#moving on. I worked on this drawing for a few days and I'M FINALLY DONE. I'M FREEEE

[daddy-issues-99]

Venom x Reader Smut

In my last poll y'all voted for a Venom fanfic and I got the message 😏

Plot: you want to shower but feel uncomfortable with Venom watching you and iykyk

Afab reader, shower sex, size kink, biting, blood, fingering, praise, a little degration, aftercare

The last few days had been pure hell. Nothing but conflict and a new roommate.

You sat curled up on your couch, knees held tight to your chest. You were so tired. You had been on alert for what seemed like days. All you wanted to do was shower and go to bed.

If only it were that simple. Everything you did was met with a deep voice inside your head. Every action, statement, movement; everything.

No way were you gonna try and shower with this thing looking at you and commenting on your every move.

You let out a sigh. You were so tired you didn't even care anymore. "Where are you going?"

"I'm talking a shower." "Finally, your thoughts were becoming annoying." This was gonna be a nightmare. You walked to the bathroom slowly discarding your clothes as you went leaving you just in your bra and panties when you got to the bathroom.

"You are a nice shape. I would rip you apart." He said as you turned on the shower. "You are such a fucking perv." You moved your hands to the hem of your panties wanting to take them off only to stand their blushing. You felt so exposed.

"Well?" He asked wondering why you just stood there. "You're making me nervous. This is to embarrassing." You said bringing your hands to cover your face.

As soon as your hands left your sides two black tendrils quickly pulled your underwear down. Before you could even react he had done the same to your bra, throwing them to the side.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You yelled trying to cover your exposed figure.

"I am in your head. I am apart of you. I have already seen every part of your body." You just stood there baffled. "Don't be embarrassed, your look lovely. Go on, I won't judge darling."

You blushed at the comment. His voice made it even harder to remain neutral.

You carefully stepped into the shower and closed the door behind you. You let out an instant sigh of relief the minute the hot water made contact with your skin.

"You are relaxed." He stated in a matter of fact tone. "This is the most relaxed I've felt in days." You said rinsing shampoo out of your hair. "Why? You have no reason to be stressed." "I'm stressed because of you jackass!" You yelled with sarcasm in your voice.

In an instant you were pinned up against the shower wall as black tendrils fell into the floor forming a large figure with large teeth and bright white eyes. Small tendrils keeping the two of you conneced. His hand quickly went to your throat making sure you couldn't move.

"How dare you. I have given you an amazing opportunity and you insult me. You don't deserve my partnership." He said tightening his grip around your throat causing you to hold your thighs together.

He slowly looked down to see your thighs held tightly together. His face contorted into a wide smile. "Something you find amusing pet?" He asked squeezing your throat causing you to let out a small moan.

"Such a pathetic thing. Can't even answer a question." "I-Im not pathetic." You said trying to talk with his hand squeeze your airway. "Oh really? You say you hate me and yet your arousal is showing my darling." "I'm- I'm not-" "You can't hide how you truly feel. I'm a part of you. I can feel every sensation you do. Every thought that goes througg your head I see. Now tell me my darling, what do you want?"

"You."

"Good girl."

Venom leaned down to your neck leaving a trail of small bite marks just enough so it would draw blood which he happily licked up with his long tounge.

"This is going to hurt." He said before opening his jaw as wide as possible and biting your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your flesh. You screamed only for his free hand to quickly cover your mouth.

He licked up the blood and leaned back to see his work. "This mark will forever symbolize that You. Are. Mine. Do you understand?" You quickly nodded you head as a tear ran down your cheek. "Good."

With that the remaining tendrils still attached to your body quickly healed the bite leaving only the scars from his teeth.

"Please" "Please what?" He asked towering over you once more "Please touch me!" You whined.

"So desperate. I think you'll like this." With that he directed your head down to where his tendrils formed into a large cock. Your eyes widened in shock. "V, how is that gonna fit?"

"We'll just need a little extra help." His hand moved down to your clit rubbing slow painful circles. You head fell into his chest as you let out breathy moans.

"Look at you, so desperate for me. Pathetic." He let out a low laugh continuing his assault on your clit. "I-Im not-" You cried out and buried your head back in his chest, gripping his shoulders as he quickly inserted one of his large fingers inside you.

"You were saying?" He said contorting his face into a smirk. "Mm fuck you." "Oh I intend to. Or shall I stop?" He said as he began to pull away from you. "No! I-I'm sorry just please touch me!" "As you wish."

He continued his pace as he added another finger. Every thrust was pure bliss and you could feel your orgasm building. "Cum for me pet." Venom quickened his pace hitting your cervix with the tips of his fingers. You cringed thinking what his cock would do.

The knot in your stomach finally came undone with Venom thrusting in and out of you as fast as he could letting you ride out your high.

You opened your mouth letting out a loud moan only to be silenced when a long tounge filled your mouth,going down your throat giving you a makeshift kiss triggering your gag reflex.

"You did wonderful my pet. " Venom pulled his fingers out bringing his hand down to his cock. He rubbed your juices on his cock as a makeshift lube to try to prevent as much pain as possible.

Venom listed you by your waist as you quickly wrapped your legs around his torso holding yourself close to him. He pushed you back up against the shower aligning his cock between your folds rubbing the tip at your entrance.

You let out a whimper. "Don't worry. You will be okay. If it's to much you can bite down on my shoulder." With that he slowly began to lower you down onto his cock. You screamed instantly biting down onto his shoulder trying to silence your screams. Venom didn't even respond.

He stopped when you had taken in as much as you could, still leaving some of his cock exposed. "Your so tight. Smaller than I thought." You didn't respond. Venom pressed you harder up against the wall and brought a hand up to brush through your hair. "You will be okay my darling."

He intertwined his hand in your hair slowly pulling your head back to look up at him. A tear ran down your cheek which he gently brushed off with his thumb. "Don't worry. If you need me to stop I will." He brought his forehead to rest against yours as you adjusted to his size.

After a moment you gave a small nod indicating that he could move. His thrusts were slow, only moving a few inches. At first it was painful but after a while it became pleasurable. You whined and buried your have in the crook of his neck.

He continued his thrusts slowly quickening his pace pushing himself as far in as he could. You quickly became a moaning mess, whispering curses of pleasure.

"Look at you. So needy, so pathetic. I love it." He roughly thrusted into you. "Say it." He said, his teeth gritted. "I'm pathetic! I'm nothing I'm pathetic!"

"Good girl." You buried your face in his neck, hiding the blush covering your face.

Venom continued his thrusts all concerns of being gentle thrown out the window. This was pure lust. Rough, sloppy thrusts. Every one hitting your sweet spot. You rolled your hips forward giving your clit more friction.

"V, I'm close." "Cum for me, cum on my cock. Prove I'm the only being who could ever bring you this much pleasure." Your gripped his shoulders as he quickened his thrusts, holding onto your hips tight enough to leave a bruise.

The knot in your stomach came undone. You screamed in pure pleasure as Venom continued his pace allowing you to ride out your high. Venom soon followed coating your walls with ropes of cum.

Venom pulled out of you setting you back down on your feet. You fell limp and Venom quickly wrapped his arms around you as you rested your head against his chest.

Venom shifted you so the shower watter was hitting your back. He grabbed the washcloth and some soap and began to gently wipe away the thin layer of sweat that had formed. He continued cleaning you off making sure to get every part of you and carefully rinced you off.

He turned off the focet and picked you up bridal style resting you on your sink. He grabbed a towel and wrapped in around you drying you off. He wrapped the towel around you and grabbed a hairbrush, slowly brushing your hair sending shivers down your spine.

You rested your head against his chest lazily trying to keep you eyes open. Venom gently caressed your hair whispering sweet nothings.

He picked you up, holding you close to his chest as you absentmindedly played with the hem of the towel. He gently placed you down on the bed giving you one final kiss as he slowly absorbed back into your body.

"I love you V." "I love you to my darling." With that a tendil quickly formed from your hip and pulled the blanket over you as you drifted off to sleep.

#marvel #venom is hot #smut #venom fic #venom fanfiction #venom x reader #venom x yn #venom #venom smut #venom x you #symbiote #marvel smut

[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

#the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader

[bedoballoons]

this idea has been in my head for so long LMAO but could i request top! lyney x bottom! reader where the reader was initially helping lyney with his makeup but lyney got wayy to riled up by reader being on his lap so they ended up fucking against his vanity

hope you have a good day (and get lots of sleep) 🩷🩷

Oooooo I'm glad it's finally out of your head because it definitely deserves to be written!! Also thank you!! I hope you have a good day as well and that you enjoy~

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~To much to handle~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Top Lyney! and bottom gn reader! Lyney calls the reader mon amour!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

"Lyney stop moving, I'm almost done, just gotta do a bit more red." You shifted slightly on his lap, angling yourself better so you could touch up the tear shape on his cheek, completely unaware he was struggling desperately to keep thoughts of you in other positions at bay....the idea of you riding him right now, behind the stage where anyone could see...and the image of his cock so deep in you all you could do was scream for him with that goregous voice of yours while his pace got faster and faster, "Oh-oh my.., could you perhaps move a little faster mon amour?"

"I'm almost done, calm downnn...um...uh...heh, Lyney?" A blush crawled onto your cheeks, your body heating up at the feeling of his growing bulge brushing the inner skin between your plush thighs, only a few thin layers of clothing away from your warmth that called to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I just...just...kiss me~" You gasped as he pulled the front of your shirt roughly, drawing your face close to his so his lips could meet yours in a lustful kiss, his tongue forced into your hot mouth, exploring every inch of it hungrily while you moaned against him, his free hand wandering down your body like he'd never touched you before now.

He groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking upwards in a attempt to get friction, but he was to desperate, he needed more. He maneuvered you skillfully, standing up with you in his arms and somehow never breaking the kiss as he carried you to his vanity. His lips left yours for a moment, leaving you gasping for air while he bent you over the daintily decorated furniture and grinding his clothed cock against your ass, ripping a moan from you.

"Mon amour, I just c-cant help it. You do things to me, even when you're just sitting there my mind always wanders~" He whispered his words against the sensitive skin of your neck, his bright purple eyes watching in delight as it sent shivers rolling down your spine, your body pushing back against him needily, you were now just as desperate as he was and he simply couldn't wait to get started.

His hands went to work on your clothes, tossing everything aside that could impede him, before making his way to his own, his dick throbbing almost painfully beside your entrance the second it was released from its cloth confinements. "M-may I?" He licked his lips excitedly, waiting for your response like it could decide his very destiny.

"P-please Lyney~"

He groaned happily, rubbing his tip against your hole just to hear the whiney moan you'd let out and then slowly sliding his whole length inside, your legs instantly turning to jelly beneath you, "S-so tight, oh mon amour you're so tight around me~" You clenched around him tighter, earning a struggled gasp that played in your mind like your favourite song, "M-move nghh~"

"As you wish~" He pulled out almost all the way, his cock already wet with your love and his, the sight only added to the fire inside of him, his body suddenly thrusting into you, his pace growing faster and faster until nothing but sinful noises filled the room, your head thrown back while you sung out his name for all to hear. "Lyne-y!! Ahh-ngh!!! M-more!~"

He followed your command, his dick hitting your insides even harsher and faster, you had no thoughts, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he fucked you senselessly into his vanity, you were seeing nothing but stars~

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin smut #lyney smut #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin x you #lyney x reader #lyney genshin #lyney x you #lyneyhcs #lyney headcanons #lyney

[tervaneula]

u said leoichi drabble prompt request. consider. one injured and the other protecting them and then the injured one has to calm them down bc 'they're okay, really, promise, rest now'

OKAY SO this fused with a ghost of an idea I've had for a while and it ended up being a bit more serious than the prompt called for and a lot longer than just a drabble. (It's ~1120 words.) CW: blood and injury

Also I made a silly header thing I don't know what to do with, so I'm putting it here since this fic doesn't come with art of its own :'3

“Yui, I’m okay–” 

The rabbit turns his head to look at him, furious. 

“I heard your shell crack, Leonardo, and I'm not an idiot! Now stay down and let me handle this!” 

He falls quiet for a moment before redirecting his glare towards their adversary and then adds a muted, “Please.” 

There's no compromising with Yuichi in this state, apparently, and Leonardo stays right where he got crushed between metal claws and the concrete, splayed on the ground next to those very same claws which had gotten swiftly cut from the wrist for their transgressions.

He does roll onto his side to get his body weight off his shell, and yeah, alright, one or more of the old cracks that never healed properly must have split open again. It's tough to breathe and his back feels… His kimono is sticking to his shell and his back feels wet now that he's paying attention, and that. That is not good. 

Just his luck to run into a massive mecha wreaking havoc on an otherwise lovely day, huh. He wasn't even supposed to be on patrol and thus is embarrassingly swordless. 

Good thing that his date and their resident samurai always carries his. 

The slider watches as Yuichi does quick work of the metal hunk's wiring behind its knees, his frighteningly sharp katana slicing through the cables like butter. The mech falls with a ground-shaking rumble, unable to rise again, arm flailing as it tries to catch the rabbit. It's no use, Yuichi is much smaller and faster – and as soon as he reaches the mech's head, it's already rolling. The construct immediately loses power and Yuichi wrenches the windowed hatch in its chest open. Turns out there's no pilot, just a program-operated dashboard, and he makes sure that none of the controls are functional after he's done with them. 

Leonardo thinks he could watch Yuichi trash villains all day long, he's practically mesmerised by the strength hidden in that soft frame despite his shell throbbing unpleasantly in tandem with his heartbeat. He sighs, lovestruck. 

As his final move, Yuichi thrusts his katana into the heart of the mecha and Leonardo sees a spray of ink-black oil splash all over Yuichi's face and the front of his kimono. It makes him laugh and he realises his mistake too late, his lungs struggling to draw breath again as he finally gets hit with the pain, his body trying to stop him from moving; from causing any more damage. Shit, shit, shit. 

He had hoped he wouldn’t need to bother any of his brothers today since he was supposed to spend the whole day with Yuichi but he knows to pick his battles, now. He opens the comm link embedded in his prosthetic, contacting someone who he knows will pick up. 

“Che~ello!” comes the cheerful answer in just a few seconds, and Leonardo can't help but smile. 

“Mikeyyy, hermano, I'm in a bit of a pickle,” he wheezes, feeling the shift in his little brother's energy as soon as he hears the strain in his voice. 

“Leo? Are you okay?” 

“Not really, no,” Leonardo grunts. “Got into a scuffle with some big haywire robot– don’t worry, that’s taken care of. I suspect Donnie will want to scrap it for parts. Um. My shell’s– my shell’s cracked though.” 

Leonardo can vividly imagine the colour draining from Michelangelo's face and it would be funny if he wasn't acutely aware of a broken shell coming with the very real possibility of his innards turning into outnards. 

“I'm calling Draxy. Stay put, I'll get Lee to pick you up.” 

“Right,” Leonardo sighs, the line going out just when Yuichi is finally done with the mech and rushing to his side, face haphazardly wiped from oil. His gaze is sharp as he kneels next to him, sweaty and out of breath, and Leonardo thinks he looks like a knight. Or maybe like a samurai of the old, in this case. 

“There’s my hero,” he coos before Yuichi can get a word out and the rabbit’s brow furrows. 

“Don’t start,” he snaps but his tone softens almost immediately, “I saw you calling someone. It’s bad, isn’t it? It… it looks really bad.” 

“Yeeeah, this kimono is definitely ruined,” Leonardo laments, “unless you know how to, gh, get blood out of corduroy? No? Or the obi?” 

Yuichi stares. 

“A– a shame, really, I did like this one a lot–” 

“Leonardo!” Yuichi interrupts him and grabs his bicep, looking two seconds away from crying. Leonardo frowns. He knows he’s getting a little delirious but he was sincerely trying his best to lift his mate’s mood. 

“Leon, please, you’re rambling. Is someone coming? Can I do anything?” 

“‘m not rambling,” Leonardo grumbles, hissing when he fills his lungs again. “Leo’s coming to get us, Draxy– Draxum will treat the shell. And no, better keep the obi in place until we get to the medbay.” 

Yuichi’s shoulders slump and he sighs, most likely relieved that he’s not going to have to figure out how to deal with a cracked shell. Leonardo does not like the lingering worry in Yuichi’s gaze one bit, though, and he offers him a grin. It’s a little shaky but whatever. 

“Heeey, bunbun. Listen. This is nothing I haven’t been through before. I’ll be fine.” 

Yuichi gives him an honest-to-God kicked-puppy look and Leonardo thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen in his life. He almost tells him so but Yuichi cups his cheek and his forced grin melts away into surprised silence. 

“I hate seeing you hurt,” Yuichi murmurs, leaning down to press his forehead against Leonardo’s. The slider’s eyes flutter shut and he lifts his hand to hold onto Yuichi’s wrist. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I mean it. I should’ve been more careful.” 

Yuichi huffs and leans away to gently bump their foreheads together. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“Maybe, but ’m still sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Yuichi says, exasperated. “You should know that at this point, I’ll always worry.” 

Leonardo grins and this time it’s genuine. Breathing in his partner’s scent is like a balm to him, even if it’s tinged with the bitterness of motor oil, even if his body currently thinks that breathing is overrated. Even if he just got called an idiot by none other than said partner. 

“Raincheck on the date?” he mumbles, and finally he gets a chuckle out of the rabbit. Yuichi straightens his back and flicks him on the nose. 

“Like you even needed to ask. Idiot.” 

Before Leonardo can express his displeasure of being called an idiot for a second time there’s the familiar electric hum of a portal opening behind him, and someone whistles. 

“Sheesh, old man. That kimono is definitely ruined.” 

#NOT PROOFREAD I had to stop myself because every time I tried to check this over I kept writing MORE and that's just not sustainable #sdfghhsfghjafsfd #anyway these peepaws gay #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #leoichi #peepaw leo #peepaw yuichi #other characters mentioned + a cameo from #rise leo #future leonardo #future leo #samurai rabbit #usagi chronicles #yuichi usagi #usagi yuichi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles

[gogolatte]

Hello :D I would like to request an application for Sigma HCs with a reader where they both have their first time in marriage. I think it's kind of cute and romantic and I haven't seen anything like it before about Sigma. I don't know if you think this qualifies as "very personal and uncomfortable", and if it does, please excuse me and ignore my request.

hi, nonnie! this is not uncomfy for me at all, in fact, I find it pretty romantic as well (ꈍᴗꈍ)

if I'm not mistaken you mean the first time having sex/making love? I apologize if I misunderstood.

First time with Sigma!

✧ contents. nsfw, creampie (unprotected sex).

After the wedding party, I think both Sigma and you are tired and need to spend the night in each other's arms, cuddling and talking… and eventually making love<3

Sigma needs to take things slow! after all, this first time needs to be something special; slow making out entangled together, moaning into each other's mouths.

I headcanon Sigma as very sensitive, so a few kisses on his neck and moaning in his ear would make him hard instantly. He loves you so much that his body reacts on his own :((

He would slowly remove your clothing until you're lying on the bed with a cute white lingerie set that makes his cock twitch inside his pants.

(If you remove his clothes, he'll look at you with puppy eyes full of adoration).

Sigma would press kisses from your throat down to your cleavage, your ribs, your tummy, and finally to your navel before pushing the fabric of your lacy panties aside and kiss your bare pussy while looking up at you.

Of course, he needs to prepare you for what's to come, and what's better than his fingers?

“Angel, could you please open up?”

He'll say before sliding two fingers past your lips, coating them with your saliva then slipping them inside your hole slowly, making sure he's not hurting you or anything.

You could probably feel the wedding ring against your entrance as he pumps his fingers in and out, using his thumb to draw slow circles on your clit.

Once you're wet enough, he'll remove your panties and his boxers (already stained with pre-cum) and spread your legs a bit more before kissing your forehead.

“Tell me if it hurts, yes?”

After seeing you nod, he'll grab his cock and align it with your entrance— the tightness of your walls surrounding half of his shaft is enough to make him whimper softly.

“God… darling, please, take a deep breath, it'll hurt just for a brief second. I promise.”

Sigma smiles at you before linking your fingers together and kissing your lips as he shoves his cock all the way inside.

“Fuck… Oh my goodness… You feel so good, love.”

Sigma is definitely going to ask for permission before moving, then he's going to start with slow thrusts.

Panics a bit when he sees a little blood but then he remembers it's completely normal and goes back to work.

Even when you adjust to his cock, he won't stop asking if you're okay, and he'll tell you that he can stop at any moment.

