#i just checked and this is 1.5k words what the hell

[jellybonbons]

Sweet Tooth or Sweet Cravings?

Kenji Sato x fem!reader

Summary: When a chocolate company sent Ken a PR package, he ate the chocolates without thoroughly inspecting them, and, well...things took an unexpected turn.

CW: 18+ (mdni), established relationship, aphrodisiac chocolates, implied panty sniffing, masturbation, fingering, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names.

Words: 1.5k

AN: this is just an excuse for me to write him like he's in heat :3

Today 4:12 PM

Ken <3: can you come home? its an emergency

The moment you saw his text, your heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, you clocked out early and made a beeline for the parking lot. You had never driven so fast in your life, and you were sure you almost broke the gas pedal from how hard your heels were pressing on it. 

The city streets blurred past you, your mind racing with worry and a thousand scenarios of what could have gone wrong. You barely noticed the honking horns or the changing traffic lights, and your focus was solely on getting to Ken as quickly as possible.

As you reached Ken's home, you punched in the code with shaking fingers, and the door swung open almost instantly. You dropped your bag near the entrance, not caring where it landed, and stumbled inside, quickly sliding off your heels as you hurried to find him.

Rounding the corner into the living room, you saw Ken from behind, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each laboured breath. "Ken, are you ok–" The sight caught you off guard. There he was, panting heavily, glistening with sweat, eyes half-closed as he stroked his cock. It stood proudly and flushed in a deep red colour. His other hand clutched your panty from this morning.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry you have to–fuck,” the moment he saw you, his body tensed, and with a guttural moan, he finally came, his cum coating his hand and abdomen.

As he sprawled against the couch, you took a moment to look around the living room. Your eyes landed on a box of half-eaten chocolates on the coffee table. Curiosity piqued, you picked up the box and examined it closely. The label read "Aphrodisiac Chocolates" in a small, elegant script. Realisation dawned on you, and you couldn't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. Ken had unknowingly consumed aphrodisiacs, and now the situation made a lot more sense.

You sat down next to him on the couch, eyes wide with concern. "Ken, what the hell? Are you okay?"

"I—I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect this... I think I overdid it with those chocolates."

"Those weren’t just chocolates, were they?"

"No, they were aphrodisiac chocolates. I didn’t check the label...clearly, I should have," he growled, frustration evident in his voice as he discarded your panty from his hand.

"Yeah, I can see that. It’s obvious they did more than just satisfy a sweet tooth," you smirked, leaning closer, your breath teasing against his ear.

"You’re not helping, you know." His eyes narrowed at you, a mix of frustration and desire burning within them.

Before you could respond, Ken, overwhelmed by the effects and your teasing, pulled you down onto him. He ground his hard-on between your thighs, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he tried to find some relief.

"Ken, what—" You gasped, your voice filled with surprise.

"I need you. Right now. Please, help me." His voice was husky and urgent, his need unmistakable.

–

You lost track of time, the sky outside turning dark as the house became dimly lit. Your clothes were strewn everywhere, and he had taken you on every possible surface – from the coffee table to the expansive living room window overlooking the ocean, and now on his bed. 

He didn't hesitate for a moment, his desire insatiable. Somehow, he even managed to feed you the aphrodisiac chocolates during heated kisses, deepening the intensity of your connection with each touch and taste that seemed impossible to quench.

"Baby," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. He had your hands pinned against the headboard, his grip firm and unyielding. His chest pressed against your back, warm and solid, as his fingers delved into your wet cunt, moving with a relentless rhythm that left you breathless.

The squelching sound filled the room, adding to the erotic symphony that drove him even harder. Your back arched with every expert stroke, each thrust of his fingers hitting the perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Ken, wait!” you gasped, feeling a strange pressure building within you. “I feel like I’m gonna pee.”

He didn’t falter for a second, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm. “Just let go, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of encouragement and command. “The sheets are already dirty anyway.”

His words and the relentless thrusting of his fingers broke down your resistance. With a cry of both pleasure and relief, you let go, your body trembling as you squirted, the sensation overwhelming. Ken’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to work you through it, his fingers drenched in your release.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, his voice low and approving. “Just like that.”

As Ken finally released your hands, you let them slide down, resting them beside you—the dampness of the wet sheets clinging uncomfortably to your skin, causing you to grimace. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the rapid pace of your breathing, and allowed yourself a moment to regain composure.

Ken, still insatiable and eager, looked at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “It’s my turn now,” he said, his voice rough with need. You, sore and spent, protested weakly, “Baby, I’m so beat... I don’t know if I can handle much more.”

He silenced your concerns with a reassuring smile and a quick, decisive movement. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he said, his tone filled with confidence. With a firm grip, he lifted you effortlessly and positioned you on his lap, your legs spread and held against your chest. He manoeuvred you into a perfect angle and guided his hard cock to your still-sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, Ken, too deep!” you cried out, your voice trembling as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. Saliva dribbled from your lips, a testament to the intense pleasure and exhaustion.

Ken's voice was a low, teasing murmur against your ear. “But you love it when I go deep like this,” he cooed, his tone dripping with mockery. He squeezed you closer, his grip firm and possessive, restricting your movements and trapping you in place. 

The way he moved, controlling every motion and maximising your pleasure, made you feel like nothing more than his personal plaything, his fleshlight. Each powerful thrust sent your breasts bouncing. Your head leaned back against him, the sensation overwhelming as his movements were both demanding and dominant, ensuring you felt every inch of him, leaving you breathless and helpless under his command.

Finally, with a guttural groan that reverberated through the room, Ken’s body tensed, and a shudder ran through him as he reached his peak. His hot cum spilling deeply inside you, a wave of warmth that filled you completely.

He collapsed against you, his breath coming in deep, shuddering gasps as he buried his face in your hair, staying fully inside you. As he caught his breath, he managed to joke through his ragged breaths, “I think I’ll have to give that chocolate company a review —'5 stars for effectiveness!'”

You weakly slapped his arms, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips despite the fatigue. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, barely able to muster the energy to respond.

He then gently shifted his position, moving his hand to cup your chin and guide your face towards his. His eyes, soft and tender, met yours as he leaned in to press a gentle, affectionate kiss to your lips. 

Pulling back slightly, he whispered with a teasing smile, “But you love me.” 

“Unfortunately.” You responded with a playful sigh.

–

You were scrolling through your phone during lunch, your thoughts drifting as you ate, when a familiar company caught your eye. You paused, intrigued by a screenshot of a review with the username Notkensato07. The review was under a popular chocolate company, and as you read the lines, you couldn’t help but groan.

Notkensato07: ★★★★★

"Absolutely incredible! I tried the aphrodisiac chocolates and they were so effective, my girlfriend’s still recovering. If you want a taste of heaven—and maybe a little bit of chaos—this is your go-to. 5 stars, but if I could give it more, I would!

⤷ 241 replies

g0urmetguru: More than 5, huh? That’s some serious praise. I’m curious, how long did the effects last? Asking for a friend 😉

sillysocks76: IS THIS KEN SATO?

ChefRemyDaRat: Wow, talk about a rave review! If it’s that good, I’m buying a box for sure 🔥

chocolateroses: LMAOOO! I hope your girlfriend’s recovery is going well, man!

SweetToothSteve: Wow, this sounds wild! I’ve heard aphrodisiac chocolates are hit-or-miss, but this sounds like a game-changer. Guess I’ll be adding these to my shopping list!

jellybonbons: Nah, that’s cap.

  ⤷ chikinuggie: You’re just salty because you got no hoes.

   ⤷jellybonbons:  (comment removed for harassment) 

     ⤷jellybonbons: Wtf? why is my comment removed n not chikin for bullying?!

      ⤷ chikinuggie: The truth hurts, doesn’t it?

        ⤷ SweetToothSteve: Alright, kids, play nice! 😂

–

Shocked by the boldness of his review, you yelled out his name in disbelief, “SATO!”

Ken, who had been skipping around the living room as part of his exercise routine, froze mid-skip. The sudden outburst made him lose his rhythm, causing him to trip over his own feet. 

“Oh shit!”

Dividers by: @/chilumitos

[chxrryhansen]

2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).   

-💎

ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.

rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.

rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.

“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.

“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.

“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”

you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”

he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.

“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.

“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”

a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.

rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.

“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.

he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.

“cum.”

he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”

your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”

rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.

your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.

“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.

he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”

if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.

“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”

[chocum]

yea tattoo artist choso but .. what abt tattoo artist geto

congrats on 1k btw!

eee thank youuuu 🙈🙈 i’m souuurrr happy you requested geto bc i’ve been wanting to write abt other characters. AND THISS got out of hand lollll ( 1.5k ) idk what came over me i just word vomited all over my phone… & it’s unedited

— tattooartist!geto x reader // mentions of smoking, m masterbation, fleshlight, cum eating, kinda pervy geto idk he tells reader to take her shirt off when she doesn’t need to so, nipple play, v in p, mentions of overstim, creampiee

suguru geto is one of the most, if not the most popular tattoo artists in your area— hell, probably even farther than that. just to book an appointment, there’s a waitlist not including the months and months he’s already booked for. so when you finally get that confirmation email after waiting for what felt like years, you physically jump up, rushing to get ready and go to the parlor

“i don’t have anyone today under that name, sorry”

suguru pushes a strand of silk black hair behind his pierced ears, the dragon tattoo on his hand moving as he does so almost like it’s taunting you.

“what? i got an email today i just-” your hand reaches into your purse slacked over your shoulder to pull out your phone and prove your appointment was today, but when you go back to check, heat spreads across your cheeks faster than ever.

the date said next month

“ya had the right day i’ll give you that” and he’s laughing. not at you but because you’re cute, he thinks. pouting, growing hot from embarrassment. “i’ll tell you what..”

he leans in and you can smell the smoke that lingers on his breath mixing like some sort of love potion with his musky cologne, his pierced eyebrow quirking, browned eyes staring into yours with puffy lips wet from licking, “i can squeeze you in tomorrow. was supposed to have an off day but ill help a pretty girl like you out, how’s that sound?”

and you’ve never nodded faster. smile pulling at your glossed lips, drawing his to get trapped underneath his teeth.

“here i’ll give you my number, i’ll text you the time ‘n stuff later”

with that, you leave his parlor, your number scribbled on the back of some old receipt next to your name and a heart.

geto’s no better than a man. no better. he goes home that night and texts you as soon as he’s tucked into bed.

hey this is suguru btw.

your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and you smile at the notification. it almost felt unreal, someone who felt so unreachable, someone like geto in your phone, texting you first.

hey!

he catches himself smiling at the message too, his mind trailing back to seeing your pretty face when you walked into the parlor. the way you looked around doe-eyed like a little deer in headlights. looked innocent, and he liked that. maybe a little too much, his dick twitching against the fabric of his boxers.

he only talked to you for a few minutes. barely even held a conversation, but god did you look good. can’t blame him for getting like this.

what time is good for you? like i said, im supposed to be off but had no plans so any time is fine.

your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you think of what to say in response. you’re nervous. and if you knew he was jerking his cock, you’d be even more. his hand slowly .. very slowly rubbing his leaky tip, his head full, overflowing and bubbling with thoughts of you. what are you doing right now? are you in bed too? squeezing his warm balls, cupping them, teasing himself, imagining it’s your sweet little hands.

is 6 pm okay?

the little buzz drags him from his thoughts.

yea. see you then, pretty.

the simple little pet name makes you feel like you’re going to explode. so warm all over your body, and you wish you could just time travel to the next day and see him already.

geto brings the palm of his large hand to his face, lolling his tongue out to lick long stripes on it, shivering at the feeling of his own piercing before wrapping around the base of his thick cock, stroking himself only two times. this won’t do.

he reached for the pocket pussy he keeps nested deep in his drawer. leaning over to let spit fall and dribble into the clear toy before rubbing it on his tip.

groaning, “shiiiiittt” his hips bucking up as he slowly lets it sink down— body twitching at the feeling of all the little bumps and ridges massaging his sensitive cock.

“fu- fuck juuuust like that, mhhhm”

imagining he’s inside your tight little walls, squishing him like he’s meant for you, snug and tight like a puzzle piece.

his chest heaved with every snap of his wrist, spit sinking out and ringing out the base of his cock leaking down to his heavy balls, “feel so fucking good baby”

so fast he’s already shooting into the toy, whining because it’s not you. wishing it was you, your warm walls probably feel so much better. probably sound so cute taking him from behind or from the front, your eyes locked onto his.

he came so much it’s leaking all over himself. so messy and dirty and he brings the toy up and licks it all out, shoving his tongue inside the rubbery walls to flick and clean it up.

