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monstersflashlight · 2 months ago

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Day 12. Monster-kinktober: Hybrid + Omegaverse/Anonymous Sex

A/N: Thanks to @teratophilexfor the brainstorming of this one! The anonymous part is questionable here, and ended up being a bit softer than expected. Enjoy!

Were-bear x fem!reader || breeding, heat, cum inflation, marking

When you start feeling the burning sensation of your heat hitting your body, you are in the worst place possible. You went out with your friends to your usual bar, nothing major, not that many people around… But way too many alphas and betas ready to take a vulnerable omega about to be horny as fuck. You start feeling your knees going weak and heat pooling in your lower abdomen, and you just know you can’t get out of there fast enough. You try to make your way to the bathroom, maybe if you close yourself there nobody will notice and you could escape when people leave.

But you aren’t that lucky.

As you walk to the bathroom, everyone in your paths turns around, your friends look at you scandalized and scared, all of them other omegas that have zero chance of helping you in that moment. You try to go faster, but your legs are trembling as you feel slick drenching your panties. Some werewolf grunts when you pass by and your scent hits him. Some other monsters growl, and by the time you are at the bathroom door, you can hear feet pounding on the ground as they follow you.

You have enough time to close yourself in a tiny stall when the first wave of heat hits you, and fear covers your scent as you listen to all the growls and grunts of all the monsters in the bar trying to get to you. You know the stall has a strong enough door, monster-proofed, but it still won’t be enough if all of them try to get to you at once. You are shivering on the toilet, your fear mixing with anxiety as another wave of heat hits you, when you hear the only voice that could calm you no matter what.

“OUT! EVERYBODY OUT!” He roars to all the monsters trying to get to you. You don’t know what he did, but not three seconds later you can hear everyone leaving the bathroom. Only your tiny whimpers and a labored breathing can be heard inside the stall where you caged yourself.

You see a hand over the stall door first. It’s a big hand with long claws and veins all over the back of it. You don’t know if it’s the heat talking or you are just hyper-aware of everything, but even his hand looks sexy. You fold into yourself when another wave hits in response to his presence. When he peeks over the stall, you whimper, his giant body and cute ears making you groan with need.

“Oh, honey… Wait here for a second, I’ll come back for you, okay?” You whimper, another wave hitting you and making you double over yourself. He coos at you and exits the bathroom. You hear some commotion outside and he comes back two seconds later. “Let’s get you out of this tiny bathroom,” he tells you, pulling you up and carrying you bridal style to the main area of the bar, a completely empty bar.

He puts you down and steps back. “Where’s everybody?” You ask, confused. Not even your friends are there, what the fuck?

“I kick them out. Nobody should smell my mate in heat,” he growls the last part, possessively.

But you can’t even process the rest of the words, just two resonating in your foggy brain. “Your mate?” You croak out, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“Shit, forget I said that,” he says, looking regretfully to the ground. “I- I should take you home. Or wherever you want, someplace safe.”

“Do you want me to go?” You ask back, the hope you tried to repress surging inside of you like a tidal wave. And then you don’t know if the hormones are talking or if you lost your mind completely, but you ask: “Would you… Would you be my heat-mate?”

He looks at you with eyes as big as plates, his cute round ears twitching over his head. Adorable. “You… You want that?”

“Yes,” you say simply. Maybe you lost your mind, but it’s the truth. You do what that. You do want him. You’ve wanted him since the first time you saw him, he’s the main reason you and your friends keep coming back to the bar, to see the eye-candy bar owner.

He looks so happy and joyful that this time you are the one who has to look down because it hurts to look at something so pretty. “Oh, honey, I’ve been head over heels for you since I saw you enter my bar for the first time.” He lets out in a breath, so fast you barely catch what he says.

“Really?” You ask, confused and low-key embarrassed by his admission. Have you really been that stupid that you have been lusting after him and you didn’t realize he felt the same way? “But you never…” You try, but another wave hits you and your knees go weak, your legs giving out under you. You would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t for his big strong arms coming around your middle and keeping you upright.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me,” he let out in a whisper, pulling you up and sitting you over the counter so he could lean down and press his forehead against yours. “Do you want me, honey?” His voice is almost broken.

“Yes,” you whisper back, stretching your neck up trying to kiss him, but he’s so damn tall you can’t quite reach, fuck. “Why are you so fucking tall?” You curse as you grab him by the collar of his flannel shirt and pull him down harshly, pressing your mouth to his in a melting kiss.

He groans against his lips and you circle his waist with your legs, pressing your body to his completely. The contact makes you hyper-aware of your drenched pussy, the slick soaking your pants at that point. You were able to almost ignore the heat, but having him so close, his mouth right over yours… you can’t ignore any longer. It hits you like a cement brick in the stomach and you whimper against his lips, biting and groaning, trying to get as close as him as possible, your movements frantic as the heat inside of you consumes every single thought in your brain.

Your hand travels down his big body, squeezing his pecs and making him moan against your open mouth. You grope and touch every inch of him you can, pulling at his clothes but not focusing enough to undress him. But when your hand finds his dick, you gasp, surprised by his size.

“You are so hard…” You tell him against his lips, not able to separate yourself more than a couple millimeters from his mouth. He tastes so good, it’s intoxicating. You drive in for another pantie-melting kiss until you both are gasping for air against each other mouths. You aren’t even naked, and you already think this is the best heat you’ve ever had.

“That- that’s… because of the bone,” he whispers, embarrassment making his cheeks go pink as you grab his hair and pull. He groans, and his cute bear-ears twitch, making you want to giggle. But the urge dies rapidly when your dumb-heat brain process what he just said.

“What bone?” You ask, pulling his head to the side and attacking his neck with your lips and teeth. He groans, grinding his hips against your hand, which is around his dick.

“Were-bears have…” He stops to groan when you squeeze his shaft. “We have a bone that allows us to be hard for longer,” he explains between heavy breaths.

You are lost of words, your brain trying to process that he’s as hard as bone and he can go like that for a long time. “You are perfect for my heat,” you blurt out without thinking. You rapidly cover your mouth, as if you could swallow those words back, but there’s no use.

He’s already smirking wickedly at you, his eyebrows raising in an insinuating manner. “Am I?” He asks, teasingly.

You can’t take that look from him, your brain completely short-circuits and next thing you know you are once again devouring his mouth as your hands grab and pull at his hair with desperation. You feel your body being lifted from the counter, and he walks with his hands on your ass, climbing some stairs that you guess lead to his apartment over the bar. Convenient.

You kiss down his neck as he tries to get his keys from his pocket, holding you with only one hand and making you groan. That’s so hot. He curses when you bite down on the tendon, almost breaking the skin as you suck a big hickey right there. He curses some more when you grind your hips down over his hard as bone (pun intended) erection.

He finally opens the door and walks through like a man on a mission, closing behind him with his feet as he stomps into the next room where he puts you on a bed. You take your clothes off at the speed of light and open your legs for him to see how wet you are. He curses again, louder this time. There’s an edge of anger in his tone when he tries to open his shirt and ends up ripping it open, buttons flying everywhere as your hand finds your clit and you moan like a whore in heat (so like what you are).

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” You chant as he tries to get his boots and pants off as fast as possible, but your brain is too gone into the heat, you can’t think of anything else apart from his dick. His dick inside of you, stretching you, pounding into you, breeding you. “I need you, I need you inside, please,” you beg as he growls at you, making your whole body tingle.

You hear another ripping sound and his pants are gone, his boxers pushed down enough to let his dick out. You gasp, your fingers moving faster looking at his huge dick. You don’t know if he can even fit inside of you, but you don’t care, you just need him inside as far as possible. He walks to the bed with his boots still on and his ripped clothes hanging from his body. He looks wild and feral, and you dig it. You want him more than you’ve ever wanted anyone.

He moves your hand away, making you whine, but replaces it with his hot mouth, drinking your juices like you are the fountain of eternal youth and he can’t get enough of it. Of you. He slurps around your slick center and sucks on your clit, making you come in a blink. You cry out and pull at his hair, asking for his dick without words, your brain too far gone to talk anymore. The orgasm didn’t help, it only made you more desperate, more needy. The heat keeps getting stronger and stronger and it can only be sated by his dick.

When he positions himself over you and starts pushing inside, you move your hips urging him deeper, but he growls, his teeth falling to your neck and holding you there by your mating gland. You shiver, your body going languid under him, submitting completely. He keeps pushing into you, little by little, until you are panting and he bottoms out. You scream, and he bites you, marking you forever.

The combination of his dick and his bite makes your eyes roll back into your head and a new wave of slick gush around his length. He roars and starts pounding into you like a madman. Or a mad bear. His claws transform, picking at your hips where he grabs onto you. You scream again, your human nails scratching his back as he transforms a bit more, his body getting bigger, furrier…

He pulls back a tiny fraction and back inside, making you scream as he growls over you. Soon after, he’s pounding into you with equal desperation, both of you fucking into a heat frenzy that’s maddening. And the best thing that ever happened to you. His claws on your hips add a spark of pain that drives your mind into mush, the pleasure so high you can’t hold back a scream when you came around him. More slick gushes out of you around his length still pounding into your needy hole.

And he does it again. And again.

And by the time he comes you have had at least five orgasms, but he doesn’t stop. He fucks you over and over until you can’t keep your eyes open, but you keep groaning every time he bottoms out. He comes inside of you a thousand of times, or at least it feels like it. But thanks to his special bear attributes he keeps going, and going. Filling you so much your stomach looks bloated. But you’ve never felt so good.

By the time the clock hits three in the morning, the first big wave of your heat has passed, and you are lying exhausted on him, tracing tiny circles over his hairy chest. And then something crosses your mind, your body freezing as he hums in question.

“Wait! What’s your name?” You ask, scandalized with yourself for falling into bed with a virtual stranger. He laughs so loud and hard you almost fall off his body.

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iamthemain-character · 1 month ago

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Are Your Ears Burning? 18+ only - Minors DNI

astarion x fem!reader

CW: smut, masturbation, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), astarion being a brat

A/N: If you know me irl, no you don't (lovingly)- otherwise, welcome to my first smut fic (i need to be put down like a dog). Also shout out to S.H. for being an editor and proofreader, cause my asexual ass don't know shit <3 can't wait to live in the asylum with you when our delusions take over our brains

bg3 masterlist

You couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

Life out on the open road was exhausting, and often far dirtier than you’d like, and most days you just wanted to collapse into your bedroll once the night sky blanketed the camp. Although, when the travel was not so long and the days were a little bit calmer, your mind would finally be able to think of other things than sheer survival. But that was where the real battle lay, and you had no defenses against your opponent.

The most beautiful bastard to ever walk the earth, otherwise known as Astarion.

It was truly horrible. The elf vampire’s mere existence was enough to send your body fluttering. The way he would lounge by the fire, feet reaching for the warm, head tilted to face the heavens. Or when he would put on his armor, dexterous fingers flexing as he tightened leather straps. It didn’t help that Astarion was an outrageous flirt, who knew exactly how to lower his eyes just so, or how to change his voice to a vocal caress. Sometimes you wondered if he could possibly read your mind, if he was amused by how utterly pathetic you became the moment he said your name.

Perhaps it would have been easier if he could, because then you wouldn’t be caught in the dilemma you found yourself in. You know of Astarion’s background, knew that he was trying to undo two centuries worth of pain and hurt. And for that reason you didn’t dare speak your desires to him, not willing to chance the fact that you might ruin what little healing he had found.

At the end of the day, however, you still were just a woman. And it was in the twilight of a long day that you retired to your tent, hot and flustered from so much more than the campfire. Your core ached, desperate to find some sort of release for the sheer amount of arousal it was constantly put through. But of course, when you thought of pleasure, it was the face of Astarion that came to mind. But that was not a path you were willing to go down.

Tentatively, you moved to lay on your bedroll; even though you were completely alone, and well within your own right, you felt embarrassed as you took off your shoes, your pants soon cast aside as well. You lay back, taking a deep breath as you attempted to clear your mind, to relax and enjoy yourself. You began as you always did, fingers trailing over your opening, touching the spots that you knew would make you feel good.

Except when the first wave of pleasure hit, all your mind could think of was Astarion. His pale face, with those alluring ruby eyes filled your mind, and you found your lips longing to utter his name. It shocked you for a moment, but you couldn’t help but note the way the thought of him had made the experience more enjoyable.

You struggled within yourself, questioning the morality of thinking of Astarion for your own pleasure. You had no right to him, and aside from his flirtatious nature, you weren’t even sure he wanted you in that way. So you resolved to push any thoughts of your white-haired companion away, resorting to sheer pleasure to satisfy yourself.

You went for where the aching was in your core, fingers pushing through your own soft folds, gathering the slickness that had already collected in just the few moments. You carefully pushed into yourself, breath catching as you maneuvered through the first ring of muscle. Slowly, you pumped your fingers in and out, taking care to brush against your sensitive inner wall. To your dismay, however, the feeling of your fingers within yourself didn’t bring you nearly as much pleasure as you had hoped. Your mind betrayed you, focused on how it was woefully your own hand and not a certain vampire spawn companion’s.

You slipped in another finger in an attempt to help fill you up, and your mind drifted to Astarion. What would it feel like if it had been his cock inside of you instead, pushing up against your center. Would he be thick, stretching you out around him? Or would he be long, needing to encourage you to keep taking him in. Your fingers picked up their pace, desperation starting to take root as your longing for the real thing increased.

With a jolt, you caught your ruminating thoughts, heat burning through your face rather than your core as shame coiled in your stomach. Frustrated, you removed your own hand, a little miffed at how difficult your hopeless crush on the elf had made your life. You took a deep breath, moving onto a different tactic; if you couldn’t control your thoughts, you wouldn’t think at all. Your clit had already swelled a little from the arousal, and as you brushed your fingers over the bump, it produced a satisfying thrill up through your body.

You began working the bud with your fingers, a soft sound escaping you as you felt your pleasure increase in your body, responding to the stimulation. You allowed your mind to grow hazy with the sensations, little prickles of pleasure running through your hips and legs, giving your body the experience it had been craving.

You pressed on your clit more firmly, touching yourself with more intensity as your body grew hotter and hotter. Little noises escaped with your uneven breathing, the pleasure unable to be constrained to your body and escaping into the air. You had to be careful, your tent was in a circle of your companions’ after all, but your need overruled any real sense of propriety. You continued to vocalize your pleasure, whispered “pleases” mixing in with the quiet noises that escaped you the more you felt pleasured. You could almost hear Astarion’s voice in your ear, murmuring words of encouragement, of praise, enticing you closer and closer to your climax.

“Astarion…” You groaned, unable to resist the way it so easily came to your lips.

Little did you know that just outside your tent, crouched beside the very wall of tarp that you were next to, the man himself sat, pointed ears listening intently to your sounds. Astarion had no intentions of listening into your private moment as he had walked past your tent, but the moment he had heard his own name moaned out, your voice so sinfully needy, he had rooted himself to the spot. It didn’t take him long to deduce what was happening, the scent of your arousal, damp and slick on your hot skin, told him all he needed to know. So he sat there, listening intently, his own hunger growing, tightening the leather of his trousers.

Your breath came out in little pants as you felt the coil burn hot in your lower abdomen, ready to spring at any given moment. How you longed for Astarion’s actual touch, for him to help you along; instead, however, you contented yourself with a final swirl of your forefinger, and the coil snapped. Warmth swelled in the center of your body, and your body sank into the thin bedroll, satisfaction easing the tension that had plagued you for so long. You pulled your hand away from your body, letting it fall beside your trembling thighs. As soon as the initial high was over, however, guilt poisoning the ecstasy, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. No matter how hard you had tried, you couldn’t get the beautiful elven man out of your head, the stupid bastard.

“You did so well, darling. So good, coming for me just like that.” You could almost imagine his voice purring to you.

Except you didn’t imagine it.

Your eyes fly open, and standing at the end of your bed was Astarion himself, a beautifully wicked smirk curled across his lips. His ruby eyes gleamed with gratification, looking as pleased as can be as his gaze drank in the sight of your dripping folds.

With a start, you broke from your blissful haze, scrambling to cover yourself; Astarion, however, had other plans, pouncing on you immediately, grasping your wrists and pinning them to your sides. “No no, darling, don’t get shy now.” He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “You don’t get to act coy, not when you called out my name. This is mine to enjoy, and you’re not taking it from me.”

Astarion punctuated his words by bringing your messy fingers to his lips, taking them into his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he tasted you. He groaned, eyes closing for a moment as he savored your flavor. “So sweet, darling…I simply must have more.”

Your mind was still caught in shock, lost for words as he shifted down your body, hands caressing from your wrists, following the path of your arms as he trailed further and further downward. He knelt into his position of worship, finding the altar between your thighs, more than ready to taste the wine of your body. Despite how needy he felt, he wanted to savor this moment, the way he finally had your truest feelings laid bare before him.

“Were you truly so desperate for me, love?” He purred, rubbing his nose against your soft inner thigh. “Our perfect little hero of the realm, fucking herself on her fingers, crying out my name. How perfectly filthy.”

“I...I just needed-”You feel beyond embarrassed, being caught in such a personal moment, but even more so being caught by the very man you were using to get off.

Astarion, however, was the furthest thing from displeased, chuckling as he pushed on your legs, sighing happily as his face was smooshed between your plush thighs. “I know what you needed, pet. You could have just asked, you know; I would have been more than happy to oblige.”

You inhale a sharp breath, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, a flicker of concern tightening around your heart. “I don’t ever want to put you in that position again…”

Astarion faltered, his heart melting a little as he realized what you were insinuating. He moved back up to hover above you, the cool leather of his pants stretched over his knees as they pushed up against your thighs, effectively keeping your legs wide open for him. He gently stroked your waist–better than the way you had imagined–his slightly dry fingertips soft as he mapped out the curve of your form.

“You could never.” He says, his creamy voice quiet as he spoke, the most earnest you had ever seen him. His eyes matched the color you felt in your heart, heated and passionate. “You are nothing like him, or any of them. You…” He leaned in, and he pressed his lips to yours. His whole body leaned into you, craving the warmth he could feel radiating off. “You have proven time and time again that you see me as more than a body.” Astarion whispered against your lips, his own still brushing them. “You have given me a place to call home, to not constantly have to protect myself. And now that I’m not just trying to survive…” He moved his lips to your neck, biting gently. “I find myself wanting.”

His meaning was clear in his words, sending tingles up your body from how much more it excited you. “You have to know now just how much I feel about you..how I adore you.” You reach up a slightly shaky hand, cupping his sharp jawline into your palm. He leans into it, hands tightening into a possessive grip on your waist, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving.

“It cannot possibly match just how much I adore you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your palm. His eyes flit open again, glancing at yours. “And I would like to show you, if you’ll let me.”

Your breath catches as your heart skips, heat curling in your stomach again. Unable to trust your voice you give him a silent nod, the need evident in your gaze.

Astarion presses one last kiss to your lips before he returns to his irreverent worshiping, his slender hands wrapping around your thighs, nails pressing into your skin as if to mark you as his. He brings his face the slit between your folds, and he inhales deeply, a satisfactory sigh leaving him. You clench around nothing, his warm breath scattering across your damp skin making your body tingle with arousal.

“Look at her, already so beautiful and ready for me.” He murmurs, pressing his pointed nose into the little crevice above your clit. He darts his tongue out, flicking the swollen bud, smiling as he feels the twitch of your body in reply. “But look at her, poor thing…she deserves tact, and true pleasure, not just a brutish push to an orgasm. Never fear, my love..” He pauses, pressing a kiss to your pelvis, “I am here to take care of you as you deserve.”

Astarion rolls out his tongue, pressing it flat against the opening between your softness, and he drags it upwards. He hums with delight, just the hint of your essence making him greedy for more. He pushes through the soft flesh, dragging his tongue expertly up and down, lapping up the mixture of arousal and release that remains.

You can’t help the soft noises that escape you, no words being able to describe how you’re feeling, the sensations too strong to remain within you, finding their release through your vocal cords. This only spurs Astarion forward, however, who continues swiping his tongue through your vulva, unabashedly hungry in his consumption of you. The only breaks you receive are when he occasionally pauses to tell you how perfect you are, or how good you taste, or how much he adores you. The moment the elf finishes vocalizing his sentiments, however, he returns to your body, working his tongue over and over again.

You find yourself wishing you could have had this first, Astarion’s actions surprisingly better than your own, as if he was simply meant to know your body in this way. Had you not been so entirely consumed with the sensations his mouth were bringing you, you might have had the notion to be irritated, but instead you only found yourself delighted by his uncanny ability to find the places that pleasured you the most.

While Astarion could have happily just kept dragging his tongue over you like a man dying of thirst, he wanted to continue focusing on your pleasure. It delighted him, being able to give pleasure because of his affections he felt, with no ulterior motives, and he was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. His shifts a little, easing his tongue into your opening, his body jolting as he feels you gasp and tighten on the muscle. Teasingly, he moves his tongue, easing you open again, sliding it as far as he can get. He presses his face as far into you as he can, taking full advantage of vampires’ lack of needing air. He presses his nose against your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly, building up a rhythm with his tongue as he moves it in tandem with his teasing nose.

He feels a surge of satisfaction as you moan, grinding your body against his face, letting him delve deeper into your soaking cunt as he gets more and more drunk on your taste. He can feel you getting close from all the stimulation, the way his hands have to keep you from closing your thighs around his head–not that he’d mind going that way, but he has other plans for you.

“You’re doing so well for me, my love….taste so sweet, being so filthy on my tongue.” He murmurs, rubbing his nose against your throbbing clit, and you nearly lose it from hope the vibrations rumble through your flesh. “You��ll be a good girl for me and come, won’t you? Let me taste my saccharine reward.”

“Astarion, I…” You’re not really sure what you’re trying to say, thoughts increasingly difficult to form with every flick of his tongue against your tense inner muscles.

“I’m here, my darling…my beautiful woman…” He presses a kiss with his lips to your labias, a sweet gesture compared to his demanding tongue and insistent nose. “Let yourself go. Baptize me in your glory, please.”