He'll kiss you a lot, wherever he can reach. He wants to worship your body completely; squeezing your hips, caressing your thighs, kissing your neck.

Your pleasure is important to him too, so when he's close to cumming he'll rub your clit with his thumb so you two can finish together.

“I'm close, princess… let me fill you up, please please please—”

Creampie. First time with a creampie.

(From that day on Sigma is in love with creampies<3)

The afterward it's just him telling you how good you've done, how pretty you are, and how much he loves you and pampering kisses and cuddling with you until you both fall asleep.

© 2024 pinklacydovey

#sigma x reader #bsd sigma #bsd sigma x reader #sigma x you #bungou stray dogs x you #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd smut #sigma.zip #messages from the stars₊˚⊹☆ #sinful thoughtsꨄ︎ #nonnies♡ #requests.ᐟ

[adnauseum11]

Unexploded Ordinance (John Price x Reader)

You and John navigate the process of moving in together. John is pleased you are home.

1.4k words

CW: swearing, explicit sex MDNI

If the end of this chapter feels a bit abrupt it's because I split it in two to keep it from being a ridiculous length. You can expect the next chapter to pick up where this one left off.

Still not completely happy with this chapter but in the interest of not circling the drain forever and moving forward I'm posting anyways lol yolo

feedback welcome!

When John hasn’t returned from his call before you are done eating your breakfast - and polishing off the last of the raspberries - you take yourself to the bathroom to shower. He’s waiting for you in the living room when you finally emerge, feeling a bit more like yourself. He’s clearly lost in thought, your hand on his shoulder finally knocking him back to the present.

John is easy to talk into moving more things today, on your impromptu day off. When you arrive back at the apartment, he checks the door before he lets you enter, satisfied it’s been undisturbed. You immediately bicker with him about your furniture and what pieces will stay or go. You can tell he’s pleased when he wins the debate between the couches, you being partial to your vintage re-upholstered and wildly heavy chesterfield sofa. It’s too short for John to lay down on, forcing him to bend his knees and isn’t very comfortable, truth be told. It’s a gorgeous deep green velvet that draws the eye but otherwise isn’t overly practical. You pout about having to give it up until he gives over on your books entirely. He’s consistently bitched about moving your personal library, filled with heavy anthologies from your university days. They’ve been dragged from pillar to post over the years and you’ve refused every less than subtle suggestion to sell them. He doesn’t even try to make you choose which ones to keep, sighing deeply in resignation and asking how many boxes you think it will take to pack them all. This earns him the hardest hug you can muster and a rain of kisses he has to crouch for, chuckling lowly.

You make a trip back to his place with your clothing, the colourful array of fabrics making John’s limited selections seem all the starker by comparison. It brings you up short, seeing your things beside his in the wardrobe. You get caught up wondering what the hell you are doing, agreeing to this. You don’t get very far in your spiral before John finds you, kneeling surrounded by folded t-shirts. You’re jealous of his ability to seemingly pick a course of action and execute it without the self-doubt that swamps you occasionally. If you hadn’t known him as long as you have you would say it’s something he learned in the military, but you’re pretty sure that’s all John.

His presence steadies you again and you end up making another trip to collect your hairdryer and various other products needed to make yourself presentable for work tomorrow. Most of your everyday use items and valuables are safely rehoused in John’s flat by the time you are ready to throw the towel in for the day. You agree to go to the pub around the corner for dinner, neither of you feeling like cooking. On the walk down, John’s big hand stays on your lower back, keeping you close as you wander down the street together. It’s quiet at the pub, early in the week meaning the clientele are mostly regulars. You get your choice of seats and John steers you to a booth against the back wall, tugging you to sit on the same side as him.

He questions your half-baked plan to quit your job while distracting you from giving an answer, his hand creeping over your thigh and shoulders, bracketing you against him. You finally cross your legs, pinning his warm hand between your thighs so you can formulate a coherent response. He presses a smirk against your temple and listens as you complain of your treatment this morning, and then just in general. You've had a volatile few days and vent your spleen accordingly.

He removes his hands from your body when the food arrives, creating a tiny sliver of space between you on the bench seat. John hums sympathetically at your complaints but finally convinces you to get through the rest of the week before you submit anything in writing, pointing out you should probably update your resume first at minimum. You grumble but reluctantly agree, his even-keeled approach to the situation a better tactic than your instinct for dramatics.

John’s level head only seems to extend to your choices because by the time you’re out the door and on the way home he’s truly unable to keep his hands to himself. Twice on the short walk back he’s pressed you up against the wall of a nearby building, his hands cupping your face as his eager mouth finds yours. You make out like teenagers until you can feel the cold creeping into the tips of your ears, a gentle push against his chest enough to back him off temporarily. You’re getting better at reading John in this state, how his eyes glaze with want and his focus narrows. You finally resort to threading your fingers with his to keep his hand from constantly drifting over your ass, wrapping yourself around his arm to make him behave. 

You open the door using your key, John too preoccupied with working his hands under your jacket and shirt. His big body corrals you against him, kicking the door shut after wrestling you through it, almost not giving you time to get your key out of the lock.

“Fucking hell John.”

You breathe out as he spins you around, your arms going around his neck automatically. He kisses you hungrily, his palm cupping the back of your head. You feel the thump of the wall at your back, his hand leaving the back of your head to shove your coat off your shoulders. You wiggle out of it and push at the thick lambskin jacket he’s wearing, slipping your hands under it to grip his shoulders. He shrugs out of it, his lips finding yours again almost immediately. You can feel desire vibrating through his frame, his thigh working its way between yours. Before he can overwhelm you completely, you push back against his chest.

He's breathing hard, confusion mixing across his face as you flatten your palms against his chest and push, reversing your positions by backing him up against the opposite wall. You have to go up on your tip toes, gripping the back of his neck to tug him down to kiss you again. He’s got his hands full of your ass, too preoccupied to catch on to your intent until you're slipping out of his grasp, sliding to your knees in front of him. Your nimble fingers have his belt undone and his jeans open before he can process and stop you, hissing out your name as your fingers wrap around his twitching cock.

You smirk to yourself and wrench a deep groan from his chest as your lips close around the flushed head of his cock, your eyes locking on his face. His cheeks and throat are flushed with the same shade of red as his cock, his blue eyes now nearly black, his pupils dilated with desire. He looks so intense it sends a thrill through your belly that you’re capable of affecting him like this. You swirl your tongue over the head, tasting the salty pre-cum and slide your palm up the wiry hair of his firm abdomen, pushing his shirt up.

John growls lowly, his fingers burying into your hair, gripping close to the roots. He doesn’t try to direct your movements, content to let you work him over however you see fit but the gentle pull on your hair sends flashes of sensation down your spine. The muscles of his stomach jump at the drag of your fingers on his cock as you squeeze the base, sucking on the tip deeply, making John’s fingers clench in your hair. You lift off him and press his erection against his belly, running the flat of your tongue over the underside before teasing his balls with the tip of your tongue.

That has John rocking up onto his toes, hissing your name again followed by a curse. You can’t stop the pleased smirk that slides across your face and wrap your lips around the tip again, focusing your tongue on the sensitive spot on the underside. You can feel his cock twitching, the tension in his body ratcheting tighter with a moan. You let his shirt drop and cup his balls, lapping at the tip intently.

That seems to finally push John beyond his limit and he firmly tugs your hair to pull you off him. Your scalp tingles and you hum in disappointment but John’s already got a hold of your arm, lifting you to your feet again.

“C'mere love, I want to be inside you when I cum.”  

He growls lowly, making you shiver, backing you down the hallway to the bedroom with predatory intent. The look on his face makes your stomach quiver in anticipation, your insides going molten.

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @cadotoast @beebeechaos @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00

#fanfic #call of duty #captain john price #john price x reader #john price cod #john price #friends to lovers #john price x f!reader #john price x you #moving in together #falling in love #fluff and smut #this work has smut

[daenysx]

i hope you enjoy this little shot, i'm having a rough time with writing recently, so this is better than nothing i guess!

my masterlist

remedy

modern!aemond helps you sleep when you're nervous. cockwarming, nsfw.

it's such a terrible feeling, knowing that you need to get enough sleep for tomorrow but being unable to close your eyes.

you huff again, angry at yourself for not sleeping. aemond sleeps soundly next to you and you don't want to wake him up just because you can't find rest. he deserves a good night sleep, well, you deserve it too, but instead all you can do is frowning and letting a teardrop fall on your cheek.

you press your cheek on your pillow and extend your arm to aemond's naked torso. he never minds when you touch him as he sleeps, your fingers draw little shapes on his skin as you try not to think of anything. all you want is to get rid of the stress to be calm, and you don't realize your fingers press a little harder on his body until he opens his eye to look at you.

"love?" he is trying too hard to keep his eye open. "everything okay?"

"i can't sleep." you say, quietly. "i'm nervous about tomorrow, the exam and presentation."

he hums, blinking a few times to stay awake. "that's okay." he lifts his head to see what time it is. "that's completely okay but you should get some sleep for an important day, it's almost 3 am."

you nod. "i know. i just can't sleep."

he thinks of a quick solution then. something that always calms you down, eases off your worries. something he should've done before falling asleep to make sure you're sleeping too.

"let me help you, hmm? you know, you'll feel much better if you focus on something else."

you nod, understand what he implies. you take off your underwear beneath the oversize shirt you're wearing and toss it aside. your shirt is next on the floor as he does the same thing, staying all naked for you.

"come here, pretty girl."

his fingers are gentle as he brings them on your cunt. he moves his hand to his mouth when he realizes you should be wetter and spits on his fingers. it works as his thumb rubs your clit with a soft pressure, you get wet enough to take him.

your hand goes to his cock, only stroking it a few times to make him harder. your thumb grazes his tip and he lifts his hips to your hand unconciously.

"hmm, that's-that's enough, baby." he says. you nod, letting his cock free and he grabs your hips from behind as he finds a comfortable angle for you.

he guides himself inside you, your head falls back to his shoulder. the pressure is lovely, almost what you need. "can you- can you go deeper, please?"

how can he say no when you're being the sweetest thing? he angles his hips and pushes himself deeper, holding you steady. "better?"

you nod. "thank you, and sorry for waking you up."

"there's nothing to be sorry for, love. you know how much i love doing this, hmm?" he kisses your neck, your hairline.

"i love falling asleep to the feeling of you tight around me. so pretty and warm, all for me, my sweet girl."

his cock inside you, his fingers massaging your waist, his lips on your neck certainly help. your eyes close, feeling so full of him. finally you are calm enough to fall asleep, you close your eyes and let yourself have a few hours of peace.

"i won't sleep until i make sure you're sleeping, love. everything will be perfect tomorrow, okay?" he kisses your neck again. "you'll be perfect."

you nod, softly exhale. "good night, aemond."

"good night, sweetheart."

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #modern!aemond #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond × reader

[somnambulic-thing]

wrong number 2.2k

A/N: Just had an idea for a fic I will very probably never write in a fully flashed out way because I have a million wips and no attention span and no deisre to have more wips but don't want to fully let this idea go to waste so here it goes in very shortened form and probably very messy and rough.

Eddie x afab!reader || imagine them in their early/mid 30s

cw: mental health themes, reader has a broken leg, angsty shit, fluff, happy end

You moved cities to have a fresh start after a rough time came to an even rougher but long overdue end. You know nobody here, a clean slate to draw new blueprints on.

Two weeks in and despite your grumpy hermit ways, you are friendly with some of your neighbours already. They are nice, helpful people which is a win you take like it was a million bucks.

Three weeks in, you fall down a flight of stairs, break your leg and bump your head. Brilliant.

Back from the ER you sink into your bed, looking at still unpacked boxes and biting back bitter tears of frustration when your phone beeps. You eye it suspiciously, anxious your past might be knocking already, bloodhounds of days past sniffing your weakend state and their chance to inflict a little more pain.

You figure you're overracting, turn on the sceen and find a message from an unknown number.

[Hey Rick. Sorry to drop this on you on such short notice, but I won't make it to your get-home-from-prison party tonight. I can swing by next week with a six-pack or something. You have a good time, yeah? I'll explain when we see each other.]

[Hey there. I'm afraid you got the wrong number. I don't know any Ricks. But gratulations to him from me for getting out of prison, when you get a chance. Unless he's a serial killer or something comparable. Then I want you to run.]

[Well, shit. Sorry.]

And then after a few seconds: [I get back to you in case I need a place to hide.]

And somehow this sparks a conversation that lasts for hours. His name is Eddie, you learn after some minutes of back and forth which are unsuspectedly remarkably funny. But he's surprisingly also really concerned about your leg and your mild concussion and the fact that you mentioned you will give yourself one day of rest and then try to catch up on and get as much stuff done as you can with your cast and crutches. Luckily you can work from home, you say. Eddie isn't sure how he feels about that.

He makes you swear you take it easy. He asks if there are people that can take care of you and you lie to that concerned stranger who is the first person to make you laugh out loud in a too long time. You tell him your friends are taking turns to look after you. Why lie to a stranger? It's complicated... He keeps checking in, keeps chatting with you about all kinds of things all day long no matter what he has to do: Work, band practice, DnD, being out with friends or his uncle, Eddie keeps lighting up your phone all day long. The later the day, the deeper your conversations and you soon get the feeling that Eddie isn't all just fun and jokes but when you actually try to poke softly, he evades you.

[When you feel better and still are interested in my bullshit, I'll share. Promise.]

Okay, fine. Why would he want to trust you with his private struggles? He's just a stranger, with friends and an support system, who probably will lose interest to invest his time into you sooner than he himself is expecting. Which is fine... really... would be fine if he wasn't really funny... and interesting with a hundred interests and hobbies... and so weird and oddly caring... and living on the other side of the country.

But four days in and you wake up with a text from him, asking you if you finally could sleep a little better than the days before.

And then at 3am and endless hours of exchanging messages filled with thoughs and musings and dreams, he offers to send you a copy of a book he is sure you would enjoy. That he really needs... you to read for important reasons. One of them is to remedy the boredom inflicted by bedrest in those hours Eddie is busy and can't entertain you.

You give him your address almost without second thought, despite your mind telling you to maybe think about it first...

You had avoided anything outside of texts - no pictures, no calls - and he hadn't pressed the matter by himself. Which was a relief because you're not sure if you could witstand the temptation if he were to offer.

Getting more pieces of him... It just felt too dangerous. But a book was just a book, right?

You rely on your 72 year old neighbour for food and other errands and chores around your place. Mrs P is such a sweet old lady eager to help as much as she can, bending over backwards for you. So you naturally try to bother her only when it's really dire.

Seven days in and you see the postman stuff a small parcel into your mailbox. You hurry to snatch your crutches, not even thinking about what you are doing and you limp down the six stories to your mailbox way too fast. Your head is not happy and neither is your leg and it takes you and your ego ages and all your strength to get back up to your apartment.

You fall into your bed, exhausted, sweaty and in pain and crying in frustration and you fall asleep on the package from Eddie before you can even think of opening it.

Your phone rings and wakes you up when it's already pitch black outside. You've slept most of the day away.

Answering the phone on autopilot, still half asleep you don't check the name on the screen.

"Yeah?" you drawl.

"Jesus fucking Christ you're alive."

"What--? I--"

"I haven't heard from you in hours and your messages sounded so antsy and sad all day and I had a bad feeling somehow. Are you ok? Did I wake you?"

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. Hi, that's my voice. Anxious edition."

You're overwhelmed. Finding no words while his words dig deep trenches of longing into your brain which are hard to get out of...

"You still there?"

"Uh-hn, yeah..."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. I just woke up, like you said. That's my voice. Sleepy edition."

And then he laughs. Oh god, what a sweet sweet sound.

"Hmm, sorry I just was really worried here..."

You tell Eddie there is nothing to worry about but that he's very sweet and he asks you if you have a little time to chat, tells you he likes your voice, likes it a lot and of course you have time but something weighs on you and the flutter of bats in your stomach.

You can't say if it's the aftershock of your staircase ordeal or the fact that your wonderful stranger keeps getting more and more real and more and more precious or a mixture of both. Suddenly there is silence on the other end of the line.

"Eddie? You still there?"

"Something's off."

You shuffle and feel the parcel poke into your ribs. You dig it out from under you, face heating up from two sources - the gift and his tone - and you start to fumble the parcel open.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be. I just want to help. Let me help."

You finally fully unwrap the book. It's a well loved worn paperback copy. You run your fingertips over every wrinkles and cracks in the cover. Your voice sounds dazed to your own ears when you speak.

"I got your book..."

"Oh. Okay, yeah, great. And?"

You notice the excitement in his voice, notice that it matches your heartbeat when you open the book and find it full of notes. On some pages the margines are completly filled with Eddie's toughts.

"I just unwrapped it, like, ten seconds ago."

"Oh."

"I didn't realize you would send me... such a personal thing... looks like a diary..."

"Kinda is. Too weird?"

You stare at his handwriting which is somewhat of an elegant scratch and all those little sketches and something inside you gives way.

"I'm not okay..."

"I know. Tell me?"

You tell him that you lied, that there were no friends despite your eldery neighbor looking after you and you tell him about your little ordeal this afternon and about feeling tired and lonely and scared and starved for joy and he listens through it all.

Now it will be too much, you think but then you look at the book in your lap and keep talking. When you're done, there is silence on the other end.

"You still there."

"Processing."

"Mad?"

"Nope."

"Too much?"

"For me?" He chuckles. It's bitter and wonderful. "Sweetheart, it's not me who's dealing with all that shit right now. If you can handle living it, I can handle listening to it..."

"I hear you swallowing a but."

"But I know what you're talking about..."

You talk a little longer and despite him saying everything is alright, something is different. He seems distant, distracted, not fully with you. You keep leafing through that book, gently tracing the lines that are proof of his existance, marks he left in the world, preparing for him to ask you to send it back as soon as you can. You prepare for him to realize this was a mistake. A charity case gone wrong.

Eventually you get tired and a headache and he tells you to go rest, voice soft and deep and you're preparing for this to be the last time you'll hear it.

"Sleep well, yeah?"

No more sweetheart.

"I will. You too."

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

You have a restless night and wake up to a message from him.

[Good Morning. How did you sleep?]

You smile, feeling stupid, like you overreacted and you exchange some messages but they are short and flat and there is still no sweetheart. Around noon, your phone has gone silent. Inside your chest, the echoes of disapointment are deafening.

You bury yourself in his book, and it feels like you're having a conversation with him through his notes for they are like direct replies to your own thoughts about the story unfolding. You can't put it down, probably look up from it for the first time in hours late in the evening when you're full on crying, holding the book away from you to not get tears or snot on it.

And then there is a knock at your door. Three sharp raps. Quick.

And you think it must be Mrs P with your groceries, you feel guilty that she has to carry all the stuff upstairs while her knee is bothering her. You make your way out of bed, get your crutch and slowly move towards the door.

"Coming!"

You realize you still have the book in your hand and you wedge it under your arm to open your door and--

"Hi."

Your heart is racing as your mind tries to keep up with what is happening. You consider pinching yourself, consider reaching out to touch him, see if he's made of flesh and blood or delirium, feel the dip of a frown-made crease betwen his brows under your fingertips, the fine stubble on his cheeks under the slide of your thumb.

"That's my face. Worried edition... why are you crying?"

You lean against the crutch, wipe at your cheeks with one hand, dry your fingers on your shirt and pluck the book from under your arm, holding it up wordlessly. Eddie's face lights up in a big, wide, gorgeous smile. Now there are dimples you want to explore. Suddenly the floor is moving.

"Easy, easy." Warm hands steady you. You hear the door fall close behind you and then it finally dawns on you.

The dreamy guy from inside your phone is inside your flat.

He's holding you steady by your shoulders on outstreched arms, searching your face with big, incredibly dark eyes.

God he's fucking beautiful.

"You gonna faint, beautiful?"

You shake your head. That's all you can do.

"I'm going to use your very understandable shock to ramble for a moment, okay? Okay. The obvious first. What the fuck am I doing here without invitation? Offering you my help. I rearranged all my shit and I can stay for two weeks, if you like. I have a hotel room booked and ready if you don't want me to stay the nights. Next: Why didn't I ask on the phone first? Because I kinda feared you would just say no and be all tough and stupid about needing help. I am way more charming in person and I was counting on me actually being here, a real guy, showing you that I mean it, would make it easier to convince you... Am I pushy? Yeah. I guess I am. But... if you really want me to piss off again, I will piss off. We pretend that I was just getting back my book because you're not fit to get to the post office right now and I'll never bother you again... but I could stay and make you dinner while you tell me which part of the book made you cry, decide over my fate when you're fed and calmed down? I left a whole load of food with your neighbor downstairs. Nice lady. Thinks you're a stubborn thing, by the way."

