him, and Tommy struggled, trying to escape. The grip was too tight, and he was terrified he'd been discovered. But the man was still breathing deeply, eyes shut. He'd moved in his sleep.

Tommy clawed at the hand, but he couldn't budge it. Eventually, he exhausted himself and laid back limply. The hand was radiating blissful heat, and he wanted so badly to just relax into it and sleep.

In addition to the warmth, each place where the massive person's hand brushed against his skin felt like the nerves were set alight. He hadn't been around another person in so long… since he was shrunk… when was the last time anyone touched him?

Against his better judgement, he curled into the contact. He was just so tired. Surely it would be ok if he just took a short nap? He could wake up early, and escape before the man woke up.

It only took another minute of the steady heartbeat, the delicious warmth, and the even breathing to lull him completely to sleep. He went limp in the firm but gentle hold, curling closer while he slept.

In the morning, a much more stressed Tommy would have to deal with a very curious, very large person who wasn't inclined to let him just run off.

But for right now? Tommy slept without a care, feeling more peaceful than he had in many years.

[shes-a-gryffindor]

I'll Stay With You

A bit of Angst, lots of fluff and a just a touch of smut 🤭

James looked frantically around, dodging the rubble exploding around him, flashes of red and green flew past his head as he tried desperately to find Lily. It must have been their hundredth raid by that point and yet they were no more prepared for the onslaught that had been waiting for them and even less for the Death Eaters - as they called themselves - to be waiting alongside Voldemort himself. Following her voice through the thick haze of the battle he was sure he’d find her being tortured or worse… until finally, too riddled with adrenaline to feel any relief, he found her mid duel, two against one, her face scrunched up in determination. Almost blind with rage, he shot at the cloaked figures curses a younger version of himself had probably once sworn against and even as they lay unconscious on the ground in front of him, the curses continued to explode from his wand, until Kingsley’s voice came, barely audible through the fight raging around them, ordering them all to retreat. Without thinking twice he pulled Lily closer, apparating straight back to the safety of headquarters.

Worse than the attack itself perhaps was the aftermath… Time seemed to move excruciatingly slowly in these moments when they could do nothing but wait anxiously for their friends to return, to see who else had managed to get away, thinking dreadfully of who might not have and whether they should go back.

Relief like an enormous tidal wave flooded through them at their friends’ safety; heavily outnumbered and surrounded on every front, it was by some miracle that they’d managed to get away with their lives. Despite their elation at everyone’s miraculous survival, on days like these and especially now, what James wanted more than anything else was Lily, and home. He’d never been very good at keeping a poker face and his body language always gave him away - the anxious tapping of his foot or the strum of his fingers at his side - at least that’s what Lily had always told him and it was perhaps for this reason that after sharing a knowing look with Sirius, she took James’s hand in her own, smiling ruefully at him before nodding slightly as if to say ‘let’s go.’

Landing with a crack in a quiet lane in Godric's Hollow, they made the short walk home in stony faced silence, their hands inconspicuously gripping their wands, James with an arm wrapped protectively around Lily, looking over his shoulder every so often.

The familiar smell of home seemed to ease some of the tension they’d been carrying since apparating from the fight; grateful to be out of the cold and within the safety of the cottages protective spells and enchantments, they closed the door behind them, shaking off their coats and kicking off their shoes they made for the kitchen; there was almost nothing a cup of tea couldn’t make even a little bit better and it had become something of a tradition that this was the first thing they did upon returning home from a particularly gruelling mission. Lily pottered about the kitchen in silence, making their tea - she found at times like this doing it the muggle way was almost cathartic. It wasn’t until they were both sitting in the nook, their hands cupped around mugs, that they finally spoke.

Lily could feel the tension radiating off of him, “That was too close… “ he said quietly, frowning down at his tea.

Knowing exactly where this was going, she sighed, “It could’ve been any one of us James…”

Scrunching up his eyes he shook his head as if trying to rid his mind of a particularly unpleasant thought, “yes but it wasn’t anyone, was it? It was you, There were two of them Lily, if I hadn’t found you in time-“

“But you did,” she reassured him. “James…” she continued, reaching out to place a hand over his, “it’s o-“

“Don’t say it’s okay” He interjected, standing so abruptly the loud scrape of his chair against the hardwood made her jump. “I’m sorry,” he added quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes closed, jaw tense.

“Obviously none of this is okay,” she said, frowning up at him, “I only meant that we all made it back, I’m fine, we’re fine.”

He paced aimlessly around the kitchen before stopping to lean against a bench. Looking at her for a moment, he took a breath as if to brace himself, “If you would please just consider-“

“No” she cut him off coolly, “how many times do I have to tell you, I’m no less capable than I was before.”

“You’re a right side better than half the bloody Order on a bad day Lily, it’s not about-“

“We’ve spoken about this,” she said frustratedly, “I told you, I won’t sit on the sidelines while you all go out and risk your necks!” She was standing now too, “we made a commitment, I won’t back out,” she finished stubbornly.

“People will understand if we just tell-“

“Yes that’s exactly how I wanted to break the news,” she scowled, “hey everyone, oh, sorry can’t come along, I’m up the duff,” her tone dripped sarcasm, “besides it’s not about that! Do you honestly think I could stand it? Sitting here waiting for you every time, not knowing what’s going on?”

Throwing his head back he ran his hands through his hair in exasperation, “I’ll stay with you,” he told her, looking utterly defeated. It was at this - his willingness to sit out with her at the expense of not fighting alongside his friends, a prospect so out of character for him - that she understood how genuinely desperate he was to protect her; the vulnerability in his expression, so misplaced in comparison to the usually confident, bordering on cocky, grin he often donned. James, so unyielding in his principles, found it incredibly hard to swallow that he was so utterly powerless over something he considered, however outdated Lily told him the concept was, his duty, the safety of his wife, his unborn child, his family. “Please,” he said thickly, “I’m no good to anyone like this… If something were to happen to you, or the baby…” he trailed off, his eyes flickering briefly down to Lily’s stomach, not far along enough for it to be obvious she was pregnant.

Softening a little in her resolve she sighed heavily, walking over to where he was standing to weave her arms over his shoulders and around his neck; looking up at him, her eyes darted back and forth between his own...“Do you honestly think you could stand it?” she said, quietly.

And he thought of his friends…she was right, he knew it.

“No,” he admitted despondently, “you’re right, I couldn’t.” Trying to repress the thought of what might have happened had he found her only minutes later, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer before burying his face at the crook of her neck.

“Imagine if I’d said yes,” she sniggered, “you’d have had to tell Sirius he might be paired up with Peter on missions from now on,” making him smile involuntarily against her neck; Pushing gently away from his embrace to look up at him again, she cupped his face, kissing him swiftly, “I’ll go and run a bath,” she said, before stalking out of the kitchen

He felt a small, irrational pang of anxiety as he watched her disappear into the hall, out of sight. Pouring their half finished tea down the drain, he dropped their mugs into the sink before trudging up the stairs, pulling his shirt up over his head as he went.

Along with his glasses, all fogged up and useless, their battle-worn clothes lay discarded in a heap on the bathroom floor, and steam rose curling up off of their skin, as they sat in the warm, soapy water. It was much easier to forget the dark thoughts that crept unwanted into his mind when he could focus instead on the weight of Lily’s body against his as she lay with her back against his chest, skin on skin… to think instead about how much he loved her hair this way, piled up into a messy knot, strands falling haphazardly out over her neck.

“Feeling better?” She asked.