He’s begging you. Tongue pushed deep into your core, pointed nose steadily pressing into your bud, Asatrion is begging you to come on his face, and you don’t have the strength– nor the desire– to deny him.

“Astarion!” You moan out, hips bucking against his face as the tension snaps, your body going slack against him as warmth courses through your muscles.

Astarion feels a surge of delight and satisfaction as he feels his face dampen, and he forgets any rhythm with his tongue as it greedily laps at you, as if he needs every last drop of your release to survive. You can barely make out his murmurs, only catching your name and words of praise here and there. You whimper as he licks at you, the sensation bordering on overstimulation for your pleasured body, but you can’t deny the ache feels good.

Finally, Astarion’s face pulls away from your warmth, and he presses one last soft kiss to your swollen clit, inhaling deeply to take in your scent once more. He sits up, reaching a hand out to brush back the hair sticking to your forehead.

“You alright darling?” He asls warmly, smiling down at your flushed and dazed face.

You nod, taking a deep breath as you try to collect yourself. “I’m…I”m wonderful…perfect actually..” You glance over him, and feel your stomach flip as you see the obvious bulge in his pants. “Astarion, you-”

He waves you off, pressing a kiss to your stomach. “Do not push yourself, dearest. I wouldn’t want to break your pretty little body on our first night together.”

“I want you to break me.” You blurt out, heat rushing to your ears as you drop your gaze. As if you weren’t already a trembling and aching mess from the most thorough and pleasurable eating out you’d ever received. Yet somehow, with Astarion, it was never enough. “Please.”

For a moment, Astarion just gazed down at you, his wine-colored eyes deep in thought as he seemed to consider you. Finally, he smiled, and he reached down, untucking his shirt. “You are so perfect, darling, you know that?”

Even after all that you’ve experienced, your body burns with arousal again as you watch him remove his shirt, tossing it aside without a care. For a moment, you feel you might faint when he tells you you can touch him, but you manage to stay conscious. Your trembling hands caress over his smooth chest, feeling the cool, pale skin, and the lean muscles that it encases. Astarion shivers at your touch, adoring how he simultaneously feels both adored and wanted.

He unlaces his trousers, disposing of those and his underwear, watching your expression carefully.

The heat in your center doubles, and you already ache for friction, for him as you gaze at his body. His cock is long, erected upwards as he takes in the mess he’s already made. Veins curve around the shaft, dark against his taut, pale skin. You shudder as a thrill runs up your spine as you imagine how that will feel, and you wonder if you can die from anticipation.

“Is this what you imagined, darling? Or have your wicked fantasies bested me?” Astarion teases, his voice low as he returns to his position, howevering over you. He dips his head down, nibbling at your ear before moving down to press a trail of kisses across your neck.

“You are far better than anything I could have imagined, though...I’m not sure this isn’t fantasy.” You breathe out, feeling dizzy from his proximity.

“This is very much so reality, darling.” Astarion murmurs into your skin. “And I have every intention of proving it.”

He leans up a little, just enough so that he can grasp your hips, lifting them to meet his body. As you watch him bring his member to your opening, you wonder if you will ever remember how to breathe. But suddenly, you feel him push in, and suddenly all you can focus on is just how right it feels.

He takes his time, though it's easy for him to slip in, your body plenty wet from your arousal. He groans your name softly as he feels you clench down, as if your body is demanding to have more without delay. He happily obliges, pushing forward a little more intently, watching to ensure you are comfortable.

You have no qualms, however; every inch you receive sends little waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You wonder how you ever lived without this, the desperate ache inside of your core easing away as he fills you up. As he gets closer to his base, it becomes a bit of a stretch, your body not quite used to the length, but your moan is full of appreciation rather than pain.

Astarion bottoms out, a deep breath escaping him as he does. “My darling…” He murmurs, caressing his hands up and down your hips. His eyes are hazy, his body thrumming with heat, with the sheer ecstasy of being so deeply intertwined with you.

Your own body is pulsing, and you grow a little greedy, your hands grasping at his pale strands of hair. “Astarion...m-more…please…”

Astarion moans again, amazed by how he could have someone so incredible possibly want him. “Do not fear, my love. I have every intention of giving you everything.”

Astarion pulls back his hips, pushing them back in a little quickly, his stomach lurching as he hears the gasp that escapes you. He repeats the motion, building up a steady pace as he thrusts in and out of your warmth. It's like your bodies need one another, crave the most carnal and yet loving intimacy that can be had. Astarion's hands firmly grasp your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can thrust deeper, a little harder as he does so. Both of you moan, the pleasure intensified through the new angle. Astarion stops being careful, pumping in and out of your soft body at a reckless pace, needing to chase the pleasure that continues to rise higher and hotter between the two of you.

The two of you are lost to your ecstasy until you reach the height of it. You come hard and fast, your insides burning up from the tightly wound coil. You forget everything, calling out Astarion’s name without caring if others will hear it, clinging to him as your pleasure takes you. Astarion follows almost immediately after, hips stuttering before he just presses into you, allowing his hot release to fill up your body. Your thighs soon become slick as it spills out of your body, but you hardly notice, more focused on the sensation of Astarion’s body laying on top of yours.

For a few moments, you both just lay there together, panting heavily, minds spinning from the sheer amount of bliss the two of you have created. Your hands stroke through his hair, his own hands still cupping your waist as if you are the only thing grounding him to the earth.

“You are so perfect, my love..” Astarion whispers, his voice husky and low, barely a murmur in your ear. “Just positively divine.”

You smile, a little flutter of satisfaction warming your own heart. “As are you. I feel absolutely incredible, thanks to you.”

The white-haired elf chuckles, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Do not ever thank me, my darling. I’m almost ashamed to admit how much of this was for my own pleasure. You will have to force me to only think of you, next time.”

“Next time?” You echo, quirking a brow at him, hope fluttering in your chest. Astarion’s smile curls across his flushed face, and he tucks your hair behind your ear. “Of course darling. I can’t have my beloved resorting to her own hands the next time she needs to feel good. Especially if I can be the one hearing you moan my name.”

#astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion

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gay-dorito-dust · 4 months ago

Note

Will you do a scenario of how we’d meet Bill for the first time and what he would be like if you were sort of “friends”? 🙏

You were minding your business while walking through the woods of Gravity Falls, just needing a change of scenery and finding the woods to be the perfect place to do so with it’s mushrooms, flowers and the wildlife that crossed your path.

Everything was seemingly fine and not out of the ordinary until you started to feel like you were being watched from somewhere, you looked to see if you could spot anyone, but all you could see were birch trees that had markings on the bark that suspiciously looked like eyes. You were just about thinking of leaving until you heard a voice from somewhere.

‘Hey kiddo!’

You looked to the left, nothing

‘Other way kid.’

the to the right, nothing

‘Colder.’

Up? Nope, nothing.

‘You’re practically an human popsicle at this point.’

How about looking down? Still nothing. Now you were getting confused, scared and annoyed.

You heard the voice sigh and say ‘you’re starting to make me feel sad, here I’ll make this a little easier for you.’ Then before you could say anything, a small yellow triangle with one eye wearing a top hat and bow tie appeared before you.

‘It’s great to finally meet you y/n.’ It said and immediately you were freaked out.

‘Who are you and how did you know my name?’ You asked, uneasy.

‘The names Bill Cipher and I know lots of things, lots of things.’ Bill replied, shrugging. ‘Wanna see what I can do?’ He adds after a brief pause but before you could answer him, he held his hand out to a nearby deer as its teeth were taken out of its mouth and into his small hand in a neat pile. ‘Deer teeth for you kid hehe.’ He then chuckled as he dumped the pile of deer teeth into your hands.

You on the other hand didn’t find this funny and fought the urge to vomit as you offered Bill the deer teeth back. ‘Mind giving the deer its teeth back? I’m sure it has more use for them than either of us.’ You ask as Bill did as you asked and gave the deer its teeth back as it galloped off elsewhere, leaving you alone with the weird triangle in the woods. Everything that had happened within the past five minutes had been overwhelming for you, too overwhelming that you had to sit yourself down on the trunk of a fallen tree and put your head in your hands, muttering to yourself.

‘This isn’t real, this is all some weird fever dream or I’m tripping balls. There’s no other explanation.’

Bill only chuckled as he floated next to you and patted you on the shoulder. ‘There, there human I can reassure you that what you just saw was very much real.’

You looked at him from your hands, unamused. ‘You fucking suck at comforting people you know that?’

‘I think we’ll get along great!’ Bill chirped gleefully.

‘We absolutely will not.’ You replied but you had an inkling that your opinion on the matter didn’t matter.

Now onto how bill would be if you were sort of ‘friends.’

He’s got a weird way about showing his feelings in any capacity.

The little shit put rats, dead rats outside your door, spelling out your name on random ass occasions that made it look like to others that a) you were haunted or b) had a weird stalker who liked to form your name out of dead rats.

He doesn’t want you having friends outside of him because and I quote ‘I’m the only friend you need, why bother with anyone else. So don’t even try cuz I’ll be watching you.’

Will leave sticky post it notes anywhere and everywhere saying to get more silly straws or else he’ll find a way to possess you and make you do embarrassing shit. Ie: walk through town in your underwear, make you speak backwards, kick a child-

Bill was a brat and his pranks were often traumatic but apparently they were ‘light’ in comparison to the stuff he did to his other meat puppets. You didn’t ask any further questions about what he meant by that in fear that he’d show you one as an example.

You are probably the only person who bill has told about his secret technique with mascara and eyeliner, even seeing him do it once when he insisted that you had a ‘sleepover’ at your place. He even points the mascara brush at you warningly as he threatened that you were to never tell people about this or else.

His version of jealousy when he sees you spending time with others is to trash your house and try to act cute when you catch him in the act. You don’t fall for this and give Bill the silent treatment for the rest of the day as he practically lost his shit over your lack of attention.

Probably air horned you awake once.

Bill Wouldn’t tell you this but he make your enemies do stupid shit that resulted in their deaths, for fun he claims but he didn’t want his favourite meat sack to start leaking water from their eyes every time something went wrong in their life. So he just cuts them out in the most brutal way possible.

Bill was stuck to you like glue and there’s was no way to hide from him as he would ultimately appears where you are, even if you’re in the fucking shower, he don’t care.

Bill: *appears in shower* my favourite meat sack have you- stop screaming it’s only me, have you seen a king cobra anywhere, I must’ve dropped it somewhere here-

He probably once threatened you with the whole ‘steal your eyes’ thing like he did with Ford but you had witness enough of Bill’s behaviour to know that he was joking about that, to which he was proud and would magically make a cake filled with worms, bugs and other unpleasant things appear in celebration.

You may or may not have been sick that day.

Your and Bills friendship was weird, probably not the healthiest in all honestly and you should seek help and or maybe therapy for the shit he’s out you through.

You were his property, you were his pet, HIS MEAT SACK and you wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without him knowing and or being nearby in hopes of catching your eye.

Just a yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat and bow tie floating ominously in the background was enough to unnerve anyone.

You had no freedom as far as you were concerned in this ‘friendship’ but bill likes to claim that he has given you the most freedom out of anyone who has ever existed.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #gravity falls x you #bill cipher x you #bill cipher imagine #bill cipher imagines #bill cipher x reader #the book of bill

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somethingvicked · 5 months ago

Text

Keep me warm

Eddie Munson one-shot.

warnings: female reader, smut, no use of Y/N, pet names; sweetheart, baby, etc.

You and Eddie had spent the day at Lover’s Lake. Eddie refused to go to the lake on the sunny days because practically all of Hawkins were there and he didn’t want them all to scream and stare at him.

So today, when it had been cloudy, you had all but put your foot down and forced him to come with you.

”Come on, Eddie! One day in the whole summer we just got to be at the lake, take a dip and have fun!” you had whined and he had given in.

He always gave in when it came to you, couldn’t deny you anything.

Except himself.

It was your biggest secret, how in love you were with Eddie Munson. Always had been.

Ever since the day you and he got paired up in English class for a project and you offered to help him out, so he would pass the class at the end of term.

That was three years ago and Eddie was none the wiser about your feelings for him. You were his friend and he loved you, you knew that. But he wasn’t in love with you.

You two had happily tossed your clothes to the ground (wearing swimclothes underneath) and dove into the lake, playing around, swim racing and dunking each other for a good while, without noticing that the sky had gotten darker.

When there was a loud rumble above you, Eddie pushed his wet hair out of his face and looked up, his eyes widening. ”Shit! We need to get out of here,” he told you, pulling your arm as the both of you all but fought against the water’s density as you ran up to the beach.

And that’s when the sky all but opened itself. You were still in the water below the waist but with the force of the rain you didn’t really notice the difference, you were both drenched within seconds, and you could see how your towels and clothes were too, at the beach.

”Just grab them, we’ll drive back to my place and change, you can borrow something from me,” Eddie said.

You weren’t sure how you felt about going commando underneath Eddie’s clothing since your underwear would be wet but nodded nevertheless, as the both of you grabbed the two piles, running through the pouring rain toward his van that stood at the edge of the forest path leading to the lake.

You were both soaked, as if you had never gotten out of the water, when you reached the van. Water wasn’t dripping from you, it was running down your bodies in small rivlets, droplets big as pennies flying off your hair when you moved.

Finally Eddie unlocked the driver’s side door and leaned over to unlock the passenger one so you could climb in. You shivered, dropping your clothes on the floor by the seat and went to buckle yourself up.

Eddie turned the the key to the engine.

Nothing.

”What?” Eddie muttered and tried again, but the van didn’t start. He tried two more times before admitting defeat.

”The battery must be dead,” he concluded. ”But why?”

”Did you turn the lights off before we went to the lake?” you wondered and his eyes widened.

”Shit! I... no, I don’t think I did.”

You sighed. That was typically Eddie, and normally you would find it endearing, but now you were stuck in the forest, soaked in cold rainwater and with no clothes to change into.

You shivered and Eddie looked at you, clearly feeling bad. ”I’m sorry,” he said, reaching over to rub your arm. It didn’t help much against the cold.

”It’s okay,” you said, ”these things just happens sometimes, it’s not like you did it on purpose.”

It was quiet for a moment as you listened to the thunder and the constant sound of the rain splashing onto the roof of the van.

You had pulled your knees to your chest, trying to stay warm, but your wet bikini didn’t help. Eddie didn’t seem to fair much better. You could see the hairs on his arms standing up, his pale skin looking more blue than white. Suddenly Eddie snapped his fingers. ”I have an idea. But... it... I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” he said, a blush covering his face.

You raised an eyebrow. ”What kind of idea?” you asked him curiously.

”Well... we’re both freezing, right? And we don’t know how long this rain storm will go on. I... I have a mattress back there, and a blanket. It’s mostly for when I... when I conduct business out of town, because no way I can afford a motel,” Eddie admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. ”Why don’t we climb back there and try to get warm.”

That was a good plan in theory. But your bathing suits, heavy with water, would still chill you down and you told him so.

His blushed deepened. ”That’s what I meant about you taking it the wrong way. That we... we take them off. Body heat.”

Your mouth fell open and you just looked at him, your brain going blank.

Eddie wanted... he wanted to...

”I mean, I will of course look away, and we’ll be under the blanket the whole time, I just don’t want you getting sick,” Eddie rambled, looking like he was about to panic. That made you laugh.

”No, it’s... it’s okay, Ed. Let’s try.”

You climbed to the back and Eddie got the blanket out. You slide beneath it and then pulled your bikini bottoms off and then the bikini top, tossing them to a corner of the van.

You closed your eyes as you heard Eddie shuffle with his own swim shorts. Then you almost jerked when you felt something crawl in beside you.

”I think it’s best if you turn on your side,” Eddie whispered and you nodded, turning so your back was to him, and he wrapped his arm around your middle, taking care not to land even an inch above or below. He had also shuffled his hips backwards so his pelvis wasn’t even touching you and deep inside you thought that this was probably not the correct way to create body heat. You two were only lucky it was in the summer and it was just the rain that had chilled you down, not snow or ice.

It did work though. Soon enough you started to feel warm enough that you could ease out from your fetal position and relax. Eddie seemed to do so too, he wasn’t as tense anymore.

The arm you were lying on had gone numb though, so you shifted a little to get the blood flowing and heard a sharp inhale from Eddie.

”Don’t... don’t do that,” he said, sounding as if he was in pain.

”Do what?” you wondered, turning your head to look at him. ”I was just...” as you shifted again, you felt it.

Your bare ass came into contact with Eddie’s crotch and... he was hard. Rock hard.

Your eyes widened. ”Eds?” you whispered.

Eddie swallowed and closed his eyes. ”I’m sorry!” he whimpered, ”I’m so sorry. It... it’s just...!”

You couldn’t help it, you started to giggle.

”This is not funny,” Eddie exclaimed, his voice mopey like a child.

You felt it again, and the size of his cock made you gasp, warmth pooling inside your pussy.

You would probably hate yourself for this later, but you couldn’t resist anymore. You turned around, sliding as close to Eddie as you could, raising a leg so that it rested over his hip.

Eddie gasped, looking at you in shock, his dark eyes even darker from arousal.

”Can... can I...?” he started but you didn’t wait for him to finish, you took the hand that now rested on your hip and brought it down to your sex, making him close his eyes in bliss as he gently parted your folds, stroking you.

You pulled the blanket up a little so you could get a good look at his cock. It was beautiful. Big, uncut – apparently his parents had never bothered with getting him circumcised – and slightly curved.You wanted that inside you.

Eddie opened his eyes and met your gaze. This time he didn’t ask, he pulled you into him and kissed you.

You whimpered as he rolled you beneath him, bringing both of your legs around his hips. His cock was rubbing against your wetness, and it made you ache with want.

”Need you, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered into your ear, sucking on your earlobe and down your neck, teeth scraping against the skin. ”Wanted you... so long...”

He had wanted you?

You didn’t get an opportunity to think about that because Eddie’s free hand took a hold of your chin, making you look at him.

”Do you want me, sweetheart?”

You nodded.

”If you don’t, tell me now.”

You shook your head. ”I want you, Eddie! Please!”

”You got it,” he whispered and then started to kiss his way down your body, tossing the blanket that had covered the both of you earlier, impatiently to the side.

”Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed, licking the curve of your breast, up to your pebbled nipple. That made you whine, arching your chest against him.

He switched to your other breast, rubbing his own saliva over the nipple he had just left. You moaned and whimpered, arching against him. What he did felt wonderful but your pussy was absolutely dripping, aching for something, any kind of friction.

”Please, Eds...”

”Please what?” he wondered, blowing cold air over the other nipple, now wet from his mouth.

”I need... need you to touch me!”

”Baby, I am touching you,” he teased you and you just wanted to bite him. But instead you took one of his hands and moved it to your sex, using his fingers to rub your own clit.

”There,” you moaned, ”I need you to touch me there...!”

Eddie’s eyes grew big as he watched you holding his fingers and put them against your clit, rubbing circles, bucking against them.

”Holy fuck,” he whispered, before batting your hand aside and moving down between your thighs.

”You don’t have to make me do it, baby. I’ll touch that sweet pussy whenever you want me to!”

For moment you were surprised by his teasing and dominance – it was so unusal from how Eddie usually was. Only a moment ago he had been so embarrassed about you feeling his hard on!

And now... now, he spread your legs and inspected your glistening pussy, as if it was nothing!

Then you felt his wet, fat tongue, licking a stripe up from your ass to your clit, making you cry out and dig your nails into the mattress your were lying on.

”Jesus H. Christ, you taste so good,” Eddie groaned, licking you again, flicking his tongue against your clit, putting his lips over it, sucking, humming.

”Eddie... Eds... that... that...!”

”Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how good it feels having my eat this delicious pussy!”

”Feels so good...!” you sobbed as he started to push a finger in and out, crooking it, making your eyes roll back into your head as he hit that sweet spot inside you.

”You like that? Or do you want more?”

”I... I want to... taste you too,” you stuttered out, your hand jerking out and grabbing on to his cock. Eddie made a choking sound deep in his throat, but he grabbed your hand, kind of how you had with his, and shook his head.

”Another time, sweetheart. If you put that sweet mouth on me, I won’t last two second. I want to fuck you first. Need to be inside you! You want that?”

You nodded furiously and Eddie leaned in closer to you, almost looking desperate. ”Say I can fuck you, baby. Say you want me!”

”I want you, Eddie,” you whispered. ”I want you to fuck me!”

”Yes,” Eddie hissed, removing his finger from you, sliding his cock against your folds, your wetness covering him as he finally slipped inside you, both of you letting out a loud moan when he bottomed out inside you.

You felt like he was in your throat, but it felt so good, so right... your cunt was screaming for him to move, to hit all the spots inside...

”Move, Eddie! Please, you promised to fuck me!”

Eddie growled – he actually growled at that – and pushed your legs up, so that your knees were practically by your ears, starting to thrust into you with vigor.

”Feels so fucking good... so tight... made to take my cock... ”

Apparently Eddie was just as talkative in bed as he was otherwise, it seemed he wasn’t even aware of what he was saying.

He held on to your legs, using them as leverage to pound into you. By now the van was shaking by the force of Eddie’s thrusts and your bucking to meet him, the windows had misted over and both of your bodies were shining with sweat.

Eddie released one of your legs and slid a hand down to play with your clit, making you scream.

”Eddie... I’m... I’m...”

”Cum for me, baby! I want to feel you cum!”

You sobbed through your orgasm, your arms tightening around his neck, nails digging into his skin as he kept pushing into you, just making it go on and on...

”Eddie...!”

”I’m close, sweetheart. Where... ”

”Inside! Inside me!”

”Are you sure...?”

”Birth control.”

”Fuck!”

Eddie thrust a few more times, one, two, three shallow thrusts before he groaned loudly, the veins in his neck standing out, as ropes of his warm cum painted your walls.

He let go of your legs but as you were afraid he would just get up and it would all be over, you wrapped them around his waist, clinging to him like a baby koala.

Eddie moved his bangs out of his eyes and looked down at you. ”God, you’re so beatiful,” he whispered.