You swallow around something enourmous and try your vocal cords on something simple.

"Hi."

He tilts his head, smiles softly.

"Hey sweetheart."

You inhale deeply. Your exhale either carries bravery or invites doom but suddenly you're really, really hungry...

"You're really here."

"Yeah, shit, I know... to be honest, my knees are really wobbly right now?"

"You're crazy."

"Hmm, totally... bad case... started about a week ago..."

And there you see it. He's nervous too. That finally makes him real.

"So," you say, reaching out to cup his cheek, your touch coaxing out those dimples again. "What's for dinner then?"

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #long fics I will never write #my fic

[callofdudes]

Call of Duty's How to Train Your Dragon pt1.

A/n: Is this finally being created after @itsscromp finally got my brain worms wiggling again? Yes. Is this also a get better fic? Yes. Is it an entire script for a move? Also yes.

Yes, it's also just shy of 20K words so... This half of the post is only about 12K. If you like httyd/cod crossovers you've come to the right place. But if you want to give it a chance and have a shit ton of free time. I'd also be honored.

Hiccup: Y/n. Astrid: Ghost. Fishlegs: Gaz. Ruff/Tuff: Soap. Snotlout: Graves.

I will reblog with the second half of the fic. Cred for the divider used goes to @straywords

This is Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless, and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death.

It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery.

My village. In a word, sturdy. And it's been here for seven generations, but, every single building is new. We have fishing, hunting, and a charming view of the sunsets.

The only problems are the pests. Even if they carry away all our food… You see, most places have mice or mosquitoes. We have…

Y/n opens the door of the large house structure, watching Vikings go running by, a monstrous nightmare stalking across the ground, talons digging into the stone. It turned it's gaze on the door, letting out a stream of fire from its gut. 

Y/n quickly slams the door shut as fire flicked up between the cracks and fades into dark smoke.

-dragons. Most people would leave. Not us. We're Vikings. We have, stubbornness issues. 

Y/n rushed outside, smoke billowing into the clouds from the fire torching into the wooden buildings.

My name's Y/n. Great name, I know. But, it's not the worst. Parents believe a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls. Like our charming Viking demeanor wouldn't do that.

Y/n falls back against the ground with an earth quaking tremor as another dragon flies into the area. Several Vikings greeting them. You. This is you. Flabby skin tight arms wrapped around thin layers of barely noticeable muscle.

Clothes seeming too big and too small, hands as soft as a newborn despite the experience in the forge. The only place you ever seem to be helpful no doubt. 

What a life a Viking like you lives. You're bloody useless! Even a newborn baby could wield an axe better than you could.

You rush up one of the paths along the hills of Berk, multiple Vikings looking at your sorry figure and asking why you were out during a dragon attack. You only ever caused trouble. When you weren't being useless you were being an expensive clumsy step.

“What are you doing here!?” One Viking says before you rush past.

“What are you doin’ out??” Another.

“Get back inside!!”

You're grabbed up swiftly by the collar of your shirt, your stubby feet dangling above the ground. A dragon's fiery breath drawing a line in the road, barely were you saved from its wrath.

“Y/n?! What are they doing out again-?!” He looked at you, baffled. “What are you doing out?! Get inside!”

That's Stoick the Vast. Chief of the tribe. They say that when he was a baby, he popped a dragon's head clean off of its shoulders. 

You watch as the large burly man grabs a cart along the road, swinging it and throwing it violently at a deadly Nadder in the sky. The dragon struggled and went down as it burst into splinters.

 Do I believe it? Yes, I do.

While the others rush to the scene to take the dragons on, you cower and rush into the smithing shop nestled near the middle of the town road. The only place not burnt down by now.

Immediately putting on an apron and stumbling about.

“Oh, nice of you to join the party, I thought you'd been carried off!”

You turned briefly to another large man, his appendages having some work done, what with missing both an arm and a leg. Always wondered what kept him alive… it clearly wasn't his limbs.

“What, who me? Nah, come on! I'm waaaay too muscular for their taste. They wouldn't know what to do with all…” Your lack of any muscle is incredibly. Being born into the generation you were, how you managed to stay the same length and width of a stick was quite the sight. “...this.”

You moved a rather large weapon and opened the smithing window, a Viking immediately grabbing a weapon from the desk before you could take them back to the smelter.

He hums. “Well, they need toothpicks, don't they?” 

You roll your eyes a tad and sigh.

The meat-head with attitude and interchangeable hands is Gobber. I've been his apprentice ever since I was little. Well... littler.

You look out the smithing window as Stoick tackles another dragon. A dragon landing on another roof and blowing fire into the scorching wood. It crumbling beneath its talons.

See? Old village, lots and lots of new houses.

“FIRE!!” A Viking shouted, followed by four teen rushing out with buckets of water.

Oh, and that's Gaz, Graves, Soap, and... Ghost. Oh, their job is so much cooler.

You watch the group walk from a fiery explosion as Vikings pass by, led by the snappiest rackater of them all. 

Ghost may have been a hard head who bullied your entire existence in a subtle way that made you feel like you were the problem, but that didn't matter. 

Graves was a real hard ass. Always following said lead teen around like he was gonna get a chance for even a morcel. Considering no respecting person in the village would take that…

There was Soap. They say he had a twin, but, had. Considering no one knows what happened or where said twin ended up. Easiest to say Odin didn't want them to live the hardships.

Or they got eaten by a dragon. 

Gaz, well, no one really knew what his problem was. He was a tad odd, but damn smart, and somehow more popular than you, skellington.

You lean out the smithing window, a hooked hand pulling you back in. “Oh come on! Please, let me out! I need to make my mark!”

“Oh you've made marks all right, in all the wrong places!”

“Please, two minutes. I'll kill a dragon. My life will get infinitely better. I might even get noticed!”

“You can't lift a hammer, you can't swing an axe, you can't even throw one of these!” Gobber lifts a bola to express his exasperation, only for it to be pulled from his hook and thrown at a dragon, taking it down.

“Okay, fine, but this will throw it for me!” You smiled excitedly rushing back into the shop, showing off your cool canon mechanism.

“See, now this right here is what I'm talking about!” Gobber sighed, exasperated. Watching you fiddle with your contraption.

“Mild calibration issue-” You fiddled with some levers and the string on the draw.

“Don't you- no- Y/n. If you ever want to get out there to fight dragons, you need to stop all... this.” He gestured vaguely to you, looking you up and down.

“But you just pointed to all of me?”

“Yes, exactly! Stop being you.” Gobber smiled, thinking you were getting it. Poking you in the chest.

“Oooh…”

“Ooooh, yes.”

“You sir, are playing a dangerous game. Keeping this much, raw... Viking-ness... contained? THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.” You pointed your finger up, brow turning down angrily.

Gobber looked bored at you. “I'll take my chances. Sword. Sharpen. Now.” He dumped the sword into your frail hands, leaving you to your devices.

One day, I'll get out there. Because, killing a dragon, is everything around here.

You can look out the smithing window while you put the sword on the grindstone, sparks flying from the blade as you contemplate your options of execution.

A Nadder head is sure to get you at least noticed. Gronckles are tough. Taking down one of those would definitely get you the spot light. A Zippleback? Exotic. Two heads, twice the status.

And then, there's the Monstrous Nightmare. Only the best Vikings go after those. They have this nasty habit of setting themselves on fire.

You watched from the window as one crawled up the wall of the tower and onto a catapult, lighting itself up and scaring off the Viking manning the device.

Stoick slamming his hammer into its face to ward it off from the top of the tower.

But the ultimate prize is the dragon no one has ever seen. We call it the-

There's a high pitched whistle across the sky. Vikings retreating desperately as they call out.

“NIGHT FURY! GET DOWN!” The Vikings rush to get down. From nowhere a catapult is torn apart with a plasma blast.

This thing never steals food, never shows itself, and... never misses. No one has ever killed a Night Fury. That's why you're going to be the first.

“Man the fort, Y/n. They need me out there!” He attaches an ax piece to his hand, rushing to the door.

“Stay. Put. There. You know what I mean.” Gobber runs off, leaving you in the shop. You tore off your apron and ran back to your catapult set up. Steering it out the doors and running up the hill along the catapults. 

Vikings yelling at you to get back and go inside. You can't be trusted outside when the island is in chaos. They can't trust you not to make chaos.

“Y/n!” One yelled.

“I know! I'll be right back!” You led your catapult on wheels up the old path, Stoick pinning down a group of Nadders. 

The others fought while you reached the edge of the cliff. Looking out at the darkness, a surprisingly peaceful corner of the island away from the chaos feet away.

You opened the catapult and set it up, the small aiming needle and the leader strap that held in the bola aiming around. You looked at the night sky, out at all the stars.

“Come on… Give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at.”

You watched the sky. Hearing the low cry of the dragon. Seeing the dark figure blacking out the stars, the only possible way you could see the creature that blended so easily into the night.

Attempting to track the shadow with the scope of your catapult.

You heard the dragon make its move, dive bombing from the sky and shooting a plasma blast into a nearby fire, knocking the tower down. As it cleared the explosion you clenched your eyes shut and pulled the trigger.

The catapult blasted you back on your butt, hearing the cry as the creature went down. 

You hit it. For once in your miniscule life you hit it!! A dragon!! A night fury!!

“I hit it!! Yes! Did anybody see that??” You turned around, a monstrous nightmare creeping up on you, its narrowed face making it look like a devilish thing.

“Except… for you.” 

It growled at you and you screamed, attracting the attention of Stoick. He sighed in exasperation, pulling away from the tied down Nadder heads. “DO NOT let them escape!” He commanded some others as he rushed to your aid.

You ran and stumbled from the dragon that stalked after you, firing at you. Hiding behind a pillar as your heart pounded in your chest.

You just killed a dragon and now you're dead. You're a goner. Oh you should have stayed inside.

It blasted a fiery blaze against the pillar, and you briefly squeezed your eyes shut. Slowly forcing one open and inching around the corner. 

The dragon growled as its head turned, coming around from behind you. Before it could fire, Stoick slammed his fist into its face, getting the attention onto him.

It belched out the last of its flame, looking weakly down at the splatter and up at Stoick.

“You're all out of juice.” He clenched his fists and punched the monstrous nightmare, bullying it until it retreated desperately back into the night.

You tensed up, feeling the burning hot metal of the pillar crunch and crumble. The wooden pole leaning and the flaming bowl of coals on top spilled as it toppled. Falling to the side and crashing into a fire gust of ashes into a small pool of water.

Vikings gathered around you as you timidly looked up at Stoick.

Oh, and there's one other thing you should know…

A woman cried and gasped, the coals flickering and landing across the ground and the dirt. Your shoulders tensing and rising with each noise. Slowly turning to Stoick who did not look happy.

“Sorry… dad..”

You and the others all watched as the dragons flew by, the sound of the sheep they'd captured from the island sounding off as they left. 

Slowly pursing your lips you turned to your father. “Ok but I hit a night fury-”

Stoick grabbed you by the back of your collar, dragging you off effortlessly.

“Ah! It's not like the last few times, dad! I really actually hit it.”

“You guys weren't around. I was alone when I hit it. I had a clear shot.” 

Gobber watched regretfully as you were dragged. “It fell just off Ravens point I say let's get a search party out there-”

“Stop!” Stoick interrupted you, making you purse your lips again silently as he now stood you in front of him. “Just stop.”

“Every time you get out, trouble follows. Can't you see I have bigger problems?? Winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed.”

An awkward pause before you speak. “Well between you and me the village could use a little less of that? No?”

A Viking behind you silently disagrees as he rubs his round stomach. No, no, the village can stay well fed. They like it.

“This is not a joke! Y/n!” Stoick sighs. “Why can't you just follow the simplest of orders??”

You bounce on your feet. “I-I can't stop myself. I see a dragon and I have to just kill it.” You twist your hands, looking up at him. 

Yeah, right. Like you could ever kill a dragon. 

“It's who I am, dad.” You say, sighing. You're full of crap.

Stoick rubs his face. “Ey… you are many things y/n, but a dragon killer? Is not one of them… get back to the house.”

He looks up at Gobber, motioning him. “Make sure they get there.”

Gobber comes over and gently hits your head. 

“I have their mess to clean up…” Stoick walks past as Gobber leads you sulking home.

To make things worse you passed the other teens, Soap snickering with Gaz. “Quite the performance.” Gaz commented.

“Wow, I've never seen someone mess up that badly.” Graves leaned in your face. “That helped.”

You sulked by, noticing Ghost admiring his axe in the background, leaned up against the stone ledge.

“Thank you, thank you. I was trying.”

As you pass Gober grips Graves helmet and shoves him back, making him choke. “Ow-!”

You two walk back to the house, your annoyance stewing. “I really did hit one.”

“Sure you did.”

“He never listens.”

“It runs in the family.” Gobber replied.

“And when he does it's always with this disappointed scowl, like someone skimped on the meat in his sandwich.”

You turn just before the door, making a mock impression of your father, raising your eyebrows in anger. “Excuse me, barmaid! I'm afraid you brought me the wrong offspring.” 

You raise your arms in annoyance, doing wild gestures. “I ordered an extra large boy with beefy arms. Extra guts and glory on the side. This here, this is a talking fishbone!”

“Now, you're thinking about this all wrong. It's not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand.” Gobber offers you a smile, to which your expression drops.

You sigh flatly. “Thank you for summing that up.”

“Look, I'm trying to tell you to stop trying to be what you're not.” Gobber says as you open the door to the house.

“I just.. wanna be one of you guys..” You say, closing the door behind you. 

Gobber sighs sadly, starting to leave, giving you space.

All the space you needed to sneak out of the back of the house. Immediately rushing down the back of the hill the house was set on…

“Either we finish them, or they'll finish us! It's the only way we'll be rid of them! If we find the nest and destroy it, the dragons will leave. They'll find another home! One more search. Before the ice sets in.” 

Stoick looks around the Meade hall, slamming his knife into a map on the table, seeing all the hesitation. 

“Those ships never come back!” One Viking calls out from the end of the long table.

“We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard. Now who's coming with me?”

“Today's not good for me. I've gotta do my axe returns.” One mumbles.

Stoick leans back from the table. “Alright. Those who stay behind can look after y/n.”

Immediately every hand at the table went up. And Stoick nodded. “That’s more like it.”

Gobber sat at the table, finishing off a tankard of drink. “Alright, I'll pack my undies.”

Stoick came over to him, sitting next to him at the table. “No, I need you to stay here and train some new recruits.”

Gobber mulls over his cup, before replying sarcastically. “Oh, perfect. And while I'm busy, Y/n can cover the stall. Molten steel, razor sharp blades, lots of time to themself... what could possibly go wrong?”

Stoick sighed, slouching slightly. “What am I going to do with them, Gobber?”

“Put them in training like the others.”

“No, I'm serious.”

“So am I.” 

They look at each other, Stoick leaning his arm on the table. “They'd be killed before you let the first dragon out of its cage!”

“You don't know that.” Gobber goes back to his drink.

“I do, actually.”

“No, you don't.” Gobber points a finger at him.

“Listen, you know what their like.” He got up from the table. “From the time they could crawl, they've been… different.”

He walked around the table by the fire against the wall.

“They don't listen,” Gobber chokes on his drink as he listens. “They have the attention span of a sparrow.” Stoick goes on.

Gobber looks into his drink for his missing tooth which he previously choked on.

Stoick is still on. “I take them fishing and they go hunting for- for trolls!”

“Trolls are real!” Gobber points his drink arm at Stoick. “They steal your socks. But only the left ones… what's with that??”

Stoick sighs. “When I was a boy.”

“Oh here we go.” 

“My father told me to bang my head against a rock and I did it. I thought it was crazy, but I didn't question him.” 

Stoick turns. “You know what happened??”

“You got a headache.”

“That rock split in two. It taught me what a Viking could do, Gobber. He could- He could crush mountains, level forests, tame seas!” He gestures loud. “Even as a boy, I knew what I was, what I had to become.” 

Stoick goes and sits at the table again, slouching. “Y/n is not that kid.”

“You can't stop them, Stoick. You can only prepare them. Look, I know it seems hopeless.” Gobber gestures his drink arm.

“But the truth is you won't always be around to protect them. Their going to get out there again. Their probably out there now.”

And he was right. Out the forest at Ravens point, he exasperatedly crossed another X in your book. You'd been searching everywhere for this damn dragon, eventually giving up.

“Oh the gods hate me…” you snapped the book shut. “Some people lose their knife or their mug, not me.”

You scuff your feet. “I manage to lose an entire dragon.” You walk down the path, angrily slapping a tree branch that comes right back at you.

Turning your attention to the part of the part that is disturbed. A large dirt train plowed through the land. 

You frown, following it up to a small hill. As you climb it, your eyes land sight of the dragon. You gasp, your heart racing as you immediately duck down. 

Your eyes go wide as you hide behind the mound, panting. What do you do?? What do you do??

You sat up, immediately searching for your knife. Grabbing it out shakily and holding it like your life depended on it.

You slid down the hill, hiding behind a large rock before poking out. Seeing the dragon tied up and caught in the net you'd flung it into. 

You disastrous human. How could you? How could you do this?

You smiled though, shocked, in pure shock. “Oh wow, this- this fixes everything!” You walked over, putting your foot on its shoulder. “I have brought down this mighty beast-”

The dragon bellows in pain, shrugging its shoulder to push you off, making you jump and scramble back.

You shake and pant as you hold your knife out in front of you, walking closer. You can see the dragon's blue green eyes on you, staring at you.

“I'm going to kill you, dragon. I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father. I'm a Viking. I am a VIKING!” You hold the knife down, pointed at the beast.

The night fury breathes heavily, clearly scared as it stares at you with a sharp gaze, awaiting its horrific fate.

You raise the knife above your head, steeling yourself for the moment, peeling an eye open to look down at the dragon. It still stared at you, helpless, and scared.

You readjust the knife, taking a deep breath. The dragon moans, laying its head down and closing its eyes. Scared, but knowing it's fate. 

And that breaks you. It's the last noise of distress going unheeded to any cruel human that would have found him. 

You attempted to shoo the thought and claim its life, but instead.. you couldn't. You groaned, slumping the knife handle to the top of your head. 

You slumped, rubbing the side of your face and looking at the knife, then the dragon. No, no you couldn't do this. 

“I did this…” You slowly back up, returning to leave, but looking back at those ropes. 

You went back, and you started to cut. The dragon’s eyes shot open in an instant, looking over as you sawed the blade through the ropes and pulled it free. 

As soon as the last rope that freed its legs was off, it jumped at you, growling in your face as it pushed you to the ground.

Your head hit the edge of the rock as its claw kept your chest pinned. You gasped for air, looking up at the dragon, into its sharp eyes. 

The dragon growled down at you as you leaned your face away, your heart pounding. The dragon leaned his arm off your chest, slamming you down and roaring in your face. 

It turned and dashed, flying off, taking off lopsided and flying into a tree. It wailed when it hit the ground and then tried to take off again, wailing in pain as it flew into the fog.

You slowly reached for your knife, clutching your heart as your eyes remained blown wide. 

You tried to stand, your knees shaking like a deer and weak. You felt wheezy and like you would vomit at any moment. Not making it far before hitting the ground with a thud and falling unconscious.

It was late by the time you came home, walking into the house to see your father, Stoick stoking the fire, waiting for you.

You slowly closed the door, seeing him and attempting to rush by and head upstairs. Going full hands and knees rushed, but it was futile. 

“Y/n.”

“Dad, uh…” You swallowed awkwardly, your thoughts immediately rushing back to earlier that day and the shit you'd probably get into if he knew you let a night fury free…

“I uh, have to talk to you, dad…”

Stoick stood, coming over. “I have to talk to you too, y/n.”

Both of you took deep breaths.

“I've decided I don't want-”

“I've decided it's time you learn-”

“To fight dragons. What??”

Stoick clears his throat. “You go first.”

“No, no you go first.” You started to sweat a little, gripping the stairs, feeling your collar getting tight.

“All right.” Stoick sighs, massaging his knuckles. “You get your wish. Dragon training. You start in the morning.”

“Oh, man, I should've gone first!” You panicked a lot, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly, looking away.