“Much,” he responded, lowering his lips to press them gently against her shoulder.

“Mhm… thought you might,” she said, raking her fingers across his leg; he felt himself tense beneath her and she grinned with satisfaction at his reaction.

She was teasing him, his stomach lurched excitedly, this was a game they played often, one he enjoyed immensely. “You know,” he said, through a smirk, trailing kisses across her collarbone, “if we’re not careful, we’ll end up with our second baby before we’ve had our first.”

Chuckling softly, hands tracing higher still, she responded, “reckon we’ll have a whole quidditch team on our hands at this rate.”

“Reckon you’re right,” he grinned, now painfully aware of her hand on his leg and the way she was laying across him, she relished in his increasing impatience to have her closer still.

Sliding his arms around her waist he let his lips trail past her collarbone to her neck, grazing her ear, the barely stifled sigh that escaped her made him grin widely again.

“Okay,” she said, suddenly, her voice low.

“Okay what?” He responded, still peppering kisses up her neck.

“No more raids,” she responded.

He chuckled, “I’d have gotten you in the bath a lot earlier if I knew that’s all it’d ta-”, he tilted his head back to look at her, “… you’re serious?” He asked, brows furrowed, “what’s changed your mind?”

“Well...” she began with a sigh, “much as I don’t want to admit it, I have been feeling a little...off, lately, it’s hard stuff y’know, this growing another human,” making him laugh, “anyway,” she continued, “ I suppose it’s not just about me anymore…besides, can’t have you running ‘round after me like a lunatic… get yourself killed.” She rolled her eyes at James’s barely disguised glee, feeling like an immense weight was being lifted off his shoulders and sounding much more like his usual self he laughed heartily.

“I have conditions!” Lily quickly added.

“I’d have expected nothing less,” he said, through laughter, “go on.”

“I’ll still be at headquarters before and after every raid, and I’ll still continue to do all the other stuff I’m doing now, and if Voldemort shows up again you’re to apparate straight back, no questions asked.”

“Okay,” he said, still grinning.

“James, I’m serious…that’s three times we’ve crossed him now, and each time’s been an even closer shave than the last.”

“I know… understood,” he said, wrapping his arms tighter around her, “I promise.”

“So… we’re telling people then?” He asked, his grin widening to its full extent, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of finally being able to share with everyone the best news of his life.

She was laughing now too, “yes,” she said, twisting her neck to grin up at him, “we’re telling people.”

Her lips were only centimetres from his before he happily closed the gap, kissing her, both their mouths still tugging up at the corners, smiling against each other.

Any lingering anxiety from the events that had transpired earlier had now vanished and James was once again painfully aware of her body on his. Her fingers now dug at his neck and with a gradual intensity he could feel her need for him just as intensely as he felt his own, losing himself in how completely she overwhelmed all his senses… the feel of her lips against his, her tongue sliding across the inside of his lip every so often, the smell of her hair, sweet and hot in the steam floating around them, the tiny sounds she made, her heavy breathing drove him wild and he ached to have her as close as was physically possible.

Giving into the carnal passion that threatened to overwhelm him, gently as he could, he twisted her around, hands gripping the underside of her thighs he hitched them up to his hips so that she was straddling him and lifted her easily out of the tub, eliciting from her a gasp, "Eager are we?" she laughed, making him grin against her lips and she wrapped her legs around him, tightening her arms around his neck as he carried her to their bedroom; and soon, they were laying tangled in damp sheets, their legs entwined, chests heaving up in down in the same rhythm, sheepish grins plastered on their faces.

Heavy eyed and almost drunk with happiness, they lay wrapped up in each other still, talking and laughing into the evening, guessing at their friends’ reactions to their news, musing over names and who he or she might look like, which of their traits he or she would inherit, making jokes at each other's expense about which ones they hoped wouldn't be inherited... until eventually, safe in their momentarily indestructible bubble of bliss, they succumbed to exhaustion, drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

[animeyanderelover]

💘Could I request shisui with prompt 53?💘

I finally convinced my friend to watch Bungou Stray Dogs with me! I'm celebrating because of this right now. And I'm fangirling over all the requests I got and still have. I know you have to wait long, but I enjoy every single one of it.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, stalking, blood, violence, death

Prompt 53: “It is funny that you think you can actually leave me.”

“Shisui…I don’t think I’ll make it.”, you mumbled with little strength, locking eyes with the blurry man sitting right above you, arms wrapped in a firm grip around you as his eyes were shooting back and forth between you and the medical-nin who was currently attending with all their might to the fatal blows you had suffered.

When he heard your soft voice, his gaze instantly stuck to you, Sharingan still activated since too many emotions were flooding through his blood just like the adrenaline did.

Coldly burning wrath, crushing disappointment in himself and most of all, pain and anxiety worse than a thousand torturing deaths.

The sight was sickening, blood, parts of your skin and burns were covering nearly your whole body, smudged all over him as he could only hold you. So fragile, so delicately placed in his arms, breath uneven and shallow so that with each second he didn’t see your chest rising, he feared the worst. Like you could fade away from him at any moment.

The very epitome of terror was engraved into his bones, his heart feeling like it had gone dead long ago and bile constantly trying to push it’s way out of his body before he laboriously swallowed it down again.

He had seen death far too often in his life before and it was never easy to ignore the feeling of pain biting harshly into someone when a comrade sacrificed their life on a mission.

Yet this was like nothing else. His sunshine, his baby, his love was slowly fading into darkness, leaving him with bloody, broken pieces that were tearing his entire being apart. If you were to leave him, Shisui was convinced that he would never be able to see any happiness or reason in life again.

The only thing he could cling on right now was the hope that the medic assigned to the team would be able to prevent the worst from happening.

“Shh, don’t talk too much. Safe your energy.”, he pressed out with a shaky voice, the pain unbearable to stand for the rest of the team, standing silently near Shisui on guard. No one dared to speak up, not knowing what to say. Some of them were even too terrified to speak up, the blood-curdling scene was sure to haunt them all for a longer time.

“I guess it’s my fault. I should have been more careful.”, you halfheartedly joked before a sudden waves of coughs shook your body, each one feeling like it would cause your rips to completely shatter.

“What are you talking about? It’s my fault…if I would have arrived here sooner than I would have been able to help you and your comrades.”

Trembles had started taking over his body as he had to recall every single event again, how he hadn’t been fast enough to cover your team on the mission, how he hadn’t been able to save you.

How he had slaughtered every single of those scums, feeling nothing yet everything at the same time.

“Don’t cry.”

When he felt your hand suddenly placed on his cheek, he was abruptly woken up from traveling down all of his memories of failure. The blood on your hands had gone cold already, increasing his paranoia that your warmth would leave your body soon as well.

“I’m sorry. I can’t quite stop the tears from falling right now.”, he replied with a very meek attempt to smile, face contorted in suffering as he felt the droplets escaping his eyes, each one carrying the indescribable amount of mourning and agony in his every cell.

He despised the way you tried to smile through the pain, not wanting him to be sad. Imagining that this would be the last time he would ever see you smile made him feel like he wanted to scratch his skin bloody and deformed.

“It’s fine, nothing of this was your fault. I’m just glad that I got to see you one last time before I die. I’m just sad to know that everyone else wasn’t able to leave so happily as I will.”, you started to cry softly, the faces of your deceased teammates flashing before your inner eye.

“Dying? What are you talking about? You won’t die. It is funny that you think you can actually leave me. I still have so many things I want to do with you. I still haven’t married you. I didn’t even have the chance to propose. So please…”

You could tell that he was trying hard to suppress the sobs that kept fighting their ways through his body as the look of broken insanity flickered in his red orbs, swimming in there together with his tears.