You frowned. ”You... you think?”

”Of course I do. I’ve always thought so. That you were the most beautiful girl in the world. The most perfect girl in the world. I love you, sweetheart. Always have.”

Your eyes widened. ”What?”

”Yes. What, you thought... that this was just...?”

”I thought you just reacted because... well, we were naked.”

”No! Well, yes, a bit perhaps,” Eddie admitted, making you giggle. ”But... I’ve been in love with you forever. I was just... a coward. Afraid that if you didn’t feel the same it would ruin not just our friendship but the rest of the gang too.”

You supposed you could understand that. And you couldn’t exactly fault him, because you had been a chicken about admitting your feelings as well.

”I love you too, Eddie.”

Eddie hugged you tightly. Then he suddenly chuckled.

”What?” you wondered, smiling.

”It’s stopped raining.”

It was impossible to see anything out of the window but the tell-tale sounds of droplets landing on the roof of the van wasn’t there anymore so you guessed he was right.

”You want to try and walk back to the trailer park?” you wondered and Eddie shook his head.

”Nah, I’m good. I want to stay like this for a while. Besides, we don’t have any clothes to wear – we might end up in jail.”

You giggled. ”You’re right. But I don’t mind staying here either. I’ve got you to keep me warm.”

tagging: @quinnyficsy @melodymunson @jenniquinn @pandemoniusstuff @munson-blurbs

please, like, comment and reblog!

Your likes are wonderful but reblogs expand my reading circle.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #best friends to lovers #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #v's writing

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godmadeaterribleerror · 1 month ago

Text

To Need Somebody

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, angst, very light fluff, pre-established relationship, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: After a hunt goes poorly, Dean retreats down a well-tread path of self-loathing. You've been here before, and you'll be here again, and you'll stay every time. Self-esteem warning, but that's it.

Author's Note: First Dean fic! A very good excuse to rewatch supernatural and say it's for my own edification as if he doesn't live in my head rent-free.

Title from Renegade by Big Red Machine ft Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 3.8k

The night doesn’t pass as quickly as you’d like it to. It’s long and slow, treelines and yellow grass moving in blur out the window as the stinging, stabbing pain in your leg keeps you awake.

You keep your face pressed to the glass, hidden in shadows and under your makeshift blanket—it’s just a jacket, but it’s Dean’s so it smells like him and might be better than a blanket—so that the light reflecting off your tired, tear-stained face doesn’t catch the attention of the rear-view mirror.

Doesn’t catch the attention of Dean.

He hasn’t spoken since the drive home began. He’d carried you to the car, then into the motel, then on the bed, holding you still while Sam cleaned and sewed up the gash in your thigh. Dean had muttered words of comfort and let you bite down on his shirt through the stitches. He’d told you that you’d done well, and that the kid was going to be fine.

The kid with you was going to be fine. You’d been faster than the demon—but not faster than its blade aimed at your leg��and the little girl who had attached to you was going to be traumatized, but had a lifetime ahead of her to heal from it.

The little boy that had been with Dean didn’t. He was ash scattered over the skyline and stuck to wet grass. And you knew Dean blamed himself, even though Sam had told you in hushed words at a gas station that it there was nothing anyone could have done. The kids eyes had started to go black, and he’d wandered to the window with an expression of wonder Dean had caught immediately, because he was a good hunter and better man.

And it wasn’t Dean’s fault the kid had punched through the window with inhuman strength. You’d all assumed that the crazy fucking ritual was more of an offering than a conversion. If your kid had punched through a window, you would have likely lost her as well.

But you hadn’t. Sam’s hadn’t lost his either. By pure, shit luck, Dean’s was the one that formed a stronger connection. That fell under faster, and died for it.

So now Dean wasn’t speaking to you or Sam. He’d helped you to the Impala, checked that you were comfortable, and set his jacket over your body, even after you told him you were okay. You’d reached a hand up to his face, told him you loved him, and gotten a grimacing smile in return.

You know he loves you. He’s not good at saying it, but you know. You know because he’s driving slower than usual, to avoid bumps. You know because the music is low, and it’s one of his better tapes. One of the one’s you’ve told him you like more than the others, and the one he always put it on when you’re in pain.

There isn’t a doubt in your mind that Dean loves you. And the silent acts of attention and service make the exact three times he has said it all the more meaningful.

The first time, when you’d tried to leave—reaching a breaking point of I can’t keep loving him like this, but I can’t get over him while I’m here—and he’d shot down your every fear with begging words and a confession he’d sounded afraid to make.

The second time, when you’d died. Really died, and Dean had tried to break up with you to protect you when you’d come back. You’d called an idiot, but your idiot, and simply refused to leave him. You’d told him to give you one good reason he wanted you to go, and he’d never see you again. He’d shouted, and you’d screamed, and you think you won. You’re still here, so you won.

The third time, which you called the good time. Where he hadn’t said it in a shout or plea, or because he was in afraid of losing you in whatever form, but because he wanted to. Dean had really just wanted you to know that he loved you, and now you did. And you’d never doubt it again.

But this still hurts. The wall that forms over Dean—a form of protection from this silent burden and self-inflicted torture you know must be unbearable and heavier than the world, crushing on his shoulders and head and ribs—is like a stray dog that you just have to watch tear itself apart, and hope it will accept your outstretched hand. Offering comfort it doesn’t know it deserves.

You know Dean loves you, and you know he never takes your hand, and it still really fucking hurts. A fight would be better than this. Screaming would be a relief to the heavy silence that had started to form a weight in your lungs. Your head felt like iron, and you were beginning to wonder if your tongue with ever stop being a pointless muscle that was uncomfortable in your mouth. Stop just itching at your teeth and finally become useful. Find the right words that would make Dean do anything, anything at all. Literally anything that wasn’t sitting like a sentry and holding the wheel like—if he choked it and it spat out blood—something would fix itself.

It’s dawn when you hear the engine stop, and you can’t move. A little because you still can’t fully support any weight on your leg, but mostly because moving will be acknowledging that you’re awake. And being awake comes with choices. You either have to look at Dean and pretend you don’t see the way he’s ripping himself apart before smashing everything back together in a way that’s just a little less stable than before, or you have to not look at Dean.

He’ll notice. He notices everything, especially obvious things like you not looking at him. And it will hurt him—make this hole you think lives in his ribcage or spine bigger and more hollow—so no matter what pain it causes you, you need to look at Dean.

You push up your forearms with a groan, and he’s right there. Already watching you, so obviously in pain, and so obviously guarded from it that there’s not much for you to do right now. These are things Dean has to ask you for before you can give them. If you offer kind words, he’ll think they’re tainted with pity and spit venomous ones back. If you offer a body he’ll take it, but then the hole will grow larger as the guilt sets in for using you, even if you were the one that asked.

When it’s like this, all you can do is sit with him. Let him help you into the bunker, and—when he tries to put you in bed—insist he stays here, or you go where he goes.

You can make that about you, about not wanting to be abandoned in the midst of your physical turmoil, instead of Dean. He’ll let you follow him if it’s for you.

“You need to rest,” he grunts your name, and these are the first words he’s spoken in almost twelve hours. They’re almost inaudible, and a little angry, but they’re the most amazing sounds you’ve ever heard. “Been a long night. You’re hurt-“

“I can rest with you.” You whisper, and he looks like you shot him. “I don’t want to be alone, Dean. Please.”

There’s a long, horrible moment where you think he’ll say no. Where he’ll mutter that he’s never a productive in a bedroom setting for anything like resting, give you an empty smirk and a sleep well, Sweetheart before walking out the door and closing it behind him. If he does, you won’t be near him until he comes to bed in the dead of night, finally deeming himself worthy of undeserved luxuries like blankets and pillows.

In that awful moment, you consider crawling to him and dragging the entire bed set with you. Demanding that he gives you just proximity, because you both need it. He won’t have to touch you, or look at you, or speak to you, but he’ll be near you. At an acceptable distance, in case something in him escapes and you need to be there to catch it.

Dean doesn’t help you out of bed to follow him. But he does climb onto the mattress at your side, sitting up at the headboard and resting his hands in fists against his thighs, staring ahead with a practiced, unreadable expression.

You take it. Loving Dean is a lot of taking things. A lot of trying to give things back and having them be refused. It’s worth it, worth every screamed fight and strange, empty moment of only being near him, because most of the time it’s not like this. Most of the time it’s jokes and shared, sparring words. It’s almost all watching him be goofy and charming, and kissing a stubbled cheek when he gets in a mock fight with Sam and loses. Smiling and telling him you’ll get him next time, Buddy.

But these darker, emptier times are an unavoidable hazard of the trade. People who date in offices have to navigate HR, people who date in entertainment have to deal with the media and hunters who date have to deal with the fact that loss is inevitable, and you can’t afford to be attached to anything. On top of that, Winchesters who date have to grapple with their whole… everything.

But Dean is still with you. And that means he’s decided the joy of having you is worth the pain of losing you. It’s why when you slip your hand into his, he doesn’t pull it away. He squeezes it, and clings to it like a lifeline.

Sleep fades in and out in a haze, never long enough to dream or feel rested, but enough to register that Dean is crumbling. It starts with his body suddenly slouched down the mattress, then his legs are tangled in yours. Soon after your face is near his neck, and finally, he’s asleep at your side.

From there the day is traded sleep. You’re awake, and you shift the blanket to cover his body with yours. He’s awake, and suddenly your hair has been brushed from your face. You’re awake, your leg is hooked over his waist. He’s awake, you’re on top of him.

When you’re finally awake together, you just watch each other. You don’t speak first—Dean always to speaks first during these things—but you might have to stay here for a while until he does.

His eyes strained as if something is going to burst out of him, and he’s using every fiber and crevice of his will to keep it in. You don’t want to keep demanding more of Dean’s will. You don’t want to demand anything of him at all. So you just wait for him to fall a little further—keeping a soft, encouraging smile on your face the whole time—until he comes down entirely and speaks again. Light words coated in a pain that makes your head and heart ache, but words all the same.

“How’d you end up there, Sweetheart?”

You shrug, matching his tone but making your face more open. Wide and almost innocent, considering the position of resting over to your sex-god boyfriend, whose hands are wandering to hold you by your thigh. “Not sure.” You lean down, smiling at Dean like you have a secret as your voice drops to a whisper. “Between you and me, I think someone keeps putting me here. I go to sleep and wake up in the same place every time.”

He chuckles. “We should do something’ about that. Tie you to the bed so you can’t be moved.”

“I think,” you kiss his jaw, tangling your fingers in the soft, spiky hair at the nape of his neck. “That might just spur him on. He’d like the challenge.”

You start to kiss over his cheek—because it’s rare you get moment to just touch him without any need to go further, with neither of you asking for more, so you’re taking full advantage—and Dean’s head falling back with a low, long sigh, eyes closing as you continue your self-set task.

“He might.” Dean mutters. “But he also might not let you get to the sleepin’ stage.”

“He would.” You say against his skin, rising back up to watch his face, a strange combination of relaxed pain on his features that you knew too well. Where his brown was drawn but his breathing was slow and easy, and his mouth was parted but in a small frown. “Or he’d end up sleeping on me. The joke would be on him, though, because I love that too.”

“You seem to know this guy real well,” he says your name, dragging his eyes open to hold your gaze, and almost breaking your heart with how tired he looks. How he doesn’t seem to find peace in the truth of the words he’s saying. “He know you?”

“Better than anyone.” You whisper. “And I do know him. I’d like to think it’s better than most.”

“Do ya?”

“I do.” You drop your chin to prop on his chest, and Dean shift up to keep watching you as you speak. “He’s a bit of a goof, but very serious when he needs to be. He’s charming and handsome and a total cowboy, right down to the very odd chivalry and voice.”

“Odd chivalry?”

“He’ll hold my hair back when I’m sick and open every door, but he gets all bitchy when I ask for a fry, even when I offer a blowjob in return.”

“I always give you the fry, even when you just fucking ate all your own. And I don’t take the blowjob.” Dean grumbles, and your smile widens.

“Because you’re a very chivalrous guy, Winchester. Even if you keep moving me on top of you in the middle of the night.”

He frowns, scanning over your face. “I can stop that-“

“Don’t. I think I’ll find my way back here anyway.”

“Yeah? You like it here, huh.”

Dean’s words aren’t teasing like they might have been on another morning, but defeated. All you can do is hold your ground, and stay.

“I love it here.” You hum, playing with his hair under your hands in the way that always slows his breathing and eases the storm in his brain. “I love you.”

Dean sighs, and you know exactly what’s coming before he says it. “Look, Baby-“

“Don’t call me Baby, Dean.” You mutter, continuing your movements. “That’s either a sex name or an apology name, and we’re not about to have sex."

He says your name again, and it’s lower and deeper than before. Like he never wants to stop saying it, but can’t afford to anymore. “You gotta understand that I’m no good for you. Hell, no one’s good for you, but son of a bitch, I’m plain bad-“

You drop your head down to his chest, and take a long, laboring breath. This happens, in some form, every time. You don’t want his apologies or excuses or attempts to convince you to leave. If anything they just cement your place here, because you can be a little spiteful, and you’re not one to give up. As long as Dean keeps loving you, you’ll keep waiting out the darker nights at his side.

But you’re also a little sick of it. How pointless this is, how it only wastes the finite time life has to offer to anyone, let alone two hunters. How it hurts Dean to say, and you to hear, and he seems to think he’s doing you some sort of favor by pushing you away. That this is saving you and not killing you. Slowly, slowly eating at you until you don’t leave—you won’t leave—but you do start to wonder if it’s you. If Dean just doesn’t trust you or like you all that much, and doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. It’s just as irrational as Dean’s own logic—if only because he’s hurt your feelings a lot before, and always torn himself apart for it after out of love and pain after, making it up to you tenfold—but it remains a little, nagging voice in your head. That people who want you don’t try to push you away. That he does love you, but maybe can’t see a life with you, and just wants you gone.

You try and offer yourself some grace for your doubt, because it’s really, truly, not about Dean. Despite what he seems to believe, you’re not perfect either. You don’t end up hunting because you’re incredibly emotionally stable and have a pristine, joyful past. It just all happened to fall into place that your breaks and cracks line up with Deans. That he can fill in divets and depressions that eat at you—not pretty enough, not likable, nothing anyone could really chose to stay around, always the backup, always the poet and the prophet but never with a name people will remember when you’re inevitably gone—and you can do the same for him.

You need to try to keep doing the same for him. There are parts of you Dean knows that soothing and healing will take time to do, and parts of Dean you’re worried to touch and make worse, but there are also breaking points. Where your words start to spill out in a desperate play to just make it a little better for you both.

This is one of them. And all he’ll have to do is listen.

“You don’t need to agree with me,” when you start your voice is soft but cracked, like a breath you have to fight to take. “And you can even tell me I’m wrong after. But please don’t leave.”

He looks mostly confused at that, at the sudden shift in the air and spaces between it. Still heavy and clouded with sorrow, but also wired. Detriment. “I ain’t leaving you-“ He says your name, and you cut him off with a sigh.

“Don’t leave the room. Don’t leave the bed. Just stay here and listen.”

His frown deepens, but he nods. And now you have to talk.

It’s not rehearsed or prepared, but it doesn’t need to be. You know what you need to say.

“I’m not going to tell you it wasn’t your fault, because I know you hate that. But I hate when you do this. When you blame yourself, or try to. It’s mean to me.”

Dean’s hands tense on your body, and he looks like a wounded animal, but you keep going.

“I love you. A lot. And when you tell me I shouldn’t it’s, it hurts.” You sigh, trying to just keep your eyes fixed on a freckle near his nose as you start to choke on your own words and the salty taste they bring. “It doesn’t feel good. It’s like you think I don’t know what I’m doing. Like you’ve tricked me into loving you, when I want to be here. I really like being here, and I know it’s not about me, but I want it to be.” You chance a look at his eyes, and they’re glossy. No tears—you’ve never seen them before, and you likely won’t see them now—but the closest thing you ever get from him. A storm that stays green and trapped, instead of crashing out onto golden, soft skin for you to brush away.

You feel a little selfish, because this is really not about you.

And you can’t really bring yourself to care, or stop.

“I wish you’d let this be about me too.” You whisper, your voice almost inaudible over the lump and ache in your throat. “I wish you’d let me help. I let you help, Dean, and it’s not fair.”

“’S different, Baby.” Dean’s voice is hoarse, and a little unsteady as he shakes his head. “I don’t-“

“If you say need help, Winchester, you’re going to need to start rehearsing your speech to convince Chuck to send you back again.”

“You don’t know I was gonna to say that-“

“Yes, you were. And it’s not different. I want to help, Dean.” You’re almost pleasing, and it’s an effort not to crawl up his chest and outright beg. “Let me help, or stop telling me I should fucking leave you. I’m not going to, and I know you don’t really want me to, or we’d have been done two years ago.”

“You shoulda listened two years ago-“

“But I didn’t. And I won’t now.”

Dean shakes his head, huffing a dry laugh. “You’re real damn stubborn, anyone ever told you that?”

“You have.” You let a smile twitch at your lips, but you still don’t relent. “And I’ve told you that you’re no better. And it’s one of the many reasons why I don’t want anyone else.”

“You should-“

“No, I shouldn’t.” You give a full, close-lipped smile that’s mostly made of hope. You haven’t fixed anything, but you may have soothed it. Found a way to make his hated a little less consuming, because this is hurting you, and Dean hates hurting you. If he can’t start to change or listen to genuine reason, you can use his own twisted logic against him. “And I’m staying here. Because I love you, and I don’t want to hear about how I deserve better. I know what I deserve, and I know what I want.”

“Me.”

Dean says his word like he hates it, and you say yours like it’s a prayer. “You.”

He looks defeated, but not in pain. When his hand wanders up your back, tangling in your hair and tugging it just enough for you to know what he wants, you comply. Falling carefully forward and letting Dean’s lips find yours, allowing him to lead the kiss and decide where it ends. Long and soft and almost delicate, his free hand still rubbing and squeezing on your thigh, but nothing more.

It doesn’t need to be more. Because Dean pulls back slowly, staring at you with a slight awe as he clears his throat, and his voice come out slow, but not forced.

“I,” he swallows, shaking his head at mostly himself. “I love you. And I, uh, I’m glad you’re still here. Glad you’re stubborn.”

Your smile makes your cheeks hurt, but it’s pain born of joy, so it’s not really pain at all. “I’m glad I’m stubborn too.” You rest back down against him, and know neither of you will move for a long while. “It means I get to stay here.”

End Note: I'm pre-gaming something. Thank you so, so much for reading!

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focusonkayjay · 26 days ago

Text

between the ride and the roses (6)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 4.8k

Chapter Warnings: mature language, mention of injuries and wounds.

A/N: thinking of uploading another story soon and simultaneously updating it with this story. anyways, let me know how this part was <333

part 6: bruises before the blossom

The harsh buzz of the alarm pierces through the silence, dragging Jungkook from a restless, fitful sleep. His head throbs, heavy from the lack of rest, his body aching from tossing and turning all night. The bed feels too cold, too empty, and it’s a reminder of just how miserable he feels.

Even in his sleep, his mind never truly let him escape the images of you... the sound of your voice cracking with anger, the hurt in your eyes, and the way you turned away from him.

He drags himself out of bed, a sigh slipping from his lips as he rubs at his eyes. The entire day ahead seems like a mountain he’s not sure he’s capable of climbing. He’s still trapped in the mess he made.

There’s a weight pressing down on his chest that doesn’t ease, not even when he tries to focus on the simple motions of getting ready. His mind keeps replaying the argument, each harsh word, each painful silence, and his stomach churns with guilt.

The ride to his shop is cold, the morning breeze biting through his jacket. As he rides, all Jungkook can do is replay the mess he’s made in his mind, searching for a way to fix the chaos he’s so recklessly caused.

The hum of the shop’s overhead lights and the scent of motor oil mixed with leather greet Jungkook as he steps into his motorcycle shop, the familiar setting providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos inside his mind.

It’s early, and the place is quiet except for the occasional clinking of tools or the sound of an engine being worked on in the back. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it doesn’t help. The weight of yesterday still hangs over him like a dark cloud.

Yoongi’s already there, sipping coffee at the counter, his eyes flicking up when he hears the door open. He raises an eyebrow at Jungkook’s disheveled appearance and his tired eyes. He doesn’t need to ask if something's wrong.... it’s so obvious.

“Wow, you look like shit.” Yoongi comments dryly, leaning back in his seat, the mug still in his hands.

Jungkook drops his bag onto the counter with a heavy sigh. He doesn’t even respond right away, simply running a hand over his face in frustration. The guilt is eating him alive, gnawing at the edges of his every thought.

Jungkook remains silent, pulling up a stool and sitting down beside Yoongi. He leans forward, elbows on the counter, his gaze unfocused. “I screwed up, hyung. I fucking... I fucking messed up.” he starts.

Yoongi furrows his brows, not quite sure where this was coming from but he watches Jungkook carefully for a moment, before placing his mug down and crossing his arms. “What happened?” he questions.

Jungkook swallows hard. “We… we had a fight. Last night... me and Y/n... And... and I...” He pauses, grimacing at the memory of how he’d snapped, how everything spiraled out of control. “

"I didn’t listen. I said things I shouldn’t have, Hyung. Hurtful things. And the worst part, we weren't even alone. People were watching...And now… now I can’t stop thinking about it. The way she looked at me when she walked out…” His voice falters, a knot tightening in his throat. “I don’t know how to fix it.”

Yoongi’s expression hardens slightly, the disappointment clear in his eyes. “You messed up that bad, huh?”

Jungkook nods slowly, his hands trembling slightly as he grips the edge of the counter. “I don’t even know why I acted like that. I just... got so caught up in my own head, I didn’t even think about how she was feeling. And now… she’s pissed. Probably doesn’t want to see me... ever.”

Yoongi exhales sharply, rubbing his temples. “Listen, Kook… sometimes you really act like a damn idiot. But come on... you know better than this. She didn’t deserve that. I don’t care how stressed you were, how tired you were… there’s absolutely no excuse for treating anyone like that, especially her.”