“shit”

the next day came too slowly. to you but especially to suguru. he went to the parlor an hour earlier to open and tidy up, pulling his raven locs into a ponytail, letting a few stray strands fall and frame his face, counting each and every second.

and then he hears it. the little ding as the door opens, you push it open smiling up at him as you walk through and you look even better than he remembered. and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure.

he nods at you, giving you a small smile, “so what did you want to get, and where?”

at your reply he freezes, his hands almost crumbling up the paperwork he reached for you to fill out — “my chest”

“your chest?”

he parrots you. then he repeats it in his head a few more times. picturing you pull your little top up.

he can tell you’re not wearing a bra with how your nipples perk up and poke through the flimsy, almost see-through fabric.

you nod your head, mhm sounding and bubbling past your lips.

god, you’re going to be the death of him.

after you finish with all the paperwork, he pulls you into the back making small talk asking about your day. and you indulge, asking back, finding comfort in the normality of your conversation. he’s different from what people painted him out to be and you felt relaxed in his presence.

even more when he offers you a seat, cleaning it off before slipping on some black gloves. his hands almost bulge out, his knuckles poking through the latex.

“can i see the design?”

you pull up the picture on your phone and he hums, “and you said your chest, right?”

again he repeats it, almost as if it’s a mantra he’s using to calm his nerves. calm his dick.

you just nod, “do i need to take my shirt off?”

and well no you don’t, not yet at least, but he says yes, reaching forward to do it for you because he’s just so sweet, right? so nice and caring, and welcoming.

and he only wraps his lips around your tits to soothe you, right? sucking, letting his teeth sink into the buds, the silver ball tracing over them. his other glove-clad hand cupping them.

sinks his cock into you just cause he wants to take care of you, right? he could tell you wanted it soo bad. your thighs pressing together so tightly when he pressed his lips against your chest with a soft, “suguru please”

“mhm let me take care of you, pretty girl, spread em, hold yourself open f’me— uh huh, juuust like that.”

your little arms shake and tremble, hooking around the back of your knees as he pushes into your tight cunt. and fuck, he was right. feels so much better than his toy.

“fuuuckk found your spot, baby, ‘s right there? yeah feel good right there?” he rolls his hips up, brushing against that spot, his thick tip kissing it, making your body twitch.

“yes— fuck yes feels so good”

right about you sounding so fucking good too— his cock twitching inside the solitude of your pretty slimy walls. shivering at how you suck and milk him so well, so tight and warm. so fucking warm. feels so good he’s already close, but he wants to keep making you feel good, keep hearing you, and if he was to fuck his cum into you, overstimulating his needy cock to do that, then so be it.

“inside” you whine out at how he twitches, his stokes sputtering and faltering as he languidly pushing into your sopping pussy, leaking all over him, so wet.

“ohh — fuck ohfuck” and it pushes him over the edge, bottoming out to overfill you, make you nice and creamy ‘cause you deserve it. deserve it for being so good, making him feel so good.

letting his head fall onto your shoulder sweat sprinkling his forehead as he empties himself for you. for your pretty pussy, all for you.

[delayed-affection]

hi! new to the blog but really love it :) could you do a Joe Burrow oneshot where reader shows up to a game wearing someone else’s jersey by accident and he gets a little jealous <3

Wrong Jersey

Joe burrow x reader

Oneshots Navigation

Warnings: none?

Word count: 1.5k

You were in a rush when getting ready for one of Joe’s games. Having just got off of work it was hell trying to get ready and leave when you needed to.

Joe made a special request for today’s game and that was for you to wear one of his jerseys.

So you did… Well you thought you did.

When you on your way out you just pulled out one of the many jerseys that he owns. Based on the color you thought it was his LSU one but it was Ja’marr’s.

You didn’t notice until you got to the stadium and someone complemented it. Making you do a double take on the jersey number on your chest.

You think about heading to the team store but it was packed with people. Sighing and head to your seat in the box with his family.

When you finally sit down your phone chimes.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket and unlocking it, opening your message app you see Joe’s name at the top of your screen.

It’s probably just his usual pregame message I think, which usually just consists of wish me luck and I love you’s.

Opening the text, The message reads…

‘Hey babe, I have a small favor to ask.’

You quickly send a message back, ‘Yeah, what is it?’

You watch as the three little dots come up and disappear.

‘So when you got dressed today, you grabbed a jersey, right?’

Fuck, you think to yourself before typing, ‘Yeah, why?’

Already having a feeling that he’s going to ask for a picture.

‘Can you send me a picture of you in the jersey?’

You take a deep breath unsure of how he will react to you having the wrong jersey on. Lifting up your phone you take a quick pic for him.

Snapping a photo and hitting send. Almost instantly he replies.

‘Is that Ja’marr’s jersey?’

You could see the three dots at the bottom of the screen to indicate that he was typing again.

But they disappear and no text comes through.

You try texting a quick apology just in case you had upset him.

‘I’m sorry, it was an accident I’ll triple check next time.’

Sending the text only for it to be left on delivered.

A few moments later the game starts.

Joe is out on the field stretching with the rest of the boys not looking very happy.

The first half of the game, Joe was on fire, making incredible plays and leading the team to a comfortable lead. None of his passes however going to Ja’marr.

Joe heads into the locker room for halftime.

By this point, you’re starting to worry if he’s genuinely upset with you.

After a while, he hasn’t replied to your text message and starts feeling a little bad.

A few minutes later the team comes out of the tunnel and takes the field once again. The game continues with Joe playing even better than he did in the first half.

He’s running more or doing more handoffs, anything but throwing the ball to his right hand man.

Joe was playing incredibly well considering the fact that he hasn’t even thrown a pass in the direction of his usually primary receiver.

The boys manage to secure a 42-21 victory by the end of the game.

The team gets off the field and heads into the locker room while the crowd of Bengals fans and away fans filter out of the stadium.

Unsure if you want to go down and see him or head home and wait for him there.

You sit in your seat for a while until friends and family clear out of the box you’re sitting in. Leaving you alone in the now nearly empty box suite for a few minutes.

Joe still hasn’t replied to your text or even acknowledged you since he saw you in the wrong jersey, leaving you worried about his reaction to seeing you after the game.

After waiting for a while you eventually decide that you’ll start to make your way to the parking lot to head home.

Maybe getting out of the Jersey before he sees you is the best decision of all.

You head over to your car and climb into the driver’s seat. Sitting there for a moment, you pull your jersey over your head and put it into the passenger seat.

You start up the car and begin driving home.

You drive home in silence, listening to the radio on your way there. It’s a quiet drive home, almost eerie.

After pulling up the car in the driveway and turning it off, you get out of the car and head inside.

You enter the house and toss your keys on the counter. Shutting the door behind you.

Knowing you have some time before he gets home you decide to put on an actual shirt and order some of his favorite food.

You change into a simple shirt and put your order in.

Taking a seat on the couch in your living room and trying to relax your nerves in the silence.

Waiting for him to get home.

After a while of quiet, you start to hear noises from outside.

You hear his car pull into the driveway and the engine shut off.

His car door shut followed by the sound of the front door opening and shutting behind him.

Joe walks into the living room and sets his keys and wallet on the coffee table. He does everything but look in your direction.

He finally looks in your direction.

He sees you sitting on the couch and he immediately looks down at what you’re wearing.

“So, you changed.”, he says gruffly.

“I did.”, you nod speaking softly.

He walks over and takes a seat in the chair across from you. There’s a slight tension in the air.

“You know, I thought I made it pretty clear that I wanted to see you in my jersey.” He says with a slight tone of annoyance.

“I know, it was a mistake. I put it on without looking at it, I was in rush.” You explain to him.

Joe sighs and rubs his forehead, the irritation showing on his face, “You didn’t even notice that you had on the wrong jersey?”

You shake your head, "Not until I got to the stadium."

"So you're telling me that you walked into that stadium with a jersey that had Ja'marr's name on the back on and you didn't think that it might upset me just a little?" His voice carrying a tone of jealousy.

"It was a pure accident, Joe, I'm sorry." You tell him, “I wouldn’t have done it on purpose.”

"You're sorry?" He asks, lifting his head up.

"Do you know how badly it ticked me off to knowing that you were walking around with that jersey on? You might as well have had one with Mahomes on it."

He let's out a small huff and crosses his arms, "Do you not understand that I wanted to see you in my jersey, not his?"

"I-..." You sigh and stand up, marching over to the bedroom.

He stands up and follows you.

"Where are you going?" He asks, frustration evident in his voice.

Opening the closet and taking out one his jerseys, making sure this one has his last name and number on it.

You slip off your shirt and pull on the jersey.

Joe stands in the doorway as he watches you pull his jersey over your head. He glances up and down, looking you over.

"Is this better for you?" You huff motioning to the jersey.

"It's better than the last one, yes." He says with a slight nod.

He can't deny that seeing you in his jersey didn't make his heart start to beat faster.

It wasn't even a sexual thing, seeing you wear his clothes just made him happy.

He wanted to claim you, he wanted to make sure the world knew that you are his and only his. And you wearing Ja’Marr’s jersey definitely did not get that message across.

He walks over to you and steps closer, towering over you, looking down at you, "Do you understand why it bothered me seeing you in another man's jersey?"

He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze, "Because you're mine and I don't want anyone else thinking they have a chance with you."

His hand glides up to your chin and gently lifts your face up, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

The look on his face has changed, the irritation has been replaced with a combination of lust and possessiveness.

The sight of you in his jersey, looking up at him with those innocent eyes, it's making his mind go into a frenzy.

He leans down and plants his lips on your neck.

He kisses up the sensitive skin to your ear.

"You look good in my jersey." He whispered in a low tone, his breath hot against your skin, "Let's keep it that way."

[watchmegetobsessed]

TOO SWEET

A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNING: mention of blood and bruises

SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life. 

You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment. 

“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”

It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer. 

Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.

But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming. 

You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason. 

The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. 

Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time. 

You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.

Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.

The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.

Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”

Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant. 

“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone. 

You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him. 

“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.

“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync. 

His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin. 

“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.

“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you. 

“I feel like I’m ruining you.”

“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”

“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.

Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss. 

“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you. 

You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.

“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.

“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.

“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”

Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly. 

“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.

“Absolutely.”

Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.

“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.

“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh. 

“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.

“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[pedrospatch]

not a thing

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

part ii

summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. implied smut, but no actual smut. grumpy Joel, Ellie is a little shit.

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: nervous to write for TLOU but still giving it a shot! poor Ellie for being subjected to what i am about to subject her to lol. Edit: holy shit, i did not expect this to get much attention. thank you all sm for reading, liking and reblogging!

It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do.

So, so, so fucking stupid.

You knew that.

And Joel knew that.

You two were supposed to have been standing watch.

Not to mention, there had been a teenaged girl sleeping close by, just mere fucking yards away from the two of you had been—

Jesus Christ.

Dammit, you and Joel fucking knew better than to be this goddamn stupid.

Careless.

But neither of you could help yourselves.

It had been several weeks—actually, it had been several months since you two had been able to steal a private moment for yourselves. That moment would have been missed had you not somehow woken up in the middle of the night, only to find Joel wide awake, his rifle in hand as he stood watch while you and Ellie had slept. You’d offered to take his place for a few hours so he could get some rest too, but instead, a few minutes and many, many desperate, feverish kisses later, the two of you found yourselves on the other side of Bill’s old white and blue Chevrolet pickup truck, Joel’s jeans unzipped and your own jeans pulled down around your knees along with your underwear. He’d had you bent over, but still standing at a point where you could peek over the bed of the truck so that you could somehow keep a watchful eye out in between the moments of mind-numbing pleasure—both for any signs of potential danger and also for Ellie, who was passed out, curled up into a little ball in her sleeping bag and completely unaware of what her two reluctant protectors were doing behind the vehicle right next to her.

Your bottom lip was busted, bruised from biting down on it so hard.

The deal had been no noise, not even a single whimper, although you couldn’t remember how well either of you had stuck to that rule in the heat of the moment. It had been a quick fuck, just enough to give you and Joel some much needed relief from all of those pent up stresses and frustrations you two were carrying on your shoulders since Ellie had entered your lives just the week before. And just like back in the Boston QZ, Joel said nothing to you once it was over and done with.

It never hurt your feelings. It was just how things were.

It was some sort of twisted, fucked up unspoken pact the two of you had. 

Joel Miller fucked you, and then he just pretended like nothing ever happened, not until the next time he found himself buried inside of you.

It’s not like you expected Joel to return your feelings.

Hell, you weren’t even sure the man knew how to feel anything but anger, bitterness, and violence. 

Afterwards, Joel took you up on your offer to keep watch and slept for a couple of hours until sunrise came and had you both moving, packing up the truck and getting ready to continue the long drive ahead to Wyoming.

“She’s been oddly quiet,” Joel mumbled to you as he packed up the remnants of the small campsite into the bed of the pickup truck. “Go check on her.”

Obediently, you nodded and dropped the sleeping bag in your hands before turning away and walking over to where Ellie was sitting cross legged on the ground, her fingers mindlessly fiddling with a small, broken tree branch on the ground. “Hey,” you offered her a small smile. “It’s almost time to get going. You doing alright over here?”

She looked up at you and gave you a small nod. “Yeah. Just cold as fuck since we can’t have a fucking fire going,” she said, tossing a tiny glare over in Joel’s direction. “But other than that? I’m just fucking peachy.”