“So please don’t leave me! Stay with me! I won’t be able to live without you by my side! I’ll be left with nothing!”

[orange-plum]

So I was commissioned by @andrastesassets to write about the scene in “Satan and Me” where Satan gives his wings away for Natalie, but from his POV. This was kinda a big turning point as a wake-up call in the series for him, as you’re probably aware if you’ve read past that point and seen him be more open with his feelings and such. Anyway, it was a fun little thing to explore (yes, this is canon thoughts of his). I never expected to be commissioned to explore deeper into a canon of my stories that hasn’t been put into words before with the images alone of the updates, but I’m def open to that in the future!

Without further ado, here you go.

The looming presence behind him paled in comparison to the disorienting lurch his stomach gave as he kneeled on the unwelcoming cement floor. Keeping his gaze down, concentrating on the little tremors of his arms holding him upright, Satan struggled to properly see through the fog of stress clouding his mind. Clouding his judgement.

Fuck, this wasn’t the right thing to do, was it? Was he being too hasty? Should he spring up and sprint out the door before he followed through with something he couldn’t come back from? This was definitely one of his more impulsive and reckless decisions he’d ever committed to. Nothing could truly be worth this kind of –

Satan’s hand twitched, starting to rise as nerves got the best of him, when a blur of orange and maroon hovered on the edge of his peripheral. For a brief moment, he found himself vaguely wondering what the smudge of color was in the expanse of drab brown walls and muted trim. 

Reality came crashing against him like an unforgiving tide for what seemed like the tenth time this morning. Sweat gathered at the base of his neck and he swallowed.

Satan returned his palm flat against the cement, locking his joints and muscles into place so that he would not stand up. His stomach did another discombobulated lurch.

Right. This was for Natalie. Natalie, who had no right looking so gray, Father, she was like a corpse.

She is a corpse! His mind howled the confirmation at him, leaving his breaths shallow in his welling panic.

Yes, that was true. It had been true for hours now, yet, somehow, the complete depth of what that really entailed eluded him in his denial. How could she be dead when she had talked to him only moments ago? Human’s lives had always felt fleeting, but had any ever felt quite this temporary before? 

Less than a year they had been together . . . How had she burrowed this deeply under his skin? When? Satan tried to conjure a memory to pinpoint the exact moment Natalie had become a constant in his life as he bore his back to Death and Pestilence. In the end, it was fruitless. Between his ears remained endless static.

The tension in the air was suffocating. His arms trembled, but he kept his jaw clenched.

He would give them no further satisfaction when taking the last bit of value he still possessed of his former self. They would not see him fall apart at their feet. That could come later, when left in the privacy of this cold, dreary room, where he could lick his wounds and recover in peace.

He was still Lucifer, the Morning Star and omen of destruction to all who opposed him, wings or not.

But, fuck . . . Father, he would prefer to keep his wings.

Somehow, boneless and lightheaded from the trauma of the morning, Satan noticed, with a small sense of intrigue, that his back actually felt heavier now that it was empty. How was that possible? 

The long gashes where the trunks had been swiftly carved open spewed boiling trails of lava down his skin, soaking into the hem of his robe and pooling Great Lakes onto the floor. Energy had left in his limbs the moment the numbing kiss of Death’s blade breached his muscles.

On wobbling legs, Satan rose in his shock and joined Natalie at her side. He carefully reached toward her, gliding the tips of his fingers against her ashen cheek, almost afraid to touch, because she looked exactly the same. What the hell? She looked no different than when she had been splayed out like a weathered ragdoll amongst her bedsheets at sunrise, goddamnit. 

Before he could garner enough strength to turn on his company and spew venom and vitriol from his lips, Satan froze. Warmth wafted over his fingers under her nose as he lowered his hand. Closer inspection revealed the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The nauseating cramping in his stomach abated so suddenly, he almost keeled over right then and there.

“Give it a few minutes,” Death commented over his shoulder, as if reading his mind. There was no longer a smile in his voice, his face a neutral mask as Satan glanced at him with gritted teeth, the sight of his former pride being folded up and collected like loose laundry too much to bear. “It takes a little while for a soul to acclimate into their body after death. I assure you, her color and liveliness will rekindle when she wakes up.”

Through the haze, Satan vaguely realized he must’ve been making some type of suspicious face when Death suddenly snorted and shook his head, his eyes gleaming. “For all we’ve been acquainted, Lucifer, you should know I’m not one to break my word. Give my regards to little Natalie when she rejoins the land of the living, won’t you. As always, it’s been a pleasure. I look forward to seeing you and your brother again when the time comes for your big day.”

With the room empty, peppered only with the soft sounds of Natalie’s breaths and the distant echoes of Death’s laughter down the desolate hallway, the elephant in the room was no longer avoidable. Satan slumped against a wall, transfixed by the rise and fall of the chest beside him. Even more so as the rosiness began to fill Natalie’s cheeks the longer she breathed life into her form.

His previous adrenaline had left him a hollow puppet, now that there was no longer the turbulent cocktail of anxiety and doubt weighing on his shoulders. Satan allowed himself to drift to the floor, lying beside the only person he had ever met who had compelled him to do something so utterly foolish. Jesus, her daredevil stunts to ground him at his lowest points seemed to have rubbed off on him, and likely not for the better.

Satan’s wounds throbbed at the edges, a constant reminder of the magnitude of what he had just done.

Don’t think about it, his mind lethargically reminded. What’s done is done, so don’t start regretting it now.

“Prophecy child, huh . . . ” Satan muttered, his arm leveraged under his head like a makeshift pillow. The light cascading through the windows almost seemed to light up Natalie’s hair in its luminescence. Amongst the carnage splattered around them from his sacrifice, she was ethereal and without blemish.

He had found out about the Child of Prophecy by chance, becoming enraged at the notion of being kept in the dark so late in the game. Natalie’s existence had changed from an everyday annoyance to one of unbearable burden.

She had the power to sway him? To sway his empire and everything he worked for? A being like that, who would steal his autonomy or cast him spellbound, was too dangerous to fraternize with. There was just too much on the line to risk throwing away for some goofy, loud-mouthed human without an ounce of self-preservation.

And so Satan had done the only logical thing he could think of at the time: He ran away, leaving her with that pitiful, crumpled face as he rejected her in that inconsequential Oregon town. The less time he spent with her, the better off he’d be.

Only . . . That had not played out as he’d hoped. Watching Natalie disappear over the side of a bridge had been like a bolt of electricity coursing through his body. That she would see him as the monster that he was, a grotesque monstrosity that even Michael had recoiled from, and attempt to help him, regardless? Well . . . Perhaps there was more to Natalie McAllister than he had originally considered. He’d cradled her close and winced while he repaid her kindness by accidentally boiling her alive.

Oregon was a wake-up call.

Natalie had piqued his curiosity, her smiling reassurance that she didn’t befriend monsters jumpstarting the heart in his chest that he had presumed stopped functioning centuries ago. Not only that, but he had no way of knowing he would soon find out that running toward the very man attacking her and her cowardly little friend, despite the blatant terror in her eyes, was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Oh,” Satan muttered, something foreign flooding into his chest, emotion catching in his throat as he stared at Natalie’s slumbering form.

Silencing Hell for him at the cost of her soul . . . 

Calling him her guardian angel. Crying, not for fear of Hell, but for fear of being separated from his company . . . 