Jungkook flinches at the words, but he can’t deny the truth in them. Yoongi’s never been one to sugarcoat things, and right now, his bluntness is exactly what Jungkook needs to hear.

“I know...” Jungkook mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “I really know. I just… I don’t know what to do next. How do I fix this?”

Yoongi lets out a long, resigned sigh. "I know I helped you out last time, but this time… I’m afraid you’re on your own, Kook. You’ve got to figure this out yourself." He shrugs, not sparing the younger man a single glance.

Even though his words sting, Jungkook knows Yoongi’s right. This time, he has to take responsibility for his actions and find a way to make it right on his own.

The morning stretches on, but Jungkook’s mind is stuck in an endless loop, the weight of his actions from the previous night pressing down on him with an unrelenting heaviness. He keeps glancing over at your shop, the stillness of the street on your side, unsettling, your shop’s "Close" sign glaring in the quiet morning light.

Something’s not right. You’re never late to open. His thoughts spiral, consumed by guilt. Did his words hurt you so much that you’d decided to close for the day? The weight of the uncertainty gnaws at him, each minute dragging him deeper into the pit of regret.

As the clock ticks on and the day wears into afternoon, Jimin and Hoseok finally arrive at the shop, both as lively as always, their energy contrasting sharply with Jungkook’s clouded mood.

They step inside, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor, but they immediately halt when they see his expression... dark circles under his eyes, shoulders hunched, and the tightness of his jaw.

Jimin raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he watches Jungkook. “What happened to you? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Hoseok, ever the teasing one, chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, but the moment he catches a glimpse of Jungkook’s face, the humor fades. “Man, what’s with the face? You look like a kicked puppy.” he worries.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker up to meet theirs for a moment before they quickly drop again. His heart is too heavy to lift his head properly, too consumed by the thought of you. He can barely form the words, his chest tight with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Finally, he exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and sinks onto the stool, running a hand through his messy hair.

“Y/N’s not opening her shop today...” he mutters. Jimin raises both eyebrows, the concern immediately evident on his face. “And that’s got you looking like you’re about to collapse?” he questions.

Jungkook nods, his voice strained as he continues. “I… I messed up last night. Badly. I...” His voice pauses as he struggles to form the words, the guilt threatening to choke him. “I hurt her. I said things I shouldn’t have. And now… she’s not even opening her shop. I think… I think I pushed her too far.”

Hoseok steps forward, his expression hardening as he leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “You hurt her? How? What did you do?”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy, filled with regret. He hesitates, his mind racing back to the argument, to the harsh words he’d thrown at you in the heat of the moment. He swallows hard, before narrating the entire incident from last night.

Both Hoseok and Jimin listen to him intently and Jungkook can't seem to ignore the disappointed look on their faces.

Hoseok, places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “You can’t undo what’s been said, but you can make things right. It’s not going to be easy, but you need to give her space. Let her process everything. Don’t push her.” he says.

Jungkook nods slowly, his throat tight. All he can do for now is just wait and see when he's about to be gifted the opportunity to talk to you again and set things right.

You pull the blanket tighter around you, cocooning yourself against the world as you lie in bed. The echoes of last night’s argument reverberate in your mind, pressing down like an unbearable weight. It’s not the anger that lingers... it’s the shame.

The shame of losing control, of letting your emotions boil over in front of him. You hadn’t meant for him to see that part of you... the part you keep carefully hidden, locked away behind walls you’ve spent years building. Now, the memory of it stings, and the question gnaws at you: Will he ever see me the same way again?

Today was supposed to be a normal day. You’d planned to open the shop, lose yourself in the routine of arranging flowers and greeting customers. But the idea of facing the world... facing him...feels unconquerable.

So you stayed in bed, letting time slip by as guilt and self-doubt festered. The shop, your sanctuary of independence, momentarily feels like a burden, a tether pulling you towards a confrontation you’re not ready for.

Your thoughts churn, trying to make sense of everything. The tears, the words you shouted in the heat of the moment... they feel too raw, too exposed. You wish you could take them back, even as a part of you knows they needed to be said. But guilt has a way of distorting things, making you second-guess what was right, what was wrong, and what was simply human.

As the sun dips lower in the sky, Taehyung and Juwon show up, their familiar faces offering a much needed reprieve. They find you exactly where they probably expected... in bed, unmoving, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Taehyung doesn’t ask questions, he simply sits beside you, his hand warm and steady as it rests on your arm. Juwon mirrors his quiet support, settling on your other side, their presence wrapping around you like a shield against your own thoughts.

They don’t press you for answers or force you to recount the night. Instead, they coax you out of bed with gentle persistence, presenting the takeout they’ve brought like a peace offering. Though you can’t bring yourself to talk about the turmoil brewing inside, the quiet comfort of their company begins to lighten the heaviness in your chest.

Taehyung eventually puts on a movie, something lighthearted and familiar. As the scenes play out on the screen, you find your mind wandering to tomorrow.

Closing the shop today might have been necessary, but you can’t keep hiding. There’s a business to run, responsibilities to shoulder... even if the thought of seeing Jungkook again ties your stomach in knots.

The anger is still there, simmering just beneath the surface. What he said, what he did... it wasn’t excusable. But a small, stubborn part of you wants to hear his side, to understand why. Will you ask him? Probably not. Not yet.

For now, all you can focus on is how to avoid him tomorrow, how to navigate the day without letting his presence unravel you all over again.

A week passes, and you’ve become somewhat of a pro at ignoring Jungkook. Each time he walks past the shop or lingers in the vicinity, you manage to find something else to focus on, your eyes never straying in his direction.

He doesn’t approach you either, which you figure is his way of giving you space. Though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, you’re grateful for the unspoken truce.

The planning meetings for the town fair have stalled, but you push the thought aside, convincing yourself it’s not worth worrying about right now.

It’s Friday evening, and the shop feels unusually quiet. Taehyung had called earlier, practically buzzing with excitement. He’s sold one of his paintings to a famous singer who not only bought the piece but also promoted it on social media. The result?

Tae's art business exploded overnight. To celebrate, he invited you and the rest of the group to a jazz club, and there’s no way you’re missing it.

You decide to close the shop early, flipping the sign on the door with a small thrill of rebellion. The usual routine of tending to customers and tidying up can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, you’re determined to let loose.

You brought your outfit with you earlier, knowing you wouldn’t have the time to go all the way back home, just to change and get ready. You head into the storeroom, a quiet hum of anticipation filling the air as you change out of the clothes you're wearing.

The dress you’ve chosen is simple yet striking, a dark, elegant number that hugs your figure perfectly. You smooth it down, catching glimpses of yourself in the small, dusty mirror propped in the corner. It’s not ideal, but it’ll do.

Once dressed, you grab your makeup bag and head to the washroom to finish getting ready. The harsh fluorescent lights are far from flattering, but you lean close to the mirror, carefully applying your eyeliner and adding a touch of highlighter to your cheekbones.

When you finally step back to take in the full picture, you pause, a small smile tugging at your lips. You look... radiant. The shadows that have clung to you all week seem to lift, and for the first time in days, you feel more like yourself. The heaviness that’s been following you takes a backseat, and you let the excitement of the evening take its place.

With one last swipe of lipstick, you grab your clutch and flick off the washroom light. Stepping back into the shop, you take a moment to glance around before locking the door behind you.

The cool evening air greets you as you step outside, a soft breeze carrying the promise of a night to remember. For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to look forward to something other than your next obligation.

Tonight, it’s about celebrating Taehyung and, for just a little while, forgetting everything else.

Once you lock the door behind you, you’re ready to leave the day behind and immerse yourself in the celebration waiting for you. But just as you turn to head down the street, you stop in your tracks.

Sitting on the curb a few feet away is a figure so familiar, your heart recognizes him before your eyes fully process it.

Even with his face tilted downward, you know it’s Jungkook. His dark hair falls in loose strands over his forehead, and the slump of his shoulders speaks of exhaustion. He’s completely still, almost like he’s waiting for something... or someone. The sight makes you pause, confusion flickering across your face. What is he doing here, sitting outside on the curb, right outside his shop?

You take a hesitant step closer, the sharp click of your red pumps breaking the silence. The sound alerts him, because his head lifts slowly, and suddenly, his gaze meets yours.

In that instant, it feels like time itself stops. His dark, expressive eyes hold yours, and for a moment, the weight of the world seems to fall away. It’s the first time in what feels like an eternity that you’re truly seeing each other.

You take a sharp breath as your eyes scan his face, and what you see makes your stomach twist. A nasty bruise blooms across his forehead, his split lip is still raw, and the faint trace of dried blood lingers at the corner of his mouth.

He looks like he’s just come out of a fight. Panic rises in your chest, questions swirling in your mind. What happened to him? Who did this? And why is he sitting on the curb like this? You remember he was like this the other night too... the night he snapped at you, the night you snapped at him.

While your mind races, Jungkook sits frozen, too stunned to speak. He’s captivated, his eyes drinking in every detail of you like it’s the first time he’s truly seeing you. Your long hair cascades freely down your back, glossy and catching the faint glow of the streetlights.

The sleeveless cherry red satin dress hugs your curves with a perfect balance of elegance and allure, the thigh-high slit teasingly revealing the smooth length of your leg with every subtle shift of your body.

He can’t stop staring, his eyes tracing the curve of your shoulders, the way your dress glides effortlessly with your movements, and how your red pumps seem like they were made just for this moment. You look breathtaking. Ethereal. He almost forgets the pain in his body, too lost in the sight of you.

“You look…” he begins, but his voice falters. Words seem inadequate for what he wants to say. His throat tightens as he tries again, but nothing comes out. His eyes do all the speaking for him, wide and reverent, as if he’s looking at something impossibly beautiful.

Your heart hammers in your chest, torn between the storm of emotions his presence stirs and the worry that knots your stomach at the sight of his injuries. “Jungkook…” you whisper, your voice soft but tinged with concern. “What happened to you?” you question softly.

He doesn’t answer right away, his gaze still fixed on you, as though he’s afraid to look away and break whatever fragile spell this moment holds. But you don’t miss the faint twitch of his lips, like he wants to say something but can’t.

The silence stretches between you, charged and heavy, until finally, you take another step closer, your concern overpowering your hesitation. “Jungkook...” you say again, firmer this time. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Unable to hold yourself back any longer, you step towards him, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. Without a second thought, you crouch down beside him and gently place a hand on his arm, your fingers curling against the fabric of his jacket.

“Come on.” you murmur softly, your worry overpowering the tension that had hung between you for the past week. Jungkook stiffens slightly at your touch, caught completely off guard. He hadn’t expected you to come near him, let alone help him.

But before he can process it, he’s distracted by something entirely different... your scent. It envelops him, warm and sweet, with a faint floral hint that makes his head swim. It’s intoxicating, like you’re some kind of drug, and for a brief moment, he forgets the sting of his bruises.

You carefully pull him up, his weight leaning against you as he stumbles slightly. “Let’s get you inside.” you say, your tone leaving no room for argument. He doesn’t protest, letting you guide him towards the entrance of his shop. With one arm wrapped around his waist for support, you open the door and step inside, the small chime above the entrance ringing softly in the quiet.

It’s your first time in Jungkook’s shop, and as you help him inside, your eyes instinctively wander. The space feels intimate, yet rugged, filled with the unmistakable smell of motor oil and leather. Rows of polished helmets and sleek motorcycle parts line the shelves, glinting under the dim, warm lights.

A large workbench sits towards the back, cluttered with tools and blueprints, while a sleek black motorcycle stands proudly in the center of the room, gleaming like it’s just been polished.

For a moment, you’re almost in awe. You’ve passed by his shop countless times, but stepping inside feels like stepping into a part of him you’ve never seen before. Each detail seems to hold a piece of Jungkook... his precision, his passion, his identity.

But while you’re busy taking in the space, Jungkook is busy watching you. He leans slightly against you, his gaze fixed on your face, illuminated softly by the warm light.

The way your eyes dart around, curious and intrigued, makes something stir in his chest. Even now, with everything that’s happened, he can’t believe how stunning you look and how easily you take his breath away.

Finally, you spot a counter against the wall, and with a quiet urgency, you guide him to it. “Sit here.” you say, your voice firm but gentle. He lowers himself onto the stool with a wince, and you step back slightly, taking a proper look at him.

His face is a mess of bruises, and his split lip looks worse under the harsh lighting. The sight makes your chest tighten with worry.

“Look at you...” you murmur, shaking your head. “You’re hurt.” In that moment, it’s as though all the unresolved tension, the arguments, and the awkward silences are erased. The only thing that matters is him and the pain he’s in.

“Where’s the first aid kit?” you ask, your voice steady but laced with concern. Jungkook hesitates for a second, his eyes still glued to you. It’s impossible for him to look away... the way the soft red of your dress clings to you, the shine in your hair, the way you’re moving with such care for him...it’s overwhelming.

Finally, he clears his throat and gestures toward a cabinet near the workbench. “Over there.” he manages to answer, his voice hoarse. You move quickly, locating the box and pulling it out with purpose.

Taehyung’s jazz party, your plans for the night, everything fades from your mind as you return to Jungkook’s side. Setting the first aid kit on the counter, you pull out antiseptic wipes and gauze, ready to tend to his wounds.

As you gently dab at the cut on his lip, he flinches slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he watches you intently, his gaze softening with every careful motion you make. The way you focus on him, your brows furrowed in concentration, makes his heart ache in a way that has nothing to do with his injuries.

“Why didn’t you take care of this sooner?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence as you work. You don’t look at him, your focus entirely on cleaning the dried blood from his forehead, but your tone carries a mix of frustration and worry. “You shouldn’t be walking around like this.” you add.

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, his lips twitch into a faint, rueful smile. “Didn’t think it mattered.” he mutters, his voice barely audible. You pause at that, your hand stilling for a moment before you continue. “Of course it matters.” you say firmly, your tone soft but resolute. “You matter.”

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with unspoken emotion. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Jungkook feels something warm begin to thaw the cold wall between you.

You want to ask him what happened... why he’s in this state, all battered and bruised, like a fragment of some untold story. But the words falter before they can leave your lips. There’s a hesitation you can’t shake, a fear that prying might break whatever fragile tether still holds the two of you together.

So instead, you focus on the tangible, the here and now, pouring your attention into tending to his wounds while your questions remain locked inside.

For Jungkook, the proximity is intoxicating. Your scent is subtle but distinct, wrapping around him like an embrace, a drug he knows he shouldn’t crave but can’t resist. Every small movement you make draws him in deeper.

The way your long hair cascades over one shoulder, framing your face, the delicate piece of jewelry resting at the hollow of your throat, catching the faint light like a whispered secret. You look like something out of a dream, and he wonders, for the briefest of moments, if this is some cruel trick his mind is playing on him.

“Why are you all dressed up?” The words escape him before he can think them through, his voice low, almost reverent.

You glance at him, your fingers pausing for just a second before resuming their careful work on his bruised knuckles. “My friends and i are going to a Jazz club. Just a small celebration.” There’s no irritation in your tone, no sign that his question was unwelcome. Just calm sincerity, as if speaking to him like this is the most natural thing in the world.

The weight of guilt suddenly bears down on him, sharp and unrelenting. “I’m ruining your plans.” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to the floor, his voice tinged with regret.

You shake your head, an easy, unthinking gesture. “You’re not.” you reply softly. “There’s still time.” The simplicity of your words only deepens the ache inside him.

How can you be this kind, this patient, after everything? The warmth of your presence, the gentle tone of your voice... it’s disarming, unraveling the careful composure he’s trying so hard to maintain.

As you place the last bandage on his forehead, smoothing it down with a tender precision, he can’t help but watch you. Every detail, every gesture, is etched into his memory like a masterpiece he’ll never get tired of admiring. And then, as you pull back, your hands brushing against his ever so slightly, something in him snaps.

Before he realizes what he’s doing, his hand finds your waist, pulling you closer with a delicate urgency. The motion is fluid, instinctive, and you freeze, startled by the suddenness of it all.

Your heart skips a beat, your breath hitching as you find yourself standing between his legs, your hands bracing against his shoulders for balance. His touch is firm but hesitant, as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“Jungkook…” you whisper, your voice fragile, barely audible.

He wants to speak, to apologize, to address the distance that’s grown between you, but the words just won’t come out. He’s too distracted by the feel of you so close, by the way your wide eyes meet his with a mix of surprise and something else, something he can't really read.

He opens his mouth to speak, to apologize, to say something... anything... but the words die before they can form. Instead, his gaze drops to your lips, the space between you charged with an intensity neither of you can ignore.

He drinks in the sight of you... the soft sheen of your skin, the way your breath hitches ever so slightly. He’s utterly lost, caught in the gravity of this moment, and he doesn’t want to be found.

You, too, are caught in the pull, your thoughts hazy and disjointed. Your eyes trace the curve of his lips, lingering on the slight swelling from his injury, and before you know it, you’re leaning in. The distance between you seems to disappear on its own, like some invisible force is drawing you together.

Jungkook’s heart is pounding, his hand tightening ever so slightly on your waist. His mind is a whirlwind, and yet, everything feels perfectly still. This is it, he thinks. This is the moment where everything changes. He’s so close now, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, and he swears he can feel the faintest ghost of a connection with you.

But then, like a cruel twist of fate, your phone rings. The sound is loud, jarring, shattering the fragile bubble that had enveloped you both.

You jolt, startled as you harshly step back, breaking the connection. Your cheeks flush as you fumble for your phone from your clutch that was placed on the counter, the spell broken but the aftereffects still lingering. “Sorry.” you mumble, your voice shaky as you glance at the screen. It’s Seokjin. Of course, it’s Seokjin.

“Where are you?” his familiar voice, laced with concern comes through the line once you answer.

“I... uh...I’m on my way.” you stammer, trying to steady your voice. “I’ll... I'll be there... I'll be there soon.” You hang up quickly, your hands trembling as you slide your phone back into your clutch.

Turning back to Jungkook, you open your mouth to say something, but the words won’t come. Instead, you hold your clutch close, your movements rushed and uncertain.

“I...ummm...I have...I have to go.” you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, you turn and run for the door as your heels click against the floor while your heart pounds against your chest, your mind trying to process what just happened.

Jungkook doesn’t stop you. He stays where he is, leaning against the counter, his hand still tingling from where it had rested on your waist. A faint smile tugs at his lips, bittersweet and filled with longing. He can still feel the warmth of your presence, still smell the faint traces of your perfume lingering in the air.

His heart is a riot in his chest, his mind replaying the moment over and over like a movie he can’t turn off. He tries to calm himself down and to make sense of it all, but one thought keeps cutting through the haze. You were there, with him.

And even if it was for a fleeting moment, everything....everything felt right.

taglist: @kimyishin @ghijkd @dolligguk @mimi1097 @jksusawife @yooforeaa @abbie1847 @myjungkookthighs @thesarcasmqueen-22 @fairypjminie @lovelytaes-blog @jjeonjjk7 @daddyjeonnn @vantelover1306 @jeeykey (if i missed someone, pls lmk !!)

<- part 5 // part 7 ->

series masterlist

#jungkook fic #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts fic #enemies to lovers #jungkook fanfiction

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absxntmxnded · 1 month ago

Text

LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU

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origins!logan x reader

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n

Had this thought in my head and I read a shit ton of Logan blurbs and fics but I’ve never posted anything I’ve randomly written and I’m deffo nervous but fuck it I guess

—————————————————————————

You woke up to it snowing, just like the weatherman predicted. You needed to go into town to get groceries and other necessities, and having put it off all week proved to be a poor decision.

You reluctantly slid out of bed, from the safe, warm, space, and wrapped yourself in your cardigan before padding downstairs to the kitchen. As you filled your coffee pot with water you peered out the window to get a gist of just how bad it was snowing.

It was coming down, but not too hard and the visibility was still good. The tall pine trees that lined the edge of your property swayed with the tender swirls of snow. The sun was unsettlingly bright against the whiteness of the snow, blinding you from looking out for too long.

You poured a cup of coffee and settled at the dining room table, seated perfectly to watch the snow fall and the wildlife wake up with the sun. This life was not perfect by any means, but you knew why Logan chose to home you both out here. It was for comfort, safety, and peace knowing not many would trek through the unknown to find you.

After finishing your coffee, you made your way to the front door, slipping on your winter gear. Tall, thick boots now adorned your feet, and a fur-lined parka wrapping the last remnants of heat from your bed against you. You knew if you wanted to make it to town you would have to shovel the driveway now and leave soon before the weather got worse. With that, with your now gloved hands, you opened the front door and invited the bitter cold in. The wind whipped you in the face and it stung hard, but nothing you weren’t already used to.

You grabbed the shovel and started a path from the steps of the front deck to the truck. From there, you went up and down the driveway in straight lines, careful not to slip. You were so focused on the task at hand you could barely hear Logan calling from the front deck.

“Princess! What are you doing?” Logan calls. You turn around to see your boyfriend standing there, head cocked, arms across his chest with that ever present scowl across his face. You knew he wasn’t seriously upset with you but you never enjoyed seeing him upset. “Give me the shovel, you go inside and get warmed up.” Logan says while coming down the path you made.

You pulled the shovel out of his reach. “Not a chance Logan, I’m almost done, I can handle it.” You said, matching his stern tone.

“I don’t care if you can handle it, I will finish, now go.” He said, pointing at the house. You weren’t going to give in that easily.

“Logan, I am perfectly capable of shoveling the driveway! I used to do it when I lived with my parents, seriously I’m fine.” You appreciated Logan’s kindness to help you with everything, but sometimes you just really wanted to show him how independent you were.

Logan places his hands on your shoulders. dusting the snow off. “Darlin, I know you’re capable of shoveling the driveway. You’re capable of a lot of things, but you live with me now. I’m taking care of you now, so I do this, okay?” You felt your heart swell and you couldn’t even think of where to begin what to say. Your whole life, you were the person everyone else relied on. The feeling of gratitude and love filled your chest and soon your eyes. You stammered, not even knowing how to respond to Logan.