You chuckled and shrugged out of your worn out, brown windbreaker jacket. You draped it over Ellie’s shoulders before taking a seat beside her on the ground. She may have been a thorn in Joel’s side—then again, who wasn’t a thorn in Joel Miller’s side—but you’d warmed up to her fairly quickly. A lot quicker than your partner, anyway. He was still a work in progress.

“Did you sleep okay?”

Ellie nodded, clutching your jacket close. “Kinda,” she shrugged her small shoulders. “The ground was really hard and uncomfortable. I woke up a couple of times throughout the night and had trouble falling back asleep.”

Your smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh? You did?”

Noticing the sudden change in your demeanor, a small smirk crossed the girl’s face. “I knew you and McGrumps over there were a thing.”

You nearly choked on your own saliva as you nervously sputtered out, “W-What the hell are you talking about?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow at you, shooting you a knowing look as her smirk widened.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Ellie had caught you and Joel while you two were—fucking?

Mortified did not even come close to cutting it.

“Oh god,” You muttered, your face on fire. 

“I really hope you two are being smart and using protection,” she added teasingly. “What’s that saying? Wrap it before you tap it?”

“Ellie!” You hissed, glancing over your shoulder. Joel went about his business and it was times like these where you were actually thankful that his hearing wasn’t what it used to be. You turned back to her and quickly started trying to explain yourself. “Ellie, I don’t know what you think you saw but—”

“Oh, it was too dark to see anything. I heard you guys.” She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “Back behind the truck.” She paused, thoroughly enjoying every single moment of complete and utter discomfort she was causing you. “You know, if that’s gonna keep happening, I’m really gonna need you guys to find me a Walkman with some headphones. Noise cancelling headphones, please and thank you.”

You dropped your head into your hands and anxiously rubbed your face with your palms. “Fuck. I’m really sorry, Ellie,” Was all that you could say.

What else could you say?

Sorry you had to hear me getting fucked by my partner while you were laying just feet away in your sleeping bag?

“Sorry for what? For not being able to keep it in your pants?” Ellie giggled, slapping your knee with her hand in an attempt to get you to lighten up. “I get it. Nature. Hormones. Biology and shit.”

You lifted your face from your hands. “Joel can’t know,” You warned her. “Or he won’t be able to look you or me in the eye ever again.”

Ellie groaned in exaggeration, throwing her head back. “Aw, come on! I really wanted to see him squirm.”

“Me squirming should be fucking enough you little shit,” You laughed, shoving her playfully with your elbow. Once both of your giggles had subsided, in a more serious tone, you told her, “And for the record, we are not a thing.”

Ellie stared at you in disbelief. “Get out of here, you lying sack of shit! You totally are!”

“I know it’s hard to understand. But just because two people—” You trailed off, trying to choose your words carefully. It was more often than not that you had to remind yourself that despite what Ellie had been through and all she had seen, she was still fourteen. A fucking child.

“Bump uglies?” she suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

You sighed. “Jesus Christ, please don’t ever fucking say that out loud again.” You paused briefly, running a hand through your hair. “But yes. Just because two people do what he and I were doing, that doesn’t mean anything. For a lot of people, it can be quite meaningless actually. It does not mean they are a thing. Me and Joel? Not a thing. Understood?”

Ellie blinked. “That’s probably the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Even before last night, I knew you two were a thing. Whether either of you admit it or not. I can tell.”

You knew better than to play into what she was saying, but the sheer curiosity got the better of you.

What had Ellie noticed about you and Joel?

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged, bringing her knees up to her chest. “I dunno. The way you look at him. The way he looks at you. He’s a guy who doesn’t seem to give a shit about too many things or too many people. But I know he does give a shit about you. He cares about you. Even if he might have a shitty ass way of showing it.”

You glanced back over at Joel and then back at Ellie, confused.

“And you can deny it all you want. But if there’s one thing that stone cold asshole cares about, it’s definitely you,” Ellie stated firmly.

Your mouth fell open slightly, unsure what to say to her.

“What the hell are you two yappin’ about over there?” Joel called, looking over his shoulder.

“Nothing!” Ellie practically sang, causing him to roll his eyes and turn his attention back to his task.

“Well then, get off your asses and let’s get a fuckin’ move on. Ain’t got time to waste.”

[elliyoyo]

The Time You Thought Too Loud (Gale Dekarios/Reader)

This is Part 1 of 5 times Gale got teased + 1 time he got his payback. If you're starting, this is right place :) I'll be posting the descriptions and prompts on My Masterlist so you know what to expect, but this will be posted one chapter at a time.

Desc: You catch Gale conjuring his goddess, and he gives you a quick legend in the arcane. You can't help but fantasize about him after he gives you the most wanton look known to man.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, afab reader, vague f!masturbation, and fantasizing (including p in v, f!receiving oral, and creampies).

Words: 1.5k

After a long day's running around, all you wanted was some rest. You had used what seemed like tons of extra supplies because of your own mistakes, you didn't know if your left pinky finger would ever feel the same, and you were completely over today. Hell, you were over this week already, and it only just started!

Despite all of that, however, you couldn't help but focus on (and grow curious about) a low shimmering noise from across your group's makeshift camp. It could only be described as weave incarnate, and the most magic you could do was a measly fire bolt… How were you supposed to fake not being interested?

When you look in that direction, you see a faint blue light coming from Gale's area, which confirms your sixth sense for the weave and draws you in even more. You push yourself up from your bedroll and take a sip from a nearby bottle of water before heading over to check out the small commotion. A small projection floats above Gale's hand, a portrait of a beautiful, straight-haired woman whose look alone commanded attention and grace.

You stare for a moment more, taking silent steps up behind him to get a closer look, a finer examination of all the details on her delicate face… The earring she had in common with Gale.

"Oh my, you startled me!" Gale finally notices your presence, jumping in place as the projection vanishes. "I, uh… I was miles away," he mumbles, hands coming together behind his back. Even though you had seemingly interrupted him, there was no hint of irritation or anger, only embarrassment.

"Is everything alright?"

"Of course! I was just… practicing an incantation!" He flashes you an effortless, but emotionless grin, clearly trying to get you to go about your evening. That wouldn't work on you, though.

"Hmmm… Gale, I think there's more to it than that. The figure I saw; she means something to you, I'm sure of it. You can be honest; I'd like to say I had a pretty tame reaction to Astarion's vampirism and Shadowheart's Sharran worship." You can't help but physically respond to him as well with a raised eyebrow and a hand flying to your hip.

"She does. She… is Mystra. I cannot quite describe it, the need I sometimes feel to see her--- to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence." His eyes have glazed over, staring off in the distance towards nothing as if he was now conjuring her up, detail by detail, in his mind. Of course, Mystra was important to him, but no ordinary devotee would feel so desperately drawn to see their idol. "No sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies; The weave. Mystra is all magic, and as far as I'm concerned, she is all creation."

"I didn't realize the depth of your devotion." There is a twinge of jealousy, even though there is no reason for it to be there. You have no relationship with this man besides both being survivors, just as there is no reason for you to feel anything towards this goddess.

"Magic is my life. I've been in touch with the Weave for as long as I can remember. There's nothing like it. It's like music, poetry, and physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses…" He shows off for a moment, flashing lights and shapes between his hands and in front of your face. Impressive, but he's certainly holding back, not revealing too much of his hand yet.

"Would you like to experience it firsthand?"

"Yes, of course I would!" Personal magic lessons from the magic prodigy? Maybe you were wrong to think there was nothing here. He could have thunderwaved you across camp by now if he had been bothered by your intrusion.

"Then follow my lead." He poises his hands up, doing a quick (easily copied) movement that has you feeling ready and at ease.

"Excellent! Now, repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."

"Okay, uh… Ah-Thran Mystra… Ryl, Kantrach-Ao!"

"Very good, and I know it's exciting, but no need to shout," he laughs out, doing his best to hold his arms and hands steady. "Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can."

You let your thoughts and consciousness fade from being at camp, next to Gale, with a mindflayer worm in your gods damned head, to your childhood. Early. Before it had the chance to get bad. Picking dandelions with your friends from the spots of land surrounding your family's. Birds chirping, the smell of fresh baked bread wafting out your kitchen window. Not a drop of blood or a tear in sight. And suddenly, as if you'd been doing it your entire life, the state of calm you'd achieved pushed out a burst of Weave. Gale's eyes widened for a moment, but quickly returned to normal before too long.

"You did it! you're channeling the Weave--- how does it feel?"

"It feels effortless… You're a wonderful teacher, Gale."

"I know." His nose crinkles when he laughs this time. It makes you feel something strange and new in your stomach, makes your throat seize and your guard immediately fall. The moment connects you two, it feels intimate in and of itself. The confidence of having just successfully performed magic, magic for gods' sake… and in front of the most awkwardly attractive wizard you could have been stuck with in this whole situation.

You can't help but think of kissing Gale. With passion, cradling his cheek and neck with a hand each. It's a knee jerk, uncontrollable want that invades your mind before you can hide it from Gale. And see it he does, he nearly chokes on his own breath while his cheeks gain a dusting of light pink and sheen.

"I… didn't think… Sorry, I wasn't expecting… that… But it is a pleasant image to be sure!" His eyes are wide open up until he chokes on his own hitched breath, the unexpectedness of such a romantic gesture tugging at his heartstrings. Making him want. He would have jumped at the chance, sure, but not now. Not with the burden it would put upon you. "…And there it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were to obtain." He meets your eyes one last time before he turns around, retreating into his tent. "Good night, I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you."

And with that, you were left alone, to wander off to your own bedroll and ignore the snores and sleep talking of your other companions. You would do anything to be in that tent after the tension you just accidentally caused, but a daydream or fantasy or two wouldn't kill you, eh?

You could only sit still for a few moments once you had gotten beneath your cover again. Your hand felt like it was physically itching, needing to slip under the loose waistband of your resting pants. Plenty of mental groaning later, you had your fingers gently, slowing moving over yourself. You think of the fact that you left each other breathless— you left Gale breathless— and that he hadn't exactly been upset by you thinking of kissing him… He seemed flattered. He looked at you with bashfulness, after being so cautious and slow to reveal himself for the first while.

It turned you on to no end.

Countless images flashed through your brain, all of them uncontrollable and barely coherent, but enough to bring you closer and closer to the edge. Gale mischievously looking up at you from between your legs, your legs well above your head as he splayed your thighs open and fucked you slowly, meaningfully… He dipped a finger down and toyed with your clit, swollen and sensitive from however many rounds he had already egged you on to do. His eyes were closed in ecstasy, his teeth digging into his lip as he tried to hide a miserable, high-pitched whimper of, "Feels so good, you feel so good, 'm gonna cum!"

And then, you came along with him, in your head. A soft moan slipped past your lips that you prayed nobody heard and sweat clung to your body and bedroll. You slipped a few fingers inside yourself while riding the orgasm out and relished in the slickness. You allowed yourself to sickly dreaming that you were full of Gale. The clarity quickly came in tow, causing you to shake your head and grimace at yourself. At the fact that the situation had made it so that basic human kindness and attention would be enough for you to finish to the thought of somebody.

You wipe your fingers off, let your mind wander around the feeling of his skin and hairs of his chest, as if it were under your cheek that night. You slipped off thinking about the kiss he'd leave on your forehead and soft murmurs you'd have in your ear.

Little did you know that a very flustered, erect Gale was now the one with a difficult night mere meters away.

[raainberry]

Cross The Line (Prologue)

« Doing something outside the bounds of acceptable behavior. »

Mina x gn!reader

synopsis - being a regular at urgent care raises suspicions but apparently also temperatures which results in the blurring of a few lines

wordcount - 1.5K

T/W - mentions of diverse injuries, stitches, and the hospital obviously. resident!mina, patient!reader angst but also fluff that’s not really fluff bc its just angst disguised as fluff. yearning if you will.

A/N - i made my research after writing🧍‍♀️girlie is NOT supposed to be alone with the patient but oh well. we’re here for the plot. happy mina day to all who celebrate!!

Mina’s movements were calculated. Precise, and accurate. She never let any room for the unexpected. It was too dangerous.

Her attention was consumed by the monitors, checking and writing down any anomalies she deemed important enough ahead of your transfer to a surgical unit. You’d come in with an open wound on your cheekbone, and pain in your arm which she quickly found out was a fracture in need of surgery.

She was known to be effective, eyes sharp and catching any detail that dared try and escape her. Like how your heartrate slightly increased on the monitor when she came in earlier, or the way you looked at her whenever you landed in the building.

She tried to ignore the familiar sense of déjà-vu washing over her, but her questions kept increasing in number. She never knew the reason behind your visits, but the nature of your injuries gave her a few clues. A broken nose, scratches, cuts and open wounds, hematomas… Five visits in the past two years, an unusual average, enough to leave an imprint on any Resident.

Something about you was odd. It pulled at a curiosity she’d vowed to ignore unless in name of the patient’s wellbeing, and you were especially good at tempting her.