As much as he wanted to deny it, the fondness in Natalie’s eyes as she smiled at him was undoubtedly genuine. She really did seem to look at him like he hung the stars above her head.

“I love you, Lucifer. I’m glad I got to meet someone like you.”

Satan trembled, unable to properly sort through the sensations overflowing from his chest as Natalie’s eyelashes began to flutter. Champagne bubbles tickled his stomach, and though not required to breathe to live, he felt so remarkably breathless at once.

So that’s what this is, Satan distantly thought, watching pale eyelashes finally parting to reveal a cognizant gaze, blinking against the trickle of sunlight warming her cheeks. When meeting Natalie’s eyes, he couldn’t keep the smile of relief from his face.

Satan understood that he had never experienced this before, but he somehow knew what to latch onto in his jumbled mind with unquestionable conviction.

I love her.

[joestarwhore]

NSFW Yandere Josuke (18+) x Female reader

his little darling managed to escape her obsessive and derange boyfriend house while he was gone.

She trys to get help and does but the good samaritan is Jotaro who leads her back to Josuke thinking she was over reacting.

Josuke angry she escape he takes her back home and has idea to keep her safe and home by finally putting a ring on her

Like The Ocean Finds The Shore (NSFW 18+)

Authors Note: 18+ ONLY. if you’re a minor please find another blog, this writings and scripts are not written for your audience. thank you bb!

You didn’t know what made it worse. The tears in your eyes? Or maybe it was the pouring rain in the pitch black night; never the less, you were barely able to make out where you were, much less which direction you were going. The muscles in your body screamed for relief, the gashes angrily stinging against the rain, pushing you to run far, far away from the house that became your personal Hell.

Anywhere was better than being with him.

Your legs burned as you pushed yourself down the hill, gaining as much distance as you could away from Josuke. You couldn’t help to think of the events that led to this; gaining a stand from Keijo, meeting Koichi in odd circumstances, all the tiny little interactions that led to you accidentally tripping over a brick. Right into Josuke’s unmoving backside.

The thunder was incredibly deafening, lighting up the city of Morioh below you. You didn’t know if Josuke had discovered your absence yet, but you knew you had to be far away from him when he did. You knew it was just a matter of time.

Suddenly the grass became concrete, and concrete became asphalt. Relief flooded through you as you realized that you had finally made it into city limits. You looked around for any sign of safety you could take, your sights finally landing on the Grand Morioh Hotel.

‘Oh my god, Jotaro!’ You started sprinting towards the doors, bypassing any on looker or someone saying any comment to you, all you cared about was finding the receptionist and finding Jotaro. You ran down the hall to the Plaza, seeing the nice attendant lady who always seemed to be the one working for the desk. As soon as she saw you approach, her smile went from one of welcome to a grimace of worry. “Oh my word sweetie, are you okay?? Do you need any help??”

You leaned on the desk for a second to catch your breath. “Actually.. yes there is something.. you could do..”, you took a deep breath, “can you tell me what room Jotaro Kujo is in? We’re related & we have a family member in the hospital and it’s imperative that I fill him in on what’s going on.” Not the best lie you’ve ever told but at this point, you couldn’t afford to be precise. The desk attendant nodded with assured hums, “Yes honey of course, give me just one second.”

You breathed in relief. Thank God. Josuke definitely knew by now that you were gone, & would absolutely be searching for you. Finding Jotaro gave you a little hope for safety but even still; Josuke was relentless.

“Okay darlin, 8th floor, 6th suite, it’ll be the one at the very end!!” Relief swept over you as you quickly expressed your thanks, sprinting up the stairs towards your destination. ‘This is utterly insane’ you thought to yourself; you were running from your deranged boyfriend to his nephew that’s a decade older than he is. Your clothes were torn, wet, your skin was bruised and bleeding out, a state of being you weren’t familiar with.

The raw emotion you felt as you reach Jotaro’s door can only be described as a broken hallelujah. You banged on his door as hard as you can, not stopping until Jotaros towering frame swung the door open.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” His stone cold expression seemed to always be unwavering, but at the sight of you his eyes betrayed him. “What the hell happened to you?” You tried to speak, but no words came out, simply emotion ridden gasps between sobs. Jotaro took your arm and led you in, showing you to a seat by the fireplace & brought you a hot mug of coffee. You gave him a grateful look as you took the cup, Jotaro taking the seat in front of you with a first aid kit. “What happened to you?? Is this from an enemy stand user?”

You couldn’t help but give a lifeless giggle. Certainly felt like it, didn’t it?

Jotaro let you sit in silence for a second while he cleaned the wounds gracing your arms & face, carefully watching your facial expression for any sign of emotion, anything to hint at what might be going on. You didn’t even know where to start in explaining it, or even a way to explain how this happened.

Jotaro took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his. “(Y/N), who did this to you?” The concern in his eyes made you feel the most cared about you’ve been in months. If you could tell anyone, it’d be Jotaro.. right?”

“It.. it’s Josuke.. When we started dating he was so good to me, he was charming & caring, he’d take time out of his day to spend time with me & would make sure i felt his love; but his actions just.. escalated. He was everywhere. He would text me throughout the day about what i was doing, saying certain comments about my outfits or what stores i was in, he ALWAYS knew.” Jotaro listened intently as he wrapped your forearm in gauze, giving you a nod it was okay to keep proceeding with what you were saying. “All of a sudden one day my land lord calls me to let me know that I was being evicted out of nowhere and i had 24 hours to leave. The same day, Josuke signed the deed to his Mom’s house & told me I could live with him. I just thought it was a crazy coincidence, I didn’t think Josuke would actually ever get me evicted. Then i found my land lords phone number in his pocket book. When I asked him about it he pretended like he didn’t know, and when i kept asking he..” The memory of him holding you against the wall, his knee putting pressure onto your slit, made you visibly cringe. The way he touched you.. it was so possessive, so needy, his eyes portraying one visible message. ‘I own you.’

Jotaro closed the first aid kit & put it under the seat he was at, a pack of pills in his hand. Jotaro silently put the two pills in your hand & got you a glass of water. “I’m sorry you’re going through this & I’m sorry you’ve been hurt so badly. The pills are a sleeping pill & a pain relief supplement, take those and you can sleep in my bed. I’ll handle everything in the morning.” You looked at the two white pills in your hand & threw them to the back of your throat, quickly chasing them with the glass of water he gave you. Jotaro gave you a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt, and helped you lay in the bed. “Goodnight, (Y/N). I’ll see you in the morning.”

You don’t remember anything past that.

__________________________________

When you woke in the morning, you were blinded by direct sunlight. You squinted your eyes as tight as you could, noticing that you were being held up my two arms that were walking at a brisk pace. Gently adjusting your eyes to open, you looked up to see Jotaro, a determined glare in his eyes.

“J..Jotaro where are we?” you whispered the best you could manage. Jotaro gave you a glance down before returning his eyes to the path.

“I called Josuke.”, Your heart drops into your stomach. He wouldn’t.. he couldn’t.. “He says you lost your apartment because your anti psychotics put you out of a job, & he had your landlords number to pay your moving out fees for you.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, no no no Jotaro that’s a lie, i’m not on anti-psychotics, I don’t have any sort of med like that, he’s fucking lying to you!!”

Jotaro gave you an expectant look. “That’s the other thing Josuke said. You’ve been flushing them down the drain instead of taking them like you’re supposed to. Josuke only wants to take care of you, (Y/N). There’s nothing to fear of him.”