He didn’t even give you a chance to answer before he picked you up and slung you over his shoulders like you weighed nothing. “Logan!” you screeched, “Put me down!” You were giggling and smacking Logan’s back, but that was hardly a deterrent to him. He effortlessly carried you back into the house, placing you by the wood stove to heat you quicker. Carefully, he undressed your winter gear and clothes, laying them on the back of the couch to dry. You allowed him this moment in caring for you, because you knew deep down this was mending broken pieces of him, slowly but surely.

Before you knew it, you were down to your undies and bra, being hoisted over Logan’s shoulder again, this time being taken upstairs. “Logan! I can walk!”

“I know darlin.”

Logan set you down gently on the bed and turned to rummage through his drawers. He turned back around holding sweatpants and a sweatshirt, which were clearly his. A toothy grinned crossed his face as he walked to you. He first put the sweatpants on you, sliding them over each foot and up to your hips. Then he carefully pulled the oversized hoodie over you. Last, to finish off your look, he brought out the warmest cabin socks he could find, carefully slipping those on as well. He stepped back and gave a once over of his job. You couldn’t help but break out into laughter.

“Whats’o funny?” He scrunched his nose and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Nothing Logan, you’re just going overboard, I’m fine, was hardly cold and I could’ve fini-.” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as Logan cut you off with a sweet kiss.

“Like I said before, you live here now. I’m supposed to be taking care of you, so let me. You don’t need to do everything anymore. I love you.” Logan held your hands and kissed your forehead before laying you down and pulling the covers over you. “Now you lay here and warm up. I’ll finish the driveway, and cook breakfast. Then we can head to town. Okay darlin?” Logan’s hazel eyes were surrounded by those crinkles you absolutely adored, and a bright smile only reserved for you.

You nodded. “Okay, Lo…” you smiled up at him, taking in his gentle features and soaking in the love and display of affection Logan was giving you. Logan leaned down and pressed a longer kiss to your forehead before pushing some hair to the side of your face. “I love you sweetheart.” He said as he moved to the door, glancing back one more time to flash a grin before disappearing down the hallway.

You weren’t used to the one being waited on and getting to relax, but living with someone like Logan made it easy.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fluff #origins logan howlett #absxntmxnded blurbs #oh im so sorry if this is bad #xmen origins wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #xmen #logan x reader

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diejager · 1 year ago

Note

Can i make a request?

i thought of this yesterday what about y/n or the reader has been in 141 for 2 years now and one day 141 gets a new member konig but y\n or the reader is 26 and konig is 19 i feel like this has to be done😍😍

also konig: shy,sweet,tall,big,puppy like for the reader

reader: small,short,sassy,mommy🤭🤭

PLEASEEEE!!!!!

Young Cw: major canon divergence, bullying, intimidation, beating, protective reader, tell me if I missed any.

He hated attention, having people stare at him because he was tall —unnaturally so, towering over everyone despite his young age and timid and anti-social demeanour. He was grateful, really, after Laswell called in some favours to have him transferred from his platoon to a British Task Force as a trainee, someone on probation while he trained and learned how to integrate with the team. He worked well with them, the tall and muscular battering ram that opened up a path and shocked the enemy, working flawlessly beside to team, and yet, he couldn’t work up the energy or want to socialise with them, to open himself up and let them see the raw and softer part of his mind.

That, however, was the least of his problems, they were cordial - nice - with him, Soap and Gaz even went out of their way to include him in their banter, throwing jokes and good-minded laughs, Price acted as the protective figure of his team and extended it to him, Ghost - ever silent and glaring - didn’t mind looming over others and growling orders when someone overwhelmed him, and you were no stranger to threats and blackmail to get someone off his back. His problem, the biggest one, were the envious glares and insulting hisses older soldiers threw at him in hushed tones and occasionally glances when he found himself alone, either training or walking around.

Even in a place where he could let out all his aggression and pent up frustration, he was still victim to bullying, verbal rather than physical, no one would dare lay a hand on him when he was the youngest of the Task Force and under their protective eye. Despite the shielding from brutality, other men still found time and places to openly beat him down with demeaning and aggressive words, belittling his exploits, his awards and all his hard work to escape the hell of his little village (his Mutter was the only exception, he willingly went back on Holidays to see her).

“Look at that giant freak. Reckon he’d break if we put too much weight on him.”

“Bastard’s only here because he’s tall, that’s all he’s good at.”

“Aye, makes sense, never liked him. He might be a nepo baby, pop’s probably a powerful man.”

His Vater was a piece of shit that left him long before he was born, leaving his Mutter to fend for herself and rot away to feed and provide for him until he joined the army to care for her.

He didn’t want to give them more fuel, to retaliate meant more bullying, he learned that the hard way as a child. All König could do was take and take until they got bored, walking away from him to busy themselves with something else. That didn’t mean he didn’t get mad, frustrated or insulted, his hands curling into fists to hold itself back from pummelling them, they were his superiors, he’d be discharged or thrown out for hitting his superiors, especially since he was a foreigner and still new.

“Fuckin’ bastard is glaring.”

He was unknowingly glaring at them, he couldn’t help it, then he turned away, his gaze wandering to the floor before they’d escalate it. He heard one of them spit something out before he stomped towards König, shoulders and chest pushed out to seem bigger than they actually were in an attempt to intimidate him. Standing before him, he felt someone raise their fist, ready to strike him for simply glaring at them after months of being subjected to their intimidation. He was ready to stop them if needed, not a pushover or someone who’d take a beating quietly, eyes cued on the raised arm of an older man, but then he fell, moaning loudly as he fell to his knees.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?!” You appeared behind him, yelling out at the man you just kicked.

They were as surprised to see you, their faces draining of colour as the others scrambled to come up with an excuse. You snuck up on him as much as you did on them, using his height and size to your advantage to land your blow. You moved to stand before him, a shield to a man as tall as he was, protecting him with a vicious glare and damning words, and somehow, he found himself gripping onto the back of your jacket, your name printed on the back and the Task Force’s insignia on your sleeve.

“He was disrespecting us, Lieutenant!”

You didn’t hold back your disbelief, scoffing so loudly that other people had turned their attention to your group.

“Disrespecting? Do you take me for an idiot, Corporal? I’m no blind,” your words were silencing, sending them panicking for another reason to excuse their actions, something disbelieving or idiotic, “This isn’t the first time I’ve written you up to HR, Corporal Matt, Davis, Brown. You’ve done this many times with other operators, especially to König.”

“That’s because-”

“Save your fucking excuses and fuck off!” You nodded away, watching them scramble off.

Glee and smugness filled him, a disgusting feeling that he couldn’t help but enjoy, even as you huff and turn to look at him, head craned upwards to meet his eyes with soft adoration. You were always so warm and caring, as if you weren’t made to be the ruthless killer people made you out to be, but he’d seen you kill, the cold and calculated look in your eyes when you were deployed. You patted his arm, a smile gracing your lips as you reassured him that they wouldn’t bother him anymore.

”Time for dinner, yeah?”

He learned the next day that they were transferred to another base, seen packing up their bags with black eyes and bruises littering their bodies. Sparring, he heard from whispers, from one at to another, the word spread and he found his days quiet and anxiety-free.

“Danke, Leutnantin.”

“You know my name, König. I think you’ve earned the right to say it.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig #tw: bullying

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queenxxxsupreme · 8 months ago

Text

At the End of the World (Cooper Howard x reader)

(Part 2)

A/N: So I don’t know how much I like this, but I think after this piece I’m going to try to follow some of the show but just add my own little twists into it :) I hope you guys like it! Enjoy!!

Warning: nothing outside of canon, mentions of bad dreams and of child loss, a twisted ankle

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Sometimes Lucy doesn’t know when to stop asking questions. Here is Part 1 in case anyone missed it :)

You jolted awake, eyes opening wide and lips parting with a soft gasp. Your heart beat so hard against your chest that it actually hurt.

“Easy, doll.”

You furrowed your brows as you looked up at Cooper. Your head rested in his lap, his hand gently brushing over your hair.

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, rubbing your hands over your face.

“Shit.” You cursed.

”Everything alright?”

”Yeah. Yeah, um…. Just a bad dream, I guess.” You looked over your shoulder to him. You moved to sit against your backpack, your leg brushing against Cooper’s. You bent your knees slightly, bringing your hands up to rub your face. “Do you have my smokes?”

He reached into the pocket on his jacket for the carton of cigarettes and a lighter. You took the carton and pulled out a cigarette. His eyes watched you put the stick between your lips. With a flick of his thumb, a flame appeared over the lighter. You leaned over to light the cigarette, taking a small breath.

“Heart’s racin’.” He commented.

You leaned back, blowing a cloud of smoke out of your mouth.

Your hand falls down to your lap, the cigarette dangling loosely between two fingers.

You try to fight the feeling, to fight the scratchy lump forming in your throat. Your right eye stings with tears and your chest tightened as if you were being suffocated.

“I miss her so much, Coop.” Though your voice was weak, he could hear your words just fine.

“I know ya do, doll.”

You hastily brushed the tears off of your cheek. Your gaze fell upon the Vault Dweller that laid fast asleep just a few feet away from you.

You raised the cigarette to your lips, the stick trembling just slightly in your grip.

“My Gracie would be about her age now.”

Wordlessly, Cooper reached over to place his hand on your knee. He didn’t know how to comfort you, how to make you feel better. As a parent himself, he knew what it was like to lose a child. Though for him, there was the smallest chance that his girl was still alive. He just wasn’t sure.

”Finish that cigarette, doll, then you need to try to go to sleep.”

You stiffly shook your head.

“I don’t want to sleep. If-If I have to see her again….” You trailed off.

Cooper let out a soft sigh. You were one stubborn lady.

Silence fell between the two of you. Your eyes seemed glued to Lucy but your gaze was blank. Even though you sat right next to him, you were a thousand miles away.

***

When the sun came up, you, Lucy, and Cooper were back to trudging across the Wasteland. You walked a few feet ahead of Lucy and behind her was Cooper. His eyes continuously scanned the Wasteland for any signs of danger, one hand resting on a handgun on his hip. He had bound Lucy’s hands before the three of you started your journey. He didn’t trust her.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Lucy spoke as she jogged to catch up to you. You glanced over to her for a few moments before looking back to the path ahead.

“I’m not feeling too chatty today. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

”Are you okay?”

”Yes, I’m fine.”

”I’ve been having a lot of bad dreams lately too.” Lucy sighed out. “There’s just…. There’s so much death and-and blood. I don’t know how people do it.”

”We don’t have any other choice.”

”Yeah, I guess.” The vault dweller shrugged her shoulders.

“Some of us have had to go through so much that the thought of giving up now seems…. It seems pointless. We just….” You paused for a moment. “We just have to keep finding the next thing to keep us going.”

”Like what?” She looked over to you. “Icy, I-I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. You had a family, a whole family and-and now…. I wouldn’t be able to keep going.”

You pressed your lips together. You wanted to be angry with her, to be upset with her. If she thought that everything that had happened to her in the short time she’s been on the surface was bad, she was in for a nasty surprise.

��Sometimes after such loss…. It takes finding someone else who has been through similar things to keep you going.”

Lucy glanced over her shoulder to the Ghoul that traveled a little ways behind them.

The vaultie followed you down a slight incline, but she stepped the wrong way and twisted her ankle. Immediately, she fell to the ground from the pain.

“Ah! Ow! Ow, ow ow!”

”Quiet down, girly.” You knelt down beside her. She clutched at her ankle, groaning in pain. With your cybernetic left eye, you could see that she had overstretched the ligaments.

”What the hell happened, Vaultie?” Cooper looked down at the two of you.

“She sprained her ankle.” You sighed, untying her boot.

“Course she did.”

“Wait, what-what are you doing?” Lucy furrowed her brows.

”Your ankle is going to swell and if you leave it in your boot, it’ll only do you more damage.”

”Oh. O-Okay. Yeah, that makes sense. I guess.” Lucy breathed. “Are-Are you a doctor?”

You looked at her for a couple moments. Sometimes you weren’t sure if she was being serious or joking with you.

You put the boot into your backpack and stood up.

“She’s not going to be able to walk much longer, Coop.”

”Well she don’t got much of a choice, does she?”

You looked to the west where the sun was beginning to set.

“We’re about four hours out from Alma’s.” You looked to Cooper. His jaw went slack as he brought his hand up to rub his brow.

“Damn it.”

”Who’s Alma?” Lucy started to try to stand up. You held your hand out for her to help her to her feet, then you cut off the rope binding her hands together. It would make it easier to help her walk with her hands not stuck together. “Thanks.”

”She’s a friend.”

”A friend ain’t what I’d call her. She tried to kill me last time I saw her.”

”Well she isn’t exactly your biggest fan, Cooper.”

The Ghoul held your gaze. He didn’t want to go all the way to Alma’s. It was out of the way and would just tack more time on to the trip. Not to mention, he didn’t want Alma involved. But with Lucy’s new injury, you really didn’t have a choice.

”I reckon we’re goin’ to Alma’s.”

”Come on, Lucy.” You moved to stand on her right side to provide her support while she walked.

***

Six Hours Later

It was dark by the time you arrived at your destination. It was in what used to be a suburban neighborhood but many of the houses had long since been abandoned. You passed by one derelict house after another, eyes carefully scanning broken windows and rubble for any signs of danger. You knew the danger would be limited as Alma was in charge of most of the raiders in the area, but sometimes the raiders were a little rowdy and eager to attack.

There was one house that stood a little better than those around it. Its windows were mostly boarded up and there was a barbed wire fence around it. The siding of the house had long since lost its original color, instead taking on a more rusty brown color. The right side of the roof to the front porch had fallen in and it made the house appear unsafe to enter.

You stopped at the fence and let Lucy go.

“You two stay out here for just a moment.” Your eyes flickered back to Cooper. He nodded once in acknowledgement.

You slipped between the barbed fencing and then climbed the creaky wooden stairs. Just as you were about to knock on the door, it was pulled open.

An older woman stood in the doorway, a shotgun by her side. Her dark but graying hair was put up in some sort of high mess atop her head. Behind large lensed wire framed glasses were two big brown eyes.

“Icy May. Ain’t no way in hell I thought I’d be seein’ you again.” The shotgun in her hand was leaned against the wall on the inside of the house.

“Hello, Alma.” You smiled, embracing her tightly. “It’s good to see you.”

”You too, dear. So good to see such a pretty face.” She pulled away to get a better look at you. “You look all in one piece. What brings you all the way out this way, darlin?”

”I have a huge favor to ask you.” You stepped aside so that Alma could see the two who traveled with you.

Alma leaned forward, eyes squinting as she struggled to see whoever it was even with her glasses on.

“Oh hell, Icy May.” She shook her head, adjusting the old cardigan that she wore.

“Well ain’t it my favorite old maid.” Cooper spoke, giving Lucy a nudge to go through the fence. Lucy slipped between two of the barbed wires and nervously started for the stairs.

“Shut the hell up, you old bastard. I still haven’t gotten over what you did last time you was here.” Alma nodded her head to the side of the porch that had fallen in.

“I happen to think it made this place look better. More welcomin’.”

”Well I ain’t trying to be more welcomin’.” Alma put her hands on her hips. Her eyes followed Lucy as she struggled to get up the stairs. “What in the hell is this, Icy? A vault dweller?”

”It’s a long story, Alma.” You shook your head. “We just need to rest for the night.”

Her eyes flickered up to you, hesitating. A vault dweller could mean big trouble.

”Aw, what the hell.” She threw her hands in the air and turned to go into her house. She picked up the shotgun she had left by the door.

You offered Lucy your shoulder once again and walked with her to the living room.

The house wasn’t as bad on the inside as it was on the outside. Wallpaper was peeling off of the walls and in some places, it was missing all together. There was a fireplace that had been filled up with rocks. A sofa, which had definitely seen better days, was in the living room. Beside it was a rocking chair and a little end table. It appeared as though the end table was a combination of two different tables put together.

“You have a lovely home.” Lucy complimented.

Alma shook her head, swatting a hand at the Vaultie.

“There’s food in the pantry and water in the washroom down the hall. You’d better get cleaned up and settled for the night. It’s already late.”

”Thank you, Alma.” You offered her a little smile. “We’ll be gone when the sun rises.”

”Better be. Don’t want Howard fuckin’ anything up anymore than he got to.”

“Missed you too, ya old bat.” Cooper muttered.

You took Lucy to the washroom and left her there, then you went to the kitchen. Cooper was already helping himself to the pantry. He sat at the kitchen table with a can of some sort of nonperishable food.

“There’s the couch in the living room and there’s two rooms with mattresses.” Alma told you. She moved around the kitchen, gathering up a canteen and a pack of cigarettes.

”Where are you scurryin’ off to?” Cooper asked her.

”I ain’t scurryin’ nowhere, asshole. It’s past my bedtime and you bunch look worse than the backside of a feral hog.” Alma stopped at you to give you a one armed hug. “We’ll talk in the mornin’, honey.”

”Good night, Alma.”

”Night, girly.”

You watched her leave the kitchen then listened to the floorboards creak as she disappeared down the hallway.

“You should eat somethin’.” Cooper spoke. You rubbed his shoulder before moving to pull a chair up beside him.

“I will.”

It felt nice to finally be able to sit down. Your feet hurt and you were exhausted.

Cooper leaned forward to give your knee a squeeze. Your eyes flickered up to meet his gaze.

***

A little while later, Lucy had retired to the room she was going to be staying in. You and Cooper would be sharing the other mattress in the room across the hall from Lucy.

You made your way down the hallway, doing your best to be as quiet as possible. You didn’t want to disturb Alma.

You came to a stop in the doorway of Lucy’s room, watching her as she sat on the edge of the mattress . She was in the process of eating a can of peaches when she noticed you were standing in the door.

“Oh, um…” She quickly swallowed a peach and held the can out towards you. “Do you want a peach?”

”No, thank you.” You shook your head. “Alma is a good friend of mine.”

”Oh, yeah! She’s incredible. Super nice person.”

”Can I trust you to be here, Lucy?”

She stopped eating the peaches and directed her attention to you.

“She’s taking a big risk letting us stay here for the night. If anything happened to her while we were here….” You trailed off. “Alma’s one of the last few good people out here.”

She nodded her head softly, understanding what you were telling her.

”So do I have to keep an eye on you or can I trust you?”

”You can trust me.”

You weren’t sure you completely believed her.

“Good.” You turned to leave but she stopped you.

“Thank you, Icy. For…. For everything.”

You leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms.

“You need to stop thanking me.”

“You’ve practically saved my life by showing up. Who knows what that man would’ve done with me if you hadn’t come along.”

You gazed at her for a few moments, her bright blue eyes still filled with some sort of kindness. It wasn’t often that you came across those kinds of people.

“Good night, Lucy.”

“Oh, uh good night, Icy.” Lucy was confused with your sudden ending of the conversation. That seemed to be a trait of yours.

You moved down the hallway, your quiet footsteps still making the floorboards squeak.

Cooper was in the room the two of you would be sharing. He had taken off his bandolier, holster belt, and duster coat. All items had been placed in a pile at the foot of the mattress. The ghoul was lounging across the mattress with his breather in one hand, a cigarette in the other, and his shoulders leaning up against your backpack. One knee was bent and that was where his hat rested.

His eyes watched as you took off most of your layers. First it was your jacket, then the old flannel, and tattered sweatshirt. You were left in cargo pants, boots, and a thin brown tank top that had definitely seen better days. You pulled your hair out of the ponytail it was in to fix it up for the night.

“My, my, my. Ain’t you a sight fit for kings.”

I tried to bite back the smile that crept across your face but it was no use.

“Keep the charming to yourself, old man. We need to get some sleep.” You sat down on the mattress facing the ghoul. You leaned your torso against his bent leg, picking up his hat and placing it on your head.

He offered you the cigarette, which you gladly took. His breather was discarded on the floor beside the mattress.

You inhaled and held the chemicals in your lungs for a few moments. As you exhaled, Cooper brought his hand up to cup your face. His thumb, calloused and rough, traced your bottom lip.

You let him do so, your eyes steadily watching his face.

He traced the curve of your bottom lip, then used his fingertips to trail along your cheekbone and your temple. He brushed a few pieces of hair back out of your face.

”So what’s your big plan once we get to Hank MacLean?”

The ghoul paused for a moment, pulling his hand away from your face to rest it on his chest. You passed the cigarette back to him and he took it.

”I want to know what happened to them.” He was quiet as to not let his voice carry throughout the otherwise silent house.

You nodded your head. Cooper waited for you to speak. He waited, and waited, and waited. But you said nothing. All you could do was gaze down at one of the buttons on his shirt. The original button, which had been a light shade of brown, was torn off some time ago but you recall sewing a dark green button in its place.

“Say somethin’, doll.” He urged you, tapping the side of your leg gently.

You bit the inside of your cheek, finishing off the cigarette with a deep inhale.

“I hope you find the answers you’re looking for, sweetheart.” You put the cigarette out on the soul of your boot and started to move, wanting to reposition yourself. Cooper stopped you from moving, his hand grabbing yours.

“I just…. I have to find out, Icy.”

”I know.” You murmured softly with a nod of your head. “I’d want to know too, if I was in your place.”

It wasn’t like the two of you were in a full fledged relationship where one of you had asked the other to commit to you, but it also wasn’t casual. Cooper Howard didn’t do casual. It was far too hard to trust someone enough for that sort of thing.

”Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about it.” He put his head back, his hand steadily rubbing your leg as he directed his eyes to the ceiling. “I mean, if MacLean has been able to live this long, then there’s a chance…. even the smallest of one…. that they could be out there.”

You smiled a little, though it was sad and didn’t reach your eyes. If you believed in a higher power, you would pray to them to make it all true, to make his hopes and desires a reality. It was what he deserved after all that he had been through.

Though you wanted to be happy for him, your chest tightened a little with the idea of him finding his family. What would happen to you if he found his wife and his daughter?

You reached out to take his hand away from your leg, clasping your fingers together tightly.