“Uh, 'cause I was thinking, you know, we have a surplus of dragon-fighting Vikings, but do we have enough… bread-making Vikings, or small home repair Vikings-?”

Stoick leaned over, picking up an axe. “You'll need this.” He hands it to you, making you huff with the weight on your incredibly toothpick durability, q-tip quality arms.

“Gah-” you panicked, looking at him worriedly. “Dad, I don't want to kill dragons.” You protested. 

Stoick laughed. “Of course you do.”

“Rephrase… Dad, I can't kill dragons.” you held the axe, your legs weak and your stomach churning sickeningly with the thought of being ignored in this.

“But you will kill dragons.”

Your worry grows, gripping the axe. “No, I'm very extra sure that I won't.”

“It's time Y/n.”

“Can you not hear me!?” You ask desperately and exasperated.

“This is serious, y/n.”

He gestured. “When you carry this axe, you carry all of us with you.” Stoick picks the axe up from your arms and adjusts it. 

“Which means you walk like us.” He bunches your shoulders together and fixes your slouch. “You talk like us. You think like us. No more of…. This.” He gestured vaguely to you. 

“You just gestured to all of me.” You pouted.

“Deal??” Stoick asked, making your heart sink at once again being completely ignored.

“This conversation is feeling very one-sided.”

“Deal!?” Stoick repeats.

“Deal…”

“Good.” He nods to you, not even touching you. He picked up his sack for the voyage and his Viking hat. 

“Train hard. I'll be back. Probably.”

“And I'll be here… maybe.”

“Welcome to dragon training.” Gobber says as you all enter the ring. A large stone pit tug into the groups full of armory and cages with chain domed across the top.

Ghost leads the group of teens into the ring, holding his axe firmly in his hand. He looks around, parts of his slightly long blonde hair hanging in front of his sharp brown eyes.

Such a warm color, such a cold stare. “No turning back.” He said to mostly himself, the others checking out the place.

Oh and there's you in the back. Toothpick. 

“I hope I get some serious burns.” Graves says.

“Yeah, I'm hoping for some maulings. Like on my shoulder or my lower back.” Soap commented with a grin.

Ghost spoke up, tilting his head. “Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it.” He already had a few. From dragon fights? No. But scars nonetheless. He wanted a scar from the dragon's he killed. 

Even if he would have to force the mark. 

You mumbled sarcastically from the background. “Oh yeah… pain, great.. love it..”

They all look back, simultaneously looking at you with disgust, while Ghost just scrunched his nose. “Oh great, who let you in??” Graves complains.

“Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village.” Gobber said, motioning you all into the middle of the rock pit. Closer to your doom.

“Well, Y/n already killed a Night Fury, so, does that disqualify him or…?” Graves smirked at you antagonistically.

“Can I transfer to the class with the cool Vikings?” Soap added on to the taunt as they walked away without you.

Gobber got closer to you, smiling softly. “Don't worry. You're small and you're weak. That'll make you less of a target! They'll see you as sick or insane and go after the more Viking-like teens instead.”

With that Gobber explained the essence of dragon training. Behind each of the doors is a dragon. The training sessions will focus on an aspect of fighting. The person last standing against the dragon is to be the winner of the round.

Whoever wins in the end?? You get a brag tag for a good chunk of years.

Gobber went on. “Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight! The Deadly Nadder!” 

“Speed: eight; Armor: sixteen.” Gaz finally spoke up.

“The Hideous Zippleback!”

“Plus eleven stealth times two.”

“The Monstrous Nightmare!”

“Firepower: fifteen.”

“The Terrible Terror!” 

“Attack: eight; Venom: twelve!”

“CAN YOU STOP THAT?! And... the Gronckle!” Gobber snapped, getting to the last door. He hooked his interchangeable arm to the latch. 

“Woah, hang on- aren't you going to teach us first??” Graves asked in disbelief.

Gobber shrugged. “I believe in learning on the job.”

He pulled the door open and released the Gronckle. The others tensed up and watched the thing as it flew toward them, eyeing them all like snacks.

It swallowed some of the rocks set out and blasted it's fiery molten liquid at you four.

“Today is about survival. If you get blasted... you're dead! Quick! What's the first thing you're going to need?”

“A doctor!?” You cried worriedly.

“Plus five speed!?” Gaz countered.

Ghost eyed the dragon, then around the ring. “A shield!” 

“Shields! Go!” Gobber instructed, Ghost being the first to turn and run for one. 

“Your most important piece of equipment is your shield! If you must make a choice between a sword or a shield, take the shield!” 

You rushed to grab one, picking it up and heaving up the heavy thing. You attempted to find the arm strap, searching rapidly before Gobber came over. 

Exasperation filled as he lifted it up and shoved it gently into your chest.

Graves grabbed a shield with skulls on it, Soap frowning. “Hey!” The only shield left being one with flowers.

“Take that one, that one has flowers.” Graves teased, pouting his lip at Soap. 

“But- ah!” Soap was thrown to the ground when the Gronckle’s tail hit him in the side.

“Soap, you're down.” Gobber called.

“What…??”

“Shields are good for another thing. Making lots of noise. Throw the dragon's aim off!”

You, Ghost, Graves, and Gaz all start banging your shields, the Gronckle's eyes crossing and trying to shake the disorientation off.

“All dragons have a limited number of shots. How many does a Gronckle have?” Gobber asks.

You all circle around the dragon, it's eyes trying to focus on anything. You rush back to a corner, hiding back behind one of the armor walls, holding your shield in the crack. 

Pussy.

“Uh, five??” Graves replies while he rushes away.

“No, six!” Gaz counters. 

“That's correct. Six. One for each of you.”

The Gronckle gets its surroundings back and blasts molten at Gaz’s shield, making him cry with surprise.

“Gaz, you're out!”

Gaz gulps and yells as he runs for safely of the out zone. 

Gobber notices you. “Y/n! Get in there!!”

You attempt to move away from your wall only to get a blast thrown at you. Fearing you scuffling back away, Gobber ones over and pushes you into the ring again.

Ghost faced the Gronckle as it came around again, ready to take it down, distributing his weight well. 

Graves came right up behind him, rolling his shoulders. “So, anyway I'm moving into my parents' basement. You should come by sometime to work out.”

Ghost rolls his eyes and starts to move, Graves looking surprised. “You look like you work out!”

The Gronckle fires it's shot for Ghost at Graves, hitting his shield. “Graves! You're done!”

Ghost rolled over next to you, both of you the only two left. You looked nervously over at him. He's so cool. Just a tad taller than you. Lanky but you can see he has muscle definition on his arms. 

He's just.. ah! A real Viking. That's what your dad wants you to be.

“I uh.. guess it's just you and me now huh?” You ask him nervously.

He glowers before lifting his head. “Nope, just you.” He dashes out of the way, the Gronckle fires. 

“Gah!!” You raise your shield to take the blow meant for Ghost. The shield knocks from your hand, barely missing you. 

Without shield and one shot left you run back for your shield, the Gronckle hot on your track. The shield rolls away from you across the ground, looking back and you panic seeing the dragon right there.

“One shot left! Y/n!” Gobber calls.

It manages to corner you to the wall. Face right against your chest. Your heart pounds, your limbs feel cold and rigid, and on fire all at once. 

It opens its mouth and down its throat the molten glow of its last shot, before a hook pulls it away. It blasts it's shot into the wall and you cover your head, curling up.

Gobber drags the dragon back away.

“And that's six! Go back to bed, ya overgrown sausage!” He shoves it back into the pen and closes the door.

“You'll get another chance, don't you worry.” He says to you as he walks back over, bending down. “Remember: a dragon will always- always- go for the kill.”

He grabs your arm and picks you up. You looked at the wall where the charred remains of the burn flickered down the rock incline…

Leading you back to the site of the crash, your curiosities got to you as you picked up one of the rocks on the bola. Where you'd freed the night fury from.

“So… why didn't you??” 

Why hadn't the dragon gone for the kill. You would have stabbed it, you had a weapon for crying out loud! It had every opportunity… and it didn't.

You place the bola down, standing and hopping over a log. Walking the path down to a split between two rock digs. You slipped through the small passage, which opened up. 

The tall rock face harbors trees and a small lake. It was nice… peaceful. The tall walls of rock keep it hidden and closed.

“This was stupid.” You say, moments before looking over and seeing a couple of black scales resting down the dirt incline down into the small crop.

The dragon.

You kneel down and pick one up, looking it over before hearing a roar. In an instant you jump back in fear as the Night Fury dives up over the small passage, climbing at the walls.

It's claws dig in, scrambling frantically and attempting to flap its wings and get over the edge of the rock.

You watched as it wailed and gave up, falling back and gliding awkwardly over the pond and landing on its side across on the other side.

Pant, scared but fascinated. Watched the dragon moan in sadness and pain. You hop down from the ledge, scrambling onto another rock stool and watch the night fury as it moves about.

It tries several more times to fly. Flapping its wings and hopping up but never managing to pull itself over the ledge. Crying angrily as it lands.

Your eyes widen, pulling out your sketchbook. No Night Fury had ever been recorded, you had to do this. Wow wow.

You quickly sketched up a drawing of the dragon, watching it snarl angrily. 

“Why don't you just.. fly away??” 

The dragon snarls and shoots a plasma blast at the ground.

Looking at the dragon you notice it only has one tail fin, while your drawing has two. You rub away the charcoal with your sleeve, your curiosities only growing.

The dragon tries to fly, swerving along the rock and slamming down onto the ground. It whines in pain, it's nose near the water's edge. Noticing some fish. It perks up in hope, diving its head into the water, but the fish are fast enough to escape its attempts.

It whines, still hungry.

In a moment of weakness, you feel bad for the creature. Why was this happening, why was it stuck here?? Your pencil rolled from between your fingers. 

Your eyes widened but before you could grab it it fell down the steep rock. Bouncing on the rocks and attracting the Night Fury’s attention.

You froze, and it froze. Both of you are looking at each other. It glares at you, growling low. But it looks.. curious in a way.

When you finally make your way to the Meade hall it's late. You'd spent all your time watching the night fury and becoming so fascinated that you didn't care to come back. Until now.

Walking in and seeing the other teens gathered around Gobber. Talking over strategies and what happened in the ring.

“Now, how did Ghost go wrong today??”

“I mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy. It threw off my reverse tumble.” Ghost said with some sarcasm as he poked at his food.

“Yeah, we noticed.” Soap mumbles.

“No no, you were great. That was so… “Ghost.”” Graves said, once again attempting to land an unflattering attempt.

“He's right, you have to be tough on yourselves.” Gobber notices you walk in soaked, coming to the table. “Where did Y/n go wrong?”

“Uh, they showed up??” Soap said.

“Their didn't get eaten??” Graves said.

“Their never where they should be.” Ghost said, watching you with a nasty look as you scoot yourself over to the next table, knowing you weren't welcome around them.

Gobber walked over to you. “Thank you, Ghost.” He smacks Soap and Graves in the head. “You need to live and breathe this stuff. The dragon manual.” He holds up a book. 

Leather bound with a dragon symbol burned into the front, tied with string to keep old pages together.

He cleared a part of the table and put the book down. “Everything we know about every dragon we know of.”

Thunder crackled overhead, Gobber sighed, knowing lightning to come. “No attacks tonight. Study up for tomorrow.” 

“Wait, you mean, read??” Graves frowned, crossing his arms.

“Well maybe it would do you some good.” Gaz spoke up.

“Shut your mouth, I don't need to read nothing! Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you about??”

“Oh! I've read it like, seven times. There's this water dragon that sprays boiling water at your face. And- And there's this other one that buries itself for like a week-”

“Yeah, that sounds great. So there's a chance I was going to read it…” Soap starts.

“But not now.” Graves says, causing Soap to glare at him a little.

Even if they all were irritable brats at the age of sixteen, they all had some kind of friendship with each other. Some kind… more than they had with you. Because you're a loser. 

Your eyes drift back over to Ghost who hadn't said a word about the book while the others bicker. Dragging his knuckles along the side of his tankard. 

You could see the scars that started just before his wrist guards hid them away. Occasional Knicks and scratches along his arms and biceps. 

Must have been from falls or accidents because he'd not properly fought a dragon or a hunter…

The others move from the table to go back home. You get up, going to the book by where Ghost sat. “So I guess we’ll… share??”

“Read it.” He pushed the book, getting up and walking off.

“Oh, uh, all mine, then. Wow. So, ok, I'll see you…” You looked up as the door shut. They were already gone…

The hall was dark with only you in it. You sat down at the table with a candle and opened the book.

Dragon classifications. Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class.

You started to read. Reading through the book, the endings of each of the entries being extremely deadly: kill on sight.

Each page. Extremely deadly: kill on sight.

You continued to flip the pages. “Burns its victims, buries its victims, chokes its victims, turns its victims inside-out.”

“Extremely dangerous, extremely dangerous, kill on sight, kill on sight, kill on sight…” 

Through every page of every class. Until you got to the end.

You flipped the last page. At the top it said Night Fury. The page being otherwise almost completely empty.

“Night Fury: Speed, unknown. Size, unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. Never engage this dragon.” 

You hesitated on the last part. “Your only chance: Hide and pray it does not find you.”

You pulled out your sketchbook, dropping the sketch of the Night Fury on the page. You had found a Night Fury. It had let you close. It .. hadn't killed you.

You stood the next day in the training ring, in the middle of a training session. Holding your shield and axe, you shifted from one foot to the other. Surrounded by a maze of tall builds all put together for the Deadly Nadder to find and kill you.

“You know, I just happened to notice the book had nothing on Night Furies. Is there another book? Or a sequel? Maybe a little Night Fury pamphlet?”

The Deadly Nadder jumps atop one of the lofts, firing at you, taking off the head of your axe. “Gah!”

“Focus y/n! You're not even trying!” Gobber scolds. 

“Today is all about ATTACK! Nadders are quick and light on their feet! Your job is to be quicker and lighter!” Gobber continues.

Gaz gasped, running away as the Nadder searches him out. Throwing spikes from its tail at him, sinking into the wall above his head and his shield.  “Ah!! I'm really starting to question your teaching methods!!”

Gobber, undeterred, continues. “Look for it's Blindspot. Every dragon has one. Find it, hide in it, and strike.”

You rush by as Soap turns a corner, coming face to snout with the Nadder. He gasps, holding in a breath as it moves its head, attempting to stay in the Blindspot. 

“Steamin’ hell… this thing stinks.” He wheezes. “Do you ever bathe??” He gags, trying to cover his mouth.

The Nadder turns its head, growling and spitting fire at him. “Ah!”

“Blind spot? Yes. Deaf spot? Not so much.” Gobber grins, leaning his face against his palm as he watched from above the chain net. 

Seeing Ghost running through the intricate maze, you hanging on his tail like a mouse finding safety with the cat.

You pause, looking up at Gobber. “Hey, so how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?”

“No one's ever seen one and loved to tell the tale.” He snaps his fingers. “Now get in there!!”

“Y/n.” Ghost whispers your name. You turn to see Ghost kneeled down by one of the platforms, Graves behind him, nodding to you to be quiet. You skip over, hiding against the wall.

Ghost pokes his head out, seeing the Nadder coming around. He hides again, taking a deep breath and preparing himself before rolling forward on his shield. 

He pushes off, hiding behind the next wall, Graves following and doing the same. When you attempt it, the shield does not follow your small body through the roll, trapping you against the ground.

The Nadder sees you, and runs. “Gah!” You scramble up and run. The Nadder roars and flies up on top of the walls, jumping down in front of Ghost. 

He readied himself but Graves pushed him aside. “Watch out babe, I'll take care of this.”

“Hey!” Ghost growls at him, seething at him as he throws his weapon, completely missing.

The Nadder growls, Ghost glaring at him. “The sun was in my eyes, Ghost.” The Nadder roars, Ghost making a run for it away from that meat head. 

“What do you want me to do?? Block out the sun? I could do that, but I don't have time!” He dodges the attack, running after Ghost as the Nadder makes chase.

Graves continues rambling, looking back and making a swift turn down another aisle. Ghost looks back, gasping and crying as the Nadder is seconds away from him. He dashes around the corner and turns, slamming into the wall.

The Nadder follows, roaring at him as Ghost scrambles and runs, the walls starting to knock over from the collision.

You were still rambling to Gobber like an idiot. “Like so they take the daytime off?? Like a cat. Has anyone ever seen one, napping??”

Gobber looks up from his bored expression as Graves run by. 

“Y/n!” 

The walls of the maze collapse, the Nadder snapping at Ghost’s heels as he jumps up across one of the falling walls. He jumps to another wall, and you're right in his landing path.

“Y/n!!” He yells, and jumps. You scramble back, falling on the ground as he lands with a thud on top of you.

“Ooh,” Soap teases. 

Ghost glares at you, shoving your face away and attempting to stand, his axe lodged in your shield. 

“Hey, why- let me… why don't you…?” He shoves your chest down, standing up, his knee between your legs causing you to gasp in pain. 

He does not care. Grabbing his axe angrily trying to pry it away. The Nadder turns back, readying its shot for you and Ghost.

Ghost sees it and grows more panicked, grabbing his axe, his foot landing on your cheek. “Ow! Ow! Ow!!”

He attempts to pull his axe away as the Nadder comes closer.

He finally pries it from your arm and swings his axe at the Nadder’s face, your shield splintering. 

The Nadder cries in pain and turns, walking off. Ghost pants, looking off in panic as he grips his axe.

“Well done, Ghost.” Gobber commends.

Ghost doesn't respond, the interaction having a grip on his core. Before his fear replaced with anger and he turned to you, curled up in the fetal position.

“Is this some kind of a joke to you!? Our parents' war is about to become ours!” He points his axe at you. “Figure out which side you're on.” 

Back to trying again with the Night Fury. You head down to the cove, bringing a new shield. Propping it between two rocks and tossing a fish into the open. You slide under it, crawling on your hands and knees.

Once on the other side you attempt to pry the shield out but it's stuck. You sigh, heading over to the fish and picking it up by under the fin. 

You look around, slowly walking into the open. Feeling slightly panicky, but you've had decent luck with this dragon so far. What with it not eating you the first time. 

Perhaps it was wise enough to know you weren't worth it. You'd be more of a chew toy than a hefty meal.

You walk along the pond, looking around for the night fury, aware it had eyes on you minutes earlier. It peers out from a rock as it watches you pass. It's eyes focus on you, tail swishing.

Finally it comes down from the rock, and you see it from your peripheral. You gasp, gripping the fish tight as the dragon comes down and around, sniffing the snack in your hand, growling at you.

You hold the fish out. Would it take it?? It cranes its body sideways like a cat, tilting its head and sniffing the treat. 

It's pupils softening before growling and jumping back. Your hand retreats with the fish, gasping softly. 

You pull your sweater open, your knife tucked into your clothes. When you reach for it, the dragon snarls. 

You gasp, feeling your heartbeat picking up again, slowly removing the knife and dropping it.

The dragon's ears go down, growling away, and you kick the knife away into the pond.

Afterwhich, the dragon relaxes, pupils softening again. It sits, ear flicking. It continues to hold its body arched like a cat as it comes over when you extend the fish again.

“Ah, Toothless.” You say, seeing his gummy mouth and lack of teeth. “I could have sworn you had-” His teeth suddenly snap out and he snatches the fish from your hands. 

Your eyes widen as he scarfs down the snack. “-Teeth…”

He enjoys his snack before looking back at you, lowering his head and coming over.

“Ah, ah.. uh, I don't have any more.” You stammer, backing up and tripping over your heel back against a rock.

Toothless gurgled, looking at you before starting to regurgitate his food. You tense up, cringing a little when he spits up part of the fish in your lap.

“Ugh…”

He sits back, looking at you expectantly. His eyes move from the fish, then to you when you do nothing.

You sigh, hesitantly taking a bite of the food, retching it up, putting a hand over your mouth and forcing yourself to swallow it.

Toothless perks up, you shudder and look up at him, attempting to smile after that…. Delicious cuisine.

You smile awkwardly. Toothless frowns, before attempting to smile back. His lip twitching and showing his gummy smile that he gives you. 

Your eyes widen a little. This… was not a kill on sight dragon. This wasn't something you'd slaughter for sport. 

He was smiling at you. Why, from all the dragon's you'd ever been taught about, the most deadly was smiling at you. Sharing his food…

You slowly stand, extending your hand, to which Toothless’ smile drops. He growls, and flies off, crying as he spirals against the wind, only able to drift and hit the ground a ways away. 