“JOTARO, I HAVE NEVER TAKEN THOSE PILLS IN MY LIFE AND YOU FUCKING KNOW”- You saw a giant purple hand come over your face and cover your mouth, restraining you from saying anymore. “I’m sorry (Y/N), but this is what’s best for you.”

You heard a door in the distance open, and Jotaro looking up and locking eyes with someone. The voice you heard next made your spine freeze, and dread pierce your soul.

“Jotaro!! Thank you SO much for bringing (Y/N) back!!”

No.. Not again..

“Not a problem Josuke, i’d rather have assurance of (Y/N)‘s safety myself then just send her back here on a bus.”

You slowly looked over, finally catching sight of your boyfriend. His tall, muscular form loomed dangerously in the door way of his house, his pompadour reminding you of so many events, so many violations of your body..

God its sick that it was making you wet.

Jotaro set you on your feet in front of josuke, letting Star Platinums hand uncover your mouth.

You couldn’t look at him.

Josukes hand ran through your hair, “(Y/N) is all okay now that she’s here with me.” He put his other hand under your chin, lifting to meet you eye to eye. It was everything you remembered. Lust, anger, relief, and above all else: obsession.

Jotaro and Josuke bid their farewells. Hands on your hips steered you into the living room, Josuke gently closing the door behind you. You could feel his eyes bore into the back of your skull, your mind erratic with anxiety. God, what’s he gonna do??

“Y’know, you didnt have to run away. You didn’t have to leave me. You didn’t have to be SO FUCKING UNGRATEFUL.” Josuke threw a chair at the wall in front of you, the force of it making you fall backwards onto your back. You gasped as your back collided with the floor, seeing Josukes towering frame turning towards you. He kneels down straddling you, the obsession of his eyes terrifying as he wrapped his long fingers around your throat. Adrenaline went straight between your legs.

“I do everything for you, (Y/N). I house you. I feed you. I FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOU.” Josuke ripped apart your shirt, shoving his knee on your hot slit, making you gasp in surprise. Josukes delicate features possess a hunger that you remember all too well. “I also make you feel good don’t i??” He removed one of his hands from your throat to attack your nipple with, making you arch your back & moan. Josuke bit his lip in ecstasy as he shoved his middle finger down your slit, swirling it around in your hot heat. Josukes mouth rested against your temple as you gasped in pleasure, sickly wanting him to just take you then & there.

Josuke slowed down his finger, gently massaging your clit at a comfortable pace. “I’m sorry if it was because you felt unloved. If that’s the case, I really promise to be better. Because you can’t leave me, (Y/N). You’re mine, my little princess, my sweet baby girl,” His fingers started to assault you again. You heard a zipper get tugged town, and Josukes hips sweetly grind against yours. “My little fucking slut.”

You started to panic as you felt the tip of his rock hard cock press against your heat, your adrenaline skyrocketing. He’s delirious. “JoJo honey please, d-dont make me do this i’m so fucking sc-“

Josukes hand slapped your cheek, making you yelp in pain, quickly resulting in your moth being covered once again. “No, you don’t get a say. You were a bad girl, baby. And bad girls-“

Your scream was strained as he bottomed out his 8 inch cock inside you. “-they get punished.”

Josuke rammed inside of you, yourself being pummeled into the floor as he chanted “Mine, mine, mine, -FUCK-, MINE!!” His dick assaults your G-Spot as you felt an orgasm start to build in your stomach.

“Are you gonna cum baby? Does my little fuckinf slut want to cum??” Josuke slapped your clit. “TELL ME WHO OWNS YOU.”

Pleasure overruled the mine on this one. “It’s you baby! It’s always been you and it always will, I promise I’ll never leave you again just-“ you squealed as you felt your build up about to break. “PLEASE LET ME CUM JOSUKE PLEASE!!”

“Uggh FUCK, cum on my fucking cock (Y/N) show me who OWNS you.” Josukes duet of lust and rage amplified as you exploded all over him, your moans and screams sounding like siren calls to himself. Josuke rutted into you, filling you to the brim with himself. He laid himself by you, wrapping his arms around your overstimulated frame. You laid there for a couple of minutes trying to catch your breath, your heart rate soaring. You could hear Josukes soft giggles beside you as you felt a hand caress your cheek. You looked him into his eyes, seeing the unconditional love and obsession. The never ending love and obsession.

Josuke sweetly kisses your cheek, holding you in his arms as he gently picks up your left hand. You felt a cold circle of metal grace your ring finger, slipping on perfectly. Fear gripped your heart as you realized what it was.

“My pretty baby.. my gorgeous doll,” Josuke rolled ontop of you and held your face in his hands. “This will make sure we’re always together. You & me, husband and wife!! My perfect, beautiful, fuckable wife..”

Tears started to slide down your face.

So, this was defeat.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you be my wife?”

You looked at the alabaster ceiling. This wasn’t possible for you. This couldn’t be happening. But you knew it was.

“Yes.. Josuke. I’ll marry you.”

Josuke gleamed as he smothered you with kisses and sweet nothings, giving you gentle touches as his lips grazed over your ears to say the only thing that comes out of his mouth: poison.

“I’ll always find you, baby doll.”

“Like the ocean meets the shore- I will always find you.”

——————————-

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT & KEEP REQUESTING ALL YALL WANT!! TYSM!! 🤍🌿✨🌸👄🍌🌩

[monstersandmaw]

Sleep paralysis demon/nightmare x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This was begun on a Twitch writing stream, with lots of input from the chat, and while I did say I would post it straight to Tumblr, I ended up adding another 3k words to it, and a tiny bit of plot, so I figured I'd put it up on Patreon first. Since Patreon supporters voted so highly for a ‘nightmare’ on the 'next monsters' poll (thank you!), I thought it should go up there first too.

Our reader has been experiencing anxiety and insomnia lately, and this draws something to us... There's a bit at the start that's got creepy vibes to it, but the creature means us no harm. Because of the sleep paralysis element, I'm going to say watch out for non-con vibes, but nothing really happens without our consent first time round. Just putting it here in case that's a major issue for anyone.

Ft. dapper mothman landlord Reggie, and gnoll best friend too.

“You’re living where now?” Francis practically barked into his whisky as you sat together after work. The gnoll’s enormous, dish-like ears flicked forwards, dark and fuzzy and full of concern. “Seriously, you do know how shitty that part of town is, right?”

“It’s not that bad,” you growled, taking a sip of your own drink and leaning back into the soft leather back of the chair. You stifled a yawn and blinked, the exhaustion of a week’s worth of broken sleep catching up to you in one brutal rush.

Francis flicked an ear and levelled you with a flat look, dark eyes serious for once. “You’re kidding…?”

“Ok, fine, it’s not amazing, but it’s really not the worst bit of town. Anyway, it’s all I can afford right now until I find a new job.” That seemed to shut him up on the subject, at least for now. He couldn't argue with your dwindling bank balance after all.

“When’s your first interview?” he asked, raising the whisky to his lips and sipping it with surprising elegance for someone with such big hands and such a powerful jaw.

Taking a deep breath, you forced the nerves down and muttered, “Monday. I’m not prepared, but at least it’s something.” You tried not to think about the inbox full of rejection letters which, in a mere two sentences and with surgical succinctness, told you that they were not hiring, nor looking to hire, nor to take on any new staff just at the moment. Thank you for your interest.

It wasn’t interest; it was sheer bloody desperation.

“You’re not going to be at all prepared if you get mugged to death on your way home tonight,” Francis grumbled.

“It’ll be fine.”