“I hope they are.” You brought his hand up to kiss the inside of his wrist.

Cooper watched you kiss his wrist once, then twice before holding his hand in your lap. He didn’t let you linger in your thoughts for too long. He pulled you down towards him, making you lay down beside him.

“It’s nothin’ but wishful thinking.” He thought out loud.

“Sometimes that’s all that keeps us going.”

***

The Next Morning

Lucy made her way out of her room, using the wall for support as she limped down the hallway. She peered into the living room and found it empty. Her next stop was the kitchen.

The Ghoul sat at the kitchen table, which was covered in an assortment of junk. He was wiping off one of his hand guns.

Lucy looked around the kitchen, hoping and praying she’d find you or Alma.

Cooper glanced up at the vault dweller, very briefly meeting her gaze before looking back down at his weapons.

“Oh, um…. Good morning.” Lucy greeted him in an attempt to be friendly, but friendly wasn’t Cooper Howard’s thing.

He stayed silent.

Lucy leaned against the doorway to take her weight off of her ankle.

”Is Icy up yet?”

”She went out with Alma.” His answer was short and stiff.

“Oh, okay.” Lucy nodded her head.

She stood there for a few moments awkwardly. Should she just go back to the bedroom and hideout until you and Alma returned?

Oh, what the heck.

Lucy limped over to the table and pulled out a bulky wooden chair to sit in. She sighed in relief as she sat down. She examined the amount of junk on the table, curious as to what exactly everything was.

It wasn’t long before Lucy became bored and found herself watching the ghoul that had taken her hostage.

“So…. Is your name Cooper? Or is it Howard? Because, well, I heard Icy call you one and Alma called you another. So I guess I’m just a little confused.” She chuckled nervously.

”My name don’t matter to you, Vaultie.” He sat the handgun down on the table then picked up a shotgun.

“Well I’d like to have something to call you when I talk to you, to have a conversation like real people do.”

”Ah, but who said I wanted to have a conversation with you?”

Lucy pressed her lips together. This man was awfully hard to get along with.

”That’s fair, I guess.” She nodded.

Silence fell between the two as Cooper continued to clean the gun. Once he was finished cleaning the sawed off shotgun, he began to load it.

Lucy sighed, bored out of her mind. Cooper wasn’t entertaining at all. She messed with the cuff on her suit to try to keep herself occupied and to try to keep her mouth shut for a little bit longer.

“Do you love her?” The question kind of just came out without Lucy really realizing what she had said.

Cooper dropped the bullet that he was trying to shove into his gun. It made a loud banging noise as it hit the floor.

“What in the hell did you just say to me, Miss MacLean?” He looked at her, his eyes dark and sharpened.

The use of her name made Lucy feel on edge. He had always just called her Vaultie.

“I-I was just— I just see the way you guys are with each other. I didn’t mean it in-in a bad way, you know?”

The ghoul was silent as he held her gaze. He leaned forward to retrieve the bullet from the ground. He shoved it into the gun and placed the gun on the table.

The front door to the house creaked open. Lucy turned her head to see. You and Alma walking in.

“How’d you sleep, honey?” Alma put her hand on Lucy’s shoulder. The vault dweller opened her mouth to answer but Alma spoke over her. “Howard, if you don’t get your damn guns off my table, I’m gonna beat the piss outta you.”

Cooper didn’t offer any sort of smart comment back. He just picked up each gun and tucked them into their appropriate holster.

“I slept well, thank you. Where, uh, where did you guys go?” Lucy asked, turning her attention to you.

“Had to make a run early this morning.” You placed your backpack on the table, pushing some of the junk back so you had space. You rummaged through the bag before pulling out a stimpack. ”How’s your ankle feeling?”

”Really bad, actually. It’s super sore and looks very bruised.” Lucy eyed the giant needle at the end of the stimpack. “What’s, um, what’s that for?”

”You’re ankle. You can’t travel with a busted ankle and we can’t stay here.”

”But what is it?”

”A stimpack. It will heal your ankle up enough to get you back on your feet.”

With no warning, Cooper stood up and left the room rather hastily. Old floorboards creaked beneath the weight of his worn boots.

“What crawled up his ass?” Alma pushed her glasses back on to her head to hold her hair back out of her eyes.

“I don’t know.” You hummed. You listened to him move around in one of the back bedrooms.

He wasn’t a chatty person by any means, but surely he would’ve greeted you and Alma with some sort of witty remark. And you were very positive he would’ve given Alma an asinine remark about his guns on her table.

“What happened while we were gone?” You turned your attention to Lucy.

“I-I was just trying to talk with him.” She put her hands up, shaking her head.

“And…. Boy is he difficult to have a conversation with.”

You sighed heavily. Why couldn’t the vaultie get it through her head that sometimes she needed to shut up?

“I’ll be back in a second, Alma.” You looked over to your friend before going down the hallway to the bedroom Cooper was in.

He stood leaning against the side of the open window. He was fidgeting with his breather, replacing the empty vial with a full one.

”You leave me with that girl again, woman, and you’re gonna be scrapin’ what’s left of her brain off of Alma’s walls.” He grumbled.

You pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of your jacket.

“She’s got a way of getting under your skin.” You put the cigarette between your lips and tucked the carton away, then pulled out a lighter. “What’d she say?”

”Don’t matter.” He took a puff of the breather. You held the cigarette out to him and he gladly took it, crossing the room and closing the space between the two of you in just a few strides.

You watched as he put the cigarette in his mouth and took a deep drag from him.

“I’ll fuckin’ gut her like a pig next time she tries to talk to me.”

”You don’t mean that.” You shook your head gently.

He exhaled the cigarette smoke right into your face, then took another quick puff of it.

”Like hell I don’t.”

You took the cigarette from between his fingers.

“She means well.”

Cooper watched you, his gaze still hard and angry. You inhaled the cigarette.

“What did she say to you, Cooper?” Your voice was quiet.

He looked down at you for a while. Then let out a breath and adjusted the hat on his head, casting his eyes downward to his boots.

”We need to be leavin’.”

Without another word, the Ghoul slipped past you to go down the hallway.

taglist: @green--beanie @mack-attack420 @miniemonie2001 @eykismyfav @fallout-girl219 (I think I tagged anyone but I’m so sorry if I missed you!)

#fallout #fallout tv series #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard fallout #cooper howard fic #the ghoul cooper howard #queenxxxsupreme

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girlrotterr · 7 months ago

Text

But I'm a Lesbian! pt.6

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: omgg, the final chapter is heree!! thank you to everyone who supported this series!! I love & appreciate you <33

→ Part one! → Part two! → Part three! → Part four! → Part five!

You and Ellie hurried through the dark hallways, The darkness of the night was cold, the moon casting long shadows on the ground. The only sounds were the distant chirping of crickets and the occasional rustling of leaves. Your footsteps were careful, almost soundless, but your whispers broke the silence.

“You should start the fire,” you said, glancing nervously around to make sure no one was nearby.

“Me? Why me?” Ellie snapped back in a whisper, wincing slightly from the pain in her asscheek.

“Because you’ve got the lighter!” you argued, trying to keep your voice low.

Ellie shook her head, “And you have hands! It’s not rocket science. Just light it up and run.”

"Seriously, I shouldn't be the one starting it," you argued. "If something goes wrong, I don't want to be the one to blame.”

Ellie snapped back, "And you think I do? This is your mess too!"

"Ugh! Why do you have to argue with everything?" you exclaimed in a harsh whisper.

Ellie scoffed, "What are you talking about?"

"You're always disagreeing or instigating something," you shot back. "Shit, it's the reason for most of your fits with Abby! Which, by the way, there's clearly some gay-ass tension between you two..."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "Seriously?! You want to talk about this now? We wouldn't even BE doing this if someone didn't kill the fucking nurse!"

You gasped, feeling a pang of guilt. "I didn't kill her!... At least I don't think I did... fuck! I hope I didn't!!"

Ellie scoffed again, her tone sharp. "If that blow didn't kill her, then a permanent coma is her best bet."

You sighed in relief, "I don't need charges on my record so soon... I still need to commit—wait, wait, wait! Don't fucking change the subject! What's the animosity with Abby?!"

Ellie shot you a look. "What's with the questions all of a sudden?!"

"I need answers to all the crazy shit you've all put me through! Like, how did the nurse and Abby even happen? Why is the director of a conversion camp a closeted lesbian? And why is Dina the only somewhat normal person here—"

Before you could finish, Ellie swiftly covered your mouth with her hand, her eyes burning with intensity. "You're... insufferable," she said, her voice tinged with frustration. "From the moment you stepped foot into our dorm, you've been aggravating."

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden outburst. Ellie's face was close to yours, her gaze unwavering. "I was doing so well," she continued, her voice strained. "I had everything under control, focusing on my tasks, keeping my composure. And yet, you came along and ruined it all."

"You've taken over my mind. Suddenly every thought I have is centered around you. I can’t focus on something without needing to gaze at you." Ellie muttered, her voice softer now, almost pleading. "You've completely thrown me off balance."

You could see the conflict in her eyes, the struggle between wanting to push you away and needing to be close to you. Your eyes widened . Ellie’s words sank in, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You mumbled something against her hand, and she slowly let it go.

"If you were having gay panic, you should've just said so," you said, half-teasing.

A sudden light illuminated the nearby path, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The director was doing her rounds, her flashlight sweeping from side to side. Ellie reacted instantly, grabbing your arm and pulling you down into the bushes. You both crouched low, trying to steady your breathing as the director's footsteps grew closer.

"Shit," Ellie whispered, her grip on your arm tightening. "We need to stay quiet."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. The director's light passed dangerously close, the beam brushing the edges of the bushes where you hid. You could hear her muttering to herself, something about the nurse not being at her station. Ellie glanced at you, her eyes wide.

The light paused, and you both held your breath, the world seeming to freeze around you. The director's footsteps resumed, moving away from your hiding spot. You exhaled slowly, feeling a rush of relief.

"That was close," you whispered, glancing at Ellie.

You both stayed hidden for a few more moments, ensuring the director was far enough away. Then, cautiously, Ellie peeked out from the bushes, scanning the area. "Alright, she's gone. Let's move."

You both emerged from your hiding spot, hearts still racing. The courtyard was silent again, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. Ellie took your hand, leading you toward the designated spot for starting the fire.

"Okay," Ellie whispered, her eyes darting around "We need to fucking hurry."

You nodded, your nerves on edge. "I'll keep watch. You start the fire."

Ellie shot you a look. "Alright."

She set to work, gathering some dry leaves and twigs, her movements quick and precise. You kept watch, scanning the courtyard for any signs of movement. The tension was suffocating, every rustle of the wind making you jump.

Ellie fumbled with the lighter, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to strike a flame. The lighter jammed, and she cursed under her breath, shaking it and trying again. "Come on, damn it!"

You stood next to her, nervously glancing around. "Hurry up, Ellie! The director could come back any second!"

"I'm trying!" Ellie snapped back, shaking the lighter vigorously. "This piece of shit isn't working!"

The two of you exchanged heated words, the stress of the situation making it hard to stay calm. "Why isn't it working?" you hissed, your anxiety spiking.

Ellie pulled it away, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I've got it! Just give me a second!"

Just as you were about to respond, the lighter finally sparked to life. Ellie quickly brought it to the pile of dry leaves and twigs, the tiny flame catching and starting to grow. But before she could fully ignite the pile, the director's flashlight beam swept across the courtyard again, heading straight for you.

"Come on, let's go!" Ellie grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the scene. In her rush, she accidentally kicked a burning stick near the edge of the building. Flames began to lick at the wooden structure, spreading rapidly.

You and Ellie ran toward the forest, hearts pounding, not daring to look back until you were safely hidden among the trees. Breathless, you both turned to see the building catching fire, the flames climbing higher.

"Uh, Ellie," you said, staring at the growing blaze.

Ellie followed your gaze, her expression shifting from shock to disbelief. "Well, shit,"

_____

"Hold her legs up higher!" Abby grunted, struggling with the weight.

"I'm trying!" Dina hissed back, sweat beading on her forehead.

The two of them wrestled with the nurse's limp form, trying to fit her into the cramped space. Abby pushed, and Dina pulled, both of them gritting their teeth with the effort.

"Okay, almost there," Abby said, maneuvering the nurse's arm inside. "Just a little more."

Dina adjusted the nurse's legs, finally managing to tuck them in. The cabinet door barely closed, the nurse's fingers still visible through the gap.

"Shit, that’s not gonna work," Dina muttered, eyeing the barely shut door.

"We don't have time," Abby said, her tone urgent. "We need to get our stuff and get out of here..”

Dina nodded, moving quickly to the drawer they had been trying to unlock. "The nurse had the keys, right?"

Abby reached into the nurse's pocket, pulling out a small set of keys. "Fuck yeah."

Abby tossed the keys to Dina, but in the rush, Dina fumbled the catch, and the keys fell to the ground with a metallic clink. Dina scrambled to pick them up, her hands shaking . At that exact moment, a loud crash echoed. Abby turned to see the nurse's body come flying out of the cabinet, landing face down on the floor.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Abby groaned in frustration.

"Sooo, I know this isn't the most perfect time to ask this but.." Dina glanced at Abby who was holding the limp body over her shoulder.

"Just ask," Abby replied, her tone strained with the effort of holding the nurse's body.

Dina took a deep breath. "Do you think after all this, you and Ellie could reconcile?"

Abby's brows furrowed in surprise. "What?"

"Everything that happened with Cat, Ab's," Dina continued.

Abby furrowed her brows, "It wasn't that serious with Cat, alright? We were just having fun. And besides, Cat just wasn't the one for ellie."

Dina let out an exasperated sigh. "Imagine how Ellie felt walking in on you giving her crush mind-blowing backshots with another bitch suffocating on her tits!"

Abby rolled her eyes. "You were that other bitch!"

Dina scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. "Woah, woah, woah! I apologized to Ellie, okay?! I blamed it on the perc and told her that it made me hallucinate!"

Suddenly, the shrill sound of the fire alarm pierced the air.

"Shit, shit, shit," Abby cursed, glancing nervously at the door. "We need to hurry."

Dina's heart raced as she finally managed to open the drawer, revealing their confiscated belongings piled inside. "Got it!" She quickly grabbed their things and stuffed them into her bag, her movements frantic as she tried to gather everything.

"We need to go, now!" Abby urged.

___

You and Ellie sprinted through the forest, branches scratching at your arms and legs as you dodged trees and bushes. The glow of the fire behind you illuminated the night.

Finally, you broke through the tree line and spotted Abby and Dina emerging from the building, looking frazzled but unharmed. They hurried toward you, carrying bags filled with your confiscated belongings.

"We need to fucking leave now!" Ellie gasped for air, glancing back at the burning building. "The director's out here—what the fuck?" She stopped mid-sentence, eyes widening at the sight of the nurse still limp and draped over Abby's shoulder.

Abby adjusted her grip on the nurse, "She wouldn't fit, okay!" Abby said defensively, her voice strained. "I didn't know what else to do!"

Dina, her face flushed with adrenaline, glanced nervously at the approaching flames and the chaos behind them. "Her plump fucking ass would take up half the space!"

“Is she still out?" you asked, looking at the nurse's unconscious form.

Abby nodded, "Yeah, she hasn't woken up yet."

"We need to hide her somewhere," Ellie said, her mind racing. "If the director finds her like this, we'll be fucking screwed."

Dina pointed toward a nearby shed, half-hidden in the shadows. "There! We can hide her in there."

With a collective effort, you all hurried toward the shed, Abby struggling to keep the nurse balanced as you navigated through the forest. Ellie pushed open the creaky door, and you quickly cleared a space inside, shoving old tools and supplies out of the way.

Abby gently laid the nurse down on a pile of rags,"Hopefully no bears chew her alive," Dina said, straightening up and wiping sweat from her brow.

"Yeah, they’d have to chew through the silicone first." abby said.

___

As you continued through the forest, the distant glow of the fire gradually faded, but the urgency to keep moving pressed on. Finally, after what felt like hours, you stumbled upon a small clearing near the edge of the property. There, partially hidden behind some bushes, was the director's car.

"Fuck yeah," Ellie muttered, running her hand over the hood. "This is our way out."

Abby glanced around nervously. "We need to hurry. The director could be anywhere."

Ellie quickly got to work on the car, she pried open the dashboard and began fumbling with the wires. The silence of the night was broken only by the occasional crackle of leaves and distant shouts from the burning building.

Dina kept watch, her eyes darting around. "Come on, Ellie, faster," she urged, her voice tight with anxiety.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Ellie snapped back, her fingers working frantically. "This isn't exactly fucking easy."

Just then, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps rapidly approaching.

“You fucking clit sucking lesbians!!” You turned to see the director, flashlight in hand, sprinting toward you, her face a mask of fury.

"Shit! She's coming!" you yelled, panic setting in.

"Why did we let this fucking loser do this intricate ass shit!" Dina yelled.

"Shut up and let me concentrate!" Ellie snapped, her hands shaking as she twisted the last wire.

You all turned to see the director sprinting towards you, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness.

The engine roared to life just as the director reached the car. Without a second thought, Ellie slammed her foot on the gas pedal. The car lurched forward, the tires kicking up dirt and gravel. The director, caught off guard, tried to jump out of the way but wasn't quick enough. The car clipped her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Oh my fucking god!" Dina screamed, turning to look back at the director lying motionless on the ground.

The car skidded to a halt down the road, and the four of you rushed out.

Blood trickled from a gash on the director's forehead, glistening under the dim moonlight. You covered your mouth, a wave of nausea washing over you. "This is why I wanted to escape alone!" you exclaimed, "Whenever I'm with you three, some insane shit happens!"

Dina clutched your arm, "Maybe we can be cellmates!"

Ellie began pacing back and forth, "I need a cigarette. " she said, running a hand through her hair.

Abby, meanwhile, had knelt beside the director. She rifled through the director's pockets, finally pulling out her wallet. "Well, we need money, right?" she said, flipping it open and inspecting it.

"Are you seriously robbing her right now?" Ellie snapped, her eyes wide with disbelief.

Abby stood up, pocketing the wallet. "We can't afford to get caught. If we have to be on the run, we'll need cash."

You felt a rush of frustration. "This is insane. We’re not criminals!"

"Maybe not, but we are now," Abby replied, her tone cold. "We don’t have a choice."

Dina glanced back at the car, her eyes flicking between the director and the vehicle. "We can’t leave her here. Someone will find her, and then they'll trace us."

Ellie stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "We need to hide her, at least until we can figure out our next move."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "Alright, let's move her into the woods, somewhere she won't be easily found."

Together, you and the others carefully lifted the director's unconscious body, moving her off the road and deeper into the forest. The underbrush crackled underfoot as you carried her, the darkness swallowing you up. You finally found a secluded spot, laying her gently on the ground.

"Okay," Abby said, looking around, "this should buy us some time."

Dina sighed heavily, wiping her forehead. "Now what?"

"We get back in the car and keep driving," Ellie said, her voice firm. "We find somewhere to lay low and come up with a plan."

As Ellie started the car, the headlights illuminated a figure standing in the middle of the road. It was another nurse, her eyes wide with shock as she took in the scene."Excuse me, ma'am," Dina yelled out the window, “Where’s the nearest gay bar?"

#ellie williams #ellie fanfic #ellie x y/n #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie smut #abby anderson #abby fanfiction #abby tlou #dina tlou #dina nolastname #ellie williams au #abby anderson au

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cultofdixon · 5 months ago

Text

Day One to the Rest of our Lives

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Part 1 • Before The Outbreak - The Farm • The nurse next door always had a soft spot for the Dixons as they were her family. It took the end of the world and an almost near death experience to get the youngest Dixon to make a move • ANGST/SFW • TW: Canon Violence / Scars / Injuries / Blood Loss / Emergency Surgery / Abuse / Drug & Alcohol Consumption / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

Before The Outbreak

“Merle you’re a fucking dumbass” Daryl groans trying to help walk a drunk and injured Merle up the stairs to their apartment.

“That bitch deserved it!” Merle shouted only to be shushed because of the time of night it was and most of the neighbors hated him.

Except, surprisingly, Y/N. Their next door neighbor that is rarely home or seen because her other home seems to be the hospital she works as a nurse at. One of the times their paths crossed was when Y/N went to the bar Merle frequents at and got blasted after a long day but still managed to give Merle stitches when he decided the bar window was nice to go through.

When the brothers reached the top of the steps, Daryl instantly noticed Y/N sitting on the floor propped up against her door. Merle squinted to see why his brother stopped.

“Y/N WAKE UP” Merle shouted causing Y/N to flinch awake and for Daryl to groan letting go of his brother making him fall onto the floor. “Bitch…”

Y/N blinked a few times to get the sleepiness out of her eyes as she gave a confused look to Merle’s still body on the floor. She was about to ask questions but decided not to and accept the extended hand coming from Daryl.

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Besides drunk, what else you wanna know?”

“Nothing” Y/N laughed a bit, bending down to grab her backpack to get her keys out. “He needs stitches?”

“Just an ice pack, I think imma let him hang there” Daryl crosses his arms looking at his now passed out brother watching Y/N walk over to him and rolling him on his side. “What’s that for?”

“In case he throws up. I’m gonna grab a blanket so he won’t be too uncomfortable out here” Y/N returns to her door unlocking it. “I know he may have ruined it but you want a beer?”

“More so a smoke than a drink” Daryl rubs the back of his neck giving a concerned look to his brother that Y/N noticed once she was halfway through the door.

After dropping off her stuff and taking her coat off, Y/N stepped out gesturing for Daryl to follow her lead in picking up Merle. Her by his legs and him by his arms. Eventually Merle got settled on her couch still on his side and with a trash can beside his head.

“We could’ve—-“

“Nah too many extra steps to get him back in your apartment. Besides, I’m a trained professional in case other shit happens” Y/N went over to her window as she spoke, opening it up enough for her to climb through with Daryl following shortly after.