For whatever reason, she was the one assigned to your case for every one of your visits. A twist of fate maybe. She’d call it incredible bad luck if she hadn’t grown that damn soft spot.

As frustrating as tending to you could be, the hours it took to do so allowed her to get a glimpse of the person behind the entire Unit’s favorite gossip column. Though that glimpse remained very surface leveled.

You were incredibly hard to read through your blatent lies, and it scared her. It made her see through herself more than she probably ever could you.

In short, she was attracted to you.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was soft despite the slight rasp in your throat. It almost made her forget about her surroundings.

“Nothing.” She cleared her throat, tearing her eyes away from your figure as fast as she’d found it.

You chuckled, your mind a little fuzzy from the local anesthesia. “Come on, we’re past that.”

Her fingers halted their motion against the clipboard in her hands, something you barely noticed but still had the strength to smirk at. It wasn’t hard getting a reaction from her, but it was hard to catch it.

You smiled to yourself, closing your eyes as the effects of the anesthesia lingered. That was something you usually kept to yourself, and Mina’s attention didn’t fail to catch that detail either.

"You know, it’s getting hard to believe you're not getting hurt on purpose." She sighed, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

"I would never break a bone on purpose.” You mumbled, wincing slightly as you adjusted yourself on the examination table. “Hurts like hell…"

"Thought you'd be a little tougher," Mina remarked in a tone that pushed your eyes open.

It was colder than you were used to. Icy and slippery.

"Yeah, well… we all have our limits, Mina." You replied quietly.

"It's still Dr. Myoui to you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips apologetically. The words would have pulled a laugh out of you if they’d ever come out of anyone else’s chest, but you knew better around her.

"What happened this time?" She asked, and the question surprised you. A glance at her eyes, now on you only out of respect, and you found out it wasn’t her own will.

Don’t be difficult, they begged. So you played along.

"Fell off a skateboard," You responded with as casual of a demeanor as you could.

She stared at you in silence, leaving you a few custom seconds to see if you'd tell her the truth this time. Instead, you offered her your best smile, and she had to hold her own back. "Do you even have a skateboard?"

"Do you need that information to treat me?"

"Just wondering."

"You seem to do that a lot…" You trailed off, leaving the words hanging in the air.

Mina left that as the last of them to be spoken for a long while, turning her focus onto some more medical nonsense you could never decipher to save your life.

Maybe that’s why your eyes always landed on her.

She could feel them, following her every move around the room, and it was hard not to meet them.

A silence you were used to settled, the quiet hum of the room fading into the tension hanging in the air.

You feigned interest in your hospital bracelet to escape it, but the sight of your own name made you look away from it. The blank ceiling was enough to distract you, but only for a moment.

Not staring at her was an effort you struggled to make even with a sound mind. The first time you’d seen her, it took you a full minute to blink. It had pulled a smile out of her, and the words she used to point it out echoed in a blurry memory.

How safe you felt in her hands that night, you sought the feeling ever since. In vain.

Your gaze bore into her, merciless against the composure she desperately tried to hold on to. Each of your visits tested it in a way she had yet to see. To feel. She would resent you if she doubted your intentions. If she doubted her own.

"How long until it's not anymore?" Your voice broke the silence, startling Mina into meeting your eyes again.

This anesthesia seemed to guide you into an uncharted territory, where the boundaries of her professionalism blurred, seeping through her fingers with your every word.

She seemed lost in the place your words had suddenly lured her into, so you offered some guidance.

"How long until I can call you Mina?"

The question lingered in the air, pulling at the veil you’d draped over your desires.

It seemed you were close to baring them, Mina exposing a glimpse with a soft bite on her bottom lip.

You’d sculpted a fragile bridge. Cracked and vulnerable to the slightest movement. You enjoyed dancing around it, but one wrong step and it all comes crumbling down.

Mina hesitated, eyes avoidant and voice soft as she stepped forward. "Maybe once you don't get hurt anymore," she murmured.

This wasn’t the first dance she invited you to. It was rare, you weren’t used to it, but you’d rehearsed enough to guide yourselves through it.

“You know, I'd love to see you somewhere else. Outside these walls, preferably," You confessed in a whisper, wary of the thin curtains separating you from the bustling building.

Those almost slipped her mind. You could tell by the silence that followed.

She put her clipboard on a free space of the table, far enough away to keep it from becoming an obstacle. Her hands reached for your injured cheekbone, carefully examining the cut she’d stitched moments ago.

A breath caught in your throat at the touch and attention, long enough to bring a few changes to the data displayed on the screen not too far from you. A change she didn’t fail to notice yet again as she went to retrieve her notes.

A quiet laugh escaped her lips, catching you off guard. You could only watch her write down whatever conclusions she’d pulled out of her observations, waiting to see if it was safe to carry on.

“Do you feel any pain?” She asked.

“Uhm...” You hummed, focusing in order to identify any pain other than the one in your heart. “Slightly. Now that you mention it.”

Mina nodded and carried on with a bunch of questions about your well-being. You answered all of them honestly, words leaving your mouth without much thought.

“Do you feel lightheaded? Any dizziness?”

“No.”

“Are you feeling thirsty, or hungry?”

“A little thirsty.”

“Can you tell me your name and where you are right now?”

“My name is Y/n, and I’m in… at the urgent care.”

"Where would you like to see me?"

Her voice had dropped a couple decibels on that one. It took a few more seconds for you to sink it in and match an answer.

"Somewhere a little more… colorful?”

Wait…

Your eyes left the spot they’d blankly focused on on the floor to find hers still ignoring you.

“I mean… I don't know, I didn't think that far," you admitted, complying to her silent wishes.

Mina let a smile slip, a rare sight that let you peek at the depth of her feelings, and her thoughts allowed her to fantasize about the world outside. The one she could share with you. "That would be nice," she admitted softly.

Your smile mirrored her own, "So… Is that a yes?" you probed, and she chuckled, ignoring your question once more as she wrapped up her duties.

Just then, a couple nurses stepped into the room, asking Mina to take you away for the transfer you were long past due for.

Your arm was in a far worse state than your face. Or your heart.

"See you in three months, Y/n.”

-

part.2

[vintagestarlight]

Massage

Summary: You give Price a massage after he gets back from a particularly hard deployment.

Pairing: John Price x fiancée!reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: mentions of injury(nothing too graphic), light sexual mentions, John Price(because let's be honest this man is a warning okay), fluff, 18+ MDNI

A/N: So Price won by a landslide in the poll😂 here's one of the fics I had planned so I hope yall enjoy! I did right this pretty drunk so apologies if it isn't great

Also, I didn't expect so many people to vote so thank you all so much!😭🫶🏼 Requets are also open!! Feel free to send in whatever you want just make sure it follows my blog rules! I've also got a few more fics in my drafts as well :)

***beware of typos(I tried my best to catch them all)

John turned the ignition off and his truck came to a stop. He looked at the house the two of you shared and smiled as he took in the warm glow coming from the window. Before you came into his life the house was cold and dark; he preferred coming home to this rather than the dark windows he used to. John opened the door and stepped out, wincing as he irritated the bruised muscles. This last deployment was harder than most; although everyone made it back alive, and for that he was thankful, going hand-to-hand with a mercenary ended with the mercenary dead but John fell from a metal walkway grate to the ground below. It resulted in a number of bruises, scratches, and a sprained shoulder.

John lifted his duffle bag out of the back seat and thought about how you would fret over the bruises that blemished his skin. You always checked him when he came home to see if he gained any new scars or broken body parts and he found it endearing. He walked slowly toward the door, his sore body preventing him from going faster. He dug in his pocket for his key and slipped it into the lock before stepping inside. “Love I’m home,” He called out, setting his duffle bag down by the door with a sigh of relief to have the weight off of his injured shoulder; he had a brace that kept him from moving his shoulder but it did nothing for the annoying pain of putting weight on it.

“Back here!” He heard your voice coming from the shared bedroom so he toed off his boots and walked down the hallway. He saw soft light coming from the bathroom and when he walked in he saw something that made his breath catch in his throat. You were in the bathtub with your hair loosely pulled back and sipping on a glass of wine, candles casting a warm illuminating glow. It wasn't anything overly sexual but it still made his face flush; here he was nearing forty and you made him feel like a school boy. “Hey love,” he said, taking in the sight of you before bending down and giving you a kiss. “I’m so glad you’re home,” You said, a heavy weight finally lifting off your chest at seeing your fiancée back in one piece. The black brace over his beige shirt was not lost on you but you didn’t say anything as you decided it was not as bad as it could be. “How’s the bath?” John asked. “You could always join me and find out,” You said, taking a sip of the red wine, looking at him over the rim of the glass. “Now how could I say no to that?” He smirked.

He took off the brace that was nothing but uncomfortable before undoing his belt and stripping off his pants. He slipped off his shirt, wincing as his shoulder twinged, and heard you gasp. “John!” You did your once over to ensure he hadn’t come home severely injured when your eyes landed on the bruises that colored his torso. “What the hell happened?” You asked, wincing when you thought about what could’ve caused such bruises. “If I told you that love, you’d be even more frantic,” He chuckled. “Don’t laugh John!” You chastised. John slipped in behind you after stripping completely, groaning at the warm water, and let you rest against him. “I’m sorry love but don’t freak out too much,” He replied. “They really do look worse than they are,” He added, planting a kiss on your head. He felt you relax more, as if you were afraid of hurting him, and he sighed. The weight of you pressed against him was actually comforting and he wrapped his arms around you. “At least you came home to me alive,” You said. “Just like I promised,” John replied, a long sigh leaving his body.

The two of you just sat there for a little while, your thumb absentmindedly grazing John’s arm; grateful to have your fiancée back. You felt him rest his head on your shoulder and his weary body sagged as he relaxed. You shifted and accidentally pressed your weight on one of John’s bruises and he grunted. “I’m sorry babe!” You said, turning around to sit on his lap carefully trying to avoid the purple-ish tender spots. “Don’t worry I’m tougher than I look,” He joked, running his hands along your sides. “You know,” You started, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I think I know of a way to make you feel better,” You said in a slow voice. “Oh yeah? I think I’m liking where this is going,” John replied, planting a kiss on your nose, then your cheeks, and finally your lips. ‘Hmm… I like the way you think but I was actually thinking about a massage,” You said. “Help those aching muscles,” You offered and smiled as he smirked. “Now that’s a good way to welcome a man home,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Why don’t you go lay on the bed and I’ll dry off and get the oil,” You suggested and stepped out of the tub.

You felt John’s hungry eyes on you and you grinned; John always made you feel desirable even on your worst day. You heard the water splash as John stepped out after pulling the plug, dripping water on the floor. You wrapped yourself in a towel and felt him swat your ass, eliciting a squeal out of you as he laughed. “Don’t take too long,” He said. John also grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself, being mindful of his injuries, and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. You emerged from the bathroom with a bottle of baby oil and saw John lounging on the bed, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched your towel clad body. “See something you like?” You teased, before dropping the towel leaving you stark naked and John groaned. “I think you should stay like this all the time,” He said, a bit disappointed when you pulled on a bra and panty set. “I suggest you settle down; you’re not exactly in peak condition for sex,” You chuckled. “Come on turn over,” You said, and waited until he was laying on his stomach, arms relaxed.

You got on top of him and straddled his hips, taking notice of the scratches on his back. There were several silver lines across his body from his several years of military service. You had counted every scar on his body countless times so you could always know when he got new ones. But these scratches were new; red and fresh in contrast to the silver healed scars. You squirted a quarter sized amount of baby oil on your hands, rubbed them together, and pressed your hands firmly on John’s back. Using light pressure you began to knead his shoulders, mindful not to press too hard on his injured one, and firmly moved down to his lower back. “Jesus love,” John groaned. John felt himself further relax as you helped ease his aching muscles. You used your thumbs to press into his lower back and rub in small circles before continuing those small circles all the way up his back to his neck.

You loved feeling his skin underneath your hands; the way his muscles rippled when you touched him and it made you feel good that you were able to give him this attention. You heard grunts and moans as you continued to work on his back and shoulders, slowly massaging away the tension that rested in his muscles. You felt your tough military husband become putty under your hands and you couldn't help but grin. “You know I was thinking,” you said, feeling him tense as you needed a particularly large knot at the base of his neck. “What's that love?” He grunted, his voice slurring slightly as your hands slowly lulled him closer to sleep. “I know we had plans to go to that new French place for dinner but maybe we could stay in tomorrow?” You suggested to him. “Maybe just stay in bed and order takeout,” you continued, applying a little more oil onto your hands and rubbing your hands down his arms as he lazily nodded his head. “Would you like that?” You asked. When you didn’t get a response you looked down at his languid form and realized his breathing had become deeper and he started to snore a little. You smiled and slowly got off his back, careful not to wake him, and pulled the covers over him. “Good night John,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his cheek and turning off the lamp before climbing in bed next to him. You soon fell asleep and slept better than you had in months.

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl [3]

Part Three | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1.5K

Author’s Note: It has once again been a hot second. I love this idea so much and want to continue it. I'm really glad that all of you seem to enjoy this little fic as well. Did anyone else watch the new Daryl Dixon show? I liked it a lot more than Dead City; however, the final episode felt super lackluster, especially with all of the build-up. Maybe that's just me. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

“Like this?”

Your voice pulls Daryl out of his quiet concentration. He’d been so busy at work, sharpening the tip of the crossbow bolt in his hands, that he’d almost forgotten that you were sitting with him. Daryl’s gotten used to being alone. Hell, most of the time, being alone is better than the alternative -- being in the company of Merle Dixon. However, you are certainly nothing like Merle Dixon. 

Daryl coughs awkwardly -- trying to ground himself back in reality. It was early evening when you wandered into the Dixons’ makeshift camp. You’d finished all of your chores relatively early for the day and desperately wanted to do something instead of sitting down by the lake and gossiping with Andrea and Amy. You had attempted to find Shane, in the hope that maybe the two of you could take watch together. Since the world fell apart, you haven’t really had any time to actually talk with Shane. You can’t blame him though, his concern for Carl and Lori is admirable. And you know that if the situation were reversed, Rick would do the same and would make it his life’s mission to look out for you. You just wish your boyfriend could extend some of that comfort to you. 

That’s how you find yourself across the fire from Daryl, sharpening the crossbow bolt you made together. Daryl’s eyes shift from your face to your hands, to assess your progress. His eyes widen slightly once he notices how you’re holding the knife in your hands. You stop moving once notice the change in Daryl’s features.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Daryl watches as you physically shut down-- as if you’re preparing for him to be angry over a simple crossbow bolt. His jaw clenches at your reaction. He is angry, but not at you. No, he’s angry because he understands. He resists the urge to ask you who it was that has managed to make you feel so small and, instead, moves to the other side of the fire so that he can sit beside you.

“Nah, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just hold the knife like this, ‘lright?”

Daryl physically shows you how to hold the knife away from your body while you’re sharpening the bolt. Your eyes follow his movements for several moments before replicating them. Daryl watches you intently, nodding whenever you look over for his approval.

“Yeah, jus’ like that.”

A small smile plays at the corners of your lips at the sudden softness in Daryl’s voice. You distract yourself by watching Daryl’s careful work with the crossbow bolt in front of him. It’s obvious how much the craft means to him -- it’s quite mesmerizing to watch.

“You’re really good at this. Did your dad teach you?”

Daryl stops for just a split second and draws in a breath. He rolls his shoulders back, trying to rid himself of the thoughts that come to mind at the mention of his father. His first instinct is to lash out and shut down -- and he probably would if it were anyone else; however, you have been nothing but kind to Daryl since he and Merle arrived at the makeshift camp. The idea of chastising you for your harmless curiosity makes his stomach turn. 

Daryl clears his throat and finally releases the breath he was holding. He resumes carefully sharpening the bolt in his hands.

“I taught myself.”

You nod at his explanation, trying to ignore his change in demeanor. Just as sudden as the softness in Daryl’s features came, it is replaced by his usual indifference. It’s as if for just a split second you were able to see through the brick wall that Daryl has erected around himself. He lets his defenses down just long enough for you to see that there is warmth behind the cold front. 

“Well, it’s really impressive. I don’t know anyone else who can use a crossbow or make their own arrows.”

Daryl nods and attempts to keep a straight face, fighting off a small smile.

“It’s really not that hard. My daddy had a load of hunting gear in our garage and with Merle always getting locked up, I had a lot of time to practice.”

You resist the urge to ask him more about his past. Based on his previous reaction, you can tell that it’s not a topic he’s comfortable with. Before you can change the subject, a rustling in the surrounding woods grabs both of your attention. You freeze in place, expecting the worst; however, Daryl springs into action. He grabs his crossbow and places his body in front of yours -- in this position, he’s managed to shield you from the source of the noise.

Daryl readies his aim and you brace yourself for a potential fight; however, before he can release the trigger, you grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks. Instead of a walker, Shane and Lori emerge from the woods. The smile on Shane’s face fades into a deep scowl as he takes in the scene before him. 

“What the hell is going on here?”

His words are laced with venom as his eyes narrow at Daryl, who still hasn’t lowered the crossbow. You give Daryl’s arm a gentle squeeze, silently pleading with him to not escalate the situation. He shakes off your touch but lowers the crossbow. You move in front of Daryl, hoping to diffuse the situation.

“Relax Shane, Daryl was just showing me how to make some arrows.”

Shane ignores you completely. His eyes don’t even leave Daryl as you speak.

“I told you to stay the fuck away from her.”

His voice raises and Daryl notices how you shrink away from Shane as he takes an aggressive step forward. His eyes narrow at Shane, who continues to dismiss you. Now he knows who made you feel so small. A surge of anger rises within Daryl, along with the need to protect you -- which is quickly becoming a common feeling for him nowadays. Daryl mimics Shane’s actions, taking a step forward and sizing up the man in front of him. 

You watch the scene play out before you and before either of them can throw the first blow, you place yourself in between the two seething men. 

“I approached him. I couldn’t find you so I asked him for help, okay? Where did you go?”

Shane finally turns his attention away from Daryl and focuses on you. He places his hands on his hips as he looks down at you. Daryl’s brow furrows at the sight -- this isn’t the posture of a loving boyfriend. No, right now Shane looks like a parent scolding a child. He lets you take control of the situation; however, he anxiously observes your interaction with Shane, ready to jump in if Shane’s anger gets the better of him. 

“I was helping Lori look for Carl.”

Anger is still evident in his voice, but he seems to have settled down to a simmering rage. Daryl raises a brow at his explanation. He doesn’t say anything, but he finds it very unlikely that there would be anything less than a full search party if any of the children in camp actually went missing. Daryl shifts his gaze to Lori who is still standing on the edge of the woods. Her face is flushed, her hair is disheveled, and her clothing seems to be thrown on haphazardly. It seemed like she and Shane had gotten into some trouble out there, but neither of them have any blood on them. They both, however, are covered in dirt -- hell, Shane looks like he just rolled around the forest floor.

Oh. Oh.

Daryl looks at you, hoping you just came to the same conclusion. You know Shane is lying. In your search to find him earlier today, you noticed that Carol was watching Carl and Sophia play down by the lake. And as much as you want to call out his deception, you also don’t want to start yet another fight. 

You let out a sigh and give Shane a solemn nod. Lori uses this moment to excuse herself from the conversation -- muttering something about finishing the laundry. Shane shoots Daryl a final glare before grabbing your shoulder and pulling you away from the archer. Daryl watches you both walk away. Eventually, Shane releases his hold, leans his head down, and whispers something in your ear. You nod at whatever he says before casting your eyes toward the ground. Shane, on the other hand, stands up a bit taller at your reaction and walks off confidently. 

Daryl clenches his fists as you look in his direction. Embarrassment washes over your features once you notice that he is still watching you. Daryl frowns as you drop your head and walk off in the direction of your tent. You shouldn’t be embarrassed -- Shane should. He may have promised Shane that he’d stay away from you, but Daryl decides, at this moment, that he doesn’t give a damn. Nobody gets to treat you like that.

Taglist: @darylsl0ver@minervadashwood@hotgirlsshareaccounts@taterbbbug@dreamtofus@youcantstandit @ajlovesdilfs @prettywhenibleed @luvsvnlqt-things @evie-beanie @strnqer@marina-isabella@lissanovak@elissanatok@1tsk1tty@moejoeflow@ceoofdisappointment@jewellthebooknerd @callsignwidow @genderless-ghosty-boi

[sungbeam]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

gamer/streamer!choi beomgyu x f!reader

1.5k words, fluff/comfort, reader has hair long enough for a claw clip, strawberries, est. relationship au, the background info dump in the beginning was for my own entertainment tbh

Choi Beomgyu loved you.

Sometimes he wondered how you could possibly love someone like him—a loser who streamed League half the day away, lived in his pajamas, and dropped out of college to play video games for hundreds of thousands of people online. He barely went out of the house, unless it was to touch grass, but he had managed to snag your attention nonetheless.

He liked to joke that you were in it for his celebrity status. It was made all the more ironic, since you had no idea who he was when he'd first introduced himself to you in the self-checkout aisle of a grocery store, and you'd stared at him like he was high. Beomgyu, humbled to all hell, had stuttered out an apology and bowed about ninety degrees—then asked for your number like a normal person.

Ah, good times.

He'd then somehow mustered up enough swagger to date you for two years and counting. And now, you were moved in and got to hear him yell at a handful of computer monitors for twelve hours a day. (Love was funny, wasn't it?)

But if forever was the sweetest con, then dear god, he hoped he could pull this one off.

It was during one of his streams that he heard the front door slam from his office. He had just finished a round, and when he had heard the door but not your voice, he pushed back from his desk so he could lean back and give you a holler. "Yn! Yn-ie! Babyyyyy!"

He waited a beat.

A frown curled his mouth downward when he didn't hear your reply. Uh oh.

Tongue in cheek, Beomgyu used his feet to bring him back to his computer screen. His eyes flickered with the pace at which his chat flew past. "Hey chat, I need to check up on my girl. I'll be right back. Go get a snack or something."

With that, he dumped his headset onto the desk and raced out of the office.

He flew out into the main living space of the apartment, his eyes scanning the premises for you. With both of your incomes combined, the two of you managed to live comfortably in a nice apartment complex just north of the main city center. You both shared a bedroom and bathroom, while also getting separate, small office spaces. You used yours a lot less than he did his, but it was nice to have one in case.

Instead of your figure, he found your keys and shoes by the door, and a grocery bag on the island counter.

He backpedaled over to the bedroom next, head poking into the darkened room. His voice came out low, "Babe, you here?"

"Yeah," came your small response.

He tracked it to the bathroom, where you were hunched over your sink in the dark, your hair pulled back in a claw clip. Your face was damp like you had just washed it, but he didn't miss the way you were wiping at your eyes. Something sank in his chest, something heavy that made his body slump in dread.

"Sorry, I didn't wanna bother you," you said, forcing stability into your voice, even if it still shook a little.

You reached for your facial towel to hide your melancholy, but Beomgyu liked to think he paid more attention than you were giving him credit for.

He wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Hey, you're never a bother; you know that," he replied softly. "What's wrong, hm? How can I help?"

Your body shook with a sob as you cried into the towel. Beomgyu's chest clenched at the sound, at the feeling. God, he was right here, and yet, he felt so helpless, so useless. "It's nothing—I… I just… I'm just tired," you managed to say.

You sniffled, avoiding his eyes in the dark mirror as you set the towel aside and began washing your face again.

Beomgyu pursed his lips and sucked in a breath. "Yn-ie, you know I'm not just gonna let you go to sleep this upset, baby."

When you'd patted your face dry again, you were left with reddened, puffy eyes. You turned around to press your face into his warm chest. His arms looped around you like second nature to hold you to him.

Beomgyu gently smoothed a hand over the back of your head, letting the tension from the claw clip loosen the headache no doubt forming in your cranium. He clipped the accessory to his belt loop, quietly trying to calm your muffled cries. "Come on. Let's get some food into your stomach, okay? It'll make you feel better."

He led you out to the kitchen, helping you onto one of the bar stools while he rummaged through the grocery bag you brought home. His chest panged when he imagined you going through the grocery store while holding back tears. Had you cried there, or perhaps it had all come flooding out here?

There were a few things to add to the fridge, but he found a carton of big, red strawberries at the bottom of the bag. He released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in—you'd managed to get yourself something. Good. He was glad.

Usually in your shared household, you were the one to wash and cut and peel fruit for him. You fed him all the healthy things, kept him a normal functioning human being. You kept him sane.

So Beomgyu took the carton of strawberries out of the bag and transferred them to a colander to be washed. He then carefully sliced the stems off each berry, sliced them into halves, until the colander was empty and the bowl he had on the counter, filled.

He wiped his hands on the towel hanging below the sink, then brought the bowl of glistening red fruit before you.

"For you," he murmured, one warm palm pressed between your shoulder blades, his lips brushing a kiss to your hairline. "I'll be right back."

Beomgyu hurried back to the office to find his viewers waiting.

He braced his arm on the desk, forgoing sitting down in the chair. He swept a lock of his long hair out of his eyes as he skimmed some of the live comments in the chat. A huff of laughter, then a shake of his head. "You guys are so weird. I'm signing off for the night though—no, I don't owe you an explanation... Okay, it's my baby—yeah, yeah, I see you rampaging in the comments, Chenle."

Beomgyu wrinkled his nose playfully. "I'm not a fuckin' simp, you losers. At least I have a partner. Okay, whatever. Later, guys."

He turned off the stream with a tap of his mouse, and then he was back by your side. You seemed to have calmed down a little, but what lacked your sobbing came a sad, startling quiet. Quiet from you wasn't unusual per se, but this one felt empty.

Beomgyu stood behind your stool, one of his arms curling around your middle as he peered over your shoulder at the bowl. You'd eaten a few slices of the fruit while he was gone, but it wasn't as much as he had hoped you would have eaten.

He released a light exhale, reaching for a strawberry slice and popping it into his mouth. He leaned his head against yours. "Wanna snuggle?" He asked you quietly.

A small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, and he mentally high-fived himself. "Is that a yes?" He gasped with a childlike excitement. "You wanna snuggle with me?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice just yet, but that was okay. He heard you loud and clear.

You turned on the stool so you could wrap your limbs around his body.

Beomgyu cooed softly. "My sweet baby. I'm so sorry you have to feel this way." He kissed your head again, his arms shifting so he could hoist your body up and carry you over to the sofa with him.

He collapsed onto the sofa with a melodramatic grunt, then flopped backward so you were lying on top of his chest. He wondered, with your ear pressed against him, if you could hear just how much your proximity affected him. Even after all this time. If, maybe, you felt even a fraction of what he felt for you (just a fraction would make his heart soar). There was no way you didn't, right?

He wrapped both arms around you with a sigh. "I know you don't want to talk about it," he murmured, "just know it'll be alright. All of it. Even if it seems like the world is falling apart, even if you feel like a failure—you will get through this. I know you can; I know you will."

Your first words since earlier to him came at almost an inaudible volume. "And if I can't? What then?"

"Then I'll be here to help you," he answered. Yes, that was it. His breath was warm against your cheek, against your ear. "I'll always be here."

txt m.list

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[fangisms]

HEYY so I love your writing and have been stalking your account since yesterday 🤭 I checked and I saw ur request were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot and send a request but if you’re not interested it’s totally fine !!

I saw that you don’t have Harry on ur master list so idk if you take request for him? So I won’t request smth for him here but if you do write for him pls lmk !!

Ok now my actual request, can you write smth for Theodore Nott x fem!reader where reader is like tough and usually goes against the grain of what other people are doing and for once she decides to actually go to a party when a Some Guy starts hitting on her and she’s like obviously very not into it Theo confronts the guy and gets into a fight with him.

Like maybe they’ve known each other since they were young and when they got to hogwarts they grew apart bc they were in different houses but Theo has been like hardcore crushing on her for years lol. And like after he gets into the fight she cleans him up in the bathroom and is all like “you didn’t have to do that I can take care of myself” and he’s all like “yah I know” but feeling smug bc she’s blushing or smth and he’s all happy bc yah it’s been a while but maybe he still has a chance and doesn’t just have to watch her from afar forever 🤭

SORRY this is so long but I have been having Theo brain rot and this idea has been floating in my head for a couple days now

respectable fisticuffs

A/N: yk what i didn’t think i would but i WILL write for harry, send it in anon 🫂 also this request is so good pls gif cred: @possession

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Non-Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Battered and bruised, Theo misses you like hell and now seems like a great time to tell you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, theo gets in a physical fight, unsolicited flirting, cursing, tw blood/wounds, kissing, lots of ‘bellissima’, soo much pining

"What's she doing here?" Mattheo welcomes Pansy with a kiss on the cheek, leering at you like he's amused by your presence.

"I convinced her to show up, so pretty please don't scare her away," Pansy coos, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing towards the couches.

"It’s a your lucky day," he huffs, guiding you towards the sound of drunken laughter and song. "I know someone who's dying to see you."

"Don't we all," you tease. By the looks of it, he's leading you into the belly of the beast—a group of Slytherin boys crowded around a brassy gramophone. "So, who exactly is dying to see me?"

"Don’t play dumb, sweetheart... you know who," he whispers before slinking off to find a drink.

"Mattheo!" you shout, "Coglione." Maybe you should hunt Pansy down. She's the one who forced you to come after all, she deserves to bear witness to your misery.

Theo had no idea you were coming. If he had, he might've tried a little harder to impress. You look just as beautiful as the last time you ignored him, and it's not helping his crush in the slightest. Over the years, he's grown a real talent for watching you from afar. Since the sorting hat took you away from him, it's all he can do any more, and suffice to say, he misses you like hell even now.

As he's mulling it over in his head, you glance over at him. He thinks your gaze will dart away like it always does while he take a drag of his cigarette. But you wave. You hold up your hand and wave. At him. And he nods back like some nonchalant idiot. He loves the way your eyes always seem to sparkle just before you look away.

Theo waits until you've visibly relaxed to approach you. And just as he's mustering up the courage to leave his chair, Graham Montague spills his drink down your shirt.

"Shit," Graham pants, stumbling forward and clasping onto your waist for dear life. He looks down at your top—or rather, down your top—and chuckles to himself. "Might actually be an improvement."

"You smell like piss," you say. He palms your shoulder and laughs, leaning closer to mumble low in your ear.

"Does that mean you like it?" His fingers flex against your collar bone and trail up the length of your neck. You want to vomit.

Just then, his body falls limp to the ground with a thud, and you gasp, turning to see Theo looming beside you.

"Theo!" you shout, but he gently sweeps you aside, falling to his knees and taking a fistful of Graham's soiled collar.

"Get off of me—ow, prick," Graham whines, clawing at Theo's shoulder and reaching to scratch at his face. Theo slams his back hard against the floorboards with a sharp inhale before landing a punch to his face. Graham lets out a yelp and whimpers when Theo stands above him. Theo presses his boot to the palm of Graham's hand.

"Go near her again, and you'll lose your hand entirely," Theo seethes. Mattheo finally yanks him away with a snicker, guiding him to the stairwell. But not before Theo shouts, "Mangia merde e morte."

"Alright, dickhead, I think you've made your point," Mattheo says, squeezing Theo's shoulders as his eyes zip back and forth wildly, looking any and everywhere he can.

"Where is she?"

"Calm down—"

"Mattheo, you know where she is. Tell me," he huffs. If it weren't for the haunted look in his eye, Mattheo would've kept his mouth shut. But he knows how bad his friend needs this. How bad he needs you.

"She's upstairs. Told her she could borrow our bathroom."

"Sei come un fratello per me, thank you," Theo whispers.

"Yeah, yeah," Mattheo says, "you owe me one." Theo leaves him a kiss on the cheek before taking the steps two at a time.

The light from the boys' bathroom seeps through the crack in the door. It's the only light in the whole dorm, and he can see your shadow as it crosses back and forth. He feels like he's out on the field before a championship game or about to take an exam he didn't study for. His hands feel weak when he reaches for the doorknob.

He presses his ear to the door before opening it any further. "May I come in?"

You shuffle around, and he hears you approach the door on tender foot. He can't take the way you open the door and stand back like you're faced with some predator. He hasn't spoken to you in so long, all he wants is to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Theo?" you say, shutting the door behind him as he goes to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"Don't say that," he says, carding his fingers through his hair. He groans at the pain shooting up his fingers.

You look over him softly. Subtly, so he won't notice, but he's gotten good at noticing you.

"Are you hurt?"

He looks at his knuckles, sprinkled with blood, and feels for the scrape on his cheek.

"No—"

He doesn't have time to explain himself before you're kneeling at his side, dabbing a cold towel against his jaw and tilting his chin up.

"It's worse than you think, Theo," you hum, pressing the damp cloth to the column of his neck as he swallows.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"You idiot," you say. He hisses when you hold his jaw and turn his head, wiping the shallow gash on his cheek. Most of the blood is not his, which is a good sign. That doesn't stop you from wanting to yell at him, though. He can tell with the way you're frowning as you wet the dried blood on his warm skin.

"I had it under control, you know,” you say.

He can't help but smile at your determination. He always admired that about you. Too stubborn for your own good. And his.

"I know."

Your eyes drift across his brow, narrowly avoiding the eye contact he so craves. He drinks in the curve of your lashes, the sweetness of your cheek, the way your thigh is pushed against his knee.

"He was harmless. And drunk. And you should’ve known better."

"I know," he huffs. You toss the pink-tinged towel into the bowl of the sink.

"We're not kids anymore, I don't need you to protect me." You stay knelt at his feet, focused on your knees digging into the cold tile. It makes you sad to think about you and him like this. You used to be friends. Best friends, in fact, the kind of friends adults would say were 'joined at the hip'. You used to cry over being sorted into different houses, but you got over it. That's life. You figured he moved on and so should you. Maybe neither of you moved on in the end.

"Look at me." His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you meet his soft green eyes.

"Bellissima..."

"You are such an idiot," you huff. Theo looks down at you like he's been waiting to all his life. Like he's been cursing that very first day since it happened.

"I miss you," he coos, fingers twitching where they're rested on his knees. "I miss having you close to me."

"That's not fair."

"Not fair?"

You look away. "No."

"How?"

Oh, and you hate the way he smiles when he knows he's about to get what he wants. He knows exactly how to get you flustered. That's exactly why he was your first kiss. And your second.

"Come on, bellissima... tell me you miss me," he whispers, leaning his elbows onto his knees to be closer to you. To have his nose brush the tip of your own. He craves the shape of your mouth now more than ever.

Then you look at him. Him and his dastardly grin, how the charm pours out of him in gobs. The hair sweeping across his forehead and how you always catch him looking at you how he is now. Innocent and longing. Like you’re beautiful. Like you’re his again.

“Of course I miss you,” you sob, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, “I miss you, Theo.”

“Oh, bella,” he says, fitting himself into your arms, knees pressed to either side of your own as he slides to the floor. You shudder against his body, and he holds you tighter. “I never want to be without you.”

You pull away just to look at him, his face, the way time has changed him. He has his hands on your waist when you lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he waits for another. You swipe your thumb where you’d just pressed your lips, and you kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiles, eyes still gently shut as he manouvres his fingertips to the curve of your bottom lip. And you kiss him.

masterlist

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, hating loki for what he's done, only one bed trope

Summary: You hate Loki and everything he stands for. He ruined a bunch of lives, and you don't want to hear some bullshit on how the mind stone influenced him. He knows he's not a bad person, and he has to figure out a way to prove that to you.

Squares Filled: “god, if only you knew what you did to me.” (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You take some puzzle books and shove them into your bag along with some coloring books and markers. Where you’re going is known to have spotty Wi-Fi service despite you having the best service, so you’re making sure to bring something to do when you can’t get online. The last thing you put into your bag is noise-canceling headphones so you don’t have to listen to Loki yap the whole time.

The thought of him makes you so angry. You slam your headphones into your bag and zip it up angrily. You’re more than happy to go on missions for the team, but you’re not happy with going on missions that Loki is going on. Even worse, you two are going to be alone for this one. This is a highly sensitive mission that can only have a couple of people on it, and they chose you and him.

You haul your bag to the living room where Natasha and Tony are waiting for you. Loki is still getting ready but he can take his fucking time. You don’t like Loki and you’re not shy about it. Everyone, including him, knows your dislike for him.

“Where’s the fire?” Nat asks when you stomp past her.

“I don’t know why I’m going on this mission. Why can’t you go?”

“You can hack your way through anything. Right now, we need that skill. I’m not a hacker. I kill things to get what I want. You sneak in the back door.”

“Okay, why does he have to go?”

“He’s a master of illusions. You’re the perfect pair.”

“Don’t call us that,” you roll your eyes. “It’s bad enough I have to go with him, but going alone? Why do I have to be alone with him? Come with us.”

“You know why we can’t. The less people, the better. It’s only for a week. You can handle being with him for a week. I’ll even take your next two missions for you.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s get this over with. Loki! Hurry up!”

Loki appears seconds after you call him with his bag slung over his shoulder. He knows you don’t like him. You make sure everyone knows it whenever you’re within close proximity to him. He doesn't feed into your dislike because that would only egg you on so he silently takes whatever you give to him. It’s cute how angry you can get at him.

Your anger is justifiable. After all, he is the one who fucked with New York and brought an alien race to kill humans. He took Clint and used him as a puppet for his own greed. He killed eighty people in two days. He’s the one who let the Dark Elves into Asgard, causing a war to be brought to Earth. He’s not a good person despite him telling you over and over again that the mind stone influenced him for most of it.

“Have fun, you two,” Tony smirks, “but not too much fun.”

“Gag me,” you roll your eyes. “It’s not going to happen.”

You take your bag to the car while Loki stays behind with Nat and Tony.

“Be gentle with her. I don’t need her coming back in pieces.”

“I’ll check in in a few days,” Loki chuckles and walks out to the car. You fit your bag in the trunk leaving just enough room for Loki’s bag. He heaves it into the car and shuts the trunk. “Give me the keys.”

“Hell no. I’m driving.”

“Darling, you’re a terrible driver.”

“No, I’m not, and I’m not going to let you drive. I don’t trust you behind the wheel with my life in your hands. I’m driving and you can back the fuck off.”

Loki could have won this entire argument if he wanted to, but he’ll let you have this one. If you two are going to be stuck with each other for a week, he’s gonna have to pick his battles around you. This won’t be the only fight and it certainly isn’t the last.

You two pile into the car, and you’re off. Loki turns to you to say something but you immediately turn the music on so you can’t hear him. Loki sighs and lets you have your tantrum, but he does want to talk to you. He lowers the music to speak but you cut him off.

“Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? We’re doing this mission together but that’s all this is. The mission. I don’t want to talk to you unless it’s work-related. Got it?”

“You’ve got to talk to me sooner or later about something else.”

“I choose later,” you smile sweetly and turn the music up again.

Tony is responsible for your shelter and he picks the worst fucking place on the planet. The motel he chose is run-down and old with the sidewalk chopped up, the paint in the parking lots is so faded it’s hard to tell where the next parking spot is, the building looks like it’s going to collapse any second, and the numbers on the doors are no longer there. Only a faded shadow of what was.

The inside isn’t much better, but what did you expect? The people you’re targeting are weapons dealers who choose places like this for a reason. No one would go looking for someone if they were here. Tony is one of your good friends but you’ve always hated his sense of humor. If you call him now, he’s going to say it’s a mistake on his part because there is only one bed. One bed that you and Loki have to share.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in anger.

“It’s only a bed, love,” Loki says and walks inside.

“I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Be my guest.”

It’s already too late to do anything so you two get ready for bed. You grab two pillows and drop them on the floor. This isn’t going to be very comfortable but you’ll do it if it means not sharing a bed with Loki. After you brush your teeth, Loki prepares to take a shower. He closes the door before he gets undressed, and you glance over in curiosity. He hasn’t closed the door all the way so you can see him through the sliver.

His back is turned to you but damn, it’s a muscular back. He may be lean but he has well-defined muscles. Thor likes to show his off while Loki is more reserved. His pale skin glistens in the dim glow of the bathroom light, and you look away before he catches you staring. Yes, he’s quite handsome for a God. You’re not blind, you have eyes. No, stop it. He’s a bad person. He’s not handsome.

You shake your head and grab the top blanket layer on the bed to get comfortable. Your back is going to hurt the whole time you’re here but you refuse to sleep on the same bed as him. Loki finishes his shower quickly and quickly changes into silk pajamas. Of course, this motherfucker would have silk pajamas.

He walks out as he’s drying his hair and scoffs when he sees you on the ground.

“Really? You’re going to sleep on the floor?”

“Yes, now go to bed.”

“You can have the bed.”

“No, you take it. I’m fine down here,” you say stubbornly.

Loki sighs and doesn't argue as he gets into bed. An hour after the lights are out, you’re no closer to sleep than you were before. Every time you move, you end up knocking some part of your body onto the cold ground, and it’s starting to piss Loki off.

“Darling, come up here,” Loki finally says.

“No.”

“I will pick you up off this floor and tie you to the bed if you don’t get in it yourself.” If you’re being honest, the thought turns you on. He will make good on his promise so you stand up and transfer the pillows and blanket to the bed. You get in it but stay at the very edge. There is no way you’re going to be touching him in any way. “You’re being a child.”

“Shut up and go to bed.” You close your eyes to get some sleep when you feel his cold hand on your skin. Chills run down your spine but you’re not sure if it’s from how cold he is or if you’re turned on. You quickly slap his hand away before you get your answer. “Don’t touch me.”

Loki chuckles and lays on his back. An hour later, he can hear your soft snores that he finds adorable. Knowing he’s safe, he grabs your waist and pulls you into him. Subconsciously, you snuggle into him which makes him smile. He runs the back of his finger down your cheek gently so as to not wake you up.

“God, if only you knew what you did to me,” he mutters.

He has to find a way to make you see he’s not a bad guy, and he’ll do it for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[fairy-writes]

 Hello! can you do a gen narumi x reader where the reader is also from the defense force and goes on a lot of missions, they get nightmares a lot because of the missions and gen practically begs them each day to just stop going on missions and that even if he is the only one working he makes buckets of money and the reader should just relax. The reader still refuses and goes a very tough mission. Where they get severely injured and are unconscious for days and like gen takes care of them, its super fluff/comfort. Can it please be x female reader or gender neutral. Thanks and take care<3

RUNNING AWAY FROM WHAT?

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8

Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Defense Force!Reader, Arguments, Injuries, Making Up

Notes: You guys love having scenarios where the reader is in the hospital.

I'm combining this with another similar request that I got in my inbox!

TW for mentions of suicide (no one is suicidal; it’s just talked about)

__________________________________________________________________________

“Where are you going?” Gen’s sleep-filled voice makes you freeze in your tracks. You look back to find him half-sitting up in bed, bags under his eyes stretching for miles. You look back to your workout clothes and shrug,

“I'm going for a run. I can’t sleep.” You say quickly and head to the genkan to put on your running shoes. 

The sun hasn’t even risen yet, but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. The sense of being watched by Kaiju. You can’t shake the cold sweat dripping down your back and temples. So, you decide exercise is the healthiest way to get the feeling off your back. 

Gen scrambles to get out of bed and follow you. He doesn’t even grab his phone to check social media, so you know he’s genuinely worried. But by the time he manages to untangle himself from his blanket, you’re already laced up and opening the door. 

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?”  He says, hand catching the door to keep you from opening it. You scowl at the wood but don’t say anything. 

Because what could you say? 

He was right, anyway.

Gen knew he was right because his grip tightened on the door as you tried to open it further. 

“You did, didn’t you?” He asks, and you hunch your shoulders,

“What does it matter? I want to go for a run, so I’m going for a run.” You say, trying to keep your emotions under control even though they’re raging like a Kaiju out of hell. 

Gen’s scowl deepens to match yours, but he relents. 

“Fine. Whatever.” He says, lets go of the door, and sits down at the genkan to put on his shoes. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, and his scowl is ever-present as he stands up and opens the door. 

“I’m going with you.” 

“What? Why?! Go back to bed!” You snap angrily. A combination of no sleep for the last week and your ever-present nightmares have made your temper short. 

But Gen takes your snapping in stride and grabs your hand, 

“I won’t be able to sleep until you’re home safe anyway. I might as well go with you.” He says with a yawn.

So that led you to where you are now, sprinting around the First Division’s track until your bones feel like jelly. Gen keeps up easily, barely breaking a sweat. Yet, he doesn’t say anything while you run. He only speaks when you slow down to stop and put your hands on your knees, breathing heavily. 

“Are you done?” He asks, and your temper spikes just slightly. 

“No.” You say, straightening up to take another lap. 

He catches your hand and makes you stop. You look up at the sky, praying for patience that you don’t have. 

“Are you trying to kill yourself then?” He grits out, and you stare dumbly at him. 

What was he trying to say? 

Gen notices your look and throws his hands up. 

“You don’t eat, you barely sleep, you’re getting more and more reckless on missions. It’s like you’re trying to die!” His voice is nearing a shout, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Who cares if you wake up people in the dorms?

“I’m just doing my job, Gen! In case you forgot, not everyone is as strong as you!” You retort, and he scowls, knowing full well you’re just barely telling the truth. Well… You’re telling the truth about not being as strong as him. But everything else? You’re just barely surviving.

“You know you don’t have to work in the Defense Force anymore! You know I make enough money to support the both of us!” Gen argues, and you grind your teeth. This argument again?

“And you know why I won’t do that!” You snap back. 

The two of you fight back and forth before Gen just gives up and leaves. You had always been the type to drag out arguments much longer than they ever needed to be. And it got on your boyfriend’s nerves every time.

You make a few more laps around the track before you’re called in for a Kaiju attack.

You open your eyes and immediately realize you’re in the hospital. If the bright ass lights didn’t give it away, the scent of antiseptic did. As did the familiar beeping of your vital signs.

You hated hospitals. You had spent your fair share of time in them and had vowed to never spend another day in one again. 

Looks like you broke that promise to yourself. 

The scent of antiseptic makes you sneeze, and your head pounds. 

“So you’re awake.” Comes Gen’s voice, and you look to your right, where he’s staring down at his phone, typing out a text or playing some game. You honestly can’t tell which. He reaches to the side without looking and presses the button to summon the nurse to your room. 

“I am. What happened?” You ask, wracking your brain for any remaining memories. 

Nothing. You remembered your nightmares, running at the track, arguing with Gen, and then… Nothing. 

“You got hurt. Badly. The doc wasn’t sure you’d wake up for a while.” He said, tone clipped. He was still upset. That much was obvious. 

“How long was I out?” You asked. He finally set down his phone and looked you in the eye. 

He looked… Awful…

The bags under his eyes were worse than usual, and you were positive his jacket was looser on him than it used to be. Had he lost weight? His skin had a slight sickly pallor, only noticeable since you were looking for it. 

“Two weeks. You were put into a medically induced coma after three days to help you heal.” He said curtly, and you nodded wearily. You had been awake for not even ten minutes, and you were already exhausted. 

At least, you were until you realized you couldn’t feel the bottom half of your body.

Then, the panic set in. 

“Gen… I can’t feel my legs…” The panic was thick like fog in your voice, and as you tried to sit up, his hand gently pushed you down into your pillows. But you began to struggle the best you could. “ What’s going on?! Gen!” 

“It’s alright.” He said, but your head whipped around to look at him, eyes wide and tears welling up. 

You couldn’t be a Defense Force Officer with no feeling in your legs! You couldn’t do your job! You couldn’t save people! You couldn’t—

A hand on your face stopped your downward spiral, and you stilled, looking up into Gen’s red eyes. He offered a crooked smile that gave you a sense of comfort.

“The doctor thinks it’ll only be temporary. You’ll just be on bedrest until then.” He explains, voice softer now and more gentle. He must’ve really been worried about you to speak to you like this. 

The nurse finally comes in with the doctor, and they check you over before giving you the green light to be cared for at home if you so wish. And that was something you agreed to immediately. Be stuck in the hospital for days or weeks on end when you could just sleep at home? Ha! The answer was a no-brainer. 

Gen insists on wheeling you out to the curb where he then calls for Hasegawa to come pick you up. He sits next to you as you put the wheelchair brakes on and pulls out his phone again. Meanwhile, you watch the sky and think. 

And think.

And think.

“Gen?” You whisper into the wind and hear him grunt in return. You look down where he’s squatting on the curb, muttering about HP and leveling up as he holds his phone sideways to play a game. You take a deep breath and hang your head. “I’m sorry.” 

That gets him to stop. His game is paused, and he looks up at you with narrowed eyes. 

“This some kind of joke? You never apologize.” He says, and you huff out a self-deprecating laugh. 

“I know. And I’m sorry about that too. But I’m sorry for arguing. I know you only want what’s best for me in your own way. And I’m sorry—”

“Hold on. Are you breaking up with me?” He cuts you off, and you stare stupidly at your boyfriend before shaking your head. 

“No! I just want to apologize for being an ass.”

He stares just as stupidly until Hasegawa shows up with a van and helps get you loaded inside. 

It isn’t until you’re back at your shared apartment that Gen speaks again. 

“I should apologize too… For also being an ass. I know you’re struggling, and I was just trying to help.” He mumbled, scratching at the back of his head and averting his gaze from yours. You smile, chuckle a little, and reply. 

“Hasegawa put you up to this, didn’t he?” 

“So what if he did?! I’m apologizing, aren’t I?!”

You begin to laugh even more, and when you finally get your giggles under control, you catch him looking at you with a lovesick look. 

“Y’know… I think I might take a break from Kaiju hunting. Go to therapy for my nightmares and all that.” You say, and he grins before turning back to his game. 

“I’m glad.”

[modanisgf]

APPLE CIDER , HUH YUNJIN

☆ SUMMARY— you met yunjin at a beabadobee concert and never went back, being attached at the hip. though as you start to develop feelings for her, you realize she’s been hiding something from you. something that you couldn’t live with.

☆ PAIRING(S)— non!idol huh yunjin x fem!reader

☆ WARNING(S)— some angst, profanity

☆ GENRES— right person wrong time, wlw, miscommunication, forbidden love, yunjin is a bit toxic i am now realizing! (erm..)

☆ A/N— for my number one pookie @jayjj7 🙏 thank u for being my friend 🫶🫶🫶 you are so funny and thank u for making me laugh sm also i promise it gets good at the end guys.. i also actually dk a lot about cupid so pls dont comment on how accurate that part is

☆ WC— 1.5k

MASTERLIST

if you were being entirely honest with yourself, you’ve loved huh yunjin since the day you met her. the way she helped you when you were at your lowest, being the only person to even look at you.

yunjin was perfect in all ways but one, and you’re starting to catch on. she had been rather distant lately, giving you short replies and even going as far to leave you on read.

you weren’t sure what sparked this, it happened randomly one day and ever since you’ve felt different. the days seemed longer and more boring without yunjin to light them up, but you still made it through just barely.

one night though, you woke up to a loud ringing. cursing at yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, you picked up your phone and answered not checking the contact before.

“hello?” you say, yawning.

“y/n?” yunjin says her voice woke you right up, the shock making you sit up.

“yunjin?” you say, confused.

“why are you calling me this late?”

“i need to tell you something, can you meet me at our spot soon? it can’t wait i’m sorry.”

“i’ll be there.” is all you say before hanging up, quickly making an effort to get ready.

you weren’t sure why you agreed, considering yunjin hadn’t even taken the time out of her day to speak to you until now. but you’re soon reminded of your love for the girl, the thought making you sigh.

finally, you finish getting ready, leaving your house and making your way down your street heading for the lake you and yunjin would always visit.

the two of you could spent hours there just talking, the memories flooding in as you thought about the place.

pushing them back, you stopped at the front of the lake once you saw yunjin. you could recognize her face from a mile away, her bright red hair always making you laugh remembering the night she dyed it.

“y/n does it look bad?” she asks, looking horrified at you over the phone.

“no yunjin it looks good.” you say, barely containing your laughter.

“why are you laughing then?!”

“you’re so cute.”

yeah, you hated how good your memory was.

yunjin must’ve heard your footsteps, the girl turning around to meet your eyes waving to you timidly.

you walked over to her, taking a seat next to her. the tension was evident between you two, considering this was the first time you were around each other in weeks.

"where have you been?” you ask quietly.

“dealing with some things but—“ she replies.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you say, the anger you felt previously coming back.

“there’s more to it y/n.” yunjin sighs.

“yunjin i’ve told you everything, i’m sure that i won’t be mad if you just communicate with me.” you say, your hand reaching out for hers as she interlocks them.

“are you sure?” yunjin says quietly, making you more nervous.

“i’m sure.”

“y/n i love you, i’ve loved you since forever now and i want to be yours.” yunjin says, holding your hand tightly now.

your eyes light up, “why didn’t you just tell me? i’m in love with you too, i thought it was obvious.”

“that’s not exactly the issue though i just—“ yunjin pauses, thinking about her word choice carefully.

“we can’t be together.” she says finally, making you drop her hand.

“huh?”

“we can’t be together y/n, and it’s not right for me to keep this from you anymore.”

“what the hell are you talking about?”

yunjin flinched at your tone, moving away from you a bit in order to give you space. she bit her tongue, thinking of ways to explain this situation.

the truth is yunjin was here to help y/n find love, not have her fall in love with her and yunjin reciprocate the feeling. yunjin was never truly meant to become this close to y/n, and for weeks now her ‘boss’ had been sending her angry messages.

she had been gone too long from her post, other people needing her help were waiting for cupid to come into their lives and assist them. but the tale was slowly disappearing, as yunjin was gone.

yunjin was set to go home the next morning, so she had to explain this quickly. she didn’t know why she didn’t just spend her last days with y/n, and she knew how much regret she would be feeling as she left. she chose to ignore that for now, refocusing on you.

the silence was very long on your end, but it broke as you saw yunjin look at you again. her eyes boring into yours, yunjin not noticing how furious you looked.

“we were never meant to fall in love, i was supposed to help you find love.” yunjin says, leaving you confused.

“what do you mean? yunjin you sound so stupid right now—“ you say, thinking she was messing with you.

“i’m serious y/n,” she deadpans, “we aren’t allowed to date.” she says firmly.

“who isn’t allowing you?” you ask.

yunjin didn’t think this through at first, realizing the concept of cupid was just a myth in your eyes only making it harder for you to take her seriously.

“my dad,” yunjin lies not wanting to drag this out, “he isn’t fond of me being in a relationship right now.”

you look at her with sympathy, apologizing soon after.

“i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have been so rude—“ you rant on, yunjin cutting you off.

“it’s fine y/n, but there’s another thing. i leave tomorrow morning.” yunjin says.

“to where?” you ask, wondering so many different things.

why the hell was yunjin dropping all of this on you now? you could’ve spent her last week together, but instead she decided to ghost you. in short, you were frustrated with her immensely. you didn’t like how she had you wrapped around her finger, and you should’ve never accepted her invite to the lake.

“i’m just moving, my parents wanna move up north.” yunjin says, looking down.

it was obvious she was lying, but you chose to ignore it. at least she was saying something to you now, instead of leaving you on read for days on end not even bothering to respond ever.

“mhm.” was all you could say, not really sure what else to.

“yunjin, are you gonna tell me why you’re really leaving?” you ask, noticing how fast she tenses up.

she definitely thought she had you, the thought making you roll your eyes.

“i can’t, you wouldn’t understand-“

“just tell me, it doesn’t matter if i do or not i want to know the truth.” you say firmly.

yunjin sighs taking a long pause, “y/n, we can’t date because i’m not supposed to be yours.”

“we weren’t even supposed to meet, but i felt differently about you when i first saw you.” yunjin says.

“when i was crying at concert..?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood a bit. you smile when you see yunjin laugh a bit.

“yeah..” yunjin says, reminiscing.

“i’ll never forget that night.”

“i promise you if it was up to me i would take every chance i could to be yours, i’d love you until the end of time.” yunjin starts, “but unfortunately it couldn’t be that way, and i have to leave soon to help others.”

“i’m cupid.” she finishes.

“cupid?”

“yes, i was meant to pair you up with someone at that concert.” yunjin says, quietly.

“yunjin, and you never thought to tell me this at least a week before you have to go back?” you ask.

yunjin takes a deep breath before replying, the tension in her muscles leaving her feeling uneasy.

“i just didn’t think you would love me back, i thought i could just leave and forget about my feelings but i didn’t realize until recently that you felt the same.” yunjin says.

“yunjin, you make it so hard to not love you.” you say, holding her face in your hands now.

“i’m so sorry y/n. i’m so sorry that we never get to be with each other.” yunjin says, looking straight into your eyes.

“it’s not your fault jin, i forgive you.”

“can i hold you before you go?”

“please.”

the two of you spent a while at that lake in silence, as you fell asleep with yunjin in your arms. secretly you wished that she would be there when you woke up, knowing well she wouldn’t.

you felt empty when you woke up, yunjin’s presence not being there. you stared out at the rising sun, before you notice a little note in front of you.

‘i’ll always love you.’ it read, with no signature. but you knew who wrote it, not even needing to think twice.

you’ll always think about huh yunjin, no matter how much time passes. she just meant that much to you, a girl you met a concert during your worst. you’ll miss her for decades, moving on never working.

wishing you weren’t stuck on someone you couldn’t have, someone you wouldn’t even be able to see ever again.

you missed her so bad, and it hurt so bad knowing you were never going be with her.

[cobaltperun]

Heyyy! I'm hoping I still got the time to request something!

Lorraine Day x Fem!Reader

Lorraine lives after the "accident" (did not get that headshot...) just has a scar on her face, don't know which side. R also survives and her and Lorraine gets closer, then they became an item.

R always caresses or gives kisses to Lorraine's scar/scars on her face, so she knows she's still that beautiful young lady as before.

I just want a fluffy, romantic one shot with my baby😭😭

Feel free to ignore this! Have a nice day/night!

Sunset

Lorraine Day x female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

Word count: 1.5k

You never should have agreed to this, you should have been happy working at a local store, away from all of these crazy ideas of movies that would make your life easy. Instead of that now you were trying to stop the bleeding from your left arm from the crazy old man trying to chop it off with an axe. And you needed the damn keys so you could get the hell out of here.

So, though it hurt as hell, you managed to get back into the house through the window and felt relief when you saw Lorraine and Maxine, relatively fine inside as well.

"Y/N! We need to find the keys!" Maxine told you as soon as she realized it was you and not one of the crazy duo.

"No shit," you looked through the drawers, desperately trying to find what you needed. "Lorraine, could you check these drawers to the side?" you asked, only now realizing the girl was on the verge of a panic attack.

"No! This is all your fault! I never should have listened to you!" she screamed at Maxine and you couldn't help but agree somewhat, though you figured most of the blame still fell on the crazy old people. But then Lorraine went toward the door and you just went after her.

"Wait, Lorraine!" you managed to grab her just as she came to the stairs and pulled her back. The resounding bang of the shotgun being fired deafened you for a moment and you expected pain, but you just felt the girl whose arm you were holding slumping back against you. "Shit!" you cursed, pulling her inside despite the amount of blood you saw on her face as the bullets just narrowly missed you.

~X~

That was three weeks ago and the entire ordeal after that felt like a blur, you somewhat remembered getting back into the house and trying to hide with Lorraine, and then being called just once by Maxine that she would leave if you don't get your ass out in fifteen seconds, and then dropping you off at the hospital, probably because you threatened her, and then you never heard from her again.

You came out of the ordeal fine, just the nasty scar on your left biceps and overall less strength in your left arm. Lorraine though… She lost a finger on her right hand and the right side of her face was scarred. It could have been worse, she could have gotten her face shot off, but instead you managed to pull her back just in time to prevent her death.

The damage was already done though, she was mostly blind in her right eye, and the scars were fairly prominent no matter how she tried to cover them with her hair.

The two of you ended up living in your house, left to you by your grandparents, but Lorraine hardly left the room, choosing instead to stay in the room you gave her. She barely spoke to you unless you spoke up first, she barely did anything and you could tell she wasn't doing well.

Not that you could blame her, given how she came the closest to death out of the three of you. You knocked on her doors and waited until she eventually told you to come in, you were carrying a tray with her dinner on it. Just some soup and mashed potatoes, since she was still struggling to chew, though doctors were sure her jaw would recover completely soon enough.

"Hey," you set the food down on the table next to her bed and sat down at the foot of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Lorraine looked to the side, hiding the right side of her face from your eyes. "Like I should have died," she spoke honestly for the first time. "I thought I could be an actress, and look at me now, an ugly freak," you saw a tear sliding down her cheek as her voice shook.

You stood up, stepped closer to her and knelt down. Carefully you reached up, touching her right cheek. "Don't say that, please," you whispered, your heart breaking for the girl when she pulled away from you.

"You shouldn't have pulled me back," she sobbed and the two of you just sat there, in an old room, with wooden boards for floors and an almost antique furniture, and barely any sunlight coming through the window.

"Lorraine," you whispered, lowering your hand on her shoulder.

"You're still beautiful, you're still you," you felt like your words weren't reaching her, but she leaned in, perhaps just desperate for comfort and allowed you to hug and hold her.

“No, I should have never let you go alone, I should have gone with you,” you told her, and she just shook her head.

The two of you met that day, nothing, absolutely nothing that happened should have made you feel obligated to come with her.

“I know it’s difficult for you, I know you’re stuck in that place, replaying what happened all day long and then falling asleep to those same thoughts. I know that every time you look in the mirror you want to cry, but I’m here for you. And I won’t stop until you can once again see that you are still beautiful,” you promised her. It’s only been three weeks since you met, yet you figured surviving something like that brought you and Lorraine closer together.

“That’s not possible,” she sobbed, and you heard a small gasp when you cradled her scarred cheek.

“Maybe, but I won’t give up without even trying,” you weren’t sure where the boldness came from, but you leaned in and kissed her forehead, the right side of it.

“Y/N,” she spoke your name so softly you barely heard her, and she looked you in the eyes and saw nothing but affection and honesty. You didn’t find her scars ugly, or hideous, or anything that must have been going through her mind. You still saw the beautiful shy girl that stepped into the van that day, only now with the proof that she was a survivor on her face,

~X~

About half a year later you were resting on the porch and watching the sunset with Lorraine leaning on your left shoulder. You put an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.

"Y/N," she giggled and it was like a melody to your ears to hear her happy once more. Following the first time she opened up to you things became easier for both of you and now you could enjoy each other's company just like this, even if Lorraine remained self-conscious about her scars.

"Hmm?" you kissed her forehead, where the top of her highest scar was, then moved down and kissed just beneath her eyebrow, down next to her eye, on her cheekbone, several times on her cheeks and along her jaw.

"You'll miss the sunset," she sighed, but she ran her fingers through your hair and lifted her head up a bit to give you better access to her face.

You caressed her left cheek, pulling her a bit closer. "Mhm, there's someone much more beautiful right next to me," you whispered, and only then, only after she parted her lips, you softly pressed your lips against her own, enjoying how she immediately pulled you in closer and kissed you back.

"You flatter me," she smiled, and you felt like her smile was even brighter than the Sun at its brightest. She went through so much and still had it in her to smile like this.

"It's not my fault my girlfriend is worth every praise in the world," you told her as the sunlight faded away.

"Yeah, and we missed the sunset again," she complained, huffing jokingly and leaning against you once more. The truth was you've been missing the sunsets for the past month, ever since Lorraine first kissed you in this exact circumstances, while you were watching the sunset and you gently caressed her right cheek. It made Lorraine feel better, and you genuinely thought she was still beautiful, that she was still the same girl you met that day in the van.

"I can't help it, you're so kissable," you defended yourself.

"Is that even a word?" she chuckled.

"It is now," you said and she pulled you in for another kiss, this time a bit more heated as her tongue teased your lips.

"Yeah, I think that word works," she muttered as she just barely pulled away.

She was so damn beautiful, and she loved you back, and while you wished she never got hurt, while you wished so many people didn't get killed by lunatics, you were happy the two of you were together.

A/N: Well, anon, here you go, hopefully a short but mostly sweet and fluffy one-shot. Thank you for the request!