He looked at you again and took another final drink of his whisky, long tongue lapping out the remaining dregs before he set it down with a clonk on the circle-stained table. “Please text me when you get there?”

With a solemn promise to do just that, you stood and he followed you outside into the cool evening. A scuffle of dry leaves drew your attention to your right, and the fleeting shadow of a cat projected huge along a brick wall made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Francis’ concern had got you jumping at the smallest things, and as you separated from him with a warm hug and the reiterated promise that you’d be fine, you gritted your teeth and told yourself in no uncertain terms not to flinch at the slightest sound.

To be honest, the neighbourhood honestly wasn’t that bad. There had been a few break-ins, and the police had conducted a drug raid a few streets over last month, but other than that, it was mostly just… tired. Perhaps it would be the subject of the city council’s next ‘rejuvenation’ scheme, and some commerce and life could finally be injected back into this wallowing, languishing, crumbling part of town. Still, the mothman who had let you rent one of the apartments in his old, converted town house had been very pleasant when you’d met to discuss rent, and that had gone a long way towards heartening you. Without his offer, you might not have had anywhere at all.

You tried to keep that fact in mind as you passed by the closed grocery store, the lights inside low, the neon sign flickering and drawing moths to it like supplicants to a shrine. For a moment, you caught the rapid drumbeat of footsteps behind you and tensed. In under a minute, they disappeared down a side street, and you let out a shaky breath. “Get a grip,” you breathed, reaching into one pocket for your keys all the same.

After fifteen minutes of striding at a quicker pace than was cardiovascularly comfortable, the old, slightly shabby, turn-of-the-last-century building loomed out of the gathering night. At the pedestal-base of the antique, cast-iron street lamp, a narrow pool of golden light shimmered and flickered intermittently, illuminating cracks in the pavement that seemed larger and more treacherous than they had in full daylight. Your imagination conjured black, coiling shadows creeping up from those dark cracks in the earth like smoke on a stage set, and as you paused a moment beneath it to sort your keys out, a breath of wind stippled goosebumps across the nape of your neck.

Glancing once over your shoulder, half expecting to discover someone standing silently at your back, you found nothing at all out of place, swallowed, and scuttled up the uneven garden path to the main door of the converted apartments.

No sooner had you put the key in the lock than the door rattled and swung open from the other side. Reeling away in surprise, you stumbled half a pace backwards and gasped as your eyes registered nothing but blackness inside the hallway beyond. From within the swath of darkness, two points of crimson glowed, then tilted slightly to the side, and you would have shrieked, had the entity inside not murmured your name at that exact instant in his deep baritone.

“Reginald!” you practically whimpered in relief, body going slack as you encouraged your heart rate back to normal with steadying breaths, and then huffed an embarrassed laugh. “You scared me… sorry. I’m just super jumpy this evening.”

“No, no,” the mothman purred, stepping delicately out onto the path and holding the door open for you with his lower right arm. His black fur rippled and shimmered in the soft night breezes and he buzzed his wings once. The fur around his nose was beginning to turn silver, and on his hands and around his antennae too. “I apologise. I felt you coming and I should have announced myself. How are you settling in?”

“Fine,” you croaked, equilibrium mostly recovered. The cool night wafted across your clammy skin and calmed your racing heart while you stood there making polite conversation with him until you yawned conspicuously.  

“Thank you for indulging an old moth, but I shan’t keep you up any longer. You look as though you could use some sleep,” he said, inclining his head in an old-fashioned bow, antennae dipping too and making you think of a gentleman dipping his hat at you. As you headed inside, fumbling on the wall for the light switch, you heard the distant buzz of his wings, and closed the door with a soft click as Reginald took off into the night.

The decor of the main areas of the building left a bit to be desired, with the odd peeling corner and scuff on the antique dado rail, but it was clean, which had set it well apart in the list of other apartments you'd scouted in the last month or so, and as you traipsed up the stairs to your first floor flat, the boards creaked raucously beneath your feet. No one was sneaking in or out of here without making a huge racket, and that thought provided a little comfort.

The interview on Monday loomed in your mind, ticking your resting heart rate up higher than normal, but after you went through the motions before bed with a strange sense of detachment, you let the weariness building behind the anxiety creep over your limbs and draw your eyelids down. Reginald hadn’t been wrong when he’d remarked on your appearance; it had been a while since you’d slept really well. So, it was with a familiar sense of dread that you let your mind slide away into unconsciousness, praying that the nightmares that had plagued your sleeping mind would stay away that night.

With a jolt, your eyes flew open to find the room dark, the street lamp outside extinguished, and a familiar sense of crushing dread weighing on your chest. Lying there, motionless, you breathed slowly, trying to figure out what had woken you so suddenly. Nothing stirred, and as you strained your ears, you caught no whisper of autumn leaves in the reaching branches of the walnut tree outside.

No sooner had you closed your eyes again, hoping to slide back into dreamless sleep, something touched your hair with a spider-light touch and you tried to scream and flail. Finding yourself utterly unable to move, you could only lie there as adrenaline flooded your whole body, your throat went dry, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth, and the sensation returned, stronger now.

Pinprick sharp claws - like a cat’s but much, much larger - raked through your hair, softly stroking your scalp, and you felt a silent scream tear itself from your chest. Something was there in the dark with you and you couldn’t move a muscle.

A shadow in the blackness of the room, a darker blur than the rest of the inky room, shifted along your bed from behind you in a coiling tendril, unfurling across the sheets and over your body like the root of a plant or the limb of an octopus, and your blood began to hammer in your ears. All you could do was lie there and gasp for breath.

Claws, long and glistening and dripping with darkness, scraped almost gently down your temple and as the entity moved into your limited field of vision, you felt another soundless yell rip itself from you. An involuntary trembling began in your limbs as a dark, black, skull-like face loomed over you, a wide maw stretching open to reveal rows of needle-sharp teeth.

You were going to die. If this was a nightmare, you’d probably be found a few days later, dead of a heart attack, and if it were real… gods above - the thought of being mugged was abruptly shunted to the bottom of your list of things to fear in this neighbourhood. The last thing you’d said to Francis was ‘I’ll be fine.’

The creature opened its mouth wider and wider as if trying to draw out your soul from your body, teeth glistening, breath completely silent, leaning in close to your face. It looked veiled, somehow, as if a wet, gauzy material had been draped over a skeletal form, which then stuck to the emaciated body beneath. With a jolt, you realised it looked like a shrouded corpse, wrapped in black fabric. The ragged shreds of material that floated eerily, slowly, as if the creature were underwater and the wisps were nothing more than kelp, and the tips constantly dissolved into fine smoke that curled lazily around the figure.

Was this Death itself?

Please… you begged silently. Please… I don’t want to die.

To your surprise, the creature tilted its terrifying head to one side in a motion that reminded you of a cat; as though it was curious.

Oh please don’t be something that toys with your prey first…

Fractionally, the entity drew back a fraction, though its four-inch long, sickle-claws remained at the side of your face. As you stared at it, wide eyed and sweating with fear, you got the fleeting impression of an emaciated torso and two equally skeletal arms beneath the floating veil.

In a moment of oddly detached clarity, you wondered if it could understand you.

It nodded.

The fuck?

That grin stretched wider. It had teeth like an angler fish, and the moment you thought that, all you could imagine was it lunging for you out of the darkness like a sprung trap, teeth sinking in, blood pouring, ending in nothing but pain and fear…

The creature nudged its clawed hand against your lips, and for a horrible moment you thought it was going to slice open the skin of your mouth, but instead, like anaesthetic wearing off, your lips began to tingle. You could move them again. Swallowing, you rasped, “Can… you understand me?”