He huffs against the dirty, slowly getting up and shaking himself off. He walks over to a small hill, blasting a controlled amount of heat against the ground, charring it into a nice warm bed.

He looks up at a bird in its nest, chirping and flying away. And then… he sees you. How unsightly. No one wants to see that before bed.

He groans and curls up. Folding in his wings and wrapping his tail around his face to keep him well hidden and secured.

You smile, inching a little closer. You boldly reach out to touch his tail, but Toothless is one step ahead. He lifts his tail, huffing at you. 

You quickly stand, wobbling on shaky legs and awkwardly walking away from him. Toothless stares dully, getting up and moving from his spot, somewhere you surely couldn't get him.

Hanging from… a tree. Such an odd dragon.

You let him be. Sitting on a rock a couple feet away. Wasting away the time until the evening rolled around and Toothless slowly came out of his nap.

Moving his tail and looking over at you, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

He gurgled, hopping down and quietly coming over to see what you were doing.

You rested your cheek against your fist, aimlessly drawing a little figure of Toothless in the dirt.

Toothless watches curiously, purring a growl and getting up on his back legs. He waddled away. You look back when you hear the snapping of a tree branch. 

Toothless comes back with his own drawing stick, purring and trailing it around in the dirt.

You watch him in shock and surprise as toothless drags the stick around, smiling and clutching it tight in his mouth. 

He purrs as he swirls and twists around, finally finishing his creation of spirals and mapping trails between you and him.

You finally stand, looking around at what he's created. All the lines and the paths. You walk out toward one of the lines. When your foot steps on it, Toothless growls. 

It shocks you a little, looking over at him and quickly taking your foot off the line. Toothless raises his head, purring at you in response.

You put your foot on the line, and he growls.

Taking it off, Toothless purred.

You did it a couple of times before understanding. It's trust. Toothless is offering trust. You smile softly, stepping over the line, aware of where your feet when as he stepped around and over the lines. 

Finally stopping with your back to Toothless. You sink a little, feeling a warm breath fan across the nape of your neck and down your back.

You turn and look up at him. Toothless’ gaze is soft. You pant softly, reaching your hand up. Toothless pulls his head away slightly, growling a little.

You pull your hand back, looking into his eyes. So you turn away. Closing your eyes and extending your hand again. 

Toothless’ eyes soften. He looks at your palm, leaning his head forward and hesitating, before gently leaning his nose into your palm, closing his eyes.

You exhale softly in surprise, feeling it. Toothless… trusts you. This was trust.

You looked up at Toothless. His eyes narrow again. He pulled away, wriggling his nose and huffing before dashing off.

The incident didn't leave your mind. Even when you went home, you couldn't face anyone after the thought of Toothless. 

Sat atop the watch tower with Gobber and the others, roasting food over the crackling fire while he went on about a tale.

You weren't particularly listening, your gaze focused on your fingers, slowly turning the stick that was jabbed through your fish.

“...And with one twist, he took my hand, and swallowed it whole!” Gobber waved his stick, with a whole chicken on the end of it. 

“And I saw the look on his face: I was delicious. He must have passed the word, because it wasn't a month before another one of them took my leg.”

Gaz frowned in concentration, digging into his food. “Isn't it weird to think that your hand was inside a dragon?” He motioned one of the meat legs toward Ghost, who glared and shifted away.

What was that idiots problem. Ghost was close to biting his arm off.

“Like if your mind was still in control of it, you could have killed the dragon from the inside by... crushing his heart, or something.” Gaz continued, Graves staring at him from across the firepit as it grew silent.

“Right…” Graves muttered. “I swear, I'm so angry right now! I'll avenge your beautiful hand and your beautiful foot. I'll chop off the legs of every dragon I fight. With my face!” 

“Un-unh. It's the wings and the tails you really want. If it can't fly, it can't get away. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.” Gobber said, snapping a leg off his chicken.

Your eyes slowly widen. Toothless. Toothless was down. That's the first thing you'd listened to all night. Pulled from your stupor of pointless thoughts.

Gobber yawned and got up. “Alright. I'm off to bed. You should be, too. Tomorrow we get to the big boys. Slowly but surely making our way up to the Monstrous Nightmare. But who'll win the honor of killing it?”

“It's gonna be me! It's my destiny, see??” Soap rolled up his sleeve, showing his arm.

“Woah, your mom let you get a tattoo??”

“It's not a tattoo, it's a birthmark.”

“I've known you literally since we were babies, and I've never seen that.” Graves replies. 

“Yes, it was. You've just never seen me from the left side until now.”

After hearing what Gobber had said about dragons, your interests turn to the forge. If you're going to get Toothless out of there alive you'd need to help him. 

It wouldn't be on his own…

Ghost watched you, cold gaze following as you walked away from the fire and back down the watch tower. 

You headed to the forge quickly, pulling out your sketchbook and laying it out on the table. Alright, now for something that could help Toothless. Time to get to work.

You worked long into the night. Heating the forge and putting together a device that you knew would help. You worked until your eyes were heavy and the sunrise poked over the edge of the water.

Finally putting out the flames and grabbing what you could, you headed back to the house. Stumbling inside and slumping into your hard bed for just an ounce of sleep.

After a bit of rest and recuperating you headed out a few hours later, ready to help Toothless. Your plan was foolproof. And you brought along a giant basket of fish just for it.

When you got back to the cove, Toothless was waiting for you. “Hey Toothless, I brought you some fish.” You set down the basket and kicked it over with your foot. “We've got some salmon, some nice Icelandic cod…”

Toothless began to sniff through the fish, nudging through to find the good stuff.

“And a whole smoked eel…” You slowly stepped around the pile when toothless growled. He backed up, snarling at the pile. 

You tilted your head and reached in, pulling out the eel. Toothless saw it and expanded his wings in defense, roaring loudly.

“No, no no no! It's ok!” You quickly threw the eel away and placed out your hand to him, your contraption firmly under the other.

He huffed and you wiped your hand on your coat. “Yeah, I don't much like eel either…”

And Toothless went sniffing through the pile of fish again, wolfing down a few without wasting time.

“That's it…” you slowly backed up behind him. “That's it. Just stick with the good stuff.” 

You slowly set up the wing you'd made. “And don't you mind me I'll be back here…  minding my own business…”

You attempted to wrangle Toothless’ tail. Strapping the belts around it as he dug around the basket. Having to sit on his tail and gently spread open the fabric.

When you finally got it hooked on, you sat back. “Hey, doesn't look half bad.”

Toothless’ head perked up as soon as he felt it. A weight on his other tail. He slowly patted his feet into the ground. He could fly… he could fly.

Toothless spread his wings, and took off. “Woah! Whooaa!!” You gasped, seeing the ground suddenly falling away from you. You leaned down, grabbing and holding onto Toothless’ tail tightly.

“No no no!!” You cried as Toothless darted for the coves edge. You watched wide eyed, your adrenaline pumping.

The tail had closed and was flailing in the wind, Toothless starting to lose air. 

Oh fuck oh fuck. You managed to pry one sweaty hand from his tail and pull it open. Toothless caught air and zoomed up into the sky. 

“Oh, my…! It's working!!” You cried as Toothless flew away from the island. He twisted in the air, flying back over the cove and back across the pond. 

“Yes! Yes! I did it!”

Toothless looked back. What the?? Why is this toothpick still hanging on to me!? 

He twisted upside down and flicked his tail, tossing you into the pond and flew away. 

Losing control of himself, he shrieked as he slammed back into the ground across the lake. He looked at the folded in tail angrily. 

You swam above the water furiously, smiling. “Yeah!” You splashed.

The next day at training you were faced with the Hideous Zippleback. Teamed up with Gaz, your goal was to work together to disarm the two headed dragon of its abilities.

One head spreading flammable gas, the other head lights that gas.

“Razor sharp, serrated teeth that inject venom for pre-digestion. Prefers ambush attack, by crushing its victims-”

You frowned at Gaz, gripping your bucket tight. “Would you please stop that!?”

As more gas filled the arena, Graves and Soap turned back to back, looking around for any sign of the dragon.

“If that dragon shows either of his faces, I'm gonna- there!” Graves spotted something through the gas, both him and Soap frantically throwing their buckets of water.

The gas cleared, and there stood hell itself. A soaking. Wet. Ghost.

Oh.

“Oh it's just Ghost, we thought you were a dragon!” Soap shrinks back, smiling like an awkward idiot. 

“Well, clearly,” he snapped coldly. “I am not!”

“Well, your butts big like a dragon.”

Graves hit Soap with his elbow. “Not that there's nothing wrong with a…” Ghost was already marching toward him.

“dragon-esque figure- Ow!” 

Ghost punched him hard in the nose, sending him back. He landed on his butt, before he could get up something snatched him into the gas.

Ghost put his arm in front of Soap. “Wait.” He whispered. 

There was a cry and Graves ran from the smoke. “Ow! Ow!”

Gaz gulped, you and him still back to back. “Chances of survival are dwindling in the single digits now…”

One of the dragon's heads peered out from the smoke and came toward you two. Sharp yellow eyes trained on Gaz.

“Woah, Woah!” He scrambled back as it cornered him, and he threw his bucket of water onto it.

The dragon rippled a growl, gas billowing from beyond its maw. 

“Oh… wrong head.” He smiled awkwardly. It drenched Gaz in gas, Gobber calling out for him, and Gaz made a run for it.

Leaving you the last one with a water bucket. Both of the heads now coming around, the dragon facing you from both sides. 

One of the heads created sparks between its teeth.

“Now y/n!” Gobber said.

You raised your water bucket. “Eh.” You threw it up, the water barely hitting the dragon. “Oh come on…”

You. Are completely… and utterly useless… be thankful you have a dragon now or you would not survive let me tell you. 

The dragon surrounded you. “Y/n!” Gobber yelled, coming over.

But I admit, what you lack in physical strength you make up in your capacity to learn. 

Standing up slowly, the dragon snarled and whipped back. You pulled the eel from your vest, holding it out to them.

“Back! Back!” You snapped, the dragon snarling and backing away from the eel.

“That's right! Back in your cage!” You corralled it back in, slamming the door shut with all the might you had. Which isn't much.

The others watched. Ghost’s signature glare burning into your skin. This was fucking ridiculous.

You clapped your hands together. “So uh… are we done??” They all stared at you wordlessly. “Because I uh.. I got some stuff to do so I'll just… yeah. See you tomorrow!”

You smiled, spending the rest of the day at the forge. Creating some more things you could use in your adventures with Toothless.

Putting together a saddle.

You brought it to Toothless and when he saw it he smiled. Perking up and running away. “Hey!” You laughed, running after him. 

Toothless gurgled and fled around the ground as you chased after him.

After getting the saddle on you learned pretty quickly you'd need some way to hold on. After a failed fly test force Toothless to panic and throw you off his back into the water again. 

No problem, just a little waist retainer was all that was needed. Hooking it onto the saddle and having another go.

The second time was slightly better. You'd tied a rope around your ankle that would help you pull the tail fin open. 

Toothless roared when you tried again, losing control in the air just after getting out of the cove. 

“Hold hold ha!!” You cried as Toothless squirmed and fell into a bed of tall dragon nip. 

You stumbled, looking around the tall grass and going back to see Toothless rolling around comfortably in the grass. Relaxing fully in total relaxation.

Huh. Odd. 

You picked up some of the nip, looking at it curiously. Again, it's best you have a bigger head than bigger biceps. 

When faced with a Gronckle for the next training exercise, you ended things quickly. It crashed into Graves and went for you. You held up the dragon nip you had taken and it immediately slowed down.

The Gronckle crashed to the ground and you rubbed the dragon nip against its nose. 

The villagers gathered around the top of the pit to watch you in awe, the village elder also noticing how much you'd suddenly improved your dragon prowess in recent days. 

After which all the teens were gathered around you. Well, almost all of them.

“Wow, how did you do that??” Soap asked.

“I never would have thought about that-” Gaz piped up.

“I've never even seen a Gronckle do that!” Graves blurted. 

Ghost trained behind, watching as you laughed awkwardly. “Oh I uh, I left my axe in the ring.” You turned, bumping into Ghost as you did. 

He jumped, pushing you lightly and you went around him. “Sorry, sorry.” 

They watched, the others smiling excitement. Ghost glaring down your whole existence.

Spending more time with Toothless, you began to introduce the fondness of scratches and pets. Scratching the patches of scales along his neck and ear fins.

Toothless groaned, leaning up into it, turning his head and closing his eyes. You scratched under his chin and he went limp, falling to the ground with a content exhale. 

The next day, back in training. 

Ghost yelled, throwing his axe at the deadly Nadder that turned, running back over to you two. It roared loudly, pushing Ghost to the ground, skinning his upper arm. 

You readied yourself, quickly dropping the axe as the Nadder ran to you. 

Ghost scrambled back up, grabbing his axe. His heart pounded as he lifted it and ran. You noticed him and turned quickly to the Nadder.

You reached up, scratching behind its ear, down to its chin and right… there.

The Nadder dropped, happily out for a nap.

Ghost panted, lowering his axe in disbelief. You smiled at him and shrugged.

This continued on. Spending time with Toothless you learned he was just like a cat. 

Using a hammer to shine a light across the ground, you watched with amusement as Toothless chased after it. Hopping and purring to catch it.

Training faced you with the Terrible Terror. Which admittedly you didn't expect it to be as small as it was.

“Meet the Terrible Terror.”

A small door attached to the main door opened, like a cat door. The tiny dragon scuttling out, licking its eyeball, staring at you all.

“Aw, it's like the size of my- ah!!” Soap jumped back as the Terror jumped at him. You all scattered as Soap landed on the ground, the terror chewing on his nose. 

“Oh I am hurt, I am very much hurt!”

The Terror perked up, seeing a light moving across the ground. It flicked its tail, smiling and rushing from Soap after the light. 

You guided it with the shiny part of your shield back into its small hut, closing the door with your foot.

“Wow, he's better than you ever were.” Soap rubs his nose, looking at Ghost.

After which you spent more time working on a harness and a better string attachment for the tail fin.

When rushed through the woods up ran into Ghost, throwing his axe into different trees, training his aim.

He raised his axe, pausing when he saw you. You two looked at each other, and then you rushed off. You couldn't let him see Toothless. 

When Ghost turned to follow after you, you had somehow already disappeared. 

Fuck!

You began to work on the positions of your contraption with Toothless. Strapping him to a tree stump so you could write down the number of each foot turn.

Able to move your heel and shift the position of the tailfin through the rope.

“Position one.” You shifted the lever, writing it down on your little piece of paper. “And position two.” He shifts it, Toothless' wings catching air and the rope snapped. 

“Gah!” You gasped as you were thrown back to the ground. 

Toothless groaned and rolled over, pulling you up by the waist, the waist retainer stuck to the clip of Toothless' saddle.

“Oh brother…”

Forced to drag Toothless back to the village while still tangled together, you snuck past a few guards and led him into the smithing shop. 

You looked around for something to pry the hook open, Toothless shoving his nose in a basket. When he flicked it off, it hit one of the weapons on the wall, causing noise.

Ghost who was passing, heading back, begrudgingly home, heard it.

He walked over to the smithing window. “Y/n?? Are you in there??”

Both you and Toothless looked up. You quickly dropped what you were doing and pushed yourself out the smithing window, looking at him. 

“Ghost- hi, Ghost. Hi, hi… hi Ghost.” You fumbled with the waist trainer. Toothless sniffing around and pulling you back against the doors.

Toothless looked around, spotting a sheep. The sheep spotted him, immediately rushing away. 

“I normally don't care what people do but you're acting weird.”. Ghost points an accusatory finger. “Well, weirder.”

You huffed, stumbling back. The trainer lifted you off your feet. Ghost stared at you as the doors of the smithing window gave in and sucked you back. Ghost immediately rushed over and opened it, seeing the smelter empty. 

You and Toothless sneaking away and flying off. That. Was. Way too close…

That day was the day your father arrived back. One of the boats with several holes in it and barely survived. Their search for a nest of dragons once again produced no fruit.

Gobber was there when Stoick arrived back. “Well, I trust you found the nest at least?”

“Not even close.” He growled, walking past with a fixed frown.

“Oh. Excellent.” Gobber said sarcastically, following Stoick. 

“I hope you had a little more success than me.”

“Well, if by success, you mean that your parenting troubles are over with, then... yes.” He took a basket of supplies over his shoulder while he walked.

Various different Vikings congratulating Stoick on his kid actually becoming vikinglike. Can you imagine that eh?

“Their gone??” Stoick asked.

“Yeah... most afternoons. But who can blame them? I mean the life of a celebrity's very rough. They can barely walk through the village without being swarmed by his new fans.” Gobber replied.

“Y/n??”

“Who would have thought it eh? He has this… way with the beasts.”

Stoick’s eyes widened. Yes. What he'd been waiting for your entire life!

Off somewhere near the edge of the island, you were busy with Toothless. Having written up your complete cheat sheet, you secured the small paper with all of your positions to Toothless' saddle. Slowly gliding through the air.

“Alright bud we're gonna take this nice and slow” You looked over the sheet. “Here we go, here we go. Position…” 

“Three. No… four.” You looked down at the foot pedal and positioned it, the tail fin opening. Toothless looked down at it, wiggling his head and getting used to it. 

The gentle glide turned into a slow fly, Toothless guiding with your help through the winds, his wings catching air flawlessly.

Toothless flew you up into the air, passing some clouds. You held on, looking back at the tail fin. “Alright. It's go time, it's go time.”

Toothless roared and dove down toward the sea stacks littering around the island ocean.

“Come on buddy! Come on buddy!” You encourage. You held onto the saddle tightly when Toothless flew down over the water, the waves lapping up to touch his belly as you went by. 

You looked up as you passed through two connected sea stacks, watching the birds startle and fly off. “Yes, it worked!” 

The tail was holding up so far.

You flew up away from the water, attempting to make a turn and throwing Toothless into a sea stack. He growled and flapped violently. “Sorry!” You winced.

Barely recovering you saw another stack, attempting to pull him up sharply and hitting another. He growled again. “It was my fault.” You cringed.

He hit you with his ear. “Yeah yeah, I'm on it. Position four- uh, three.” You shifted the foot pedal and took off into the sky. Soaring up over the sea stacks and into the fluffy clouds.

“Yeah!! Aw this is nice. The wind in my -” the paper attached to the saddle flew off and into the wind. “Cheat sheet!” You reached back to try and grab it. 

“Stop!!” 

Toothless flapped his wings, halting as best he could, sending you forward. The hook on the waist belt and the saddle came off. 

“No!!” Toothless saw you and panicked, falling back and scrambled. “No!! Oh no!!” You yelled as you fell and spiraled in the sky down toward the sea.

Toothless roared when he saw you falling faster than him. “Oh, gods! Oh, no!!” You cried your lungs out.

“Alright! You gotta kind angle yourself!” You flipped onto your back, trying to help Toothless. “Okay, no, no, no... come back down towards me! Come back down-- YOW!” Toothless’ tail smacked you as you fell. 

You flipped onto your front, reaching out to grab the hook on the saddle, just out of reach. 

Toothless wailed and cried when you finally grabbed it, managing to pull yourself on. Reattaching and gripping the saddle, angled downward. 

The cheat sheet hit you in the face and you grabbed it, putting it between your teeth. You zoomed straight toward a downward plain of trees, trying to pull Toothless back up.

He roared and whined, zooming down at an angle over the trees, his wings catching wind. As you zoomed down to the bottom you pulled the cheat sheet again. With all the wind you couldn't read anything on it.

Looking between the sheet and some sea stacks, you tossed the sheet,grabbing the saddle and readjusting the foot pedal. 

Toothless roared and zoomed to the side, making the corner before you could hit the stones.

You zoomed through the various passages, shifting the foot pedal again through the fog. Coming shooting out the other side into the clear open air. 

You panted, blood pumping with adrenaline. “Yeah!!” You raised your arms. Toothless smiled and shit a blast into the air, ruining your celebration. “Come on…”

You were pummeled into the fire, pushing your hair back and covering your clothes in specs of dirt and char. 

You flew with Toothless some more, your adventure leading you back to a sea stack, there you got some fish and made a small fire.

Toothless laid down, retching up one of his fish heads while you leaned back against him, cooking your own dinner over the fire.

“Uh, no thanks, I'm good.” You refused the fish head. 

Some small dragons spotted you and flew over to your little set up. Those tiny Terrible Terrors. Toothless growled, protecting his fish as they came over, snapping at one.

You watched as one of them grabbed the head of the fish Toothless had belched up and shot at another dragon who tried to take it.