One would think anyone wouldn’t want anything to do with the Dixon brothers mainly because Merle puts trash onto their name. But Y/N likes their company, Daryl’s mainly, because it keeps her sane and human. Working in a hospital so much to the point one is accused of “living there,” anyone would want normalcy.

It’s an added bonus finding themselves sat in the fire escape, sharing a cigarette from the pack that Y/N hides in the empty plant pot that the previous owners left at her apartment.

“I had to take a decontamination shower at the end of my shift because of the vomit and blood from that singular patient”

“Sounds awful” Daryl frowns, watching Y/N smoke for a moment as he kept his gaze on how tense she was for a while before finally relaxing after exhaling the smoke. Her eyes were exhausted just as the rest of her, but they told so much more that he worried for. “Ever thought of taking a break? Vacation more like”

“With all the hours I’ve got saved, I could. But I’ve been in the hospital for so long that I wouldn’t know what I’d even do”

“Uh…well you like Merle and I, you can join us for our hunting trip” Daryl put that up in the air, looking her curious expression. “It’ll be next month”

“I haven’t gone hunting since my old man was still around…” Y/N put out the last of her cigarette thinking about the option. “You sure Merle would be cool with it?”

He didn’t think that would work. Daryl shrugs as he looked back into the apartment where Merle laid on the couch snoring loudly. “The worse to happen is Merle would hit on yea for most of it”

“I’ve dealt with worse, trust me…a lot worse”

“So…?”

“I’d be happy to. As long as I get a ride from work. I wanna work as much as I can before taking a few days off”

“We can pick yea up from work. Merle will be on his bike and I’ll be taking the truck”

“Works for me, I’ll give you my stuff the day before” Y/N smiles and that quickly faded along with Daryl’s when both heard the eldest Dixon vomit his stomach out. “Yup. Love his company too”

During The Hunting Trip (and the start of the outbreak)

“You wear anything other than the scrubs?”

“Sundresses, but I wasn’t going to pack one of those for a hunting trip Merle” Y/N rolled her eyes, quickly stopping when she heard something. Merle quickly but stealthily followed the noise.

It felt unreal, how quick something can escalate from standing in the open waiting for either Dixon to come back from the noises they’ve heard…to falling back in shock to the undead stepping closer.

The closer it got, the more Y/N let the shock take over that when she reached for her knife…the sicko fell on her. But thankfully with a bolt in its skull. Y/N couldn’t register what had just happened until Merle kicked the corpse off of her body making her lock eyes with the equally shocked Daryl across from her.

“You alright girlie?” Merle asks, not waiting another second as he grabbed her upper arm pulling her up on her feet. “Come on speak! Are yea bit?”

“No I’m…uh what the fuck?!” Y/N shouted once it hit her letting Merle check her arms and neck before shoving him back. “Is this what that fucking radio broadcast was about?”

“Makes sense right about now. But the fact that one is out here…people makin’ camp and bringing those who’ve been infected out here with them”

“Fuck. The hospitals must be flooded with patients with symptoms before it reaches this stage.” The worry on her face only drew an annoyed one out of Merle and an equally concerned expression from Daryl but not for the strangers. “I have to go back, see if I can help or something!” Y/N stated as she started to make her way toward the truck.

“Doll, that won’t be a smart decision” Merle planted his hands on his hips continuing the annoyed look on his face until it turned to confusion when his brother quickly caught up with her.

“You can’t go back”

“I have to! I took an oath” Y/N scrambled a bit, putting her hunting rifle in the bed of the truck dropping her pack on the floor to grab a clean scrub top. “I didn’t spend years in school to not save people’s lives——“

“Y/N, if this shit spread. The hospital ain’t safe and I can’t lose you”

His words caused her to freeze in her place before turning toward him with a much softer expression compared to her worry filled one.

“W-We can’t lose you…okay? If they didn’t figure the virus out, I don’t know what you could do”

“I wish I could do something…” Y/N felt the burning sensation of tears building in her eyes forcing her to look away.

Daryl stood for a moment wanting to pull her into his arms, but both were startled by Merle’s crazed excitement when he found something off the corpses body.

They’ll have to get used to this…new life

The Quarry

“Does it still hurt?” Y/N frowns gently dabbing the cut on Carol’s cheek with a wet rag. She pulled the rag away to wet it more with water from her canteen. “Is he really helping Shane? Or waiting for you back at your tent”

“Knowing Ed, he’s waiting back at the tent. I’m just…thankful Sophia wasn’t there” Carol frowns, flinching when Y/N went back to cleaning up the blood giving her apologies for the suddenness. “You understand…don’t you?”

“I don’t get what you mean…”

“You know…being with them at the start of all this…I doubt they were good company” Carol scoffs when they both heard Merle shouting like usual at Shane. If they weren’t labeled “typical rednecks” when they first joined this group, then they would’ve seen it was Shane’s fault for what Merle was yelling at him for.

“You’ve got them wrong.” Y/N scoffed to her words, looking over at them in what looks to be an argument. Watching Daryl try to de-escalate the situation from how intense Merle decided to make it. “Me wrong too…I’ve known them for years. I was their neighbor and while Merle did have his moments, they were both still nice to me. Hell…even there for me when I needed it” she frowns looking back to her bag to take out a bandage for Carol’s cheek and once it was placed, she stood to her feet. “Give them the benefit of the doubt instead of judging right away…”

With that she took her leave toward her tent that was next to the Dixons which were a camp away from camp because a few shared private concerns making them isolate. Y/N wasn’t about to leave them even if Merle did make the comment when they first joined this group.

“She’s more like them” is what he said

“Stupid fuckin’ pig” Merle scoffs returning to their little campsite taking a seat beside Y/N who was just as annoyed as he was but more on the melancholy side of things while his was filled with rage.

Concern only washed over Daryl when he noticed her expression but he didn’t even get a second to say anything before Merle went off.

“Y’know I bet yea that motherfucker only wants me to go on that trip just so something bad can happen and I end up a sicko”

“Wait, what trip?” Y/N quickly turned to Daryl knowing he will give a better explanation of everything while Merle only focused on what mattered to him.

“Shane, the fucking moron that tells us not to hunt at a certain hour so he could do who knows what in the woods—-wants me to join the girlies, the Chinese kid, and the other two to go into Atlanta for supplies”

“Well, he’s Korean first of all…”

“Doll like I give a fu—-CK” Merle shouted when Y/N elbowed him in the side. “They using me as a goddamn escort nobody gonna give a fuck if I meet my maker out there”

“We do” Y/N gestured to Daryl and herself. “Merle, you’re more of muscle along a few of the others from the main group. You sure he didn’t ask for yea to make sure the others are safe?”

“That’s exactly how he put it, Merle is just dramatic” Daryl sets his crossbow down beside him once he sat on the ground with them. “They’ll die without us”

“As much as people can adapt, Daryl has a point here. Shane will only lose game if he went shooting his shotgun at deers and squirrels” Y/N leaned back on her hands. “Hell, the squirrels will explode if he shot at them. They’ll need the both of y’all to bring back a lot of game to survive. Besides, you know Atlanta better than most. You can survive a few herds”

“You both are a bunch of bitches” Merle wasn’t serious when he stated such at least when it’s directed to those two, but he still didn’t like the idea of leaving with these people to Atlanta.

That when they returned with someone who wasn’t Merle, Y/N knew they were about to meet a whole world of hurt.

“Fuck no”

“Y/N—-“

“I could never get Daryl to calm down” They both know that was a lie, Y/N is honestly the only person that could calm him down. But what they both can agree on is they don’t know how he will react to the news.

“Bullshit. You’re gonna have to try somethin’ so he doesn’t fucking kill the man”

“But isn’t that what you wanted?” Y/N watched the color leave Shane’s face. “For this Rick guy to remain dead so you can lay your pipe in a place you shouldn’t be laying it”

His fists clench at either side of him trying his hardest not to strike, but Y/N had enough of keeping that shit to herself. She didn’t care for what happened next…for the most part

When Daryl returned to the camp in search for Merle, ignoring everyone’s questions while he came up empty on finding his brother within the camp. But the annoyance only grew when he couldn’t find his—-Y/N.

“Where’s—-“

“We left Merle. Well, I did.” Rick stated noticing the concern on Daryl’s face which led him to believe there was more to it and he instantly turned to Shane. All the man ever does was shrug but it quickly turned to pulling the youngest Dixon off his “brother”

His presence would normally bring joy in any mood she was in, but given the situation and what happened prior to Daryl finding out about his brother? Y/N was miserable and hiding something.

“You hear what those fucking sons of bitches did?! Leaving Merle chained up to a goddamn roof!” Daryl shouted, quickly stopping when he noticed Y/N flinch to his words. “Sorry—-Fuck, I’m just—-“

“Mad. Rightfully, mad” Y/N rasped, squeezing her eyes shut while she pressed her wet bandana to her cheek. “That Rick guy said he was going to go back to get his dumbass even after putting him up there.”

Daryl didn’t say anything right away as he steps around her to get a look at her front watching her duck her head. “Lori wasn’t too happy about it”

“Figured” Y/N frowns continuing to look at the ground watching his shadow grow bigger practically covering her and indicating he was knelt in front of her. Daryl gently removed what she was using as a rag to see what happened. “It’s superficial. Not like I’d have anything to do stitches anyway…you need to get Merle back”

He didn’t say a word all he did was nod while reaching for her pack to take out those butterfly bandages she has.

“Can I—-“

“Yeah”

The youngest Dixon didn’t push her on what happened, all they talked about after he saw was the plan to get Merle’s ass back to the camp. Even if it meant she couldn’t come with which infuriated her.

But that didn’t matter. The feeling useless part passed quickly when their camp was being washed through with a herd. Y/N always had her axe beside her and didn’t hesitate to start taking out sickos while most of the women protected their children. The only thing she’d want to protect wasn’t there. She didn’t need to worry too much.

Carol let out a scream when one got too close that lead Y/N to quickly swing her axe into its skull watching her quickly get away following Lori. Y/N pulled the axe out and didn’t know of the walker creeping up behind her until a gun shot both killed the walker and almost burst her ear drum. But she quickly turned toward who fired and saw Daryl, both having a relieved look that turned into focused quickly to finish off the walkers.

Once all the dead and undead were mourn or taken care of…the plan was to go to the CDC in hopes for something to help Jim when it was revealed he was bitten. But on the way, they stopped and left him as per his request.

The CDC

Y/N of course sat with Daryl in his truck with Merle’s bike strapped in the bed of it. Neither of them talked for most of the ride given they were worried, angry, and a bit upset…but not at each other. Daryl knows Y/N has her reasons for not telling him how the cut on her cheek happened but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. She on the other hand was infuriated and struggling to keep the tears at bay. Being a nurse and feeling useless was getting to her. That bastard leaving Merle was getting to her. That stupid bitch Shane was getting to her.

“You think Merle is fine?” Y/N questions while she watches the scenery go by the woods slowly disappearing. “What kind of son of a bitch cuts his own hand off? Doubt he even knows how to properly stop the bleeding…burning it isn’t the right way”

“Merle is a roach. He’ll turn up…eventually” Daryl frowns gripping onto the wheel tight as he continued to follow the RV. The truck ran over a walker causing it to jump and for Daryl to instantly force his arm in front of Y/N as she held onto it out of anxious habit with bumps.

“Never going to get used to that…maybe we should’ve just ditched the truck and taken the bike”

Daryl took note of that

When they got to the CDC, right away one assumed that it was empty and barren. Honestly who could blame the scientists for running from this mess? The government already decided more destructive solutions that didn’t work. But when the doors opened, everyone was on edge. Thankful, but on edge. Y/N was given the hunting shotgun Daryl he had back at camp to pair with the axe strapped to her back under her pack. She raised it instantly along with the others when the doctor stepped out to greet the survivors.

Dr. Jenner was his name and he happily let them in giving them the facility for the night. He of course had them get tested for anything which had Y/N feeling nostalgic and given her background, he asked for her help in a few ways before everyone decided to enjoy the luxuries that the place gave.

Booze. Booze was the start along with food.

Y/N only drank with Daryl and Merle, so she didn’t feel comfortable drinking as much as the others were during the dinner the doctor made for them. She kept an eye on Daryl given he was drinking til he couldn’t see straight anymore, he needed it after the Merle nonsense.

But every time he looked over at her, he smiled. In a way it was to make sure she was still there but there was so much more.

When the group started to turn in for the night, everyone stayed with who they were close with. But given how much Glenn drank, Rick and Shane suggested he’d stick with Y/N and Daryl. Mainly Y/N for she has the training in case he aspirated. Which nothing a good “having him sleep on his side” wouldn’t fix.

Daryl stumbles into the room squinting at the sight of Y/N helping Glenn lay down on his side before moving to the couch which would be her bed for the night. She made Glenn’s bed out of the back cushions of the other couch knowing Daryl was going to rip them off anyway. He came to the apartment drunk once and she’d let him crash, he did exactly that before passing out.

“Did you shower? In your state?”

“Nah. Got lost” Daryl scanned around the room quickly switching the light off.

Before Daryl even thought about going to the other couch and sleeping off the effects alcohol has on the body, he brought himself to sit on the floor leaning up against Y/N’s couch. He flinched slightly when she brought her hand to his forehead before easing into the smallest touch.

“Just the alcohol. No fever”

“Just checking” She said in a hushed tone before laying back on the couch keeping her eye on him watching his brows furrow contemplating on saying something or not. “You should get some sleep, bubs”

He felt the heat rise instantly in his face as he decided the couch was no longer an option and laid down right where he was. Y/N watched him get comfortable on the floor before grabbing a couch cushion and giving it to him to use as a pillow.

The night progressed and Daryl laid awake for the most part, thinking staying conscious would subside the feeling of liquor and the strange but familiar one lingering in his chest.

Just when most thought the next morning would be peaceful after some breakfast and much needed pain killers…it was revealed what the clock was on the wall. It was a countdown for total power loss and the last of it to destroy the CDC in a fiery explosion.

Leave or Die

Who would’ve thought that would be a hard decision to make while most panicked around her and once Jenner finally opened the doors for them. She froze in place and felt the tightness in her chest grow.

When Daryl watched the door open he immediately turned to his side half expecting her to be with him. But soon realized she stood by the panels with the doctor and those debating to stay or know for fact. He stood there waiting. Waiting for any sign.

Even if it was Y/N simply turning around to look at him with tears in her eyes. Daryl then acted without a thought by sprinting toward her and instantly picking her up before booking it for the main lobby of the CDC. Where the commotion involving a grenade was being conducted.

“Duck!” The sheriff yelled as everyone did exactly what he said, Daryl shielding Y/N when he crouched feeling her shift out of his arms but her arms remained around his neck holding him close.

They parted when the grenade explosion dissipated, but Daryl didn’t hesitate for a second to usher her out of the building before getting himself out.

The explosion of the CDC rattled the earth and those especially barely escaping it.

“Everybody alright?” Rick asks everyone getting a few yeses and more of annoyed groans after being shaken. “We have to get out of here. Before the herd comes”

“Help me get the bike off” Daryl gestured for Glenn to help as he went to do so. Y/N instantly bringing herself to the bed of the truck grabbing their gear before they took the bike off.

“Rick, siphon the gas from the truck and fill up your cars. Should hold us up for a while or at least until we find more cars”

As they were quick to scramble and move some of the gear from the truck to the RV, Y/N was about to move into one of the cars when Daryl gripped her shoulder gently.

“Ride with me, yeah?”

“I uhm. It’s been a while, Daryl…”

“Alright…Uhm. Don’t sit with Shane, least do that for me” The look he gave her when he said that, only told her that he knew. He knew who gave her that wound on her cheek.

Y/N instantly nods and goes to join Andrea, Glenn, and Dale in the RV while Daryl got situated on his bike leading the way back to the freeway. Hopefully they can find shelter elsewhere.

The Farm

“You and Daryl seem…close. Is there like more to that?” Glenn thought maybe since there wasn’t many in the RV, and especially Daryl, that he could ask things like that.

Y/N being more open to answer after spending more time with these people. “We’re close, but if you’re insinuating what I think you are then no…”

“Is that what you want?” Andrea cuts in, looking directly at Y/N from her spot in the passengers seat. “You want something more don’t you?”

“I-…Well, why would I if the other party doesn’t seem interested” Y/N stated, only for Dale to scoff with a laugh after. “What?”

“You would have to be blind as a bat to not notice how much that man cares for you. If you really wanna know? Try and talk to Shane. About anything.” Dale gave her a look through the rear view mirror before stopping in the freeway when his RV started to make noise. “Damn thing breaking on me at the wrong time”

When the RV stopped, everyone stopped.

Daryl brought his bike to the banks of the freeway watching the RV from his spot seeing Dale get out first along with Glenn. He was about to go in to check on—-

“Hey, this’ll be the perfect time to fuel up on some gas. Even check some of the cars for anything that will be useful.” Rick interrupted his thoughts, Daryl nodded to his words watching him go ahead of him before taking a quick glance at the RV finding Y/N stepping out with a look he couldn’t fully read.

“Hey, Y/N can you take a look at these meds I found?” Lori caught her attention instantly and the second she approached him, Daryl went ahead to investigate some of cars himself.

Then things turned for the worse and a herd started to come through the cars. Most hid underneath the closest car they were near and Dale got stuck on top of the RV…but the worst to happen was the cries of Sophia had attracted some of the walkers. Leading her to run away and the sheriff quickly went after her.

‘Sophia’ Carol whisper shouted as they couldn’t entirely leave when the herd was passing, they only started to get out of hiding and took out the stragglers.

Y/N quickly pulled herself out from under the car watching Carol quickly get out with Lori trying to stop her. She wanted so badly to chase after her daughter and the walkers but Rick’s got it. He’s going to save her…

“You didn’t find her?” Carol couldn’t hold back the sobs anymore, Lori laid a comforting hand on her back.

“They’ll find her or at least try their hardest” Y/N tells Carol with concern littered in her voice even if she only wanted the first part. “There’s still plenty of people in the world even after it ended. She could’ve ran into somebody that will help her get back to you…” she gave a sad smile before turning to Daryl watching him straighten up.

“We’ll find her. We’ll keep lookin’”

This is a mother’s worst nightmare Y/N thought as she organized the trunk of their findings before being pulled away to help T-Dog in terms of his injury.

Rick and Shane left a while ago with Carl to go search for Sophia which left the others splitting into searching themselves and staying at the RV. Y/N being with the RV group given she wanted to keep an eye on T-Dog’s injury but some part of her was screaming internally over this whole situation.

Sophia hid because Rick instructed her to do so but she ran. You would run if your life was about to be in the hand of walkers…

Now Rick, Shane, and Carl disappeared. What could’ve possible gone wrong?

“Are you okay?” Y/N frowns watching Andrea come into the trailer with a bit of annoyed but equally anxious look on her face.

“Yeah, but someone took Lori. Knew Carl and her name so we are gonna go to the place they are at” Andrea sat across from her at the little table noticing Y/N pinching her arm which some spots started to bruise.

As Andrea reached across the table to take her hand to get her to stop, ultimately holding it so she wouldn’t continue. Daryl flew the door open instantly locking eyes with Y/N before stepping away to get on his bike while Glenn and Dale flooded in.

The second the RV arrived on the farm, Rick ran out of the house toward it. He gently pushed Glenn and Andrea out of the way to get Y/N taking her hand dragging her toward the house.

“Where’s the fi—-“

“Carl’s been shot. The man of the house is a vet and is doing his best. Could use another set of—-“

“I’ve got it” Y/N didn’t need to hear more to understand the just of it. She was going to be told everything by Hershel, the head of the house, anyway.

Once Shane came with the right medical supplies, Hershel was relieved to have someone with full medical training to help him fix Carl’s injuries. But that didn’t stop him from discussing certain matters.

“If you don’t mind me asking…”

“Is it about this?” Y/N gave him a confused look keeping hold of the retractor while Patricia continuously squeezed the ambu bag that Shane managed to snag for Carl.

“No…these people you’re with…you trust their judgement?”

“Yeah, a little bit. I’m still trying to get used to the fact that one of them left my—-my best friend’s brother on a roof” Y/N picked up a piece of gauze to dab at the blood that spilled. “He wa—is a racist sexist son of a bitch so. Who could blame him”

Patricia fought back a laugh as Hershel rolled his eyes but was going to take her word for the first part. He can give some trust in these people.

“Listen, Hershel. I may have not been with these people for long…but they are good people. They mean well at the end of the day even with their flaws.” Y/N finished her thought before helping him finish with the closing.

After the operation, Y/N stepped out into the kitchen where Patricia instructed her to wash her hands in the sink. As she was doing so, Lori instantly went to her and without any words she gave her a smile and let Hershel explain how everything went smoothly.

Y/N stepped out realizing how late it was and how everyone set up their tents already. Part of her wished she still had her apartment and could simply crash without having to set anything up. But when she was about to head toward the RV to get her things, she noticed her tent set up and close to his.

Sweet… Y/N felt the twitch of a smile before entering her tent and laying on the floor for a moment.

Laying on the ground in a tent after a successful surgery was very different compared to laying on the kitchen floor with a half empty bag of chips and a bottle of Merlot. Felt nicer and worse in some way.

“Y/N?” Daryl whispers, just in case she was still asleep but when she opened the tent flap he relaxed a bit from the awkward feeling. “The kid alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll probably need another transfusion but we won’t know until he improves” Y/N sat in the way of the flap giving Daryl an unreadable look and all he wanted to know mostly was if she was alright after what she had to do. But decided to focus on different matters. “Did you need something, Dar?”

“Uh. No I just…I’m gonna look for Sophia in the mornin’. Wanna let yea know”

“Thank you…be safe and back before nightfall”

“I promise, sunshine” He gave a small nod shortly leaving after, letting Y/N get some sleep even when once the tent flap closed she felt the heat consume her face when he called her that.

But that small happiness faded when her anxiety started to eat at her the more the sunlight faded in the next day.

“You need to stop pacing. You’ve done laundry, you checked Carl’s incision site, you gave Maggie and Glenn a list of drugs to look for on their run, amongst other small tasks. Creating a ditch in the dirt just from pacing back and forth is only going to wear your shoes out and not make Daryl come back any fast” Andrea told Y/N while she got up on top of the RV to take watch.

“She’s got a point. You’re wearing yourself out over possibly nothing” Dale said while handing his rifle up to Andrea expecting her not having to use it. “He’s looking for signs of Sophia or her overall and will be back. He told you that much”

“Least you know what his intentions are. Most partners don’t realize their significant other is cheating on them because they beat around the bush when asked “where have you been”” Rick stepped out of the RV saying such which in response was a confused expression from Y/N. “He is your boyfriend is he not?”

“No! We aren’t together at all…”

“Hm. Odd”

“How so?”

“I had to pull off a very angry drunk Daryl off of Shane the night we spent at the CDC. Threatened to kill him if he ever laid a hand on yea again” Rick shrugged. “That’s when I thought y’all were somethin’ more.”

Andrea laughed at the situation, earning an annoyed groan from Y/N as she turned to Dale about to question if he knew about that incident when her friend’s tone shifted.

“WALKER” Andrea shouted rising from the lawn chair. “Walker!”

“Just the one?” Rick question without a confirmation on the number but he couldn’t focus on that anymore when Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog started to make their way over to said walker. “Hold up. Hershel wants to handle the walkers”

“We’ve got it” Shane assured continuing on his way while Andrea had the brilliant idea that she can take out the walker with the rifle she has and the sun in her eyes.

Dale kept trying to tell her not to take the shot. Maybe because they were heading their way toward the “walker” and she couldn’t accidentally hit the living.

But she did that. To the walker that was actually an injured Daryl.

When he dropped, the ounce of joy Andrea felt immediately faded when all three by the RV heard the shouts of no!

Y/N quickly made her way over to the shouting and noticed the limp hunter in between Rick and Shane that she started to feel that itchy feeling that came with anger. She gripped the tank top she was in, quickly turning around and heading straight for her tent to get her scrub top before making it to the house the second Hershel was informed.

Regardless of the minor protests of having her patch Daryl up, even from the man himself, Y/N was persistent and pissed.

When the adrenaline wore off, Daryl passed out but thankfully his wounds were taken care of and he was left alone. Not entirely though. Y/N sat on the window bench watching the rise and fall of his chest every now and then. But for the most part she kept her focus on her hands and how much blood stained her skin. Especially her nails.

Just the thought and fact of it being his blood resulted in her curling up on herself and sobbing ever so softly.

The time Carol came in and told him how grateful she was that he still went out of his way to go search for Sophia, Daryl noticed Y/N’s sleeping form in the window but especially the redness slightly above her cheeks.

“She’s been here the whole time. She does a good stitch job from what Hershel says” Carol whispers with a small laugh at the end of her sentence. “Get some rest, Dixon”

Y/N woke to the sound of struggling and a few curses. Daryl thought he could go unnoticed given their group was asleep in their tents and so was the family that owned the house but the light sleeper that was his—Y/N woke up.

“Stop starin’ and give me a hand”

“You deserve to rest in a bed, Daryl…” Y/N frowns getting up from her spot and approaching him but before he could protest, she helped him stand to his feet. “Least let me help you to your tent”

Daryl nodded, letting Y/N wrap one of his arms around her shoulders before getting out of the house. She made him take it slow and practically at her pace given it was what she wanted him to go at.

The silence was killing him that when they finally reached his tent and Y/N was about to part from him, he gently grabbed her wrist pulling her back.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You haven’t talked. Not a long walk but still. You just…haven’t”

Y/N stared at him. Stared into those deep blue eyes that bore into her soul for an answer which only let the damn break loose.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” The wobble in her voice shook him in his core. “Seeing you…in the state that you were in…yeah, you made it…but a little over and you wouldn’t be here and I would’ve lost you” she felt a few tears slip, pulling herself away enough so that she could hold his hand. “You mean…so much to me, Daryl Dixon.”

The staring from said Dixon only continued and that couldn’t help the thought of crossing a line to flood Y/N’s mind. But before she could even think to pull away and head to her tent, Daryl pulled her in and pressed his lips firmly against hers…

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #I said 3 parts but there might be one or two more #longest request but yeah

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hanniesbrat · 3 months ago

Text

drunk in love | yjh (teaser)

full fic is uploaded!!!

NSFW | MDNI !!

pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

genre: friends -> fwb -> lovers, angst, smut, fluff

cw: drinking, angry jeonghan bc i said so, jealousy, exhibitionism pretty much, spanking, degradation (he calls you a “slut” and “whore” a couple times :3), unprotected sex, creampie, choking, cucking (poor josh but also he had it coming), pet names (“pretty girl”, “baby”, and “princess”), oral (f rec), little bit of butt stuff, possessive jeonghan, possessive jeonghan, and possessive jeonghan.

synopsis: when a game of truth, dare, or drink with the boys turns to shit (thanks to hoshi, but also josh), jeonghan has no choice but to prove himself to be the best dick you’ve ever had ): (SPOILER: he is. oh he most DEFINITELY is the best dick you’ve ever had)

! nsfw content below the cut. mdni !

“awww don’t be a pussy, jihoon!” jeonghan taunted him. he was leaning backward due to you being sandwiched between the two boys at the table, jihoon to your left, jeonghan to your right.

“nah i’m not touching her, hannie. you’re funny” jihoon chuckled, throwing back the clear liquid.

“heyyyy rude!” you pouted, crossing your arms playfully, a smile threatening to pull at your mouth.

“tsss…” jihoon put down the shot glass. “jeonghan would kill me, y/n” he chuckled. then, “ow!” he yelled, still laughing.

you whipped your head to jeonghan who was… glaring at jihoon? he’d smacked him upside the head and you had no idea why. you thought jihoon making that comment was just to poke fun at the fact that everyone knew you and jeonghan were basically fuck buddies. however, jeonghan didn’t find it very funny for whatever reason. you playfully pushed his face telling him to lighten up. to that he faintly smiled before putting his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers together in front of his face. he looked like a cartoon villain. what was he so upset about?

“anyways…” you were the next to talk. “soonyoung! your turn!” you enthused leaning back in your seat to look at the boy to the right of jeonghan.

soonyoung jumped out of his seat before nearly screaming, “Y/N!”

“oh fuck.” jihoon mumbled looking into his lap. you broke eye contact with soonyoung to look at him in confusion.

“i’m so sorry to do this.” you looked back up at soonyoung. what the fuck is going on?

“man i swear, if you don’t keep your mouth shut,” jihoon stood up from his chair.

“what? i have to ask!”

“no, no you don’t.” jihoon’s voice was threateningly low, and you now thought you had a hunch as to what’s about to happen. your heart started to race.

“is it true that you and hoon hooked up at last year’s halloween party?!”

“i’m gonna beat your fucking ass-“

you pushed your chair out blocking jihoon’s path before he could follow through. you shot your arm out for good measure to make sure he didn’t try to pass you. he silently turned around and sat back in his chair.

when you turned back around to face soonyoung, you couldn’t help but feel jeonghan’s eyes burning holes into you along with everyone else’s.

“dude, why?” you asked in a low tone.

“whaaaat the game was getting boring! i had to spice things up a bit,” he teased putting a hand on his hip before pointing his finger in your face over jeonghan’s head. “now answer the question or take a shot missy. either way, we’ll know the answer.”

you glared at him intensely sitting back down in your chair and quietly saying “it’s true,” before reaching for the shot in front of you and slamming it anyways. you needed it. you felt jeonghan’s eyes on the side of your face and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. you just locked eyes with mingyu across the table, knowing that even with his shock, his gaze would comfort you nonetheless. it worked. his face quickly went from a “what the fuck?” expression to a reassuring “we’ll talk about this later” look.

“ahem”

no.

“that’s interesting,” josh said from the head of the table.

“josh!” you, seungcheol and mingyu yelled at the same time. they also knew what joshua had to have been thinking, and didn’t want you to endure more embarrassment.

“ i thought i was your only little secret,” he said in a condescending tone, crossing his arms.

your face was hot. “it happened years ago josh!” you were yelling from your seat. “and we haven’t talked about it since! why are you even bringing it up? who cares!”

SLAM! you flinched. jeonghan had punched the table.

“i fucking do!” he yelled shooting up from his chair. “while we’re here,” his voice dropped, placing his palms on the table, leaning forward glancing at everyone. “would anyone else like to confess to fucking y/n?”

*✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ*¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ*¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ•.¸¸.•✼*

a/n: thank you to my bestie, bug (@goblynnrockz), my hoshi bestie (@iluvhoshi), and my fellow jeonghan enthusiast, my wife, nabi (@jenoslutie) for helping read over everything to make sure it's as perfect as possible. also helping literally writing some parts LOL <3

#jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan x reader #seventeen angst #svt smut #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt angst

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oncasette · 1 year ago

Note

FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

how about... "you shouldn't have touched them. every single mark on their body is going to be returned to yours." wiiith our mans eric northman!

please, thank you, love youuu!!! 🩵🩵

𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟 ��𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞

eric northman x fem!reader

summary: 1.3k

You’d had vampire blood. Pam and Chow had been gracious enough to offer you their wrists months after you’d started working at Fangtasia, a safety precaution as they’d claimed. You'd had Eric's blood. He could feel your fear, he knew where you were, why wasn't he coming?

or the one where eric saves you from an anti-vampire rights enthusiast.

warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, death, kidnapping, stabbing

a/n: i know i said drabbles but i couldn't contain myself. i am violently ill with my love for this man.

masterlist | taglist

You think you're dying. surely. There's no way the human body would be able to endure this much pain without ultimately giving up the ghost, right?

You never should have gotten involved with vampires. They were nothing but a bucket of trouble, as your mother would have put it. And has she had put it, a multitude of times, before she'd ever even known you'd applied to work at Shreveport's resident vampire bar.

What she didn't know, though, was how incredible they could be. How, even without all their supernatural abilities, intensely good they could be when they decided they wanted. How loyal and caring and kind when they chose to do so. Just how beautiful they could be, fangs and all.

‘Course, there still was that whole bucket of trouble thing.

"You sure are pretty for a fangbanger," your captor drawled from where he was watching you from across the room. He'd tied you to a chair at the center of it, thick scratchy ropes binding your wrists to the unlaquered wood beneath you. You spit, knowing that it won't reach the man from this distance, but hoping, almost willing it to hit him squarely between the eyes.

“Fuck you,” you say.

“Ooh,” he whistles. “You’ve sure got a mouth on you, sweet cheeks. Why waste it on one of those dead fuckers when you could have someone with an actual, bleeding fucking heart?”

“You’re a waste of skin, you piece of shit,” you huff. Not that it was any of his goddamn business, anyway, but you had only ever slept with one man, and it sure as shit hadn’t been one of your bosses.

“Aw, c’mon. I bet you get so cold after one of them vampers is inside you, don’t you. All icy and chilly like. Let me give you a little tip, sweetheart. Humans. Need. Warmth.”

“You say that as if you aren’t a fucking sad sack,” you say. “What a sorry excuse for a human, huh?”

“What’d they do to you, huh, girl? Did they glamor you into only wanting a dead man’s dick?” he asks, slowly shifting and standing from his stool so that he could approach you. Despite their constant–and half-hearted–threats, you’d never been glamored by your vampire coworkers. Your breathing shakes as he approaches in swift steps. It’s then that you see the knife in his hand.

For the first time in a long time, you realize, genuine fear strikes through you.

“I’m gonna teach those vampers a lesson,” he says. “And you’re going to help me do that.”

The knife trails along your collarbone. You're glad it was as dull as it was, knowing if it'd been sharper it would be slicing the skin open in its path down. Then he presses down harder. You can’t muffle the whine as it escapes you, no matter how much you want to. No matter how desperately you wish to not show the man that he holds any power over you. You can feel the blood seeping out of the wound. It dribbles down your chest in a thick stream as it pools and stains the gray cotton of your t-shirt.

“Stop!” you plead. He chuckles before driving the blade deeper into you. With feeble force, you try to get him off with a stunted kick to his knee; It was all you could manage with the way your knees had been duct-taped together.

“Bitch!” he heaves before rearing back to slap you with the bladeless hand. It slashes your cheek, shallowly, thankfully, but you can feel the ache of where his hand had connected with your cheekbone. “You’re gonna regret that.”

He takes the knife and stabs it into your side, just narrowly missing your ribcage.

Before you can manage out even a wince, the door to the small shack you’d been held in for the last few hours splinters and it unceremoniously removed from its hinges.

Eric says nothing as he rushes in. You barely register that it’s him save for the split second image you’d captured from where he’d lingered in the doorway. Your captor is off of you instantly, though you’re still bound to the chair. Eric stills. Wind warps around him as he does so, wrapping him in a flurry of movement as he stands with the man locked in his grasp.

“You never should have fucking touched her,” Eric growls with his fangs fully extended, grip tightening around the burly man’s neck and raising him inches off the ground. There’s not even a hint of the usual smirk you were so accustomed to seeing. “Every single mark on her body will be returned unto you tenfold.”

“She fucking deserved it,” he gargles as the vampire latches onto the expanse of neck not currently held within his hand. The man screams out in anguish and you pull your eyes tight to avoid watching any more. Of course, that doesn’t stop you from hearing. The screams and the rips and the crunches. You hear something hard and solid hit the floor and somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach you know it’s bone.

You hear the man gasp out a dead fuck only for Eric’s grasp to tighten fully, effectively severing the man’s skull from his spinal chord without detaching it from his body. The man drops to the floor with a loud thump and Eric shoves the corpse away with the toe of his shoe before he moves toward you.

“What took you so long?” you exhaled as he moved behind you to unbind your wrists.

“I was away on business,” he gruffs, spitting slightly to get the last of the man’s blood out of his mouth. He’d already drunk his fair share, you thought, what good what that do?

Swallowing, you ask, “And you still came?”

He walks back around to begin undoing the restraints on your legs. He’s being so gentle, you realize. If he’d wanted, he could have had this done within seconds and yet, here he was, tenderly undoing the tape and rope and rubbing a soothing hand over the abraded skin.

“I’ll always come for you,” he says. “Until I meet the true death, I will always come for you.”

He extends his wrist up to his mouth and you wince as he punctures the flesh.

“Eric,” you sigh.

“Drink,” he says.

Nodding, you allow him to bring his wrist to your mouth and latch down on the leaking wound. It’s tangy and metallic and overall pretty gross, but you’re more than grateful for it at that moment. You lick your lips when he pulls his arm back down, the small bite marks already well on their way to closing completely.

“Will you take me home?” you ask, suddenly overwhelmed with the wave of fatigue hitting you.

He rises back to his full height and extends a hand out towards you. The second you grab it, he’s pulling you up from your chair to hold you flush against his form. Then, in another rush of wind, you’re standing on your front porch.

Slowly, you pull away from the vampire to take a step towards your door. Your body aches, but it’s already mostly healed as you run a hand over the small incision at your waist.

“Thank you,” you say. “Eric.”

He’s silent, looking you over in a way that you can’t help but think is more than just an assessment of your injuries. He settles on your eyes when he says, “Anytime.”

#eric northman #eric northman x reader #true blood #true blood imagine #alexander skarsgard #alexander skarsgard x reader #r's 3k

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obx-pogue4life · 2 years ago

Text

The Right Path For Us

Summary: Rafe just wants to be able to feel his girl without anything between them and that need turns into a conversation which leads y/n and Rafe to realize they just might finally be ready to start a family together

Warnings: Fluffy smut. Slight breeding kink, begging, swearing, kissing, slight dirty talk, mentions of sex, pregnancy and marriage

"Please baby? Let me feel all of you without a condom," my boyfriend Rafe begged. "I need to feel you against my cock. Don't you want to feel me without that barrier in between us? Don't you want to feel my hot cum shoot into you, painting your insides with my seed?

"What I want Rafe, is to not get pregnant by my idiot boyfriend who thinks it's ok to just unload in me freestyle because he wants to feel all of me," I say to him sternly. I'm gonna stick with no.

"Awww come on y/n, what's the worst thing that could happen? You get pregnant? So fucking what! Who cares if I knock you up! You don't want that? Please...I know you. You'd love it if I put a baby in that belly of yours. You'd love carrying around a little Cameron and have everyone know that you belong to me.

I start to blush and Rafe gives me that shit eating grin of his, knowing that what he said is right on the money. "I fucking knew it," he brags.

"OK fine, but just because you technically may not be wrong does not mean I am ready- actually scratch that, that WE are ready for a baby Rafe.

"Pffffftttt," he says looking directly at me. He takes my hand and laces our fingers and leads us to the couch. I follow him but am a little surprised at his sudden silence. We both sit down, him still holding my hand and sit a minute in silence. "Do you know how much I love you, y/n?," he quietly asks, turning to face me.

I mimic his turn on the couch and notice how serious he is. "Of course I do Rafe. I love you just as much, with all my heart," you answer him, grabbing for his other hand. I put it directly over my heart and place my hand over his. "Forever," I say softly. Rafe's face lights up immediately and he moves our hands from my chest to his, repeating the word that means so much to him.

"Forever," he says to me. "I would love nothing more than to start a family with you y/n."

"I'm barely 20 years old," I say desperately trying to come up with reasons to tell this gorgeous man in front of me as to why we should not have a baby right now.

"Well that's a shit reason," he says chuckling. "Just because we're young doesn't mean we aren't ready. We are plenty mature and have plenty of money. NEXT," he says confidently.

"Well...we aren't married, we aren't even engag-," he cut you off with a wave of his hand.

"That is 100% your own doing y/n and you know it. If I had my way, we would have been married a long time ago.

"If you had your way, we would have been married in high school and we might not have made it here because you know perfectly well that it would have been really hard to make an actual marriage work when we still have to worry about getting to homeroom on time and submitting book reports," I say as calmly as I can muster.

We have had this talk many times over the past several years of dating and we both agreed to hold off until I was finished with college and Rafe played a bigger part in his dad's company. I know that him just being a Cameron alone would support us well beyond our means, that is always a big part of our arguments, but it's very important to me to know that we can make it on our own and support ourselves by having real jobs and skills to fall back on just incase we ever needed them. I also wanted to make damn well sure that Rafe knows I loved him despite his money, not because of it and this was a clear way for me to prove that to him; not that he ever questioned it but I never want to give him a reason to. With a family like the Cameron's, there comes a lot of underlying responsibility and a lot of obligations and I never felt ready for all of that, no matter how much I loved Rafe. Well...until now, that is.

"I still think we would have been fine but that was then y/n," he presses. "What about now?"

"Are you actually being serious right now," you say slowly, thinking.

"Serious as a heart attack baby," he states coolly.

"Please baby? You know I will always take care of you and you know how much I love you. It's only a matter of time before you're a Cameron anyway," he smirks at you, leaning in for a kiss. I sigh into his mouth, knowing he's right and struggle to come up with any real reasons why not to at least try to start a family. It probably wouldn't happen right away anyway and I know how much having his own family means to him. I also know he will always make good on his promise to take care of me and to love me. So maybe now could be the right time?

"So I'm not saying yes but-," THERE'S A BUT!, he interrupts.

"Oh my gosh, eager much," I tease him, poking him in the ribs and smiling. "I'm not saying yes but if I were to agree to this, I want to hear you tell me that this just isn't just about sex. I need to hear you without you trying to put the moves on me that you really want this as much as you say you do Rafe because so so help me god, if you're lying to me just to get me to let you fuck me without a condom-," BABY he interrupts again.

"You know me better than that. I would never trick you like that! What kind of a jerky bastard do you think I am?!," he feigns in mock rage.

"I know that," you sigh apologetic. "This is just a huge step for us and I just really need to make sure we both want this for the same reasons."

"We?," he questions, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

"Yes, we," I say to him, smiling back happily.

"You know how badly I want you and to start a family together," he says taking his arms and draping them around my neck. I might have started out like a little bit of a jerk earlier but it's just because I love you so much and my need for you clouds my mind sometimes. And I know that sounds like a line but you know in your heart that I mean every word of it. The pleasure we'd feel would just be an added bonus y/n," he smirks at me.

"Is that so?" I say egging him on.

"Oh baby," he says raspily, his eyes filling with lust. "You have no idea how good it's gonna be."

I feel myself gulp as my eyes widen from his confidently naughty confession. My breathing gets a bit faster and Rafe immediately notices my body stiffen in front of him.

"What are you thinking, y/n," he asks me, resting his head against my forehead.

"That I want you," I immediately say and then blush. I can feel Rafe's eyelashes fluttering against my face and the way his breath begins to pick up. He presses his lips to mine in a sweet kiss and I can feel the smile on his face. After a minute he pulls away to look at me.

"What else do you want?," he asks me, his tone desperate to hear my words of affirmation.

"I really want to start a family with you," I tell him earnestly. I always have. I just wasn't sure we were ready for it until...," I look at him as the realization washes over me. "Well... until this exact moment. It just feels so right. The more I hear you talk about it, the more it just makes such perfect sense."

Before I could barely finish my thought his lips were on mine in a fevered panic, needy and wanting, as if he hadn't kissed me in ages. Between breaths he paused only to say how much he loves me and how happy I make him, confirming to me that this was absolutely the right path for us. As he lay me down on the couch, his body is pressed flush against mine as he puts my hands over my head and clutches my wrists. I sigh in complete content as he kisses my neck and I let my eyes close allowing that familiar feeling to start bubbling up inside me.

"Raaaaffeee," I moan out, letting him know how good he's making me feel.

"I know baby," he says in between biting and sucking on my delicate skin. He moves to my mouth and gives me a long, sweet kiss. His tongue melds with mine so perfectly, it makes me wonderfully dizzy and all I can think about is how in love I am with him. When he stops kissing me and pulls away it takes me a second to come back to earth. I open my eyes and find him smiling, staring at me and his necklace dangling right in front of my nose. I playfully grab the chain gently and he leans in and kisses me sweetly on the nose.

"What?," I say giggling. He's still looking at me with that goofy grin on his face and he once again makes me blush.

"Now," he says with a twinkle in his eye. "I just have to get you to agree to marry me."

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