Again, the entity nodded and retreated a little further from the bed. Like an aura of shifting mist around it, the darkness of the room rippled and moved, and you realised it really was floating beside your bed, one hand tethered to the headboard, the other near your shoulder.

“Can you speak?”

The creature paused, going still, and the air in the room thrummed with a sudden tension. Your lungs squeezed and your ribs creaked under the pressure of it.

Eventually the strain on the atmosphere snapped, and a rasping, polyphonous voice from somewhere to your right hissed, “Yes.”

Stunned, you could only lie there as it remained beside you, suspended and shifting like waterweed in a lazy current.

“What do you want?” you managed to croak. You still couldn’t move anything else but your eyes and your mouth. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Again, the air seemed to vibrate, and a chill ran through you.

“Is that you?” you asked. “Are you doing that?”

This time it took longer for the creature to make a sound, but it nodded slowly first. Its claws returned to your body and you gasped as the muscles unlocked and you found you were able to move again. Scrabbling to sit up, you blinked, and the creature twitched, lurching backwards away from you like a skittish horse.

“You can’t be… You’re afraid of me?” you blurted, almost laughing. It didn’t seem like it wanted to hurt you or scare you any more, but the surreal vision beside your bed was enough to keep your heart pounding. “Are you Death?”

Its wide maw stretched open again, revealing its mouthful of deadly teeth, and you balked, fear leaping into your throat again as you clutched the sheets around you like a child. Those claws could slice a sheet - or a body - to ribbons, and yet you clung to them.

It reached out slowly for your ankle, latching its long fingers around the joint, and you choked out a whimpering yell. Knowing you were alone in the house, with Reginald out on his nightly business and the only other apartment in the building still unoccupied, your fear crescendoed to a peak and your words failed you.

With what appeared to be a gargantuan effort, the entity paused, then inhaled, and then chorused, “Not. Death. You… fear… me…”

No shit, you thought. “What do you want?”

“Fear… is… all I… know… Without it… I am… nothing.”

Was that sadness that tinged its many voices? Was there more than just one entity within those constantly-twisting shadows?

“Just… me,” the creature murmured, half-turning away and releasing its solid grip around your leg.

The emotion in those two words made something crack inside you. “You’re lonely…” you breathed, and the creature began to tremble, glitching like a badly aligned SCART connection.

In that instant, your fear drained out of you to be replaced by a wave of compassion, and the tension left your muscles. Whatever this was, it was alone as well.

The creature’s form continued to flicker, and as you blinked in confusion, the misty veil covering them seemed to boil off, leaving nothing but the emaciated, charred-looking skeletal figure beneath, strangely vulnerable for just a heartbeat before it seemed to evaporate away altogether.

The stillness in the room left your mind reeling as you sat there. Had you dreamed the whole thing?

Scrambling, your fingers found the light switch beside the bed, and you squinted and scowled as harsh, yellow light flooded the room at the click of a button. Nothing was out of place beyond, and no hint of creeping shadows drew your eye.

“Are you still there?” you whispered, but after waiting for what felt like hours, you got no answer.

If you returned to sleep at all that night, it would be a miracle, but still you tried. Lying in the dark a good while later, and curled on your side with your eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t help straining your hearing for the slightest hiss of claws on fabric, but nothing came, and eventually, you must have drifted off into an exhausted sleep. Remarkably, no nightmares plagued you that night, and when you woke the next morning, you felt oddly peaceful and well rested for a change.  

You stretched and yawned, and only remembered about the strange experience from the night before when the soft weave of the cotton sheet snagged across your ankle and a sharp prickle made you frown.

Upon investigation, you discovered a long, thin scratch in your skin, as if a cat had nicked you with its claws in passing.

You froze.

It had not been a dream after all.

For the next two nights, nothing unusual happened, unless you counted the fact that you actually slept well for the first time in weeks. You found it almost physically impossible to make it past midnight, whereas before you’d frequently seen midnight tick by and vanish into the past as you lay there with prickling eyes and an exhausted, restless body, anxiety tingling along your nerves, counting the minutes as time ticked closer to dawn.

Astonishingly, as you faced the interviewer on Monday morning, you felt alert and almost chipper.

The naga smiled and held out a hand to you as she wrapped the interview up. ���Thank you so much for your time,” she said. “You’ll hear back from us tomorrow, most likely, but let me say now that I was extremely impressed.”

Your brows rose and she laughed kindly at your evident surprise. “Thank you,” you croaked, and left politely before you ruined anything.

That night, you lay back alone on your bed after celebrating with Francis again, spread-eagled and stared at the ceiling. The old-fashioned plaster moulding made it look like you were underwater, especially if the huge tree outside swayed in the wind and cast shifting, kaleidoscope patterns on it. A cold draft prickled over you and you shivered. “Is that you?” you asked almost hopefully, wondering if the nightmare creature was back.

Nothing.

With a huge sigh, you looked around without moving, nervous in case you spooked it. “Listen, if you’re the one that’s given me such amazing sleep lately, then… well… thank you. I think I might have got the job…”

A movement in the darkest corner of the room caught your attention, but when your gaze landed on it, all was as it should be.

“Seriously, if you’re there, please… let me know.”

Again, you experienced that strange pulling sensation, like some kind of energy was being drawn from the room, and as you sat up, your bedside lamp flickered. In front of the darker form of your dressing gown on the back of the door, something had begun manifesting into a tall, slender figure. Shrouded as before in shadow, the creature glided forwards, every bit like a nightmare, and your heart thudded.

“Afraid…” came a chanting, polyphonic voice, “And yet not…? How?”

“Have you seen yourself lately?” you hissed. “You’re kind of intimidating. What are you?”

“Nightmare…” it hissed.

You blinked. “You’re a literal nightmare?”

Its claws glinted in the half-light of your small bedside lamp as it just hung there, swaying softly like a corpse on a gallows. “Yes.”

“What are you doing here? Does Reginald know you live here?”

It turned away and you saw a ribcage jutting out like a mummy’s fragile body, though every inch of them was a soft, matte black, pock marked like volcanic stone.

It shook its head. “I found you…” it croaked in its struggling, faltering voice. “Your fear… drew me… to you.”

“You vanished when I stopped being afraid,” you said and again, the creature nodded.

“I was using your fear to… manifest. Without it… I could not stay.”

“But you’re not using my fear now, are you?” you were excited, your heart was pattering out a wild rhythm, but you weren’t afraid.

It shook its head.

“How?”

Turning towards you, it brought up one lethally clawed hand and let a tendril of wisping black smoke play through its dead-looking hand. The fingers were longer than a human’s, and tipped in those sickle claws. “You sleep… better now,” it said, as if that explained everything.

Sitting there on the bed, you frowned. “Yeah, the nightmares have gone and — wait, are you… are you feeding on other nightmares?”

Slowly, the creature nodded. “I fought one that night, for you…” it rumbled. “I won. Now… they fear me.”

“And me? Do I have to fear you?”

The nightmare shook its shrouded head, the fabric wafting slowly as it billowed around the skeletal body beneath.

“So why are you here? Why me?”

“May I… come closer?” it asked.

“So long as you’re not going to hurt me,” you said in a reedy, weak voice. “A bit closer is fine…”

Hovering, the nightmare seemed uncertain, but then made up its mind and loomed a fraction nearer. This close, the glow from your lamp gilded the empty sockets of its skull and showed the stretching maw, and while you might not have been terrified any longer, it certainly made you wary.