Toothless watches unimpressed, when his food started moving. One of the dragon's trying to sneak a fish from his pile. Toothless growled, grabbing the fish in his teeth and pulling it back. 

The Terror whined, causing toothless to bellow a low laugh. 

The Terror squeaked and stood up, snapping at Toothless. 

You looked between the two as it stood up on its back legs and inhaled. Before it could do anything Toothless shot a small blast at it, inflating it and it puffed out smoke, whining. 

You chuckled. “Not so fireproof on the inside are ya?” You tossed one of your fish. “Here ya go.” It scuttled over and wolfed it down quickly. 

Licking its eyeball and cautiously wandering over to you. It whines, curling up beside you, purring softly.

“Everything we know about you guys… It's wrong.”

Unfortunately it won't let me post this much so to read the rest of it please see the reblog I did for the rest of the post. ❤

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #httyd #httyd x cod crossover #httyd/cod #call of duty/how to train your dragon #how to train your dragon #how to train your dragon 1 script #platonic x reader #reader insert #cod crossover #fandom crossover #script fic #two part fic #simon ghost riley x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #toothless with reader

[thetriumphantpanda]

Ghost of You | J. Miller (Chapter Seven)

Series Summary / Grief is a strange thing. In the beginning it had been all-consuming. There wasn’t a moment of the day where you didn’t cry, didn’t ask yourself why it couldn’t have been you instead. And no-one ever explains the guilt you feel when it isn’t anymore. When it’s just a dull ache and you can finally breathe again, when you can start letting people get close to you again. People like Joel Miller.

Pairing / Joel Miller x Widow F!Reader

Word Count / 4.4k

Warnings / as usual, not much to warn here apart from soft!Joel being incredible soft and sweet, some very brief allusions to smut but nothing explicit as well as mentions of alcohol and food, mentions of loss/death as well.

Authors Note /  I won't lie to you but this chapter was a struggle. I have THE PERFECT idea on what I want to happen for the next two/three chapters, so this really is just a filler, working to set up the drama that is about to come your way, so I'm sorry if this is boring after such a long wait for it to arrive with you. It's crunch time for me with university deadlines too, so I'm just trying my best to get through everything - so it might be a bit of a wait between updates for the next month or so. As always, if you liked this, please consider dropping comments, reblogging or popping over to my ask box with some love and as always, thank you for your continued support of my work. Love y'all.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It’s late and Joel is stretched out in his living room, feet up on the coffee table with his guitar on his lap. He chuckles to himself that he’s got his feet on the table when he knows if Ellie tried to do this, he’d be swatting her legs and telling her off, but she’s not here, so he thinks he can get away being rebellious tonight. 

He’s thoughtlessly strumming at the strings when he hears a tentative knock at his door. He thinks for a second that he might have misheard, he’s fairly deaf in that ear after all, but a few seconds later there’s a louder knock at the door, so he sets the guitar back on its stand near the wall and heads to open it. 

Of all the people he expected to see at his front door at this time of night, it hadn’t been you. He can tell almost immediately that you’ve been crying. Your eyes a bloodshot and he can see redness of tear tracks down your face. 

“Is everything alright, sweet pea?” He asks, he can’t help but soften immediately into your company. 

“Can I come in?” You murmur. 

“Of course you can.” He smiles, that warm smile that he always has on his face when you’re around. 

He moves from the door, stepping aside to let you in. When he’s closed the door, he finds you looking around his living room. It’s not quite as bare as it had been weeks ago when they first moved in. Ellie’s been drawing all sorts of pictures that they’ve stuck to the walls, and he’s been trading here and there for things to make it feel more homely, like the lamp on the side table, which is bathing the room in a warm, orange glow. 

He comes up behind you and places his hand on the small of your back, just like he had done when you’d gone to the bar together. It startles you a little, and he’s muttering a quick sorry for frightening you, “Why don’t you sit down?” He asks quietly, “I can get you a drink if you’d like?” 

You sit yourself on the edge of the sofa whilst he’s looking through his kitchen cabinets, “I can do coffee, whiskey or water?” He calls out from behind a cabinet door. 

“Coffee,” You say, but for some reason your voice breaks and it comes out of your mouth in little more than a whisper, you clear your throat and try again, “Sorry, coffee please, if that’s okay.” 

“Course it is sweet pea.” He’s speaking over his shoulder as he’s making up a pot. 

In no time he’s sat on the opposite end of the sofa, his own mug of coffee in hand. You look down into yours and you can see he’s splashed some milk into it and your heart swells in your chest. You’d never told him you like milk in your coffee, in fact, you’re pretty sure you’ve only drunk it that way in front of him once. Why is this man so observant that he remembers all the tiny details of you? His own mug is what catches your attention next, even in his hands it’s large, white with what looks to be a hand-painted owl on it, with a big ring of reddish-brown paint along the rim. 

“You really interested in owls or are you tryin’ to avoid somethin’, sweet pea?” 

“Just never pegged you as a patterned mug kinda guy, is all.” 

“I’m nothing if not full of surprises,” He chuckles, “Truth be told I’m not really, it was just the biggest mug in the house.” 

A comfortable silence sits between the two of you as you sip at your coffee, “I’m sorry, Joel, about the other night.” 

“That’s okay, sweet pea, it’s me who should be sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep a mark or anythin’.” 

You shake your head, “You didn’t overstep anything Joel,” You sigh, “In that moment I wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to be perfectly honest it’s all I’ve wanted to do since, but I need to be honest with you.” 

“Okay, shoot, I’m listening.” He’s turned his body on the sofa a little bit, he’s looking directly at you now. 

“You’re a good man Joel, and I don’t say that lightly, and you kiss like your life depends on it, but when I closed my eyes all I could see Mark, and that’s not what you deserve, you deserve a woman who only ever see’s you.” 

“But sweet pea,” He sighs, “You’re the only woman I want.” 

You sip your coffee, “Can I ask why?” You murmur, “I just don’t know what it is you could possibly want from sad, little old me.” 

“I want to make you happy,” He shrugs, looking at you, “There have been these glimpses I’ve had of you, when you smile, or when you talk to Ellie about your life before, or when you reminisce about Mark and you become this beacon of light, you glow sweet pea, and I would do anythin’ in this world to be the person that does that to you every day.” 

You can feel a single tear slip from your eye, what on earth had you done in this world to deserve this man at your feet? 

“Listen to me,” He’s put his coffee on the table and moved closer to you, his big, warm hand is on your knee, “I’m not going to pretend that I can be him, no-one is ever going to be him for you again, but I want to try and be somethin’ different for you, I’m not going to try and replace him, just add to him,” He pauses before he adds, “If you’ll let me.” 

Your hand slips over his own on your knee and you squeeze it, “I want it Joel, Lord knows I want it, but I don’t know how long it’s going to take, before it’s you I see when I close my eyes and not him, will you be patient with me?” 

“Of course I will, sweet pea,” He breathes, “I’ll give you all the time in the world,” He’s turned his palm up so you’re holding hands now, “And it’s not a bad thing, y’know?” You make a sound for him to carry on talking, “Still seeing him – sometimes Ellie’ll do somethin’ and it’ll be exactly like Sarah, and I’ll go right back to standing in my house in Austin with her, keeps her memory alive, right?” 

“I get you,” You smile at him, “I’m so grateful for you, Joel, I hope you know that.” 

You reach out a hand and he reaches his own out to gather your hand in his. He’s scooting along the seats of the couch, coming to rest just far enough away that your legs aren’t touching, but close enough for you to feel the heat emanating from his body, “I know, sweet pea, I’m grateful for you too.” 

You turn to properly look at him for the first time that night. In the dim glow of his living room lamp he’s just as devastating as he always is. The dreamy chocolate of his eyes, the slope of his nose, that full bottom lip that you want to kiss. He’s reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, before his impossibly large hand is running through the hair to rest on the back of your head, “Can I maybe try again?” He asks quietly. 

You don’t need to ask what he means, not with the way his eyes dart from yours to your lips and then back up again, “I’d really like that.” 

He uses the hand resting at the back of your head to pull you gently towards him, you watch closely as his eyes flutter close as his lips press to yours. You’re almost frightened to close your own after what happened before, but his other arm is snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him and you can’t help but follow his movements, letting your own close as you tentatively open your mouth to him. 

There is something undeniably different about this kiss compared to the last. This time when you close your eyes, you try and focus on what you can feel. You can feel Joel’s palm resting on the back of your head, fingers twisting into your hair. You can feel your hand, placed on his knee to steady you and the rough denim of his jeans beneath your palm. You can feel his lips pull back from yours just a touch before he puts them back on yours, capturing your bottom lip between his own before he sucks your bottom lip, just a little. 

Then you focus on what you can hear. The deep breathing of Joel through his nose as he kisses you, the slight breeze that rustles the trees outside his home. The sound of a whimper from your lips when he pulls all the way back. You open your eyes and he’s still close enough that if you moved forward, you could capture his lips back, but he’s searching your face for signs you’re okay, so you don’t. 

“I’m fine,” You reassure him, “You know, you’re really good at that.” 

“I am?” He asks, and you can see how he flushes a little, “Gotta admit I’m a little out of practice.” 

“You’d never know,” You smile, “I should probably get going.” 

“Alright, sweet pea,” He’s pulling away from you and standing, pulling your arm to help you stand, leading you to the door, “You gonna be alright walking back?” 

“I’ll be fine,” You speak, suddenly distracted by the sight of the guitar propped up against the wall, “Do you play?” 

 “I do indeed,” He smiles, “Got lucky findin’ this out on patrol a few weeks back.” 

“Will you play for me sometime?” You ask, hope in your voice, “I miss hearing music that isn’t distorted by headphones.” 

He steps closer to you, letting a hand run down the length of your hair until he’s cupping your cheek, “Course I will, sweet pea,” He presses another soft, careful kiss to your lips, “Now you get on home, be safe.” 

“Goodnight Joel.” 

The next morning, you’re sitting with Maria on your front porch, cups of coffee in hand, watching as the rest of Jackson start to come and go. It’s quiet between the two of you, something that you’ve always appreciated about Maria, that she can sit in silence and just let you enjoy the company. You’re almost to the bottom of your coffee cup when Tommy and Joel begin walking down the street, guns strapped to their backs on their way to patrol. 

Tommy waves at Maria as they get closer to your porch, walking over to say good morning to you. You think you return his sentiment, but all you can really focus on is Joel, who is standing just behind his shoulder with a childish grin painted across his lips. You can feel your face returning a similar smile his way, looking down into the murky dregs of your coffee to try and stop being so bloody obvious. 

“Well, you two have a nice day now.” Tommy’s voice brings you back round. 

“Oh, you too Tommy,” You smile, before shooting another smile to Joel, “And you as well Joel.”

“I’ll do my best, sweet pea.” 

Once they’ve started back on their walk to the gate, you turn your head to Maria who is staring right at you, with a knowing smirk on her face. 

“And you as well Joel,” She teases in an imitation of your voice, “God, you are subtle as a brick sometimes.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Tommy saw you, leaving his last night.” 

“Am I not allowed to go and visit a friend?” You ask, downing the last of your coffee. 

Maria gives you a knowing look, “Friends you kiss?” 

“That was one time, and it doesn’t even count.” You argue. 

“You must think I was born yesterday,” She laughs, “The way you two were smiling at each other just then, something definitely happened!” 

You relent, “Fine, I went and spoke to Mark, like you suggested and I guess everything felt a little clearer to me afterwards,” You don’t mention that you’re putting all your trust in a tiny ray of sunshine as permission to kiss Joel Miller, “So I went to speak to Joel, told him it would take time but that I wanted to see what might happen.” 

Maria reaches over, grasping your hand in her own, when you look at her, you almost cry, her own eyes brimming with tears, “I’m so proud of you, girl,” She whispers, “Lord knows that man is patient, the way he handles Ellie, but you let me know if I ever have to kick his ass, alright?” 

You laugh at that, considering Joel has never once given you the idea that anyone would need to protect you from him, but you agree none-the-less, “You’ll be the first to know.” 

Maria takes her leave a few moments later, leaving you to fill your day on your own. You decide to head to the library, picking out some new books and catching up with Kate for a few moments, before you head back home. You use the last of your rations to make a loaf of bread and spend some time weeding the garden and picking some of your sweet peas. 

The sun is setting and you’re considering what to pull together for dinner when there’s a knock at your door. It’s Joel, back from patrol, although he’s not stopped to drop his rifle off yet, which is still slung over his shoulder. 

“Evening, Joel.” 

“Evenin’, sweet pea.” He smiles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Good patrol?” 

“Can’t complain when I go with Tommy,” He responds, “Always brings his hip flask which makes things seem better.” 

“Did you need something?” 

“Are you busy tomorrow?” He asks, “Only I was thinkin’ there was some place I’d like t’show ya, if not.” 

“Are you asking me on a date, Joel Miller?” You smile, arms folding across your chest. 

“Might be,” He shrugs, “Depends in you’re gonna say yes or not.” 

“Well, lucky for you, I have no plans tomorrow, so you can take me wherever you’d like.” 

“Well then, sweet pea,” He smirks, “You’ve got yourself a date, I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning.” 

You lean up on your tiptoes, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling away, “Should I bring anything?” 

“No, just yourself.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.” 

The sun is already warming the commune when Joel arrives to pick you up. He’s dressed simply – jeans, black t-shirt and his battered walking shoes – but still looks like the most handsome man you’d laid eyes on in years. He’s got his backpack on which looks to be fit to burst and his rifle slug on his shoulder. 

“Where the hell are you taking me that requires that?” You ask, motioning to the gun whilst you lock the door. 

“I’m taking you out.” Is all he offers, which makes you stand still, anxiety filling your stomach. 

“Wait, as in out of Jackson?” 

He looks at you and notices the worry on your face, “Sweet pea, I promise I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you,” He takes hold of your hand in his, “It’s an hour walk, Tommy and I scouted it yesterday, so I know it’s clear, and I’ll protect you.” 

“I’ve not left since we arrived,” You speak quietly, sweat pricking at your skin in worry, “Are you sure it’s safe?” 

He drops your hands, instead bringing those warm palms to cup your face, leaning down to press a barely-there kiss to your lips that has the anxiety butterflies in your tummy turning into the exact opposite, “We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?” You nod, “Anytime you wanna turn back, we will, but I think you’ll like what I’ve got to show you.” 

He can obviously see your anxiety, worry etched onto your face like it always is these days. He drops his hands, intertwining your fingers with his own, “First step, we get to the gate, okay?” 

“Okay.” You say softly, keeping a firm grip on his hand as he leads you down the street. 

It’s early enough that there are few people on the main street down the gate, but those who are up and about don’t miss the fact that you’re hand-in-hand with Joel Miller. He certainly doesn’t seem to mind, keeping his head forward as he walks, but he does continuously squeeze your hand for comfort whenever he catches someone with a particularly intense stare. 

Amanda, one of the women who often patrols the walls of the commune, greets you both when you arrive at the gate, “Morning Joel,” Then she turns to you, “So good to see you out and about,” And she’s genuine for it. You didn’t know her, at all really, but her soft face and kindness make you smile, “All looking quiet out there today, you two enjoy yourselves.” 

Joel gives your hand another squeeze, “So, what do you say? You wanna go?” 

You look up at him, face warm and rugged in the early morning sun. His eyes are looking into yours, filled with hope that you’ll indulge him. You know he’s got you; you know this man right next to you isn’t going to let anything bad happen to you. So, you squeeze his hand and tell him to lead the way. 

It’s actually a really pleasant walk. There are plenty of trees that offer shade from the sun that is continuing to heat up the air around you as it rises further. You can’t remember the last time you took a walk just for pleasure. Mark had insisted that once you’d made it to Jackson and its safety, that you stayed put, and you can’t say you’d complained. You’d seen too much shit out in the world to not revel in the relative normality of life in the commune. But this walk reminded you of the days before, when you and your flatmates would drive out of the city and walk for hours with no destination in mind. If it weren’t for Joel’s rifle in your periphery, you could almost convince yourself that nothing bad was lurking just out of sight. 

“Not much further now, sweet pea,” Joel muses, stepping up onto some rocks at the top of the hill you’d been steadily climbing for a while, he turns back and offers you his hand, “Careful now.” 

He hauls you up onto the rocks, helps you down and then gestures for you to look around. It’s absolutely beautiful. There’s a small lake, shimmering in the sun, with a shore made up of pebbles. The tree line offers you a wealth of shade to sit under, Joel already making his way to one particularly large tree, setting his rifle down before he’s opening his backpack to pull out a blanket. 

You can’t help but smile to yourself as he sets it down on the ground before he’s reaching back into his bag. You walk over to meet him just as he pulls out a brown paper bag, filled to the brim with strawberries. Some of them had been squished on the walk, but you could see plenty of the sweet fruit still in one piece. He sets them down on the blanket, pulling out an insulated flask and two tin mugs before he’s turning to you. 

“You got anything else in that bag of yours?” You tease, dropping to your knees, “You’re like Mary Poppins.” 

He chuckles, “There might be a flask in there with somethin’ stronger than coffee,” He shrugs, “Couldn’t fit much else in.” 

You put a hand on his shoulder as he settled his back against the tree, extending and widening his legs, motioning for you to sit between his thighs, which you do, leaning your back against his chest as he leans forward to grab the bag of strawberries, taking one before he offers it to you. 

You take it, head falling back to rest in the crook of his neck as you bite into the fruit, “I’ll be sad when these are gone,” You comment, letting the sweet juice pour across your tongue, “Winter is miserable at the best of times, but I miss the fruit more than anything.” 

Joel takes a strawberry for himself, you can hear him bite into it and he makes a sucking sound as he tries not to let the juice fall down his face, “They’ll come back though,” He speaks softly, letting one of his arms wrap around your waist to pull you deeper into his chest, “This okay, sweet pea?” 

He makes your heart swell. He’d spend his own rations on your favourite fruit, scouted out a place for you to have some peace together, made sure you were comfortable the whole time and is still making sure he doesn’t push you too far. He’s trying to make this as normal as he possibly can. You don’t think you’d ever had this with Mark. Spent most of your time together scraping by in a QZ before trekking across the country trying to keep yourselves alive. Found comfort in each other in the dead of night, had a house and home in Jackson, but nothing that had ever felt this normal. You can feel tears welling in your eyes, you sniff, trying to brush them away. 

“Hey, is it too much?” Joel is leaning down to speak quietly into your ear. 

“No, not at all,” You choke out, “It’s fucking perfect Joel, I’m just overwhelmed.” 

You bring your own arm to rest along his that’s gripping your waist, running your fingers over his skin, his voice is back in your ear, “We can go back if it’s too much, sweet pea.” 

“That’s the problem,” You let out a tear-filled chuckle, “I don’t think I want to, I just want to stay here forever now, sitting by the lake with you, eating strawberries.” 

His lips surprise you as they place the softest kiss to the skin behind your ear. There’s nothing overtly sexual about it, they don’t linger, he doesn’t jut his tongue out like Mark used to when he was trying to work you up, either alone or in public, but you’ll be damned if it doesn’t send a jolt down your spine, one you hadn’t felt in over a year. You want him. Body betraying mind and memory of your dead husband. You can feel the irrational part of your mind telling you to fuck it all, throw every ounce of caution to the fucking wind, turn around and demand Joel spread you out on this very blanket and take you to heaven and back until you can’t think anymore. 

You can feel your heartbeat racing in your chest, can feel yourself struggling to pull in enough air to your lungs. It kills you, but you pull away from Joel’s chest, shuffling forward so you’re far enough away from him that you can turn and face him, sitting up on your knees. 

“Don’t do that.” Is all you say. 

You look into his eyes and there isn’t a single ounce of hurt there. He doesn’t look disappointed. Perhaps a little worried, but curious more than anything. 

“You can’t kiss me there,” You say, bringing your hand up to rest where Joel’s lips were just moments ago, “He would always kiss me there.” 

“Alright, sweet pea,” He looks at you with his beautiful brown eyes, holding his hands up, “I didn’t mean t’make you uncomfortable.” 

You shake your head, “You didn’t know,” Then you sigh, “Fuck, I didn’t even know, I never fucking know what’s going to set me off.” 

Joel can see you’re overwhelmed. Can see the tears streaking down your cheeks, “Gimme your hand,” He asks, offering his own to you palm up, “I ain’t ever gonna get mad at you for somethin’ like this, you hear me?” You nod in agreement, letting your hand slip back into his, “It’s gonna take time, sweet pea, and we’re gonna figure it out together, like I said t’ya before, I don’t wanna replace him, I’m just gonna add t’him, so if there’s anythin’ I do that makes you worried or uncomfortable, you just tell me okay?” 

You use the hand he doesn’t currently have clasped in his own to wipe away your tears, what the fuck had you done in this life to deserve Joel Miller? Patient and kind Joel Miller? The side of Joel Miller that no-one else really got to see. 

“Now, come and sit back down,” He’s dragging you back to sit where you had been moments ago, back against his chest, “I’ll keep my lips to myself.” 

That’s how you stay for the rest of the day, settled against him, eating strawberries and drinking coffee together. At one point he coaxes you to take off your shoes and dip your toes in the water to cool off, never once letting go of your hand. You talk about everything, Joel offers you small glimpses into life growing up with Tommy, you talk a lot about your parents and what it was like to lose them before the outbreak. It was nice, you think on the walk back to town, hand still clasped in his as he walks you back to your house. 

He waits for you to unlock the door and step through, before he dips his head to kiss you firmly on the lips. It’s chaste, he’s not pushing his luck, but the whiskey you shared on the walk back makes you bolder. You snake your hand up to the nape of his neck to keep him in place whilst you run your tongue over his velvety bottom lip. He opens his mouth for you, momentarily letting your tongues meet before you’re both pulling away. Neither of you say anything to each other. You just squeeze his hand as he walks away, but all you can think as you close the door behind you and rest your back on it is to thank the good Lord above for bringing Joel to you, bestowing him with the patience of a saint, because that same good Lord knows that he might just be the best thing to happen to you since Mark died.  

Joel Miller Taglist:  @winwin70@jessie8605@trulybetty@amanitacowboy@morning-star-joy@tieronecrush@leeeesahhh@babeincolor@beee-haw@kirsteng42@mirandablue1@sixxslut@impala1967dwinchester@flash2412@gimmebackmysoul@kelp-dreaming@gracie7209@voteforpedro09@brittmb115@karokaroxx@amb11@heartfairy @grumpy-the-tired @Lillilotus @doctorstatic@morallyinept@southernbe@elissaa@pop-sugar102@u-luciferssatanicdaughter@alyhull@purplerain44@harryleatherfit@lovely-ateez@emilianamason @bootyliciousposts @lorilane33@casa-boiardi@cupofjoel @dinsdjrn @tightjeansjavi @cavillscurls @darkroastjoel @morning-star-joy

#Joel Miller #Pedro Pascal #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fluff #joel miller angst #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo #Joel tlou #joel miller tlou #tlou fic #joel the last of us #tlou fanfiction #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller Pedro Pascal #goy

[jaehunnyy]

Take a chance on me

Genre: a bit of action, crack, fluff, strangers-to-lovers

Word count: 1.4k

Pairing: Seonghwa x gn!reader, Mingi x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of criminals and illegal stuff, a fight takes place in a bar—more of a shooting (highkey inspired by bouncy mv), mentions of a drink, mentions of bullets, guns, mentions of a wound and blood, pet names, possible grammar mistakes

Taglist: @shakalakaboomboo, @pocketjoong-reads, @nebulousbrainsoup, @justhere4kpop, @bluehwale, @bluisheye93, @ssaboala, @i-luvsang, @ad0rechuu

Networks: @cromernet 🤍

You sighed as another old man exited the bar you were working at, finally getting a break. The loud screams coming from the group of people playing billiards were almost unbearable for your ears, so you grabbed a coffee and went somewhere behind the building, a beautiful motorcycle catching your attention as it was parked somewhere close to you. You absolutely loved motorcycles, something you took after your dad; so, without a second thought, you approached it, examining the details. It was black and shiny, meaning that its owner was actually taking good care of it. As you wanted to touch it slightly, a deep voice from behind you interrupted your intentions, making you flinch.

"Do you want to steal it?"

His confidence was visible—from the way he acted to the way he was dressed; jewelry and accessories cladding his neck and hands, the leather jacket making him look like your typical biker.

"I—no, no! I just—"

He smirked at your state, getting one step closer to you.

"If I see a single scratch on it, I'll make you pay for it. Do you think you have the money?"

You couldn't stand this guy already, but you tried to understand him—maybe you would have done the same if you had your own.

"I just want to buy one myself, and yours seemed nice so… I'm sorry." you said, looking down as you couldn't think about spending the money you tried so hard to keep for something like this.

His look softened a bit at your words. He might not be known as the best guy around town, yet he couldn't help but remember where he came from and how much help he needed to be able to purchase his precious gem.

"I was joking, flower. Would you like me to take you home? I can explain more on the way." he smiled, words slipping from his mouth as if calling you that was something usual for him, and for the first time that afternoon, you found him cute.

It wasn't that the idea didn't appeal to you—but your shift was nowhere near completed, and you didn't quite want to trust the stranger that fast.

"I work till midnight." you said nonchalantly, drawing the biker in even more.

He pouts playfully, before taking his phone out of his pocket and handing it to you.

"Here, put your number," he encouraged, unlocking it, "I'll be back for you."

You hesitantly took it, typing your number as a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Seonghwa, it's time, let's go." a quite long-haired guy said, signaling with a move of his head that they should leave.

"I'll be back." Seonghwa smiled and took his phone as your steps began to take you inside the bar again.

He was too late when he realized that you didn't get to put your name in his phone, yet he decided to just call you Flower. You watched everything from the window and waved to him when he smiled in your direction before their bikes let out a loud groan, and they were gone.

It was already dark outside before you were supposed to catch your last break for the day. It was way more peaceful than the other days, which made you wonder if something happened; though you couldn't complain about it, you enjoyed the silence. You were drying some of the glasses you just washed, your eyes darting to the door right when it opened for the nth time that day—and for some reason, it felt different this time. A tall guy with an intimidating, yet mysterious posture stepped inside, leather hat on, thus you couldn't see his face. You noticed him throwing a few balls from the billiard table with his hand, taking your eyes off of him as you feared he was looking for fights. Of course, you could call Seonghwa, but you didn't want to put him in danger—and you didn't even know if he would come.

"Whiskey on the rocks, please." he said in a low, deep voice, head facing the floor.

You turned around, your back facing him, as you wanted to take the bottle—though the poster in front of you grabbed your attention. WANTED was written just above the culprit's face, making you gasp in shock as you turned back to the guy, who was now facing you. You kept looking at the poster, then back at him. He looked at you more intensely, and you looked back at the poster. He was the wanted one. You opened your mouth to say something, but he put a finger on his own lips, signaling you to shut up. You swallowed your words, nodding that he is safe, before gathering the courage to finally say something.

"Dude… they did you dirty with that nose." you said, a chuckle escaping your lips as you compared the man in front of you to the poor drawing behind you.

"I know, right?" he said, laughing a bit too—until he saw your expression changing into a serious one. "Please don't say anything, don't tell them you've seen me!"

"Don't worry. It's not like this bar is not frequented by other criminals and more anyway."

"Thank you! That's such a relief, I'm tired of running away all the time. And I'm Mingi, by the way."

You smiled softly, finally handing him the glass he ordered and telling him your name. The tension could be cut with a knife—there was definitely some sort of attraction between the two of you, yet you both enjoyed the silence of it and the way you could understand each other with just some gestures; well, that was until the door opened, three guys with guns on full display looking at Mingi with a smirk; that didn't look good.

"B-behind you…" you stuttered, trying to alert him somehow, yet all you could see coming from him was the same, dirty smirk that was stretching the mysterious guys' mouths.

"Hold tight, doll."

He said, jumping from his chair and taking a rifle out of its holder. You gasped at the sight, yet a smile from him silenced you. He started to shoot around him, aiming for the guys, bullets flying all over the floor as you covered your ears, not standing the loud sounds.

"Shhh, I'm sorry. Here, stay here." he said, guiding you under the bar with one hand as the other kept on shooting at the enemies who kept getting inside, outnumbering him.

He got up again and got another gun, this time a revolver, his moves fast enough to get rid of the bad guys in a short time. You were still shocked, breath hitching in your throat as he looked like nothing happened, another smile taking over his face.

"So freaking persistent," he sighed, rolling his eyes in annoyance, before his attention went towards you: "Are you okay, doll?" he asked, fingers stroking your hair softly.

You nodded, looking at him as he searched for any scar on your beautiful skin. You grabbed his waist softly, telling him that you were fine. Suddenly, you noticed something wet on your hand—it was blood.

"M-Mingi, you're hurt…"

He looked a bit down, just to notice his drenched shirt—but he only smiled.

"It's okay, love. It has happened before."

You were too stunned to speak. No words could leave your mouth as you saw how relaxed he was, while you felt like passing out on the spot.

"Can you help me with a med kit?"

You stood up and ran to search for it, while he was just looking at you in awe—he truly found you cute. Maybe love at first sight was really a thing, and he was witnessing it right now.

"Here… tell me how I can help."

He raised his shirt softly, revealing a wound, making you gasp—again.

"It's okay, lovely. Just help me with the band-aids, so I can go home and treat it properly."

"Will you be okay…?"

He nodded, kissing your cheek softly before he stood up like nothing happened.

"Thank you, doll, for everything. See you again."

You were shocked. As you were laying on the ground like a teenager in love, you remembered that you still had to wait for Seonghwa. The events drained your energy, and you were already tired, so you took some time to think if waiting for him was worth it or if you could just go home.

What are you gonna do?

Wait for Seonghwa Go home

#ateez fanfic #ateez ff #ateez mingi #ateez seonghwa #kpop oneshots #kpop ff #ateez oneshot #seonghwa fic #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa oneshot #mingi fic #mingi fluff #mingi oneshot #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa x reader #song mingi x reader #song mingi x y/n #mingi x reader #ateez x reader

[minecraftian1213]

Link to Part 1

Owen Grady Imagine: You're pregnant with Owen's kid and you're feeling a little under the weather.

Warnings/Tags: Mentions of nausea, fluff, kinda cuteness, no hurt/all the comfort.

"Honey?"

You hummed blearily from the floor next to the toilet. Owen stood leaning against the doorframe wearing only his grey sweatpants and a white tank top. It was terrifying how the man could wear the thick bottoms in such a humid place.

"Hmm, hey," you said, reaching up to flush. Then you picked yourself off the floor and sat on the rim. "You finally done with that little project?"

Owen had been up at night for weeks now. You didn't know what he was working on. He said it was a surprise for you and the baby, so you didn't try to peak around the area he'd cordoned off outside.

"I decided it was time to sleep. You okay?"

You hadn't been feeling well all day. From the moment you woke up and rolled out of bed your back had ached, your feet felt swollen, and your little one hadn't stopped tossing and turning and kicking and punching.

Normally, the latter few wouldn't bother you so much. Most days when the baby stretched you and Owen grabbed markers and drew where you could see imprints pressing into your skin. Most of the time you traced hands and feet but one time you'd managed to draw the entirety of the baby's butt before they'd shifted away. Owen had gotten a kick out of that one.

You smiled gently at your husband as he handed you a toothbrush. "Just a little stomach bug."

"Well I can see that. Though," an indulgent smile passed over his face, "I don't think it's small."

"Owen."

"More small melon sized, really."

"Owen."

"We should probably be concerned at the size."

"You are so not funny."

Owen threw his head back and cackled, the bastard. Your bastard but a bastard all the same. "I'm hilarious."

You sighed and hung your head. Brushing your teeth brought momentary relief from the taste of bile. Owen's laughter trailed off. For a moment it was only the sound of your miserable brushing. Then he reached out a hand and gently ran it through your mussed hair. A sigh crept up through you and you slumped into his touch.

His tone was much more sympathetic. "Hard day?" A nod. "Do you want food?" A single shake of the head. You wouldn't be able to stomach anything regardless of how good his food always was. It'd be a terrible waste. "How about cuddles?" That, at least, didn't sound too bad. "Finish here and I'll meet you."

You moaned in despair when his hand stopped moving over you. Only then did you realize you'd stopped brushing and was drooling toothpaste and spit down your brush. Feeling ever so slightly foolish, and hungry despite your protests of nourishment, you finished quickly.

You'd only taken two small steps, waddles, really, outside the bathroom when you were swept off your feet and into a pair of strong arms. Discomfort quickly settled as your weight was taken off your feet. A pleased hum left your throat as Owen carried you to the bed.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your arms?"

"I could be persuaded to hear it once more."

He gently laid you on the bed. Then he placed a kiss to your brow. Owen climbed in behind you and practically melded himself to your back. His knees came to rest behind yours as his arms wrapped around your middle. Fingers caressed your very pregnant belly as Owen pressed his face into your neck, breathing in your familiar scent.

You sighed in content when he shuffled just a little to place a small kiss to your temple.

He murmured, "I love you."

You laced one of your hands with his that were resting on your stomach. "I love you too."

#am I only writing this because ao3 is down and I should be at work but was given VTO? #yes absolutely #owen grady x reader #owen grady imagine #owen grady #jurassic world imagine #jurassic world #x reader #reader imagine

[charliesgoodboy]

♠︎tom kaulitz(2007) x male reader(sfw)

♠︎genre: fluff

♠︎warning(s): reader is very very very tired

♠︎a/n: i'm very very very tired.

today was a long day. too long of a day as well. you had a busy shift and you just wanted to go to sleep and calm down, you needed it. you walked into the hotels doors, taking the key card from your pocket and heading into the elevator, already nodding your head before the last floor.

walking out, you looked for your room lazily scanning almost over and over till you finally opened the damn door. closing it you were looking around for tom, your frown deepening when you saw he wasn't even there.

"great.." you wouldn't be able to fall asleep quick enough without tom, it was just something that happened. almost the moment you got comfortable as he held you, you were already knocked out for ages.

and what you loved is that he would still be there every time you awoke. you threw the card somewhere else flopping onto the white bed sheets as they were just done and were now crumpled under your weight.

you stared at the wall, your mind making random drawings and shapes at the beige paint trying to get yourself to sleep but it didn't work, you were just laying in the same position for a good thirty minutes.

the door clicked making your pupil move to where the door was at the corner of your eye, tom was laughing and saying good night to the others as they went into there own rooms this time.

he paused for a moment closing the door before smiling seeing you sit up, "hey tom.." you yawned rubbing your eyes that had visible enough eye bags. "(m/n)? i thought you wouldn't be off till later." he set his things down, walking towards you still keeping that smile on his face.

"surprise." tom nodded pulling you into a hug, not to tight but not too loose. so comfortable, it's like he could read you a little even though it was clearly obvious you needed one.

your eyes started to lid again, your thoughts slowly slipping away feeling the warmth of his chest, the constant heart beat and his slow breaths. your body went limp fully falling asleep, tom didn't really seem to notice until he tried to speak to you.

"hey, do you– oh." his heart melted as he looked down at your sleeping face, he loved it when you fell asleep on him or as he held you. looking at you sleep made him calmer and more care free when he watched you. he didn't think it was anything creepy no, it was just something he wasn't like bill full blown watching others sleep.

"alright then," he climbed into the bed with you, not wanting to put on any covers so he wouldn't stir you awake again, he didn't want to ruin something that just started.

you shifted closer to him, hiding yourself into his chest a little more to get comfortable. "what to do with you.." he kissed your forehead and allowed you to continue and have a day you needed.

someone start singing dont jump cuz i swearr @gaybitchfx @tokio-motel @secretivemessenger @reallyromealone @esthxio @vyloy @kitsune-yuhhh @lostsomewhereinthegarden ummmm idk too tired to think

gonna do gustav next cuz i can a lot of these next few fics will be about sleeping

a lot of it

#male reader #x male reader #male y/n #male reader insert #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x male reader #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x male reader

[heartfullofleeches]

Convenience Store

Yandere Goddess x G.N Reader

Genre/Tags: Comedic Horror, Yandere| Mentions of blood and death

Word count: 1k

-

She's late again.

This is the sixth time in a row that your coworker has shown up late for work. You both work in a crappy convenience store in the middle of nowhere, where you and her are the only employees; aside from constantly changing your manager whom you never hear from unless they're screaming into the telephone.

Ding - Ding

The sliding doors' sensor alerts you to a new arrival with a friendly jingle. You know it could only be one person - since you never actually got any customers. The woman pulls off her coat and baseball cap with the line of "People fear me, Fish want me" crudely drawn on with a marker, and sits both on the floor by the coat rack. She coincidentally happens to be wearing a shirt with the same line and poor penmanship.

She strolls over to the frozen drink machine; creating a concoction of each flavor - and a bottle of an energy supplement. She, at least, makes her way to the counter; finishing the drink in a few gulps. She grins at you, eyes hidden behind red riffs of hair.

"Heya, Y/n. How's my favorite cashier?"

"Hey, Salem."

She scoffs at the nickname. "I told you that's not my name. You know what it is."

You really didn't. She never told you what it was or wore her badge. You started calling her that due to the brand of cigarettes she smoked, and created quite the tab on. You didn't care much either way, especially since you had plans after work.

"Can you hurry up and clock in? I'll be late to my appointment so they can take off this cast."

A day before your first shift, you got into an accident that broke your right arm. They still made you come in the next day, bit Salem was nice enough to draw a skull as well as write her phone number on it. Over the phone your doctor informed you that today was the day. You hope you'll be able to find the hospital in time.

Salem wiping a blood stain off the counter before she leabs against it. "Yeah, it's about that time. I made sure to give the guy who did it an extra swing before I threw him in the woodchipper."

"Thanks?"

She sighs. "I'm gonna miss all this?"

"Are you quiting or something?"

"No, but you are in a way. You're finally waking up."

"What are you talking about?"

Salem pulls out a lighter, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from behind you. "There's something I gotta tell you, Y/n."

"Okay?"

"You're dead."

"...o...kay"

"You were sacrificed by a cult to awake a being of unspeakable power. One they believed could gift them that same power, but it doesn't want that. It just wants to destroy. Been doing that for quite some time now."

"Alright."

"I'm that being, Y/n. I've kept you in this limbo for what feels like months, but has only been 48 hours. It took me a while to figure out how put you back together. It was like working with wet play-doh that kept falling apart and had bones."

"I sorta figured that out by now."

"Right. What you probably haven't figured out is that I'm in love with you. I've done this little song and dance before, but there's something about you that I can shake from my mind. I'm not even technically that God. I'm one of its meals that took over after it was killed. That's how its immortally works. Pretty vicious cycle."

Salem lights her cigarette, taking a long drag as she pats you on the back. "I'm only telling you this as a caution for what you're about to see. It ain't pretty, and I'm not either - but I don't have any plans of letting you go. I've decided to turn a new leaf. Peace and love, and all that. Less someone tries to take ya from me again.. See you in a few, Y/n."

She finally clocks in. You head to the store's exit, a white light beyond its reach. You had questions, but they would have to be left to another time as your body moves on its own. The door chimes once more as you take your final exit.

-

You wake on the floor of a large cabin; a foul stench in the area and piles of bodies around you. An outstretched arm lies in front of you - and nothing more. A familiar jacket is thrown over your body; your own clothes sticky and cold from the puddles of blood around you - one centering from right beneath you. You slowly sit up, remembering what happened before you died.

You were on your way home from work and had to take a side road due to construction. While making your way, a truck plowed into your car; knocking you out cold. You woke back up right before they slit your throat.

A frightened scream draws your attention to the front of the room; the alter where your life was stolen. A cult member is held in the large fist of a near indescribable figure. Its head scraps the ceiling; back turned so all you can see is the tail coat of its attire and the edge of the mask that hides its upper face. The pinkish tendrils that flow from its head weave together in what you could best describe as a lion's mane. It pulls back the mask that covers its face, a multitude of black tongues sweeping across the cult member's face before separate pairs of jaws are clamp around their body. It drops what's left of the corpse like a discarded rag; turning its head upon you.

It steps forward, a mist enveloping its body as it moves. As the fog shrinks and clears, you're left staring at your old coworker who greets you with a wide grin - fixing her cap on her head as she holds out her arms.

"Welcome back, baby! Gathered a welcoming party just for ya!"

Salem walks over, taking her jacket from your lap and putting it on before offering you her hand.

"Hope you don't forget everything I told you. Let's go get something to eat, I'm starving."

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere imagines #yandere blurb #yandere x reader #yandere teratophilia #female yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere god #yandere monster #tw yandere #yandere writing #yandere drabble

[readyforthegarden]

Eternal - Part One

A vampire!gvf multi-part dark romance AU (Josh Kiszka x reader, GVF x reader)

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI. Mentions of blood, death, vampirism. This chapter itself contains mentions of sex, possessive behavior, and strange dreams.

AN: A huge shoutout to @lunaindigoraven for being the best and workshopping this with me for MONTHS and encouraging me to keep going on it! I couldn't do it without you bestie!!! Thank you guys so much for being patient as I worked through a bunch of crap in my life and finally got this little story together for yall! I'm so excited to share this work with you! I don't have a schedule for this fic like I've had before, but hopefully it will be weekly!

WC: 2303

“We’re just moving in opposite directions.” the words echoed in your head. “It’s nothing you’ve done, but I just don’t think we’re a good fit any more.” those are the words your fiancé had said to you a month ago, when you came home to find him in the process of moving his things from your apartment. What had started as a trip home in the middle of the day to surprise your work-from-home fiancé with some ‘afternoon delight’ turned into a night of heartbreak. 

You let yourself wallow longer than you cared to admit. You had moved to a new city, and met Drew shortly after, and the whirlwind romance blossomed. Dinners and drinks and dancing turned into moving in with one another, settling down and starting a domestic life, cooking meals and folding laundry together. You were building a life with him after the past three years, and suddenly, everything you had built was pulled out from under you. It wasn’t until your work friend, Willa, took pity on you and invited you out with a small group of her girlfriends for a night out.

That’s how you ended up here. You’d been coming almost nightly to this club, to drink, dance and maybe go home with a stranger. It felt good to forget for a little while, how your life had crashed down around you. The other dancers around you didn’t care what you were going through, the drinks were okay, and the occasional partner you went home with satisfied your need for touch.

As you moved to the music, you began to feel like you were being watched. Shaking your hair from your face you glanced around the club, trying to spy anyone looking in your direction. As you scanned, you locked eyes with a man in a vintage looking tailored suit, lounging back in a chair in one of the V.I.P. areas off to the side of the dance floor, up a level and separated by thick velvet ropes. He seemed at ease as he watched you dance, like he was watching a performance meant for him. He ran a hand through his curls as he watched, giving you a small smirk. You gave him a quick up and down as you turned away. 

He’d been there every night this week as well, sitting in that damn chair while his friends partied around him. You’d met eyes with him a few times since you’d started coming to the night club, the two of you always sending seemingly flirty looks to one another, but nothing ever coming from it.

You moved yourself into the crowd further, trying to shake the feeling of his eyes on you and lose yourself in the loud music again. If he wasn’t going to make a move, you weren’t going to be bothered by his attentions. Swaying your hips and rolling your shoulders back you let the music and alcohol take over again. Making eye contact with Willa, you both started dancing together. Her hand laced with yours and the two of you moved your bodies together for a while before a hand rested on your waist. 

Letting go of Willa and turning, you came eye to eye with the man from the VIP section, looking down at you. His hand moved to the small of your back but the pressure was light, like he wanted you to make the move closer instead of him pulling you in. Instead, you turned back around as a new, slightly slower song started playing. His hands rested on your hips now as you continued your dancing, drawing out the figure-eights you were doing with your hips and subtly pushing back against him. The man matched your movements and you felt the grip on your hips become more firm, yet he still let you lead and let you be the one to choose to move your body closer. 

It wasn’t so bad, dancing with this stranger. In fact, the way his one hand now wound around your front, resting on your stomach to hold you in place against him felt nice. You felt his breath on your neck and reached behind you, resting your hand on the back of his neck. The two of you danced through the next few songs, not caring about the tempo or if you were off beat, it felt like you were in your own world, being jostled around by other dancers around you. After a while, the man turned you around, asking if you wanted a drink. You nodded, suddenly realizing how parched you were. He took your hand, leading you through the crowd and to the bar. 

You settled at the bar, on the stool next to this man that you'd been dancing with. As you waited for the bartenders attention, you caught the eye of a tall blonde man down to your left. If this guy didn’t work out, maybe a tall blonde could meet your needs tonight. You bit your bottom lip and gave him a smile as he looked you over. You straightened your posture, making sure your chest was pushed forward as you shoulders rolled back and you watched the man's eyes dart down to the low neckline of your dress.

You didn’t notice how the jaw of the man next to you clenched at the exchange of looks you were currently in with this stranger, and his arm crossed your lap, hand grabbing your left thigh, letting his fingertips dig into the flesh of your exposed thigh and dragged your seat next to his until you’re flush against him.

“There’ll be none of that tonight, love.” you turned towards him, scoffing at his nonchalant yet demanding tone. You didn’t want to let on that the small spark of jealously and the pet name from him made your stomach flip with excitement.

“And why not? I’m a free woman.” the man's golden brown eyes stared down at you, glinting in the neon lights at the clubs bar. You felt your heart start to pound in your chest. The way he looked at you, there was a hunger in his eyes, yet he was reserved, like he was going to wait for you to offer yourself on a platter to him, like he knew you would. It made you feel like you were on fire, and you were sure your cheeks were tinged with red.

“Woman, yes. Free? Not any longer.” His fingers flexed and dug into your thigh. "You're mine." you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to fight the smirk that wanted cross your face. All the nights of looks across the dance floor and he was finally breaking.

"And what if I don't want to be yours? Tonight or ever." you shot back with a raise of your eyebrows, challenging him and leaning in. He smirked confidently down at you, and let his fingers trace up to the hemline of your skirt, creeping under and grazing the skin of your inner thigh. He leaned in close, his lips grazing your cheek before moving to your ear, his voice low and slow.

"Your body language tonight seems to say otherwise." he murmured. “Tell me, have any of the men you’ve left with recently even satisfied you?” you took a quiet, deep breath in as you tried to keep your composure. The way this man looked at you, especially so closely, was making you feel like melting into the stool beneath you, and his hand on your leg wasn’t helping.

“And why would that be your business?” you squinted at him, trying to remain coy. The man licked his lower lip slowly as he smirked down at you.

“It’s not, but I don’t think you’d be coming here every night for a week if they were.”

“And you think you can do the job?” 

“Oh, I know I can.” you pursed your lips, looking away from him and ran your tongue over your teeth to give yourself a few moments to think of a good comeback. “But you’ll have to wait a little longer for that.” you eyed him, sizing him up. His lips were curled into a smarmy smile that somehow charmed you, and you found yourself disappointed he was getting up from the barstool next to you. He finished off his drink and nodded to the bartender. “Your tab is taken care of, thank you for the dance, love.” he took your hand before you knew it, pressing his soft lips to the back of it, a small tingle being left in it’s wake when he pulled away, giving you a small smoldering look as he left you. 

It was like you blinked and he was gone, disappearing into the crowd, presumably to make his way back to the VIP section. You turned back towards the bar, tossing back the fruity drink special and moving to get up. The blonde man from across the bar was making his way over now, and you raised a hand up in his direction, shaking your head and walking away, moving to the front of the club to get your coat from the coat check. 

While you waited for coat check, you sent a quick text to Willa, letting her know you were leaving and you’d see her at work the next day, before shoving the phone back into your bag, and slipping on your coat. You were able to get a cab outside fairly quickly and tucked yourself into the backseat after giving the driver your address, watching out the window as the lights of the city passed. You hadn’t realized you’d been running your fingers over the spot on the back of your hand where the man had kissed until you had to stop, and open the cab door. Your thoughts had only been of the man; his confidence in your attraction to him, his entire aura was dizzying and consuming. 

Crawling into your bed, a sigh left your lips while the blankets settled around you. A momentary break in the quiet peace when your cat, Jameson, jumped up onto your bed, curling up near your pillow. The Siamese cat purred loudly as he fell asleep, contented that you were home. Closing your eyes, you focused on the soft noise from the animal, letting it lull you to your own sleep, thinking only of the dark, sparkling brown eyes that had made your heart feel like it was on fire.

Wind swirled around you, whipping your hair across your face as you tried to take in your surroundings. Once you were able to clear your vision, your eyes only saw darkness. Putting out a hand to feel your way around, your palm came into contact with something rough after only a few steps. Running your fingers over the object, it felt wooden, scratchy, and jagged, and you soon realized it was a tree trunk. 

As if a switched were flicked, a bright, shining light burst from the leaves above, showcasing the vibrant green of them, the rich browns of the branches and trunk itself. Under your hand, you felt a beat, and placing your other palm flat against the large trunk, you let out an astonished gasp as the tree pulsed, as if it were a beating heart. Your mind was racing, thinking about how amazing of a discovery this could be, and how beautiful the tree was, gazing up through the leaves. The joy in your heart was immeasurable, and you wanted to wrap your arms around the trunk as far as you could and cling to it.

Basking in the glow, you almost didn’t notice the shadows at the edge of the light. Flickering and moving like smoke, twisting in angry swirls as they tried to enter into the light, only to be forced out. A pit formed in your stomach as you watched them, whatever they were, try to fight their way against whatever invisible force was keeping them out. You backed yourself against the tree trunk, knowing your body was too small to really protect it if they should break through. The wind picked up again, the branches creaking and swaying , and your eyes widened as you noticed them moving, coming down around you, as if the tree was instead protecting you. As you felt yourself become cocooned in the limbs, you saw one of the shadows strike against the edge of the light, over and over again until a crack sounded, and suddenly darkness flooded through. A silent scream ripped from your throat, your eyes squeezing shut as the black mass shot towards you, sounding like a train barreling down the tracks.

Then suddenly, you were sitting up in your bed, your eyes focusing in the darkness of your bedroom, cold shivers running through your body. Your shirt was stuck to your skin from sweat, and you tossed the blankets off, pulling the material off your body and going to the closet for a new, dry shirt. After getting yourself some water in the kitchen, you went back to your bedroom, rubbing your face tiredly and setting the glass down on the nightstand. A glimmer in the moonlight caught your eye as you lifted your hand away from the glass, and you furrowed your brow, picking up the delicate gold chain. A sheer, white stone pendant hung from it in the shape of teardrop. It was small, and you couldn’t remember where you’d gotten it. You didn’t even remember seeing it before. And yet you unclasped the hook and eye, putting it around your neck and letting the pendant rest just above your chest as you climbed back into bed, turning over and grabbing Jameson from his perch by your head and pulling him into your body, falling back asleep.

Taglist:

@lunaindigoraven @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvf2 @gretavanfleetposts @gretavanfran @josiee-gvf @highdefkiszka @ascendingtostardust @joshkiszkatoothgap @andeejoness @gardensgatedaisy @kkdarling @demonrat444 @teddiie @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @gretavanbestie @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @gretavanslut @tearsofbri @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @hippievanfleet @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @sunfl0wer-power @jankandjonch @writingcold

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiskza #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet #jake kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x reader #danny wagner x reader #danny wagner #sam kiszka #jake kiszka #reverse harem dark romance fanfic #eternal fic

[lambertdiary]

Jealousy, Jealousy

"Sorry Won't Fix This" Masterlist

A/N: So I posted part two a couple of days ago and I had a few people asking for a part three, and I'm not gonna lie... I got a little carried away lol, so definitely I'll post a part 4. This was really fun to write and hopefully it'll be fun for you guys to read it! PLEASE let me know what you think 🫶🏻 Also I was watching an Andrew Garfield movie so keep that in mind.

Word Count: 2.1k+

Warnings: angst, language, jealousy, Dalton being shitty (again)

MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST

After Dalton left, Y/N just stared at the door trying to hold her tears in. She was doing a good job, until Chris walked through the door and asked her what was wrong. She broke down immediately, but Chris stayed with her comforting her all night. She cried until she couldn't anymore, and all that was left was a raging headache. 

Y/N told Chris everything, she had been avoiding that subject but letting it all out made her feel a lot better. She felt bad for Chloe, she really did, but at this point she just wanted to detach herself from the whole situation and just Dalton in general, so her next step was moving on.

“You need to forget about him Y/N, he’s not worth it” Y/N nodded agreeing with her friend, but a part of her still felt like she lost someone really important.

“I know I do” She sighed deeply before continuing “I guess the last time we broke up I thought we would somehow find our way back to each other, you know?”

“Y/N, I love you and I know what you mean, but I just want you to think of all the times he did something shitty, and then tell me you still want him”

Y/N laughed a little, admitting to herself stupid her feelings were “You’re right”

“I know I am, dude. Go out, have fun and meet guys who are not gonna kiss someone else in New Year’s”

After a minute of silence, Y/N finally built up the courage to ask “Did you know?”

“Know what?” Chris asked in confusion.

“That Chloe and Dalton were like together together”

Chris thought about her answer for a moment, but ultimately decided there was no point in hiding it anymore “Sort of… I mean I knew he was getting invited to her parents’ house and hanging out with some of her friends” Y/N just nodded, a sad look still on her face “But it doesn’t matter because you’re over him now”

Chris encouraged her to go out with someone. Y/N wasn’t the type to approach a guy and ask for his number, so Chris offered to introduce her to one of her friends she thought Y/N could get along with. 

She met Andrew a couple of days later, and she was surprised when they immediately hit it off. He was cute and funny and really easy to talk to, so Y/N was excited when he started to take her out on dates. They were seeing each other almost every day, and Y/N even took him to her favourite coffee shop, telling him that she got her best work done there and how it was the best coffee she ever had. He chuckled at her statement but agreed with her, sharing his love for coffee too.

⋆ ★

Dalton didn’t tell Chloe what happened that night, of course he didn’t. He kept seeing her like nothing happened and she couldn’t be happier about it. 

The thing is, Chloe felt like she didn’t have him for a number of reasons, even when they started dating he was barely any special towards her. Sure, she would spend a lot of time with him and he would seek her attention, he even drew her for an art project but that was before they became a thing, and the portrait was just somewhere in his dorm. 

She would go there with him and see the wall with a bunch of paintings and drawings of Y/N, and before he told her about them she had no idea they used to date, but she couldn’t help but feel jealous that she never made the wall. 

So one day she decided to ask him to put it up “I’m your girlfriend now, don’t you think it’s time you put the drawing of me on your wall?”

“Uh” He looked at his art displayed on the wall, realising a lot of them were Y/N “I will” He simply replied, thinking he could maybe do it later, but the look Chloe gave him made him understand that she meant right now. So he did, he stood up and removed a few portraits, making space for the new one. He couldn’t bring himself to actually get rid of them, so he decided to just leave them on his desk. That was weeks before he told her about his past with Y/N.

The day after Y/N rejected him he concluded it was officially over, so his relationship with Chloe got a little more serious. Chloe properly introduced him to her parents, they started to have more dates and they even had ‘romantic’ weekends.

Days went by and Dalton tried his best to keep Y/N out of his mind, constantly telling himself that he was with Chloe now and that it was for the best. He wanted to be a better boyfriend for her but he sometimes forgot to put in the effort.

One day Dalton decided to get coffee after class, buying one for him and one for his girlfriend who was waiting for him in his dorm. After receiving his order, he turned around and was ready to walk out, but a familiar face stopped him.

He saw Y/N sitting at one of the tables, talking and giggling with some other guy. Dalton stared at them for a moment, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the cups he was holding. He decided it would be better if he left, but just as he started to walk again he noticed the guy stand up and make his way to the washroom. 

Before he could think about it, he found himself standing in front of Y/N, giving her a questioning stare, as if she owed him any explanations. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked in a demanding tone.

Y/N was both surprised and annoyed at his question. She scoffed and crossed her arms, giving him a bland tone to make him feel like she didn’t care about him “What kind of question is that?”

“I know you’re here with someone, I saw him”

“Why do you care? Aren’t you still with Chloe?” Y/N asked him, pointing at the cup with her name on it. Dalton shrugged and thought about something else to say. She had a point, he was with Chloe now so he shouldn’t care, but he did “You should probably take your girlfriend her coffee, it’s gonna get cold”

“We need to talk”

“There’s nothing left to talk about”

Before Dalton could say something, someone else joined the table “Hi, I’m Andrew” He said, sitting across from Y/N. 

“Dalton” He replied, pressing his lips together.

“He was just leaving” Y/N quickly added.

“Oh” Andrew immediately suspected she didn’t want him there “Well, nice to meet you man”

Dalton clenched his jaw, he didn’t say anything else and just gave them a quick nod before leaving the coffee shop. He was walking to his dorm and the whole time he wished he had said something clever to Andrew.

When he got to his dorm, he was received with a sweet hug and kiss from Chloe, telling him how much he has missed him. As usual, they sat on his bed and talked about their day before moving on to schoolwork. 

“So, my birthday party is this Saturday and I was thinking we could wear the same colour” Chloe said out of nowhere.

Dalton tried to hide the fact that he forgot about her birthday “Uh- yeah, what are you wearing?”

“The dress I bought last week. I told you it was for my birthday, remember?” She asked, hurt and mad he forgot such an important detail. 

He nodded his head quickly “I remember baby, I’m sorry” Dalton brought her closer to him and gave her a reassuring kiss “We’ll both look phenomenal in pink”

⋆ ★

Y/N wasn’t surprised to see Dalton, it was impossible to avoid him completely given they lived in the same building, but anytime they saw each other they just pretended the other didn’t exist, it was working just fine for Dalton until he saw her with someone else. 

Her feelings towards him definitely changed, while she still felt like she lost someone important to her, she was also disappointed at how much he had changed since the party, so they were a mix of many different things. Often she couldn’t help but wonder how different things would be if she tried harder when they were together, but at the same time she resented him for not always showing that he loved her the way she wanted him to.

“How long do we have to wait?” Andrew asked, holding his hair away from his forehead so the face mask wouldn’t stick to it.

“About 20 minutes” Y/N was smiling down at him, finishing up with the thick paste on his cheeks.

He opened his eyes and smiled back at her “Do you have like a hair thing I can borrow?”

Y/N chuckled and reached for another headband, carefully sticking all of his hair back “This is a great look on you” She joked.

They laughed as he looked at himself in the tiny mirror “I guess you’ll have to style me more often”

“I mean, you already look great all the time so I don’t think you need my help”

She watched as his smile went shy, almost sure he was blushing under the face mask. Andrew handed her the mirror and she put it back in a small vase that had a few makeup brushes in it.

“Did you make that?” Andrew asked, paying close attention to the drawings on it, recognising Y/N’s favourite flowers.

“The vase?” She asked and he nodded “Yeah, last year in a pottery class”

“A pottery class?”

“Yeah. I mean, I only went like 3 times but this is great, isn’t it?” She picked it up and examined it. It had been a long time since she did.

“May I?” Andrew grabbed it and looked at all the different colours on it “And you drew these?” He asked, pointing at the beautifully painted flowers.

“Not really, my- uh friend helped me with those, but I still did most of the job” She clarified.

“Oh…” He faked disappointment “And you had me over here thinking you were an artist”

She scoffed playfully as he took the vase from him “I am, did you see the one at the bottom?” Y/N showed him a smudged spot of paint that looked like it was supposed to be a flower “You wouldn’t get it, it’s abstract art” Andrew gave her a frisky look that made her blush  “Are you an artist?”

“Born to be but my lack of skills didn’t allow it, very tragic” Y/N giggled at his dramatics as she scooted closer to him “I can’t really draw… I mean I can, but it’s not very good” Andrew laughed “Why? Do you have a thing for artists?

A strange feeling took over her heart, but she just shook her head and forced a smile “No, just for guys that look good in headbands” She teased. Andrew felt his face get hot again and an impulse made him lean over, getting really close to her face but Y/N stopped him.

“You don’t wanna taste this face mask, it’s gonna linger for days” Andrew shrugged his shoulders and took a quick look at her lips, and then back at her eyes.

“You already have that effect on me”

Y/N was speechless. For a moment they stared at each other intensely, Y/N almost gave in, but the door swinging open made both of them jump.

“Oh- sorry to interrupt” Chris said slowly, dropping her things on her bed.

They turned red and quickly got away from each other, trying to cover their embarrassment “You didn’t, we’re just doing face masks”

“Without me?” Chris joked.

The three of them stayed there for the rest of the afternoon, and as soon as Andrew left Chris couldn’t help but tease Y/N about what she almost witnessed.

“So, I see you two are really getting along”

“I guess” Y/N replied, unsure of how to feel.

“What? Do you not like him?”

“I do… I think I do” She stopped to think about it for a moment “It’s been great but honestly i don’t know if I can take it any further”

“Y/N he’s like perfect for you” Chris stared at her friend, waiting for an explanation “Why not?”

“Because he’s not Dalton”

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert fanfic #dalton lambert imagines #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert angst #dalton lambert fluff #insidious #insidious 5 #insidious the red door #ty simpkins