“Will not hurt you…” the creature snarled. “I swear it.”

“Ok, fine, but you can’t blame me for being a bit… you know… I’ve never met anything like you before, and you are technically in my apartment…”

“Should I leave?”

Probably, but you found you didn’t want that just yet. “No, not yet. Can you answer some more of my questions?”

It shrugged. “I will try. Remaining here is tiring though. I don’t have much time left.”

“Where do you go?”

“There are many realms beside yours… Nightmares exist… in the cracks between, belonging nowhere, lingering only a while…”

“Sounds lonely,” you muttered.

“It is. That is why I stayed. You… You spoke to me, even when you were afraid. I have never had that before.”

The mist moved like snakes between its fingers and you watched, half mesmerised. “Your claws… are they why I couldn’t move?”

It nodded. “Sleep paralysis causes… much fear. I’m sorry I had to… frighten you to show myself.”

You snorted and pulled your legs close to sit cross legged on the bed, staring at the hovering nightmare in your room. It was so surreal, you wondered if you’d hit your head on the way home. “You tried to reassure me at the same time as scaring me shitless didn’t you?”

It flashed its claws again and swung a close to you. “Soft,” it purred, now mere inches from your face.

This close up, you found yourself frightened again. The horror of its empty black eyes, its gaping maw full of black, pointed teeth, the coiling shadows around it, its skeletal hands with tipped with onyx scythes… and yet, they smelled like the very best of winter nights; slightly smoky with a coldness that, as you inhaled, stung the back of your throat.

“Afraid, and yet not,” it repeated.

“Can I touch you?”

The nightmare clearly had not been expecting that, but nodded. Trembling, you brought your fingertip to its cheek. The skin was cool and hard like leather, but a fine mist floated around them, and you realised that the shroud wasn’t cloth at all, but intangible and made simply of smoke and shadow. The creature shuddered and you pressed your whole palm to their face as they leaned into your touch.

A moment later, they began to flicker and let out a broken moan. “I cannot stay.”

“Come back?” you whispered.

The mouth that held the promise of death, with all those teeth, suddenly smiled and they nodded. After that, they vanished.

Another week went by, but as you faced the fears of starting a new job, and the nearer that your starting date drew, the better you slept.

“It’s you again, isn’t it?” you asked the empty, black room on the night before you started work. “Come on, come out. You’ve been trying to manifest all week. I can feel it.”

Rippling out of the darkness, the nightmare swayed towards your bed and hung in the space beside it, drifting.

“Thank you,” you smiled and stood up. The nightmare didn’t move as you walked towards it, and this time when you reached for it, the creature did anticipate it, wafting closer, apparently keen for the contact. “I actually missed you, you know?” you said as the creature’s whole body quivered.

It brought its hand up to your face in a mirror of your gesture and brushed the curved back of its claws against your cheek. It tingled but you were still able to talk.

“You can touch me,” you whispered, drawing it back towards your bed by taking its skeletal fingers in yours.

Having its permission, the nightmare raked those claws through your hair with a tenderness that left you breathless. “Let me take the fear from you…” it murmured.

Examining your feelings, you discovered a small knot of anxiety about tomorrow, and smiled. “Leave me a little bit, ok? Trust me, a bit of nerves helps.”

Nodding, it leaned close and inhaled.

Standing there beside the bed, your body ignited with what could only be described as a deep and yearning lust, and you gasped, knees going weak. The nightmare caught you as you swayed, head spinning, and laid you easily down on the bed, despite the fact that it hardly looked strong enough to withstand a slight draft.

“What…?” you gasped, core burning.

The creature looked at a loss as it hung in the space beside your bed.

“I’m assuming this has never happened to you before?” you snorted, feeling a little recovered. “How lonely do I have to be to get turned on by a literal nightmare?”

A chuffing laugh made you look back at them.

“You find that funny too?” you asked and they nodded. “Well, if I’m honest… now that I know you’re not going to hurt me, I think you’re kind of beautiful.”

A soft, broken, crooning sound escaped them and they floated nearer, hovering over your bed and extending a hand to stroke talon-tips down your cheek again. “You are beautiful,” it murmured in all its numerous, whispering voices.

“Touch me,” you breathed.

“It will paralyse you,” they snarled, leaning backwards. “I can only… control it for so long.”

“But you won’t hurt me, and it’ll wear off, right?”

They nodded.

“Then touch me… please… I… I want your touch,” and you did. In a way you’d never felt with anyone else, human or otherwise, you needed them.

Rearing closer to you, the creature hung in the air above you like a cloud. It raked its claws down your body, but instead of shearing your clothes open, they simply evaporated, reappearing on the floor nearby in a tangled, crumpled heap.

“Neat trick,” you muttered before gasping as their hands landed on your bare torso, spreading their fingers wide and inhaling again. “Magic?”

“In dreams, anything is possible. We are not bound by your laws.”

“Of course not, but you’re —” you cut off sharply as they opened their mouth and a long, black tongue slithered free and coiled around your hardening nipple. You lurched and your back arched before falling back onto the bed. A tingling spread rapidly all down your right side as their hands gripped you more strongly now.

Working steadily first down one side and then the other, the nightmare scraped its teeth over you in a hundred scratching lines that made you want to yelp and buck, but their paralysis had begun to sweep over you. Every almost-bite it chased with its soothing, teasing, paralysing tongue and fingertips until you could do nothing but tremble and twitch beneath its touch.

A voice hissed, “I will know if you want me to stop,” and you let the last of your fears slide away, giving into the intense pleasure that their mouth offered on your body.

Finally, breath heaving, you felt your release crashing towards you. Never before had you been utterly immobile like this. You wanted to thrash and buck, to squirm and writhe - the pleasure was so intense and visceral that you needed to scream, but the nightmare held you in its grasp and wrung your release from you with relentless focus. Before you could recover fully, it demanded a second orgasm hot on the heels of the first and you thought you might shear apart with the force of it.

Gasping for breath, you begged silently to be allowed to move again, and as it sat back, that long, clever tongue lapping up the last of your release, it touched you once again and your body went slack.

“Oh my god,” you panted. “I’ve never come like that…”

“Your… energy,” they whispered, touching their fingers and thumb together as if their skin was tingling too. Something cool and dark slid over your leg and you looked down to find black liquid dripping from their robes, all over your legs from where they were hovering above you.

You had to laugh. “Don’t tell me you’re switching careers to an incubus now?”

The nightmare looked at you. “It’s just you,” they said. “I want only you.”

“If you’re going to make me come like that, I think we could come to an arrangement…”

The creature grinned, showing all its deadly teeth, and you lay back and stared at the ceiling for a long time, drained and tired but deeply satisfied. You didn’t even notice yourself sliding into a blissful sleep.

When you woke with your alarm the next morning, there was no trace of the creature, but on the back of the door as you were preparing to leave, you found the words ‘good luck’ scraped into the surface of the wood.

“You’d better come back and fix that tonight,” you grumbled with a smile on your face as you spotted it. Even as you stared at it, the wood melted back into the shape it had always been before, and in its place, a simple, line-drawn heart appeared.

You snorted. “See you later,” you said as you grabbed your coat and headed out. “And… well… thank you.”

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

You’ll have access to stories before anyone else, and you’ll get instant access Patreon-only content as well, including polls and an exclusive monthly story for those on the Pixies and Goblins tier!

Currently I’m also running a CYOA for all tiers, with episodes releasing every Friday.

__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |