#who raised me and sheltered me and will love me no matter what | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

girlgenius1111 · 2 months

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adjustments + acceptance

Sol gets a new friend. Mapi... adjusts. pretty much entirely fluff. brief descriptions of a panic attack.

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“Amor, are you sure about this?” Mapi asked, for probably the 10th time that morning. Ingrid just chuckled, looking sympathetically across the kitchen table at her girlfriend who had her black cat cradled close to her chest.

“María, you agreed already.” Ingrid implored, taking a sip of coffee to hide her smile at the older woman’s pouting.

Mapi let out a heavy sigh, pressing a gentle kiss onto the cat’s forehead. “I don’t want a dog.”

“I know, but Sol does. She wants one so badly she asked me if she could get one. You know what that means as well as I do, María.”

Mapi threw her head back and groaned. “You’re very lucky I love your sister.”

“I am very lucky.” Ingrid said, sending her girlfriend a soft, loving smile that the other woman instantly returned. Though after a second, she shook her head like she was pulling herself from a trance.

“You Engens. You make a face and I give you whatever you want.” She said grumpily. “It is not fair.”

“Maybe you should grow a spine then, María,” Ingrid laughed.

“You wouldn’t like it if I did,” Mapi teased, though she flushed red when Ingrid raised one eyebrow at her.

“You wouldn’t dare.” She said matter of factly, and she was completely correct. Mapi wouldn’t dare. “Alright, I’ll go get her. Remember, María, this is a surprise. Don’t be weird, and don’t tell her where we’re going.”

“I know how to act normal, and I know how to keep a surprise a secret.” Mapi scowled.

“You tried to throw me a surprise party last year and you were so weird, I thought you were breaking up with me.” Ingrid replied over her shoulder, leaving Mapi to sit and think with that one.

The Spaniard couldn’t deny that Ingrid had a point. Mapi took a deep breath, putting on a smile that she hoped was normal, that certainly wasn’t, and waited for you to descend the stairs, soaking up her last few minutes with Bagheera as an only child.

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Ingrid wouldn’t lie and claim she didn’t want a dog either. She absolutely did, and when you very timidly asked if it would ever be a possibility for you to get one, Ingrid had seized her chance. If Mapi had a soft spot for her, it was nothing compared to how she was with you. Ingrid wasn’t quite sure that her girlfriend had ever said no to you.

You were confused as to where you were going, until Mapi pulled into a parking spot in front of a shelter, and you got out of the car faster than either of them thought was possible. Your excitement and hope was infectious as you waited impatiently for your sister and her girlfriend to get out of the car, too.

“Are you guys being for real? You’re getting a dog?” You asked, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Mapi shook her head with a wry grin.

“No, you’re getting a dog. I will play no part in the ruin of Bagheera’s life.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at her girlfriend, pulling open the door to the building and gesturing you inside.

As Ingrid followed you into the shelter, watching the growing grin on your face, she couldn’t hide her own smile. At your excitement, obviously, but also that she was finally getting her way. As she normally did.

Her and Mapi had done some recon, and had a couple dogs in mind that the shelter said were friendly and easy going. They greeted the shelter workers, who had been expecting them, and began to lead you back to one of the first dogs they had chosen.

You didn’t even make it to the first option they’d selected. Instead, you stopped in your tracks at the third cage. Inside was a black and white border collie, a dog that initially Ingrid had considered. Though border collies were a lot of work, they were energetic and active. This one was a bit smaller than a normal one was, so Ingrid wasn’t worried about the size. As she had talked with the workers, though, she learned that he wasn’t very friendly, and he hadn’t shown any interest in anyone that had attempted to get to know him.

He’d been found abandoned on the side of the road, just outside the city. There were no signs of abuse, but he was, at their estimate, between 3 and 5 years old, so it hadn’t been an unwanted puppy. He had a collar on, which said his name, but the address and phone number had been scratched off. This, along with the place he was left suggested that he had been… just that. Left. This traumatizing event had clearly left a mark on the little guy, and he was now exceptionally distrustful of every human that interacted with him.

Over the course of the preliminary visit Ingrid had made to the shelter, she hadn’t seen him move from his spot wedged in the back of the cage, his deep brown eyes sullenly and apprehensively watching anyone who walked by.

So, Ingrid had ruled that dog out, knowing you would want a dog that would be up for doing activities with you.

Now, though, he was looking at you intently, his ears perked up on his head.

“Hi, buddy,” you whispered, crouching down in front of the cage. He didn’t retreat further into himself, like he had done when Ingrid had watched the workers interact with him. He didn’t get up either, but he did scoot himself just a bit closer to you. Ingrid and Mapi stopped, exchanging looks, before they turned to the worker.

“That’s Scout. He is very shy, and isn’t very receptive to anyone.” She explained, looking at you with pity, knowing the look on your face was one that meant you were already attached to him.

“Can I meet him?” You asked, not looking away from the dog.

Mapi opened her mouth to get you to move on but Ingrid nudged her, shaking her head. There was something about the way the dog was looking at you. Almost hopefully.

“Of course, but he probably won’t let you near him. He’s like that with everyone, so don’t be offended.” The worker explained.

You moved out of her way as she opened the door, before you carefully stepped in, taking a seat just inside the door against the wall. You regarded Scout carefully, watching as he sniffed the air in between the two of you with interest.

“Hi Scout.” You said, holding your hand out for him to sniff.

Mapi and the worker expected the dog to recoil, curl back up into a little ball in the corner of the room as far away from you as he could get. Ingrid wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting, but it wasn’t what occurred.

Slowly, Scout got to his feet, stretching carefully before he padded softly forward, still very tentative, and sniffed your hand.

All three of the adults outside the cage watched, astounded, as Scout gave your hand a lick. They all jumped, startled, when he bounded forward and launched himself at you. All three women flinched, expecting the worst from him. Instead of a surprise attack, though, he planted his paws firmly on your legs, and began eagerly licking at your face. His tail began to wag, and he looked like a completely different dog as you began to run your fingers through his fur.

You were laughing, trying to get him to leave your face alone, and the sound seemed to only make him happier, only make him more eager.

“Scout, no,” you laughed, pushing his head away gently.

The other workers had come over to watch, and they were in complete awe when Scout stopped licking your face, and plopped down on the ground next to you, resting his head in your lap. Scout was famous at the shelter for not listening. He knew his name, clearly, but the dog didn’t follow any instructions. Ever. They thought he hadn’t been trained, but it appeared he just had been waiting for the right person to tell him what to do.

You continued to pet his head, smiling down at him as he let out a very contented sigh, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Everyone in the building knew very well that there was nothing to be done, now. Scout had chosen you. And you’d chosen him.

When you looked up at Ingrid and Mapi, the biggest smile on your face that they’d seen in a long time, neither of them could have even thought about saying no.

You left the shelter that day with a very sweet new friend. He was perfect for you, truly. His breed was known to be energetic which was good for all the activities you liked to do. He was loyal, smart, and almost painfully adorable. You loved him instantly. And as Ingrid watched you both through the rearview mirror on the way home, she knew you’d made the right choice. There was something in his eyes that made our sister sure that he’d take care of you. Call her crazy, but dogs were weird like that, and she couldn’t help but think that this little guy had ended up in a shelter so he could someday be yours.

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Scout was attached at the hip to you, having decided that you were safe, and though he slowly got used to Ingrid and Mapi, you were his person.

And while Mapi understood that you loved him and he loved you, she wasn’t sure she could quite get over the change he brought to the house. He was slightly clumsy, always bumping into things and tripping her. He slept with his mouth open, and made little sounds as he snoozed, which bothered Mapi to no end. It grossed her out that he slept on your bed, and that he always tried to lick her legs when she came back from a run.

Mapi wasn’t a dog person. She tolerated Scout, but she didn’t think she’d ever enjoy him, or be thankful for him.

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Her biggest fear going into the whole dog thing, though, was that Bagheera would be upset. What actually happened was almost… worse, in Mapi’s opinion.

The damn cat refused to hate the dog. No hisses. No well placed smacks to the nose with her paw. The first few days, Bagheera ignored him completely, though he was very intrigued by her. He wanted to be best friends, and she would have preferred to pretend he didn’t exist.

After they spent more time together, though, it appeared that Bagheera warmed up to the clumsy dog, much to Mapi’s disdain.

You and Ingrid caught her giving Bagheera a stern talking to one morning, after finding her curled up on the couch next to Scout.

“You are not supposed to like dogs, Bagheera. It is against the rules. And you’re leaving me all alone here. I cannot be the only one that hates the stupid dog. He’s too big and too furry and too messy.” She ranted, scooping some food into Bagheera’s bowl. You and Ingrid tried to withhold your laughter from where you were standing in the hall just outside the kitchen, but were unsuccessful.

A small giggle escaped you, and it was such an absurd sound that you and Ingrid burst even further into laughter, stumbling into the kitchen and right into the path of one very embarrassed, and very annoyed, Spaniard. She glared at you both, only sending you both into another fit of laughter, until you drew the attention of Scout, who clambered into the kitchen, wagging his tail like he always did when you laughed.

“Oh perfect, now he’s going to make fun of me too.” Mapi scowled, crossing her arms over her chest in a very pouty manner.

“We’re not making fun of you, María, I promise,” Ingrid began, avoiding eye contact with you so as not to laugh again.

“You’re not?” Mapi asked, the crease in her forehead relaxing just slightly.

And at the same time as Ingrid went to respond, Scout decided to use his voice as well.

“No!” Ingrid said.

“RUFF” Scout barked, his tail now wagging furiously as you collapsed to the floor, laughing so hard your stomach hurt.

Ingrid tried to keep it together, really, but the prolonged eye contact with her furious partner proved to be too much, and she covered her face with her hand, body shaking silently.

“I hate you all.” Mapi said grumpily, picking up Bagheera, who gave a disgruntled meow, and jumped right out of her arms. The cat walked slowly over to her new friend, standing right next to him, as if to make a point. “Traitor.” Mapi called, before storming out of the room.

She shook her head at the loud laughter now erupting from the kitchen, and the occasional barks that joined it. She did wonder, though. Bagheera was a good judge of character. If she liked… him. He couldn’t be that bad, could he?

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Ingrid was annoyed that Frido wanted to have a sleepover with you and not her. Mapi was annoyed because Ingrid was annoyed, and Scout was furious that you’d left him behind. He laid by the door for a solid hour, seemingly flabbergasted that you’d left with an overnight bag… and without him. Didn’t you know that he was supposed to be the light of your life?

Eventually, though, he got tired of the doormat, and sulked into the family room where Ingrid and Mapi were watching a movie. He walked past Mapi, barely giving her a second look, before he jumped up on the couch without being invited, settling his head on Ingrid’s leg and sighing dramatically. Ingrid didn’t even flinch, just began to slowly stroke through the soft fur on the top of his head.

“Ahem.” Mapi said, clearing her throat rather obviously.

“Yes?” Ingrid asked, giving her girlfriend an amused look.

“Dog. Dog on the couch.” Mapi said, looking exasperatedly at her girlfriend.“Without being invited. Ingrid, we have rules, the dog is not supposed to come on the couch unless he’s invited and I did not invite him.” Mapi whined, growing more annoyed when Ingrid just smirked at her.

“He’s always invited when I’m up here, right Scout?” Ingrid cooed, smiling down at the dog when he began to wag his tail.

Mapi rolled her eyes, but dropped the issue. She did scoot over, though, right up next to Ingrid, resting her head on the Norwegian’s shoulder, in an almost territorial fashion. Ingrid noticed, and smirked, but chose not to say anything.

That one instance aside, there weren’t really any issues until it was time for bed, and Ingrid and Mapi were already under the covers, finishing the last steps of their nighttime routine. They had left your bedroom door open, expecting that Scout would sleep in there, as he normally did.

He walked right in through their bedroom door, though, over to Ingrid’s side of the bed. He looked at her, then, his big brown eyes looking hopefully up at her.

“No. Ingrid, no.” Mapi said, seeing very clearly what Scout wanted.

“Mapi, he’s just a baby,” Ingrid said, unable to say no to the very adorable face staring at her.

“He’s not a baby! He’s at least 3! That is 21 in dog years. A 21 year old does not need to sleep in our- INGRID NO.”

Ingrid had very slyly patted the bed, inviting Scout up, though she made sure he laid at the very edge of the bed.

“Make him get off.” Mapi whined, glaring at her girlfriend.

“Oh, he’s fine, María, he’ll stay right there, won’t you, buddy?” Once Ingrid used the baby voice on him, Mapi knew there was no changing her mind. She sighed deeply, laying down and begrudgingly opening her arms for Ingrid to snuggle into, ignoring the grin on her partner’s face.

“Goodnight, María, I love you,” Ingrid whispered into Mapi’s neck.

“Love you too.” Mapi replied grumpily, causing a small laugh to fall from her girlfriend's lips.

Scout remained at the edge of the bed for maybe 10 minutes before he moved a little closer to the women.

10 minutes later, a little bit closer.

When Ingrid and Mapi drifted off, he’d migrated up the bed, until his head was resting on one of Ingrid’s legs, and he had a paw on one of Mapi’s.

And when Ingrid woke up the next morning? It was to discover a wide awake Mapi staring at her, and a very sleepy Scout still passed out.

“Did you sleep well?” Ingrid tried, fighting back a smile.

“Don’t even try. We are burning these sheets.” Mapi said, shifting just slightly in an attempt to dislodge the dog that was tucked perfectly under the covers up against her, his head resting on her pillow. It looked like they were cuddling, and Ingrid wished more than anything in the world that you were here to see it. “He is never allowed up here again.”

“He’s sweet, María, really,”

“Never. Again.” Mapi said, her eyebrows furrowed adorably.

Ingrid knew that probably wouldn’t last, if the way Mapi was subconsciously petting the dog’s head was any indication, so she let it go for now, knowing it would just be a matter of time before Scout had Mapi wrapped around his finger.

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And really, if there was a way to Mapi’s heart, it was through the two Norwegians in her life, that she loved very deeply. She tolerated Scout because he took care of her sol, and she’d come to love him, too, for the same reason.

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You’d been doing so much better the past month or so. Knowing that you were here to stay had done wonders for your mental health, the threat of going back to Norway no longer hanging over your head. That didn’t mean that everything was perfect, though.

You still had doubts, still sent yourself spiraling sometimes when you thought too much. Particularly about your mom.

It was her birthday. Ingrid had assured you that you didn’t need to say anything to her, not if you didn’t want to. That had felt okay for most of the day. It was when you were left to your own devices, though, that you began to overthink, and began to doubt.

She’d missed your birthday and she hadn’t cared. You pictured her face, though, everytime you closed your eyes. Not her face, but her face. Nice Mom’s face. The mom that loved you, the mom that cut the crusts off your sandwiches, and held your hand when you crossed the street. Maybe this mom had never really existed, maybe she had just been… doing the bare minimum. Still, though, you’d spent many years thinking that she’d loved you. And you spent many more years wondering how you could get Nice Mom back.

It was Nice Mom you thought about that evening, while Ingrid and Mapi were off at a match. You’d stayed back, having an endless amount of homework to complete. This proved to be a mistake, and you knew that the minute you began to breathe a little too hard. The minute the thoughts started returning, the ones that told you that if your mother didn’t love you, no one would. The ones that told you that you were unwanted. Unlovable. Too much trouble. Not worth it. Bad. Bad bad bad.

You didn’t notice that you were crying until Scout was licking the tears off your face, and you didn't notice you were shaking until you began to pet him and your hands trembled against his fur.

It still felt unnatural to ask for help, to not just deal with it yourself. But in the time that you’d been accepting comfort and love from Ingrid and Mapi, it seemed that you no longer could deal with it yourself. You needed them, all of a sudden, which was a thought terrifying in and of itself. Still, you pressed the call button before you could think too hard, hoping more than anything that the match was over, and that your sister would answer.

“Hi Solstråle! We’re on our way home. What’s up?”

“How far are you?” You mumbled, shutting your eyes tightly and gripping onto the duvet cover under you.

“About 10. Is everything okay?” Ingrid asked, a touch of concern entering her voice. It was dumb, but she’d scored a goal today, which wasn’t a regular event, and the fact that you hadn’t commented on it when you were the first to celebrate her goals was slightly worrying.

“No. I- I can’t-. No, please hurry.” You told her, biting your lip as it trembled, wishing you could just be strong enough for yourself for once.

“Oh, honey.” Ingrid said sympathetically.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can, mi sol, I promise.” Mapi said, hitting the accelerator until she was definitely speeding. “How bad is this one?”

“Bad. Can’t breathe.” You whimpered, digging your nails into your leg in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

“We’re right here, solstråle, you’re okay, I promise.” Ingrid said, desperate to help in any way she could.

Now, all that could be heard over the speaker was your rapid breathing, and both girls knew you were past the point of being able to respond. They took turns talking to you, with no confidence that it would help. When you got like this, you needed physical contact to bring you out of it, a fact they were well aware of.

What they didn’t know, though, was that Scout had taken matters into his own…paws, apparently unimpressed with your grounding technique. Or, maybe he could just sense your distress, and did the only thing his rather small brain could think of. First, he put his head on your leg, a regular position for him to lay, and you barely noticed it. Then, though, he put a paw up as well. It wasn’t until he had both paws resting on your leg, licking your skin every so often, that you opened your eyes and looked down at him. He looked completely relaxed, and in a truly miserable shot in the dark, you began to run your fingers through his fur.

It was soothing, the soft fur and the steady beat of his heart under you. Amazingly, you could feel yourself trying to slow down your breathing, feeling yourself calming down just slightly. Enough that you could try the techniques you’d learned in therapy, and enough that you registered when the front door opened downstairs.

Help had arrived, but you weren’t quite sure you needed it anymore.

Ingrid and Mapi rushed up the stairs, expecting you to be in a state they’d only seen a couple times, but hated nonetheless. Instead, they were greeted with the sight of you on your bed, Scout sprawled across your lap, though he was much too big for it, a much calmer look on your face than made sense.

You gave them a weak smile, looking down at Scout, who, in turn, looked at them. He was just a dog, but his eyes were expressive, and Ingrid could swear he was judging them for leaving you home alone on such a day. Ingrid knew, almost instantly, how you’d managed to calm down without them.

Mapi evidently came to the same conclusion, because when her and Ingrid took their spots on either side of you, pressing kisses onto your forehead, and wrapping you up in a tight hug, Mapi focused first on Scout.

“Buen chico, Scout” she murmured, smoothing the fur on the top of his head. You and Ingrid exchanged smiles, while Mapi focused on the soft fur under her hand, and the protective way in which Scout laid across your legs. She decided, then, that maybe he wasn’t so bad. She could do more than tolerate him, if he was this effective. And tomorrow, she decided, you were going to the pet store and picking out a new toy for him. And maybe a couple treats.

Anything for her sol, and apparently, anything for your Scout.

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#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso fanfics #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #engen!reader #🍓☀️

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theemporium · 6 months

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🧸with Carlos please where his daughter brings home a cat (we all know how he feels about cats), but he becomes the definition of “dad who doesn’t want a cat but loves the cat more than anyone in the house”

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

“ARABELLA!”

A soft giggle could be heard before the sound of footsteps pattering towards the living room could be heard. It took less than thirty seconds before his daughter showed up in front of him, the look of pure innocence on her face as she looked up at him.

“Yes, Daddy?”

Carlos shot his daughter a look before pointing at the ball of orange fur sitting on the couch—on his spot on the couch. “What is that?”

“It’s a cat, Daddy,” Arabella said with a small giggle, like she couldn’t believe her father was actually asking. “The one that goes meow.”

“Yes, I—” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “What is it doing in the house?”

“He was alone,” Arabella said, her lips turning downwards into a pout and he could already feel his walls crumbling at the sight. “Mummy helped me give him a bath! He’s clean, I promise.”

“Did she now?” Carlos grumbled as he placed his hands on his hips, glaring at the small orange cat like that alone would make him disappear. “He can’t stay. We have to find him a new home.”

Arabella pouted. “But—”

“No buts,” Carlos shook his head. “We will find him a loving home, mi princesa, but he cannot stay with us.”

And Carlos had planned to stay adamant on the matter. He wasn’t a cat man. He didn’t like them. He didn’t see the appeal in them. They weren’t as friendly or social or loving as dogs. They were far from a man’s best friend, more like a man’s slightly temperamental roommate. He was not a cat man and he refused to house that cat in his house longer than he needed to.

However, finding the cat a loving home without putting it in a shelter seemed more difficult than he assumed. Days would pass, and the orange cat—now named Chilli, ironically enough—was overstaying his visit. He learnt to co-exist with the creature, but he refused to interact with it unless it was needed.

Or at least, that was what he told you.

He had complained about Chilli every night before bed. He would talk about all the annoying things he had done. He told you about all the ways the cat inconvenienced him. But if anything, it seemed like he was trying to convince himself that he hated the cat with the amount of pictures on his phone.

And then you had returned home after picking up Arabella from school to see the sight in front of you.

“Mama,” the young girl tugged on your sleeve and excitedly pointed at the couch. “Look at Daddy and Chilli!”

You snorted, already reaching for your phone. “I can see them, honey.”

“Ay,” Carlos grumbled, one hand raised to cover his face whilst the other rested on the back of Chilli. “What’s all the noise?”

“Are we ruining your cat nap?” You teased, watching as the boy’s eyes snapped open to stare at the sleeping cat on his chest before they shut again.

“This means nothing,” he told you.

“Uh huh.”

“I mean it,” Carlos continued.

“Right.”

“It just happened,” he assured you.

“If you say so. But there is another family looking—”

“No.”

You raised your brows. “No?”

“Chilli is a Sainz now. Even if he is annoying,” Carlos muttered before biting back a yawn. “Now let us sleep in peace, please.”

#cece's slumblurb party #carlos sainz #formula one #f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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vbecker10 · 30 days

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You Are My Home

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: Loki leaves you for a month to visit Asgard with Thor and you are more then excited to welcome him home.

A/N: This is not what I'm supposed to be working on right now but I listened to the song linked below on the way home and the damn thing just wrote itself... enjoy 💚

In the two and a half years you and Loki have been together, this is by far the longest you have ever been apart. Loki would often spend a few days or even a week away on missions but today is day thirty without him. He and Thor returned to Asgard to take care of a political matter and you were both devastated to find out you would not be able to go with him. You had cried yourself to sleep in his arms the night before he left and you haven't slept a full night since.

You spent the whole day anxiously awaiting this moment, he is finally going to arrive any minute. Looking at yourself in the window, you check your makeup and hair for the hundredth time, wanting to look perfect for him. You smooth out the fabric on your favorite dress and smile, Loki bought it for you to wear for your first anniversary. It is a deep emerald green and fits your body as if it was made for you.

The wind picks up suddenly and your heart beats faster, you know instantly the Bifrost is opening. You turn away from the building and walk across the grass to wait closer to the open area where they will arrive. You can barely contain your excitement as the air around you buzzes. Lightning and streaks of bright colored lights pierce the thick clouds and burn into the dried grass behind the Avengers Compound.

You force yourself to stay where you are until the wind ties down and the lights fade. You see two tall figures standing in the center of a charred spiral.

"Loki!" your legs immediately carry you towards him.

"Y/N!" he answers, his voice full of joy as he quickly moves to meet you. He pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you easily off the ground as he spins, making you giggle. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his desperately, as if you are trying to make up for all of the kisses you two have missed out on in the last month.

"Gods, how I've missed you," he says when you break the kiss, he puts you down and keeps his arms around you.

"I missed you every second you were gone," you tell him honestly. "Promise me if you ever go home again, you'll take me with you."

He raises one hand to stroke your cheek lightly, "Asgard is many things, my dear, but I don't call it home anymore."

You look at him curiously and he smiles, "I was going to wait to do this until tonight but I don't want to wait another moment."

He looks over his shoulder at his older brother who smiles at you both and takes a few steps away.

You cover your mouth with your left hand as your heart pounds quickly in your chest. "Loki?" you barely whisper in disbelief as he take a small step away from you and gets down on one knee.

A small ring box appears in one hand with a green flash and he takes your right hand in his other hand.

"Y/N, home is where you are and every night I spent alone on Asgard was worth it to come back to you. You are my home, you are my everything when I feel alone. You are my shelter when all my hope is gone. You are my heart, you are the one I want to spend every minute of every day with. I love you with every fiber of my being," he says as he looks up at you. "Y/N, my love, my queen. Will you make me the happiest man in the nine realms by becoming my wife?"

"Yes! Yes," you say excitedly as Loki stands. "I love you," you tell him as he slips the most beautiful ring you have ever seen onto your finger.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter @eleniblue

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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The first notes of Eddie’s guitar solo tear through The Upside Down; Steve watches in horrified fascination as the bats follow the noise, as they form a thick, black cloud, like a plague of locusts.

And it hits him then that he simply cannot set one foot inside the Creel House.

“Nance,” he says. His voice cracks.

She turns to look at him, and suddenly she isn’t a vengeful warrior with a sawn-off shotgun: she’s just a girl who lost her best friend, who has spent years haunted by ‘what if…?’

“Trust your gut,” she says firmly, and that’s all he needs.

He spends a fleeting second squeezing Robin’s hand, just to steady him, and then he’s running back to the trailer.

The one thing that reassures him is that Eddie and Dustin are perfectly on time, the song cutting off just as they planned. Now run, you two, Steve thinks, as his chest burns with the effort, get inside and be safe, be safe, be safe.

But then he reaches the trailer, and he knows that something’s wrong.

Because the bats are clustered in one spot on the roof, scrabbling over the top of one another, and it makes him think of flies descending on roadkill.

He gets past all the wire and defences, and none of them take any notice. He pushes the front door open with the force of his shoulder, slams it shut again, makes sure it sticks.

And then he hears screaming.

He whips around to find Eddie driving his spear through a bat with a guttural cry. He’s on the floor, his upper body shielding something.

And then Steve sees Dustin. Dustin on the ground. Dustin bleeding.

No.

He sprints across and covers Dustin, too, slotting next to Eddie to form a complete shelter.

“Steve,” Eddie whispers, and his face is ashen. “Fuck, it’s the vents, they’re in the fucking vents. I tried to—D-Dustin—I wasn’t quick enough, Christ, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

And he keeps repeating that, as if feverish, striking out again with the spear as another bat swoops for them. His aim is true, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s too late.

Steve looks down at the wound on Dustin’s thigh, at the blood spilling out relentlessly. And as Eddie cups Dustin cheek, pleads, “Stay awake, H-Henderson, you hear me? Dustin? Dustin, please,” Steve spots the bite on Eddie’s wrist. It’s barely anything, just a nick.

But it’s enough. Steve knows that it doesn’t matter how fast he is—the bats will just keep coming. They’re on the scent, to hunt. To devour. And his wounds are dried up. Old.

Fresh blood dripping from Eddie’s wrist. Dustin’s bloody leg.

Oh, you’re going to die, Steve thinks. Both of you.

Then he thinks Well, fuck that.

He flings off his jacket, wraps it tight around Dustin’s thigh. Dustin whimpers, eyelids fluttering.

“Shit, sorry, bud,” Steve whispers. “I know it hurts, I know, I know…”

Underneath the screech of more bats, he presses a brief, fierce kiss to Dustin’s forehead, pushes back his sweaty curls. I love you.

Eddie takes out another pair of bats in quick succession, slamming them with his shield—narrowly avoids their tails wrapping around his wrist. His luck won’t last forever, Steve knows that.

So he just has to be quicker.

He rips the end of his shirt with his teeth, pushes the torn fabric into Eddie’s hand.

“Eddie. Eddie, listen,” he says urgently. “It’s the blood, okay? They’re coming for the blood.”

Eddie wraps the fabric around his wrist as if on autopilot, eyes wide with fear.

“It’s the blood,” Steve repeats, as calmly as he can. “You’ve gotta stop the bleeding, okay? You can do that.”

Eddie nods jerkily, and some of his panic fades away, replaced with a white hot determination. He sets his jaw.

“Hey, Dustin?” Steve says. Tries to be gentle while raising his voice, praying it breaks through the pain-induced fog. “Eddie’s got you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chokes out. “I’ve got you, Henderson.”

His hand strokes through Dustin’s hair, too, and God, Steve trusts him. Trusts him so damn much.

Trusts him enough for this.

Steve jerks his head upwards to the gate. “Stop the bleeding. Get him home.”

Eddie nods again, but a wrecked laugh comes out. He ducks as another bat breaks in; Steve temporarily takes the spear, kills it without flinching.

“Jesus! How the fuck are we supposed to do that, Harrington? There’ll be hordes of those fuckers in a minute.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve says. He discreetly pats at his pockets. Feels the handle of the switchblade. Touches Dustin one last time, a palm across his brow. “Look after him.”

“Hey, I—I don’t like your tone, man,” Eddie says. “We’re looking after him, together. Together, all right? Fucking promise me, Harrington.”

“You promised me first, remember? Stop the bleeding, get him home.”

“No, no, no, Steve, don’t you fucking dare—”

But Steve is already heading outside. He locks the door behind him, just in case, but he already knows Eddie can’t leave—won’t leave Dustin behind. There’s a thump at the door, a desperate jiggling of the handle. Steve shouldn’t look behind. He shouldn’t.

But, God. He can’t help it.

Through the glass, he can see Eddie standing there, breathing raggedly. Terrified.

Steve can’t hear him through the cacophony of the bats’ cries, the thunder and lightning. But he can read his lips.

Don’t. Please don’t.

Steve brings out the blade. Slashes it right across his palm.

Eddie screams.

I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do.

Steve runs. He grins savagely as he hears the bats following him, all of them, like he’s the fucking Pied Piper of Hamelin.

Yeah, that’s right, you sons of bitches. Steve laughs through a searing pain in his side. You’ve already had a taste. Come and get me.

#tentatively saying 2 parts? tbd #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #the universes in which Steve is self-sacrificing are never ending

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mvniro · 2 months

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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 DRIP IT DOWN, ETERNAL BLISS ; a fyodor dostoyevsky fic. ❞

أنت قاسي، قلبي لا يزال ينبض لك. بنفس الطريقة التي تكون بها الشمس قاتلة، إلا أن الأرض لا تزال تدور حولها. في ساحة المعركة، دعهم يعرفون أنني كنت الأشجع. لكن أمام دموعك عندما أرادت رباطة جأشي أن تهرب. أوه هل كنت أحمق؟ كل العشاق هم. هل ما زلت أحمق؟ لا، أنا مجرد عاشق دون حبه، عاشق تجرد من كبريائه. رجل حرم من سعادته كأنها حمامة بلا جناحيها.

you are cruel, my heart still beats for you.

the same way the sun is deadly, yet the earth still revolves around it.

In a battlefield, let them know I was the bravest.

Yet infront of your tears is when my composure wanted to flee away.

Oh was I a fool?

All lovers are.

Am I still a fool?

No, i'm just a lover without his love,

A lover stripped of his pride.

A man depraved of his happiness,

Like without its wings, is a dove.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . it's my birthday week so a present from me ♡.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . fem!reader, vampire!fyodor, immortal!fyodor, husband!fyodor, wife!reader, established relationship, nsfw, blood play, religious themes used, God referred to as Him, biting, set in old russia, abuse is normalized, 'sweet child' has been used once as a nickname to put emphasis on fyodor being immortal, reader has been given traits like 'pure' and 'innocence' for the reason of again, putting an emphasis on fyodor, his immorality and him being a vampire.

the clouds roared and the thunders proudly announced the arrival of an upcoming storm, letting everyone below the vast sky of this specific region of russia whose name you never had the privilege of knowing despite growing up here as a infant, know of the dangers the grey and almost black sky is going to bring in a matter of time.

in a matter of a few hours or even less, most of the land below will be covered, almost drowned with the water as peasants would begin to curse while they picked their trash and transferred it upstairs or try to find shelter with all their possessions on top of their heads.

yet you did not have time left to ponder over what the peasant man will do to fight this unexpected disaster as the sound of footsteps reverberated through the otherwise silent hall of the mansion and you turned almost at once to see the man who owned this mansion walk in, his expression as cold and confident as it was the first time you saw him yet what paired with his pale skin and maroon, crisp shirt was a cut running through the length of his neck and disappeared behind but you guessed it must've ended near his shoulder blade.

the man raised his eyes and you dare not refer to him with his name unless you stand on a stage where your intellect and personality can clash against his -- these were the words that were punctured into your mind by the most gentle of mothers but also the most cruel of women who had fallen from their high class, married to a peasant for the sake of a promise made by fathers who they never saw.

"you are hurt." you quietly observed as you stared up at his delicately cruel and cold face, holding your chin high to not let your nervousness be disclosed.

but he had seen it, he sees it all.

he had tilted his head and raised his hand to probably run it through the gushing wound, had you not taken quick strides to grab his wrist and stop him from doing so.

"what had gathered your interest so immensely that had you staring out of the window for the past fifteen minutes?" fyodor, the man you are married to and which is considered to be the greatest achievement of your life ; to be chosen by him, grabbed your wrist which was holding his own and pulled you in closer.

your nose bumped against his shoulder and you immediately and unconsciously breathed in his scent for it was always oddly comforting, fyodor smelled of old books and oud yet the distinct crisp smell of the outside greenery also mixed in with his scent.

fyodor looked down to watch your composure crumbling as you grew nervous and tense when he raised his other hand to wrap it around your lower back, pushing you to be more closer to him.

to watch you drop the mask and show your vulnerability whenever he did gestures like this was too pleasurable and amusing for him. coming from a place where love and affection or even peace are concepts which are only available for one to hear and fantasize about, you never got used to being showered by the attention and interest of your husband ; a man notorious and admirable at the same time.

"it looks like it'll rain heavily." you speak quickly and nervously as you raise your head to look at fyodor, a childlike nervousness in your eyes ; the kind which is seen in a child when he arrives at a new place or is pushed to introduce themselves by their parents to adults whose friendly smiles are nothing but scary and ugly curls on their scary faces.

yet with that childlike nervousness, your eyes also held the wisdom and knowledge of a man given mercy after being brought to be beheaded ; this beheaded man who had calculated the time he had left before his head would be cut from his neck and who watched his surroundings and himself for the last time with an incredible understanding. you looked like you wanted to cry yet at the same time didn't want to move away from him, like a child who clings to his mother after being smacked by the mother.

the innocence in you had attracted fyodor who had seen so much that he forgot if he ever was innocent once.

he tilted his head down and your eyes fluttered shut, his lips gently came in contact with your eyelid as he left a kiss there before doing the same with your other eyelid and he leaned back to whisper,

"do you really have no one to go to?"

"you are my husband, you are my everything now. i'll go wherever you go and i'll go wherever you tell me to." why is it that your nervous and anxious voice had more impact then those of philosophers and kings he have heard?

fyodor led you by your waist to the couches where he sat on one of the velvet armchairs and pulled you to sit on his knee, staring up at you with no expression on his face yet his eyes weren't sharp like they always were when he talked to others, no, his eyes were soft.

"i spoke of you to a friend of mine. he too was amazed when i told him what a sweet little wife i have chosen for myself. i told him how i immediately make you sit on my knees whenever i come back and watch you shyly and at other times nervously squirm under my gaze." fyodor began as he played with the hem of your white robe under which the only article of clothing on your body was a white babydoll nightgown but your eyes were glued to the way the cut on his neck from just a few minutes ago disappeared and his skin appeared as if he never had any wound to begin with.

does this explain his beauty too?

one which is considered otherworldly and which exceeds the one of both women and men? for how can he look so delicate yet intelligent at the same time?

"he asked me why. can you believe he would ask something so obvious? has his age been playing a factor in asking such a idiotic question?"

". . .i wonder the same too sir. why?" you raise your eyes to look in his eyes again and fyodor raised one of his eyebrows but didn't look up or stop playing with your robe. he had just changed his action to now playing with the knot of your robe and he only hummed before he spoke,

"i am a man who thinks his wife should not be influenced by traditions or societal influence but by the word of Him and after Him, by me. please refrain from referring to me with titles that are meant for others." fyodor explained gently yet the warning in disguise in tone made you immediately nod and fyodor almost smiled, not quite, you supposed you would have to work harder and please him more to get the privilege of seeing him smile.

"alright then, . . . dostoyevsky. please do answer my previous question." you hesitate before you attempt again to dive into the surface of his mind to try and understand him, to take a step closer to get him to warm up to you in a way you are familiar too -- directly, not subtly like he does.

for greed is felt by humans and humans aren't angels filled with virtues, they sin and sin and then they beg for forgiveness before they sin again ; and everytime they repent, He forgives them and showers them with His mercy.

you raised your finger to gently trace his nose. your fingers felt cold on his skin, ironically, as usually it is him who has skin as cold as the cold walls of a room during a winter night. so why would he feel your touch to be cold?

cold to the touch, soothing to the sensation. a normal and well known gesture, a foreign feeling it bloomed within.

"i like pretty girls like you who are obedient and quiet yet also playful." fyodor muttured as he let you raised your fingers to the corners of his lips, pressing it against his skin and turning it up and down as you tried to make him smile and frown but the thought that itched at the back of your skull remained one you've thought of before as well ; when he would smile for real, would you feel breathless or would would rather feel groundless as the ground beneath you disappears to make you float in air?

"i am not that pretty. many others were prettier. though mother always told me i would be picked to be the bride of a nobleman over the preety ones due to my obedience. and at other instances, she smacked me with her bible till my skin cracked and i truly resembled what she would call the 'devil's nasty joke' on her, to be given a child who is ordinary in beauty unlike her." you tell as you pull on his upper lip to reveal his sharp canines which separates him from the rest and let his identity be known, gazing at the unusual sharpness -- to you, a human --with curiosity as you raise your finger to poke at the tip of his teeth.

a supernatural being, an immortal man, a vampire possessing great beauty and a man who is cursed by knowledge yet blessed by wisdom.

"your mother is preety but she has a loud mouth. i always liked when the women around me had strong opinions and strong will yet with an equally gentle mouth." fyodor interjected calmly as he then lightly sinked his teeth into the plush of your fingerpad, amusement glowed in his eyes when he felt you jerk a bit due to the unexpected teasing.

"and i do?" you ask in somewhat interest and somewhat surprise as your pupils fall on his face once again to see amusement dripping down his own eyes as he didn't answer you, didn't want to give you the relief of having your curiosity answered.

"sweet child, you make me feel divine." is all the ancient vampire breathed out and to save yourself from becoming a shy and nervous mess infront of your husband, you quickly change the topic.

"if you bite me, will it hurt?" your change in topic is abrupt but adorable. you leaned down to look at his sharp teeth better and in your eyes were the wonder and thoughts and assumptions and theories of what it would feel like to be bitten by him, to have your skin pierced by his teeth, to have his breath fanning your skin and to have his arms caressing the supple flesh of your ass, you blinked. then coughed nervously at the thoughts in your hand.

"hm, it will. alot." fyodor opted for a whisper to tease you as he looked at you but he sensed it, felt it and realised it all. the subtle clenching of your legs and the quick blinking once you realised your own thoughts and how they circled concupiscence.

"really? i feel like you are lying." adorable efforts and adorable suspicion as you timidly smile at him and fyodor hummed before he grabbed your hand (which had been poking and inspecting his sharp teeth) while he began to move his knee up and down and watched how your shoulders tensed before relaxing as you tried not to notice the slight pleasure his movements are giving you.

to ignore the way his knee bucked into your crotch everytime he moved his knee and how your panties were pushed towards your folds by his movement, you looked at fyodor to see him raise your wrist towards his lips.

". . .si --" you stop, immediately correcting yourself when fyodor's grip on your wrist tightened, "-- dostoyevsky, what are you doing?"

you did not need to ask, you knew he would be answering your curiosity in a way that it would leave you satisfied and without any more doubts but the time period before he does so is of now and this time period is making your heart beat faster in anticipation and erotic joy due to the movement of his knee.

"quiet. love." he muttered out.

oh he did, he certainly did!

he used the pet name again. and again, he watched. he watched as you whimpered quietly and nodded, falling silent as you can't bring yourself to look at him, shyly staring at his mouth and waiting for him to proceed with his action.

with a strange calmness, you waited and watched. fyodor found it amusing how a mere nickname got you squirming but his action didn't.

parting his lips to sink his sharp teeth into your wrist where your veins were visible, fyodor perked up at the reaction he craved out of you, which came late, a gasp of surprise.

a melody fyodor wanted to engrave into the depths of his mind.

"you lied dostoyevsky, it doesn't hurt at all." you speak after a few seconds of silence as you inspect the way the blood flowing through your veins entered his mouth and flowed down his throat, was it like water to him or did he have separates tubes and enzymes for this blood -- your blood.

"it doesn't?" fyodor whispered out to tease you with a faux surprised tone before continuing, "then what does it feel like, love?"

the nickname sits nicely on his tongue and he likes the way it rolls off his tongue and the effect it has on you.

"have you not heard it before from your previous wives?" you tilt your head, the ecstacy of having his thumb run across your wrist as he tries to soothe the piercing and churning like pain from your wrist is what is making your tongue so loose and sharp. yet when the depth of your words settled on your tongue, your heart sank. what did you just say?

"you are my first wife."

"oh."

"oh indeed." fyodor repeated with a smirk, the only closest thing to a smile you assume you'll see because there is no way fyodor would smile or even talk to you after the way you've disrespected him.

he may not be showing it but a man doesn't like being disrespectful and a respected man knows the clear line separating playful teasing with sugar-coated snarky remarks.

you aren't one though. you are young and naive and you mix up silent amusement for having taken offence. your hands shake in fear of these negative thoughts walking in your mind being true.

a thing to be noticed before going further is the use of 'sharp teeth' or 'sharp canines' instead of 'fangs'. the use of such terms instead of the other and more commonly known one is due to your stubbornness.

fyodor may be a vampire but he is not an animal and so, you try your best to view him as a human but he isn't one and so, unconsciously the words like 'canine' pop out.

old habits do die hard and old traditions are just someone's expectations and way of living being forced onto others.

fyodor knew it, he always did. nothing escapes his eyes afterall. and has anyone wondered what this would make him feel?

such a naively idiotic way of thinking that only humans are capable of as they spend lives in misery or happiness which is actually delusion in disguise.

"p-please forgive me dostoye --"

your words were cut off as the man leaned to place his lips on your's, the metallic taste in his mouth lingered and entered your's albeit faintly and was soon washed away by his saliva. your eyes were open in wide and visible surprise yet once fyodor separated, as if to just remember the feeling of your lips on his for memories have always been his companion.

and memories are the only thing as immortal as him, as ever living as him and as enchanting as him.

"call my name again." fyodor whispered out as he felt the hair on his nape rising as if to welcome the doom of him and of his heart.

falling for a mere mortal, oh, what a tragedy!

indeed, it is Him laughing at fyodor for the predicament He himself placed on him, he is sure of this much.

oh father, why has thou forsaken him?

why be so cruel to let him fall into the garden of love, it's a sin for someone like him. a sin he is committing on himself.

to love is to die for. to die for is to love.

"dostoyevsky?" oh.

heavens and the angels residing in it, is this a curse or a blessing?

fyodor closed his eyes and tilted his head up to exhale deeply as he needed a moment to process and to repeat the frail call of his name in his mind, he felt giddy and he felt disgustingly giddy.

"once more." fyodor demanded in a whisper as he tried to find his way through this garden where flowers bloomed and the sunlight showered on trees and the ground, making them relish this light falling upon them. this place doesn't feel hostile but unfamiliar and fyodor knows the dangers lurking behind that which is unfamiliar.

"dostoyevsky." you had gasped out this time when fyodor's hand, as if it had a will of its own, dipped in between both of your legs to grasp the under of your thigh and fyodor let out a satisfied breath.

"once more." he repeated his previous words. the flowers moved in one particular direction with the wind and fyodor, with skepticism guarding him, followed the path it pointed at.

"dostoyevsky. are you alright?" you leaned forwards to cup his pale yet extremely handsome face between both of your hands as you tilted his head down and after thinking for a few seconds on what to do, you leaned to leave a gentle peck on the tip of his nose as your eyes fluttered shut while doing so, due to shyness.

this doesn't make sense. fyodor thought as he stood at the destination the garden seemed him to want to arrive at yet all he saw a vast ocean which spreaded till infinity and the sun's reflection on the surface of the water was nothing special.

yet when you kissed the tip of his nose, there was a movement in the still water and fyodor felt himself getting irked at the slow realization. the ripples in the water slowed along his heartbeat.

love is like a ocean, deep and mysterious and no matter how much one tries, has there really been anyone who ever understood the sin that love is?

". . . seventy three." fyodor uttered slowly as he opened his eyes and stared at you.

"pardon?"

"this is the seventy third time i smelt the arousal oozing out of you, my love." fyodor mumbled to you in amusement as he watched whatever confidence was left in you, vanishing and crumbling.

you knew it would be of no use to make an excuse or lie, he would see through you anyway.

perhaps fyodor noticed your chain of thoughts as well as fyodor's hand which was grabbing the under of your thigh, lifted it up to have your legs parted and your core to be completely vulnerable to him and he tapped your cunt with his knuckles making your breath hitch.

"hormones, they give away many things about someone. the excited signals in your brain and your heartbeat -- they give away a human and his intentions very quickly." fyodor further explained even if he knew you, or any human, would be able to fully grasp for this is far beyond what the human mind is functioned and trained to think.

"remove." fyodor quietly ordered and you nodded quickly, breathing pattern uneven and not in rhythm is just making it more evident of how spot on he is when he caught you red handed.

caught you? but what is their to catch? it's not a crime to feel aroused by your husband who only touched you no more then thrice during your nearly reaching one year of marriage.

you slowly yet carefully undo the knot of your robe before fyodor raised his hand to push the robe down your arms and onto his lap as he removed it, his hand trailed down the length of your arms as he did so and when you moved to find a more comfortable position to sit on his knee, the prior protection of the robe now stripped away to let his eyes fall upon every curve and every inch of skin uncovered along with the feeling of your core moving against his knee, the primal urge took over fyodor.

even a vampire has instincts and primal urges that he can ignore for a long time but can never be free of it.

the babydoll nightgown did the purpose it had, to tempt the man who parted his lips to let his tongue out and moisten the bottom lip, in a attempt to feel anything other then the arousal burning through his veins.

fyodor abandoned your thigh and raised his hand to place it over your neck and added pressure to it as he glided his hand down to make you feel a small and faint burning sensation as he did so and you did.

but what followed his action, this simple test, is the result he was hoping for.

for the reason behind this action of his was to hear your breath hitching in your throat as if your body suddenly forgot the way it naturally worked. your heart hammered in your chest but you still ignored it to let out the words,

"if my obvious arousal for you is so obvious . . . dostoyevsky. then . . " you trail off to stare at his face and you smile a bit, nervously before it falls down from your face and you are once again left to be anxious at the reaction he will have but you cannot stop now, not when the subtle way his tongue lapped on your wrist when he sucked your blood is still something you can feel like a shadow lurking behind a traveler on a full moon light.

you take a deep breath before shakily raising your hand to place it on his collarbone and after looking at his face for any signs of displeasure and not getting any, you begin to caress his collarbone.

"then why be so cruel as to not relieve you of it? is this it? is this what you wanted to say?" fyodor smirked again as he took in the sight of the surprise dancing at every nook and crook of your facial features.

and with a slow nod, you watch as fyodor leaned near you to peck the tip of your nose and then leaned his head down to lick a strip up your cheek towards your cheekbone as his eyes narrowed.

"beg for it if you are so desperate." fyodor muttured against your cheek, you close your eyes.

"you are my husband. it's your duty to satisfy me." you murmur back but due to your eyes being closed, you missed the chance of seeing his lips curve up into a amused smile just the slightest bit as your words brought up a sense of amusement.

playful. oh how much fyodor likes these moments.

"you ruin my reputation. don't you know i'm not supposed to be this gentle, my love?" fyodor sighed out as he decided to adopt a more serious and sincere mood, letting the playfulness in his evaporate in thin air.

but desire, oh it precipitated when fyodor's hand traveled down to raise your nightgown up and he then used his hand to grab hold of the back of your thigh to part it and have your cunt be more visible to him as your underwear showed a wet patch.

"is it my fault?" you ask with a nervous smile and shaky breath, a smile that doesn't fail to convey your affection and anticipation for the man who nodded. rather then answering his playful accusation, you raise your slightly trembling hands to pull the hair tie that had been keeping your hair in one place. "may i?"

once fyodor nodded to grant you the permission to do as you wish, you leaned a bit forwards as you used both hands to gather his hair and style it in a ponytail as a means to distract yourself from the hammering of your heart due to excitement.

yet fyodor must have sensed your intentions and this is why he immediately grasped both of your thighs in his hold, lifting you up slightly as he shifted his body to lay you down on the couch next to the armchair you two were occupying till now.

fyodor isn't a man of many words so during such an intimate moment, his eyes did the talking and it made blood to crawl up your skin under the intense and hot gaze of his eyes which were narrowed, a glint in them so unnatural and unhuman that it made you aware (that is, if you forgot of his nature for a moment) of the genetic and biological difference between you two.

you nervously held your breath as fyodor sat on his knees above you, still holding both of your thighs apart after which he raised his eyes to look into your eyes and the way his lips parted as he smirked, his fangs glinted due to the light falling on them.

"not gonna beg me?" fyodor asked again yet his usually calm and stable voice had noticeably dropped a few octaves, sounding extremely arousing considering the state you are in and the way his words are being partnered up with his fingers which caressed your calves.

you take a deep breath but it doesn't calm your nerves for whoever talks big about being level-headed and calm must've never been under fyodor dostoyevsky when he is smirking and pridefully showing off his fangs while sweatbeads forms on the sides of his lips and frankly, you hope no one ever gets the privilege after you die.

selfish but that's what makes us human.

"n- i mean yes . . .er no, wait --" you stutter while watching fyodor raise your leg towards his mouth as he placed a soft kiss on your ankle before he began his journey higher up your leg and every kiss which followed from here on became unique due to being accompanied by a quick nibble on your skin, his tongue licking your leg or even bluntly biting your skin.

"time is running, love." fyodor murmured against your leg as his eyes stared up at you and you parted your lips but what were you even going to speak when no words in your favor were forming in your head?

you lay your head on the couch cushion as you let out a breathy whine, a sound fyodor himself greedily repeated in his mind but originality always reigned over mimicry.

with each kiss traveling upwards the length of your leg, fyodor leaned down and down instead of raising your leg higher.

"time isn't one to wait for anyone. not even for a man like me. so tell me, are you going to beg or not?" voice turned sharp, a breath was stolen from your windpipe cruelly when fyodor's lips reached your inner thighs and he clamped his mouth shut, sinking his teeth into the fat of your thigh.

you could feel it as his fangs pierced your layers of skin and flesh, drawing out blood and gifting you with a shrill kind of pain but it soon turned into something else you can't comprehend when fyodor began to suck on the abused area, it didn't pain yet neither did it feel good -- it felt something in between.

your eyebrows furrowed in thought as you tried to comprehend this sensation which is very new to you. fyodor raised his eyes again to watch you and once he found you behaving the way he wanted ; distracted, his lithe fingers slipped past your panty and entered your hole without any warning which made you jerk up as you let out a squeal of surprise while at the same time, your hole sucked his lithe middle finger in and made him let out a hum of approval.

"dostoyevsky --" you were not able to speak as the moment you called his name, fyodor pulled his finger out and thrusted into your wet entrance again and suddenly the sucking on your thigh is making sense, now that his finger is slowly moving in and out of you, you feel his mouth on your thigh is only adding to the anticipation and arousal building in you.

"that's my name, yes." fyodor smirked cruelly as he stopped the movement of his finger as it settled knuckle deep into your hole and he lifted his head to stare at the two small circles on your thigh and the nearly red skin around it.

fyodor stopped holding your other leg and used his free hand to pluck a few strands of free hair that the ponytail wasn't able to cage, behind his ear as he stared down at your panting form with a calculative gaze.

"i do not entertain brats. you want something? you be a good girl and nicely request for it --"

"please dostoy?"

fyodor let out a sharp breath as he raised his eyebrow, a silent order for you to repeat yourself and you do, leaning up on your elbows as the strap of your babydoll nightgown dropped down your shoulder, you timidly repeat yourself,

"please dostoyevsky. please?" you do not go in detail of what you want due to shyness and shame. fyodor doesn't mind as the moment the three words left your lips, a low growl of your name emitted from his throat as he immediately leaned forwards and tore the straps apart, the fabric of the nightgown teared into two by his hands as they pulled the fabric apart to reveal your naked breasts to him.

fyodor lowered himself on you, between both of your legs and your wet core as he lowered his mouth on one of your nipples and touched it with the tip of his fang, making you shudder.

at the same time, fyodor's lithe fingers swiped up some of the oozing blood from your thigh and brought it towards your lips, shoving his finger inside your warm mouth when you parted your lips and the small hum of disapproval at the ironic taste of blood had fyodor grazing your nipple with his sharp fang, providing a ticklish yet arousing sensation.

the short moment of tease died when fyodor moved himself up and pressed his crotch down on your core, making you shudder as your back arched. taking this chance, fyodor's hand traveled to your back and he immediately and harshly pushed down your panties, letting them pool by your feet as he did not bother to take them off fully due to being impatient which is out of character for him but when have someone actually stayed fully composed when the nimble hands of lust slowly dragged themselves down the abdomen of the person they are affecting.

due to the confinement of his pants, fyodor's dick pressed against your core when he pressed down, a painful kind of pleasure traveled to his body and he found himself doing it again and again, letting out short hisses at the painfully addicting and mind numbing sensation.

"dostoyevsky please. i need you so bad -- want you so badl -- m-mhmm." you closed your eyes when fyodor lowered his mouth and bit down on your skin below your breast, hard enough to draw blood but the pain was evened out by him dry humping against you.

"you make a man loose his mind." fyodor gritted his teeth before he whispered something in a language foreign to you, perhaps an ancient language and by the familiarity of the word, he was cursing for you remember the same word being used in multiple occasions with a frustrated tone, why would he curse?

for he wanted to do to many things, feel too many sensations and give you too much pleasure but alas, he two, has only two hands yet his brain, oh, his brain is a wonderful organ and works better then most of those who walked on this earth and perished on it.

"so much, so so much." fyodor muttered again in a language you understood and spoke since the beginning of your existence after you gained enough conscience to use verbal communication. he messily and clumsily undid his belt, removing his pants and practically kicking them off his feet, he let out short pants and his eyebrows were furrowed ; a sight enough to make you cum and fyodor noticed your hole sucking in air and so, he immediately pinched your labia in such a manner that between both of your lips was your clit as a prisoner of pleasure.

"you make me loose my mind so much. make me loose my morals and forget my manners." fyodor continued as he released his hold on your folds for a second to let the pleasure vanish before he pinched them again and as your folds squished around your clit, you let out a small sigh akin to a quiet moan.

"do you know how many times i've thought about bending you in a public place and taking you?" fyodor groaned at the remembrance of his perverted fantasies, he leaned down to bite on your skin again and this time, it drew out blood but the pain wasn't noticeable, not when fyodor pushed the tip of his cock against the spot on your thigh which he had bitten to smear the last wet drops of blood on your skin and on his tip, he groaned again at the messily erotic sight.

"there is only one solution for this." fyodor muttured as he leaned his head up to lick at your breast, his tongue stopping only when it hovered above your nipple as he wanted to let the bite he left on you to be undisturbed until it had enough blood flowing out of it.

without looking away from your eyes and without moving his face away as he pressed his tongue down on your nipple which hardened up, fyodor used both of his hands to spread your legs and try to clumsily push his cock inside your slit. his body weight falling on you, his tongue pressing down on your nipple yet not quite making any friction and his eyes which didn't tear away from your's even once ; all served to add to the pleasure he gave you as his dick bumped against your folds many times before he finally entered your slit while using his index and middle finger to spread your folds apart.

his tongue began to show movements as he licked a strip along your nipple before encircling around it and then it came, the moan you bit back and instead the choked breath you let out when his lips clamped down on your nipple and he began to suck on it, alternatively doing this and pulling your nipple with his teeth.

for every action in nature, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

fyodor pulled his dick out and he could feel the anger of your cunt at the sudden emptiness at it squeezed around thin air, arousal dipped out of you as it weeped for him to enter again, your hips spasmed as if heartbroken by the sudden lose of him . . . your entire body wanted him, didn't it?

this made fyodor shudder in satisfaction, his cocky nature taking the best of him as he smirked.

fyodor's lithe fingers traced down your fold and down the length of your inner thigh as he rubbed his finger on the spot which was faintly smeared in your blood, this made his dick ooze out precum and he thrusted inside you again.

you barely opened your eyes to lift your head up, spotting his free hand which was on top of your thigh and grabbing it to raise it towards your other breast which had been neglected for a long time. with your hand on top of his, you placed his hand on your breast and squeezed it, letting out a loud and breathy moan as your eyes closed once again.

"so eager." fyodor couldn't help but notice, thrusting into you slowly, in an antagonizing slow pace but to make up for it, his hand harshly squeezed your breast as if to tear your mind into two, to make you confused on which sensation to focus on.

fyodor's tongue flicked your nipple one last time before he lowered his head to place it on the spot he had bitten, now that it had a fairly safe yet good amount of blood pulling and he pressed his lips against the fluid. he lifted his head up towards your face and kissed the side, almost the end of your lips and dragged his lips down as he left small pecks along the way and the blood left its trail on your skin.

fyodor's dick picked its pace all of a sudden as he did not want the pleasure to disappear for even a second, he was sure to steal your breath away and leave you addicted to his touch, he will make sure of it.

his dick despite being clamped down by your walls, remained indifferent as he thrusted in and out, his ears drank the moans and whines your lips were letting free and his hand came down to grip your hip tightly, tight enough to leave a bruise.

fyodor went down to press his lips against your bloodied skin again, kissing the underside of your boob in the process before he raised his face to leave an open mouth kiss on your shoulder.

fyodor's dick entered with a particular thrust and touched your g-spot but he didn't pull back and rather, lifted you up by pushing on your hip till the tip of his dick touched your cervix.

it was a repeating process for fyodor to dip his head down and gather blood on his lips and then smear it down your skin as he kissed your body. your back arched when you felt his hand leave your hip to grab your thigh and spread your leg more, your leg dangled off the couch as he thrusted in again with the same pace he started out with ; slow yet deep.

yet his movements on your breast remained hard, harsh and fast and he, once after finding his action repetitive, switched to pinching your nipple and pulling and twisting it between the pads of his index and thumb, returning to his original action once he found this new one to grow repetitive and he alternatively switched between these two after every few minutes or perhaps, after every half minute.

"dostoyevsky." you moaned out and fyodor at once froze before he hummed and began again to ravish and abuse and mark your body as his, treating it delicately yet passionately, letting out short growls and whines every once a while.

fyodor's sacks began to tighten the moment your walls increased the intensity with which they clamped his length down and this was done after the second thrust to your g-spot and beyond it -- to kiss your cervix.

fyodor raised his head, licking his bloody lips and smirking arrogantly at how you appeared below him and how much more he can ruin you further, his hand abandoned your breast and grabbed your own hand instead. he clasped his fingers with your's and pushed your hand down on your stomach to have you feel the bulge his dick in creating inside you as it moved in and out and once again in and out before he pushed it in deeper and deeper inside.

his head kissed your g-spot and kissed it, and pressed on it harder and harder. fyodor's tongue licked your bottom lip before he bit down on it to draw out blood but he wasn't satisfied with this, he went down and bit down on the side of your neck and shoulder.

your legs raised as if on instinct and you wrapped it around his thin and small waist while your free hand grabbed at his clothed back and digged hard, your lips now letting out loud moans.

"i am gonna --dostoy -- ah - ahh. please let me cum, please please. harder -- please faster. don't stop, ah - oh, dostoy. dostoyyyy." you whined out his name when he pressed your hand down on your stomach harder while he used the other to grab and squeeze your breast again, digging his nails into your skin as he smiled against your skin to hear you being such a mess for him, to hear your shyness disappear due to the pleasure he is giving and bringing out a bolder side of you.

fyodor lifted himself on his knees just a bit to have a new and fresh angle to thrust inside you, his balls smacking against your ass harshly with each thrust he did and his dick went deeper and deeper, kissing and hitting your g-spot and cervix.

pleasure waltzed down your torso and up your feet as if to meet with each other with extended hands, fyodor's fangs pierced your skin as he continued to bite down hardly on your skin and his nails digging into your skin also drew out blood. the smell of so much blood made fyodor's breath to quicken and he moaned out. immediately the hands of the two forces of pleasure touched each other and with a moan akin to a scream, you came.

". . . dostoy?" you panted out while your hips spasmed as fyodor helped you ride your high out.

with a hum, fyodor lifted his head and blood had tainted his fangs. you raise your free hand to cup his jaw and pull his face towards your own as you left small and continuous pecks on his lips, kitty licking the blood off of his lips.

after a moment or two, fyodor's pace made you scream again as it increased at a inhumane pace, to give one an insight, you were able to respire only once between two or three of his quick thrusts.

he whimpered and pushed his lips hardly against your own, kissing you with force as he thrusted in again. the tip of his dick touched your walls and just the next second, ropes of sticky white shooted out and coated your walls white.

fyodor's body fell on top of your's as he tried to catch his breath, having no intention to pull out of you anytime soon.

rather, once he had calmed down a bit, he pushed his dick deeper to push his cum into you more and hopefully, into your womb.

"do you like the taste of blood now, love?" he quietly asked as he inspected the trail of blood he left on you -- from your cheeks to neck to shoulders to (faintly) your breasts and below it and above it -- wherever the eye could see, fyodor tainted your skin with your own blood.

you licked your lip before answering, "no, i like the taste of your lips."

━━━━━━━ 💋 end.

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twigg96 · 30 days

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Hi! Can you do daryl dixon x y/n where Daryl gets protective over y/n when a creepy guy won’t leave her alone no matter what she says so he punches him across the face, ending in like comforting fluff/ smut or both ❤️

Hello @dustbunniess!! This sounds like a great idea! I'm so so sorry it took me so long to get this out to you love so much has happened since you asked for this I'm just trying to get by.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader

Era: Post-Prison, Pre-Terminus Era (Claimers Era)

Pronouns: You/Your, She/Her (No use of Y/N)

Warnings: The Claimers, Daryl with the Claimers, Attempted Sexual Assault, Crass behavior and language, Swearing, Physical Violence, Assault, Blood, Panic Attacks, Confusion, Delusion, Daryl becoming a literal savage, Abuse, Death, Beatings, Daryl reliving past traumas, Doing what you have to survive, Things happen off screen,

Summery: After the prison fell you were left alone in a world you felt was unfair and cruel. And who could blame you? Truly after all you'd been through? You changed from the person you were in the prison. But then... so did everyone else... When Daryl your boyfriend is the first to find you out in the world you see just how much things have changed with the new group he's in.

Separate Ways

It was when the prison went up in flames that you knew it was over. There was no going back. No redemption. The governor… in some sick twist of fate. Had won. Although your family had taken his life, and the lives of all his followers. You were all left to suffer, and after such a horrendous outbreak that you all had thought you defeated too… The difference was. This time you were completely on your own. No friendly face to turn to. No guiding hand to help you. Just you and the corpse you stabbed in the skull.

You had followed the screams out. So sure you were following Rick and Carl… but so soon you realized you were completely and utterly wrong. Trudging through the woods towards the highway you knew was your Emergency escape route you cursed your lack of preparation. No water, no food. You knew you had to act fast. Find shelter before the sun completely set for the night, find food before you starved... trudging through the thick forest you quickly found a path to follow. It had paid off to have followed your boyfriend on so many hunting expeditions and to help him on runs.

Coming to a stop you stilled your breath slowly scanning the wooded area around you. Nothing but trees and leaves surrounded you even though you had thought you heard the soft crackle of leaves, the snapping of a twig behind you. It wasn't loud and obnoxious. Something you've come to expect of walkers by now. Nor was it natural and fluid like the wildlife you had so greatly come to miss. It felt human. Large and concise. Hunting. Shivers ran down your spine. Bobbing and weaving through the tree line you darted back out onto the road that you had left in favor of the camouflage of the forest. Pulling your rifle you aimed blindly. Footsteps coming nearer. Louder. Like a bear charging it even growled. Placing your finger on the trigger you stepped back. "Stop!" You yelled.

A boy scrawny and pale came tumbling out of the brush. No older than Carl he looked up to you, his eyes wide and fearful he shivered in fear. Plastered in mud and blood you stared him down panting as the adrenaline left you both. Slowly he raised his hands high, shaking like a leaf he shook his head. "I-I'm so sorry." He whispered. One of the governor's, you realized. "I-It's my sister. She's hurt real bad... please..."

Glaring daggers at the teen you hissed through your teeth, stepping forward your weapon still raised and pointed directly between his eyes. "And why should I help you?" You growled. "She's all I got left." He whispered a tear running down his cheek. Hmm... at one time in life you would have felt pity. You would have run to his aid in a heartbeat. Now... Now however you scoffed at him. "Shoulda thought about that before you got yerself blown ta hell and back." You hiss lowering your gun. With wide eyes the boy watches in disbelief as you sling your pack off your back and rummage through it. "Y-you're just going to let her die?!" He screamed. "Pretty much sounds like you are kid." You growl, pulling out the last of your protein bars before slinging your bag back over your shoulder. "Standing there ain't doin' her no favors so I'd hop to it if I were you." You muttered taking a bite of your bar and walking down the road a stretch. Stomping on the ground like a toddler who didn't get his way the kid whined. "No I'm asking you for help!" He yelled. You wanted to turn and glare. You wanted to yell and scream. Hell you wanted to shoot him. But the growling and the thick rustling of leaves alerted you to the oncoming horde early. In his rage he must not had heard. Until they were right on top of him. You wondered briefly if his sister was among them.

Alone again you let the road take you where it will. across a bridge and through a town that was overrun with walkers. It was there you adopted a few walkers to help you navigate the thick hordes in the streets. Releasing them into the next life once you made it to the next side of town you sighed the tire marks in town leading to a hospital you'd rather not go near. So instead a set of train tracks that you crossed became your path. Instinctively you listened for trains. Your boots worn with wear stuck in the wood and on the nails. It was there you saw the first sign. "Go to Terminus." Your heart swelled. You didn't know where they were. How close they were. But you had to hope. Maybe. Possibly. They were safe.

Resting against a garage for the night you closed your eyes for what felt like a mere second. It most certainly wasn't hours... or so you had thought. Leaves and twigs had become your best friend in this world. The early indicator of something to come. But this time it was more. Loud. Uncaring if it was heard. Jumping awake you reached for your gun by your side but before you could grab it a large boot kicked it away. The large man standing before you sneered at you. "So she's awake." He laughed as you pressed yourself as far into the metal wall as possible. Three more men stepped out of the woods around you both. The laughed and jeered at you kicking at your feet as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "Bet she's good." One said. Another had the sheer audacity to grab a handful of your hair and sniff it. As you went to slap him another grabbed your hand the leader with the grey hair chuckled.

"Claimed."

Two voices chimed out at the exact same time. The leader's sleazy voice and another more familiar voice that made your chest hurt with expectancy. You had waited. Hoped. Dreamed. Hell you even dared to pray for the day to come again where you'd hear your love's sweet voice again. But not here. Not now. Not looking down the barrel of weapons pointed against you.

The leader turned. Glaring at the man who dared to oppose him. Stepping into the light of the moon Daryl looked... different. Changed. His eyes were distant and dark even in the night. "Daryl..." The leader hummed his scowl melting as he turned to the archer. Tutting slightly he shook his head snapping his fingers the other men moved in on you. Two men grabbed your upper arms, hauling you to your feet while the others grabbed your shit. "C'mon now..." He growled. Giving your boyfriend a look. "Ya know better by now than to try and just claim whatever ya want... specially if ya know I'm gonna claim it." He cooed circling Daryl menacingly.

You had expected Daryl to act. The Daryl you knew would have. He would never have stood there and took the shit these creeps were giving either of you... but this Daryl... this one you knew in passing but never truly met before... he bowed his head. He turned away. He simply murmured something low. Soft. Something you couldn't hear.

The leader nodded eyeing you. His expression morphing. From wolfish and greedy to concentrated and scanning. "A'ight..." He sighed running his hand through his hair. "You gonna let us teach him a lesson?!" One of the men currently bruising your arm screamed. The others rallied behind him. Cheering and jeering they whooped and hollered. The men holding you jerked you back and forth making you stumble back and forth between the two. There was silence and for a moment contemplation on the leader's face that made your heart race. "Search her... Daryl and I got business to discuss." He growled turning around he spun your boyfriend with him grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him into the woods.

They dumped the contents of your bag onto the ground. Screams of "Claimed" ripped through the air and you were certain you'd be overrun by a horde any moment. Ripped apart limb from limb by the dead you had survived for years because of a few fucking morons. When all of your supplies including the bag itself and your rifle and ammo were claimed... the men turned their eyes on you.

"Can't touch 'em til Boss gets back." One chimed in as a particularly greedy one stepped forward. "Yeah... but she got pockets don't she?." The man hummed placing his hands on your waist. The others whistled and hollered once more as you backed away as far as the other two would let you.

"Don't you fucking touch me!" You hissed, baring your teeth to the bastard. Nodding he chuckled following you he grabbed you once more this time burying his hands deep in your pockets, attempting to cop a feel. Rearing your head back you growled and head butted the man landing a blow directly onto his nose. The satisfying crunch it left and the blood that trickled down between your brows onto your cheeks like war paint was proof enough. "I told ya not ta fuckin' touch me!" You screamed.

"Hey!" You heard the leader scream from inside the barrier of the forest. Immerging from the shadows of the trees the leader stormed up to the group with Daryl following behind like a kicked puppy. The one you hit writhed on the ground holding his face he whine and whimpered as the others parted like the sea for the leader who grabbed you by the jaw getting close enough to smell the rancid canned food on his breath. "You really got some fuckin' nerve." He bit out. It took everything in you not to spit in is filthy fucking face.

Standing back up straight the man huffed glaring down at you a glint in his eye you didn't like. "Now boys... as you know Daryl and I both called dibs at the same time..." All eyes on you. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat ready to fight to your last breath. "Now Daryl has made me aware of something very important here... a rule. See he did... in fact... call dibs first. He called dibs Long LONG before he met us. This here... This is his wife."

Wife? You blinked but tried not to look too surprised. Daryl was locking eyes with you. A quiet desperation there only you could see. Keep the act up. Stay strong. You glanced between Daryl and the leader. You felt the man holding your right arm tighten his grip adding another fresh bruise to your bicep. "Bull shit." He growled, his hands slid down your arm to your wrist twisting it back and up painfully so that you yelped out in pain and doubled over. "I don't see a fuckin' ring on her finger!" He yelled.

You heard footsteps. Not one set but two approaching you. "He's right... no ring..." The leader spoke directly above you. His boots shufled to turn towards Daryl's. "But..." He spoke again his boots shifting again as you felt a new calloused hand take your left hand, the promise ring you bore sliding off your ring finger made you feel naked and cold. "You were looking at the wrong hand..." The leader said his voice low and cold. The man holding your right arm released his grip stumbling back. Sitting back up you twisted out of the other man's hands for a second before he took your wrist lightly.

The leader held your promise ring up examining it. Your initials were carved into the inside of the ring. Something Daryl had done himself with his knife back at the prison when he found a set having stolen the idea from Glenn of course. "Teach him a lesson boys." The man grunted out gesturing with his head to the man who shook his head and begged for his life. You stood stock still as the others circled him like sharks to the drops of blood that fell from his face. Even Daryl who's eyes went as dark as the night nodded to the command, picking up something from the ground.

Your vison blurred, all you could see was Daryl's back. Blood splattering. You heard the screaming. Jumping at the hand on your shoulder you looked to the man turning you away from it all. "I haven't properly introduced myself yet." He murmured watching you swipe pink tears from your cheeks. "I'm Joe. I'm the leader of this here group. The Claimers. We don't normally keep women long... They get passed around a bit and then... well we get bored and they end up roaming as one of the other biters." He chuckled eyeing you up. Hyperventalating you shook your head pulling away slightly when you felt his arm wrap around your waist. "Now now," He whispered in your ear. "You're a valued honorary memeber." He cooed but his expression became cold and dark. "That means... you work for what you keep. You start with shit. And half yer shit goes to Daryl. Like in any good marriage." He said menacingly, grabbing your wrist. "Oh and one last thing... I get to taste you one time... just part of the deal Daryl and I worked out to let you live."

Cut between confusion and pain you wondered if all the promises Daryl ever made to keep everyone safe were in vain. Who was he? Was he really the man you met back at the Quarry and fell in love with? No... Probably not... He was different. Changed. Evolved into something different. Looking over your finger as Joe slipped your ring back on your finger you felt sick to your stomach. This Daryl, dripping in another man's blood was animalistic. He was brutal and cold.

That night Joe told everyone to just bunk down in the garage. Safer. He said. You tried to clear your head of the mess of a human corpse outside the metallic walls. Following close behind the others you followed Daryl like a lost puppy. "Claimed" Echoed through the building as all the "good" spots were being taken. But Daryl just stood. He waited out in the open and waited with you by his side. Never once looking at you or acknowledging your existence. "Dar-" You tried to speak but was only ignored as he turned away once everyone went quiet. "Claimed." He yelled out when he found the most secluded spot in the garage behind a tarped tactor.

Pointing to the ground he looked around for a moment, waiting for your to sit on the ground. "Dar-" Shaking his head he knelt pulling a blanket from his bag he tossed it over you. "Here." He muttered. Not looking at you. Never looking at you. He stood and walked back out of the garage.

Even with the wool blanket you felt alone and cold. Even more so than when you were actually traveling alone. You hated it. This feeling of abandonment. Blinking back tears your glared at the ceiling wrapping yourself tight in your blanket you tried to fall asleep.

Hours passed. You hadn't slept. How could you with the men snoring like chainsaws all night. But the door opening and closing quietly didn't go unnoticed. Rolling over you turned to Daryl as he approached you slowly. Kicking his boots by your feet he laid down beside you. Lifting the blanket you welcomed him into the warm environment you created with time. You fully expected him to turn you away. To roll away and huff. But instead he scooted close. pulling the blanket over you both.

His arms were around you in a second. Finding tender blossoming bruises he burried his face in your neck. The wetness of his cheeks stained your dirty shirt. "Thought I lost you." He whispered. "Wasn't gonna let anyone take you... Not..." He went silent pulling you as tight as ever. Happiness and warmth swelled in you. Love and security. Wrapping your arms around his neck you kissed the top of his head, running your fingers through his wet hair.

Truth be told he still smelled like a wet dog. Musty and damp. But he washed off. Didn't stop you from feeling angry and betrayed. "Daryl... Why did you tell Joe..." You swallowed the doubt that still reigned suprieme and rampaged like a tornado in your mind. "Why did you tell him he could... have me?" There was a moment Daryl was silent. You thought he would lie. He would divert the situation. But instead he pushed himself up on his elbows and cocked a brow. "Never said that." He whispered. "Did that prick say that to ya? Say ya owed him somethin? "He whispered his eyes scanning you worriedly. You nodded slowly watching his reaction. Nodding Daryl hummed. "Ok."

Blinking you tried to read his face in the dark. "O-Ok?" You whispered. Nodding he lowered himself down to your ear. "Can't say out loud what I want to do ta the bastard. Someone could hear." He breathed. "Oh..." You tensed. You eyes instinctively scanning for threats but the dark felt claustrophobic and you wanted to simply run.

You were kicked awake early the next morning. You hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep. Another night of closing your eyes and suddenly jerking awake to danger feeling entirely unrested... Nothing new but you could never get used to it either. "Up an 'em, sweetheart." The man with greasy hair murmured. In the morning light you could see the shiner that was swelling half the man's face. A large cut ran down his forehead to his cheek that in the old world would have required stitches to keep it from scaring but now would just prove as a lesson to the man to listen better in Joe's twisted system. "Waistin' daylight..." He growled once more glaring at your boy- No. Your husband.

Daryl seemed to respond in kind. Huffing at the man he stood with a low painful groan. "Let's go." He murmured softly offering a hand to you.

You followed on Daryl's heels throughout the day like a duckling to their mother. Keeping your eyes on the wings on his back, you tried to stay strong and keep from physically acting on the men who treated you more like an object than a human. "Why you carryin' yer own bag when you got a bitch ta do it fer ya?" The rotund one called, chuckling as you moved to Daryl's left away from him. "No on would blame ya if ya went off and unwound on her for a bit... hell I'd even let the boys have a turn when I was done." One of the men with a beanie called out smirking at you from across the crick you had all stopped at to refill your canteens in. Holding your middle you glared at him. Daryl stood handing you your canteen. Reaching out you caressed his arm to sooth him. You were safe if he was here. He couldn't be if he was hurt or dead. He needed to act rashly.

"Shut up." He hissed despite it all. The Dixon temper was never one that could easily be quelled. When pushed down it only became more explosive. More dangerous. "What did you fucking say to us?" The three men rounded you. "We're just tryin' ta be friendly like." The greasy haired man that woke you growled. "Don't need no friends." Daryl growled stepping up to him. "Daryl." You whispered, reaching out to touch him but decided against it when you saw the crazed look in your husband's eye.

"Enough."

Joe's commanding voice ripped the fight apart before it could start. "Len, go fetch some firewood and scout the area. Got a feeling we could get lucky 'round here. Tony, go sharpen that damned blade of yours it couldn't cut butter if we had any for fuck's sake let alone take a biter down if we needed. Dan, fuck off with Len. Set up a perimiter. Daryl. Go hunting for dinner." Joe gave out orders like it was nothing. But your heart pounded in your chest and and nearly leaped into your throat when he met your throat reaching into his bag to grab something. You watched Daryl closely. Every muscle tense and primed to act in case Joe acted pulling something. His hand snaking to the pistol he had hidden at his back.

"Honey, I need ya ta wash our shit. Our clothes, specially our socks and boxers are really starting to get ripe and chafe us. I think you could handle that much... huh?" He purred walking up to you handing a small bundle of used men's socks and boxers. The smell was horrendous and made bile rise to your throat. You had to force yourself to breath the same way you would in a hot summer day around a horde of walkers to get by. "Ok..." You whimpered nodding. Freezing when you felt his hand on your shoulder you stood stock still. "And, sweetheart..." He hummed, his grip becoming incredibly painful his soft expression turning hard. "It's sir to you... Yes, sir. Say it." Whimpering you tried not to give into him. You didn't fall to your knees or bow as he desperately wanted you to. Instead you turned to glare at him your hair swirling around your, a single tear as his only satisfaction. "Sir, yes, sir." You growl stumbling as he pushed you forward into the water.

Hours passed by. Joe gave you meaningless task after meaningless task. Anything to see you in a compromising position. Scrub his boots. Wash his hair. Wash your hair. Sort their bags. Weave a basket. (Something you didn't know how to do and utterly failed in doing.) When he ran out of tasks to give you he made things up. Jump in place in front of him. He tried to make you bathe in the crick but when you threatened to cut his balls off he laughed and said it was a joke.

"Hey..." Len's voice cut through your newest meaningless task. picking up acorns while Joe watched. Looking over your shoulder you cocked a brow at the man that seemed far too excited to have just been told to fuck off for a few hours. "We found something." Dan muttered. Walking out of the woods with a string of rabbits Daryl glared hard at the ground. You'd seen him through the treeline throughout the course of the day. Taking aim at Joe at certain angles when he was certain the older man wasn't looking. But Joe always laughed or shook his head. "I know your watching Daryl. Go back to hunting." Or a promise of "I won't touch if you don't shoot."

"We found a camp!" Len cheered, pulling you from your thoughts. "A camp?" You breathed without thought. "Hell yeah girl." Joe murmured misreading your concern for excitment and curiousity. Or rather ignoring it completely as he slapped you hard on the back making you drop the acorns you gathered. "Come on let's show our newbie how it's done..." Joe said smiling so much like the devil that when you actually met him years later you'd never believe it.

The camp was small. It only housed two people. A man and a woman. The woman gathered baby supplies on a pink baby blanket before her. Brunette hair caught the wind just so that her face was concealed an you never truly saw her face. The man was undoubtedly in love with the woman. From the distance you hid you swore the couple were Glenn and Maggie. Your heart pounded deep in your chest. Your breath caught in your throat and you had to stop the scream that threatened to rip through you.

"We flank from all sides." Joe whispered so low you could barely hear him over the ringing of your ears. "Daryl." He whispered, moving closer to the two of you as the others moved into position. "I want to actually see you in there this time. No late arrivals." He hummed nodding as Daryl grunted in response.

"C'mon." No.

"Darlin'... We need ta move." Daryl whispered. No, God please no.

Your entire body shook, your eyes wide as saucer plates. Moving forward in the brush you only stopped when you felt Daryl's hand on yours. Turning to Daryl fear in your eyes you shook your head. Not again.

Pulling you away into the denser brush as Joe began his speech to the couple you could just barely see the others moving in.

Your body jerked when the screams started. Pulling at Daryl's hand you sobbed hard. "Daryl!" You wailed only to be pulled back his hand covering your mouth so your sobs were muffled. "It ain't them." He whispered. Pulling you incredibly tight you felt him bury his face in the crook of your neck hot tears rolling down your collar bone mixing with your own. "It can't be them."

That night you all slept under the stars. Fire lit and as warm as you could be in the middle of fall you and Daryl were of the first to retire, finding a spot in the dirt to bed down you laid against a large tree your back pulled against him. Just like when you two started dating out on the road. His wool blanket provided enough warmth to the both of you that the ground didn't bother you. Even with the rocks and roots digging into your side.

Just as you started to nod off you jerked awake to the sound of sets of heavy drunken footsteps. Daryl's arm wrapped tight around your middle. pulling you close. The others had found liquor at the camp and indulged heavily in it. Only Daryl and Joe refused to touch it.

"Claimed!" One man screamed loud. Belligerent. The smell of booze stained the air and made your empty stomach turn. "Nuh-uh." Another hissed. "I already claimed that spot." Len... Daryl had told you to watch out for him. He had an issue with claiming what wasn't his. he'd claimed what little food Daryl could get out hunting while on patrol.

"Bull shit!" The other man, you assumed to be Ivan screamed back. "It's true!" You tried to tune them out, squeezing your eyes shut breathing slowly, hoping you and Daryl went unnoticed. But as the fight got worse and worse you couldn't help the way you physically jumped when Tony landed on the ground on his back near by the two of you. Covering your mouth Daryl pulled you tight against his body as the two men rolled onto the wool blanket then off again.

You couldn't sleep after that even if sleep found the two that fought just a few moments ago. Turning to Daryl you buried yourself deep in his chest. "What was the wife thing about?" You got the courage to ask when all was quiet and the snores of the men matched the previous night. Shaking his head Daryl laid back staring at the night sky. He was silent for a moment. Whether he was waiting for a break in the snoring or simply listening for any eave's droppers you'd never know. "Probably shoulda done it a long time ago... just..." His words fell off going silent. Sitting up you captured his eyes in yours. "I love you, Daryl." You whispered. "We'll find them... I promise." But he remained cold. His eyes dark, distant. "Get some sleep."

Time seemed to go in a blur after that. Days and nights melded together. Didn't matter which was which truly. You never felt rested. Your stomach never empty. Daryl attempted to feed you his portions. But as the lowest on the poll he got scraps as it was and you hated taking what he had.

You were tired and underfed when you found Rick, Michonne, and Carl. You had believed that they were just visions when you first saw them. Len held you by the arm. "Gotta make sure she gets in on the action with this one!" He yelled, jerking you around. Wide eyed and in disbelief you gapped like a fish. These people looked just like your family.

"Rick?" You managed. Silence. Joe turned to you his eyes questioning before he gripped you hard. Jerking away you tried to free yourself from his grasp. "Hey! Let her go!" Michonne screamed from the grasp of another man. "Don't you fuckin' touch her!" Carl cried. You nearly wailed out and fell to your knees in pure bliss and euphoria. Hearing their voices. Knowing for a fact they were real. But you were on the ground before you could act. Your face to the pavement you groaned as a boot ground against the back of your skull holding you there. "I've got one free ticket to paradise here boys... why not use it while the pickin's good?" Joe hummed.

You screamed as hands grabbed at you before you could even process the cold pavement below or the screams of your family by your side. Swinging with all your might in any direction you could get a good hold on you connected a few good hits. The yelling from your family was nightmarish. You forced yourself to close your eyes Not wanting to witness or watch what could possibly be happening. Daryl had shielded you last time. Alone you felt vulnerable and terrified.

The boot on your head made your head pound and ache. It was crushing your head and it felt as if your brains would spill if they stepped any harder. Your hair was yanked. Your blouse cut down the back. But before anything else could happen. The person on your head. Joe you believed. Stumbled off. A resounding smacking of knuckles to skin echoing through the woods. Sitting up your shirt slid from your shoulders as you stared wide eyed at Daryl. He had gotten one good swing in. Glancing to you was his downfall. He was dogpiled before he had the chance to say otherwise but the others forgot the knife in your boot. They forgot to check Carl or Michonne in their haste.

Blood pooled on the highway. The five of you stood gasping as one family unit once more, covered in blood but victorious above all odds. Gasping and staring down at the ugly hideous creatures below you, tears rolled down your cheeks. Daryl once again refused to look at you. Instead he offered his vest to you to cover you up with. Instead he turned and glanced to Rick a heartbroken boy staring at a man looking for forgiveness.

You were enveloped by Michonne and Carl before you could say other wise. Not that you would ever pull away ever again. Pulling them close you watched the makeshift brothers share a silent conversation. One guarded and afraid.

The other loving and accepting willing to forgive.

Rick held Daryl tight as he cried and the three of you migrated to them. Hugging them tight you rested your head on Daryl's shoulder, closing your eyes. For the first time since the fall... there was a small flicker of hope.

#the walking dead #twd #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #dark fic #dark themes #dark thoughts #the claimers #twd the claimers #tw violence #long post

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cumtastiics · 7 months

Note

I'd totally like a full fic of Aurelius running around his little concussioned, semi-amnesiac patient!

YAN! DOC x G/N READER

tw(s); yandere & mentions of iv's a/n; this has no official title since i'm lazy sorry :p the post that inspired this here oops this became more angsty than i thought if you wanted more fluff erm sorry ab that!! lol!

would def make this fluff if u guys want

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple.

Some nurse thought it was a great idea to let you out of your room, almost causing Aurelius to get a heart attack.

"Where's (Y/N)?" He asked the lady at the front desk, his patience leaving.

"They were taken out by that nurse of theirs. The cute guy everyone's been falling in love with," the women spoke, taking a bite out of her granola bar, paying no attention to the others around her.

Aurelius clenched his fists in frustration, his jaw tightening as he fought to contain his anger. "That 'cute guy' needs to learn some boundaries," he muttered, raising an eyebrow at the nonchalant woman. He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to give her a piece of his mind or find you as soon as possible.

Deciding to keep his emotions in check, he forced a strained smile. "Well, thank you for the information," he said, his voice dripping with false politeness. Turning on his heels, Aurelius stormed off in the direction the nurse had taken you.

He couldn't understand how someone could be so irresponsible, oblivious to the potential harm they could cause. All he wanted was to ensure your safety and well-being, and now he had an additional cause for concern.

As he wove through the bustling hospital corridors, his thoughts raced with worry. What if you had been injured or distressed while under the care of the oblivious nurse? The mere thought made his blood boil, making him want to throw up.

Just as he rounded a corner, he caught sight of you standing near a window, seemingly oblivious to the chaos they had caused. Relief washed over Aurelius, briefly suppressing his anger. "There you are," he sighed, his voice filled with a mix of concern and irritation.

"You look mad," you commented, your eyes looking through the window, not paying any attention just like the women from earlier.

"Who brought you out?"

"Some guy. Dunno his name,"

"You're left alone, and not even in a fucking wheelchair for that matter," he spoke, his voice sounding more annoyed as each second passed.

"Sorry..?" You offered, not really wanting to deal with him.

You were finally able to get some fresh air, and you were not going to let him ruin your chance.

'Let's go," he grabbed your arm, making you almost fall over. Aurelius's grip on your arm tightened, his anger boiling over as he yanked you towards him.

"You don't get to just wander off without a care in the world," he growled through clenched teeth. "I'm here to protect you, and if you can't see that, then maybe I shouldn't even bother." His words stung, although you understood his concern.

"I didn't mean to cause you worry," you said, trying to steady your voice. "I just needed a moment to breathe. But I'm fine now."

"Fine? You call this fine?" he scoffed, his grip still firm on your arm. "You could have gotten hurt, kidnapped, who the hell knows what could have happened? And you think it's just fine?"

"I'm not gonna fucking die without you!" You yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

"Yes, yes you will!" Aurelius's voice grew cold, his eyes flashing with a toxic mix of anger and superiority. "You're nothing without me. You're weak, helpless, and if I'm not there to protect you, you'll end up getting yourself killed."

His words tore through you like a knife, the toxicity of his possessiveness becoming unbearable. Anger swelled within you, fueling your determination to stand up for yourself.

"I'm not weak, Aurelius. I can take care of myself. I'm not some fragile little thing that needs to be sheltered from the world," you shot back, your voice laced with a newfound strength. His grip on your arm tightened even more, his face contorting with rage.

"You think you're so tough? You think you can survive out there on your own? You're delusional. You need me, whether you like to admit it or not."

"No, I don't," you replied defiantly, staring him straight in the eyes. "I need someone who respects me, who trusts me, and treats me like an equal. Not someone who thinks they have the right to control my every move."

Aurelius's facade of superiority shattered for a split second, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. But it quickly turned back to anger, his toxic traits taking hold once more.

"You're just a fool if you think anyone else could ever care for you like I do," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "But go ahead, try to find someone else. You'll see how quickly they abandon you when things get tough."

You finally got back to your room, after what felt like ages. He glared at you, as you avoided eye contact.

You felt like you were constantly walking on eggshells, never knowing what would set him off next.

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lyvhie · 2 months

Note

i really enjoyed your first fic😭 can you write a smut about renjun? i dont have an exact topic in mind

reassurance | hrj

boyfriend!renjun x gn!reader (18+ mdni)

summary: what do you mean he's jealous?

cw: smut, oral (m receiving), petnames.

"no way..." you raise your eyebrows in surprise. "you are actually jealous. like, totally jealous."

renjun pinches the bridge of his nose as he heard your words, letting a long, heavy sigh escape his lips. "i'm not jealous," his voice calm as always, although he couldn't fool you.

a little smirk creeps on your face as you get closer to him. he was sitting on the bed, his back resting on the headboard, his arms crossed as he furrows at you.

he trust you completely, so he thought it was impossible for him to have been jealous. yet, when someone else flirted with you, it was inevitable that he would feel uncomfortable. he wanted to wrap his arms around you and protect you from the outside world, shielding you from prying eyes and keeping you safe and close. he couldn't help but feel possessive and protective, wanting to shelter you from any unwanted attention.

"you know what really grinds my gears?" he narrow his eyes slightly. "people perving on you like you're just some piece of meat!" his jaw clenched as he keeps trying to remain calm. "it's so gross and it completely ruins my mood. why can't they keep their lustful eyes to themselves?"

you looked at him with amusing eyes, sitting beside him and cupping his face on your hands, squeezing it together softly. "did you know you look very cute when you are jealous?" you chuckle softly.

"that's not funny, babe," he rolls his eyes, his cheeks a warm up from your teasing. there's no point in try to deny it. "i just don't like the way people look at you sometimes. and i don't like feeling this way, it makes me feel like i don't trust you, even though i do."

as you notice he's quite upset with this, you stop your teasing and let your lovingly eyes roam over his face. "it's okay, my love," you say as you peck him on the lips. "it's not like we could control these feelings, right?" you gently caress his cheekbones with your thumbs as you reassure him. "i know you trust me, it's okay to feel this way sometimes. i'm glad you told me how you feel."

he felt kinda relieved that you weren't mad at him for being jealous and didn't scold him or something, instead you kept being all sweet and understanding. "it's just... you should see the way they look at you," renjun's voice was quiet, as if he was embarassed. "they don't just think that you are beautiful. it would be ok if it was just that, but... they want you."

you couldn't help but laugh softly, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning slightly on him. "does it really matter if you are the only one who owns me, sweetie?"

renjun smiled as you wrapped your arms around him. his brow knit together at your question, though. it was a fair point that you were his, but it still didn't sit right with him. "i don't like other people imagining themselves being with you," he said bitterly, almost as if he was disgusted with the thought.

"wow, that really made you overthink, hm?" you shake your head slightly. "let me fix that real quick," you say as you pull him close and begin to kiss him. your hand gently moves to tangle his hair between your fingers as you press yourselves together in a sensual and passionate embrace.

you kissed him like you owned him, your lips claiming his lips as yours. your hand stroking his hair brought even more softness to this moment. he couldn't help but to succumb to this love, his heart beating fast and his breath running shallow.

it was only after pulling away for the kiss that he realized that you had made him shut up for a bit.

"feeling better?" you ask playfully. he was still a bit stunned by the moment, taking a few seconds before clean his throat and answer you. "y-yes, a little, i guess..." his face flushed as he looked at you with his cute eyes.

"awn, just a little?" you pout. "then i think i should make you have sure," you said moving your lips to his jawline, kissing him there and trailing kisses down his neck.

you could hear a soft sigh escape his lips as he tilt his head slightly to give you more access to his skin. "y-yes, please, i think t-that would be good," he said softly, closing his eyes as he enjoys the feeling of your lips on him.

he was so immersed on the sensation that he doesn't notice your hand moving until he feels it caressing his cock through his sweatpants, making him breath sharply and whimper softly.

you knew he was sensitive when it comes to you and it never fails to make him even more attractive in your eyes. "this hard already, love? with just a few kisses?" you tease, whispering on his ear and nibbling his earlobe. he feels his face getting even more red by your comment, he should be used at your words at this point, but he just couldn't help but feel shy about that. "y-yes, b-because... because it's you, y-you know?" he said in a low tone, opening his eyes to look at you, his pupils dilated.

you laugh tenderly, pecking his lips again. "you are such a cutie, renjun," you shake your head. "i have no choices but help you with that, right?" you wink playfully, pulling down his sweatpants along his boxers, revealing his hard cock leaking with pre-cum. it made you unconsciously moisten your lips with your tongue. your hand gently grabbed his dick, slowly stroking it to warm him up.

just a simple handjob had him moaning and trembling from head to toe, his breath quickens as he shut his eyes tightly. "please, babe," he whine. "f-faster," he pleaded, now looking at you with his puppy eyes. how could you say no to that?

well, you wanted to give him a full experience, so you keep stroking him slowly as you move to position yourself between his legs, now facing his cock. renjun watches you with hungry eyes, his heart beating wildly as he waits for your next moves. you stuck your tongue out, licking all his lenght first, swirling around the tip before taking him into your mouth.

his breath becomes ragged, and he leans back agains the headboard, lost in the pleasure coursing through his veins. "fuck, babe," he gasps, his hands instinctively reaching for your head to guide your movements—not that he needed to—, his fingers tangled on your hair. "f-feels, ah, feels so g-good."

the feeling of your warm, wet mouth on his sensitive flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to bite his lip to keep from cumming right then and there. his toes curling and his eyes rolling to the back of his head. he loved the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him and the way you look up at him with your does eyes. jesus, he always feel in heaven when he have you like that.

renjun's grip on your hair tightens as you continue to please him, his hips bucking involuntarily in response to your skilled ministrations, his loud moans and whimpers were like music to your ears. he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge, and he knows he won't last much longer. "i-i'm going to—i'm going to c-cum!" he warned, his voice strained.

you just hummed in response and quickened your pace, bobbing your head up and down fastly, you always know when he was close because his moans become a little bit more shrill. he held you closer as you took him deeper into your throat, he could feel his orgasm building up inside of him. he couldn't hold back any longer. with a loud groan, he released his cum into your mouth, filling it up with his hot, sticky semen. his legs shaking with such an intense moment.

you swallowed it all willingly, smiling as you pull his cock out of your mouth with a soft 'pop'. you were smiling satisfied, seeing him panting and all flushed. his dreamy expression was always an amazing view.

"like it?" you ask raising an eyebrow. again, it took him a few seconds to compose himself. "you know i love it," he said a bit breathless, making you humming in satisfaction. "good, because now it's time to return the favor."

a/n: hii anooon and all readers! hope y'all liked it, was this good? i don't know, but thank you for reading 'till the end <3.

quick question; which do you prefer?: 'y/n', 'name', '__' + variations? i wasn't sure about which one i should use, so i had to make use of petnames 😭😭

also, thank you for all the love on my first post! i don't know if i'll keep doing good, but i'm happy for now if you guys are enjoying! and again, i hope you like it, anon! i wasn't sure about what i should write for renjun now, i'm sorry </3

#renjun smut #renjun x reader #nct dream #nct x reader #nct smut

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Teaser]

Yoongi and Jimin are each proud owners of hybrids, and these days, slowly falling in love with one another. And everything could be so perfect- if it wasn't for you absolutely resenting Jungkook- for no reason?

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though

Length: ~850 words

Read Here!

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"But she hates me!" Jungkook complaints, as he stands in the cabin Yoongi is currently unloading the groceries in. "There's no way she'll sleep in the same room as me." He huffs, and Yoongi sighs.

"Well, she has to learn. I already talked to Jimin about it-" He says, putting everything into a box that doesn't have to be stored in the fridge. "-and he agrees that he's spoiled her quite a bit until now. She needs to learn to be a bit more independent." He explains calmly, though he's internally very well aware of your distaste for his dog hybrid. He knows exactly why- but he also respects Jimin's decision to not tell Jungkook anything about your past trauma, claiming that that's something you need to tell, no one else.

And Yoongi agrees with that- but he also feels for Jungkook, who's been really trying to make you warm up to him. He already struggles to find friends due to his intimidating hybrid side and sometimes rather chaotic personality. Seeing you so defensive against him does clearly hurt, no matter ho much Jungkook tries to play it off.

But for once, Yoongi also wants to be a little selfish. He wants to spend time with Jimin, alone time away from you both, just to properly figure out where he truly wants this to go from here on out. It's why he's organized this trip in the first place. To find out if this could truly work out.

And he fears, deep down, that it won't. Because if you and Jungkook don't get along, there's no way Yoongi can ever be happy with Jimin.

A few hours away from the Cabin Yoongi and Jungkook are already setting up, you're pouting next to Jimin in the car, slumped down and with your arms crossed. "Making that face won't make me turn around, princess." Jimin says, voice light- but inside, he's torn. This is going to be tough for you, considering that you're gonna have to stay with Jungkook during the night- and the poor dog hybrid has no idea that you don't actually hate him. You don't hate at all, in fact.

Your defense mechanism when confronted with something you fear however, is to lash out. And that is most of the time taken out of context, making you appear rude and arrogant, when in reality you're just trying not to seem weak or vulnerable.

Because in the past, that would immediately make you the perfect target. Pushed aside and scolded for everything that wasn't ever your fault in your first home, used as a punching bag for other hybrids in the shelter later on, you had to somehow make up a tough façade so you wouldn't end up in those positions ever again. You learned to keep yourself safe by being the one who bites first- and it took Jimin years to truly gain your full trust.

He fears that that's all you can do though. That he's going to forever stay the only person of comfort for you.

And that's an issue. While he himself had been a bit defensive about his treatment of you with Yoongi, he knows that the older man is right. Jimin has been wrapping you in layers of bubble wrap, has spoiled you and nursed your bad habits into what they are today simply because he always saw the scared, shaking hybrid back at the shelter.

But that's not you anymore. You technically have no reason to be scared of anything anymore- but Jimin understands now, after talking numerous times about it with Yoongi, that he's partially at fault for your lack of social skills.

Jungkook had come from a good household- had been raised well, so Yoongi had never really experienced anything like Jimin did with you, but nonetheless, his advice still counts, and is still valid.

You need to learn at some point. You have to realize that there's nothing to fear anymore- and that Jungkook isn't an enemy ready to eat you alive in your sleep.

"Come on, stop pouting now, hm?" He tries, running a hand over your head once at a red light. You just look out the window. "Is Jungkookie that scary?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"He's dumb." You deny, putting your legs up and onto the seat.

"Hey.!" He scolds gently. "Jungkook isn't dumb. He's trying hard, okay? You could be at least civil with him, sugar." He tells you, and you sigh at that, leaning against the door.

"I don't want to." You say defensively, tail angrily flopping around. "You just say that because you wanna be with Yoongi." You huff.

"Partially, I admit that." Jimin nods. "But I also agree with him that you need to be nicer. Jungkookie is really trying to be friends with you, you know?" He sighs.

"I don't care.." You mumble to yourself, angrily looking out the window. You know that Jungkook isn't a threat- but he's still scary to you. He's tall, and a lot of muscle, and he's loud, and energetic, and just.. scary. Intimidating. Potentially dangerous. And that potential alone is enough to make you feel threatened.

Jungkook and Yoongi are currently ruining your perfect life you had with Jimin. So you've got enough reason to be absolutely pissed.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #yoongi imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jimin imagine

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ijuststareatstuffhereok89 · 12 days

Text

Four: Chickadee

You and Loki put aside your differences for one morning out of respect for your fallen pilot, but the armistice doesn't last as your next survival task is to build a shelter.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Loki sexually harasses you/ is still a dick (he pulls it out)

MASTERLIST

“I’m not touching it.”

“Neither am I.”

Ten minutes of near total silence went by as you and Loki stared at the floating body of the pilot, face down, while it made landfall. The closer it came, the more pungent the odor of death that came with it. It even appeared a bit bloated. You didn’t want to know what kinds of decay and bacteria were forming settlements in his body after a day of rotting and bobbing on the water.

“But…we have to do something,” you said quietly, unable to look away.

Loki raised an eyebrow as he put his jeans on again. “You could just roll it back out to sea.”

You gave him an insulted look. “Oh, come on! He had a life! He knew people and loved people. Can’t we give him at least a little bit of dignity if he had to die this way?”

He went to answer, but something in how your face fell rendered him silent. He looked over at the body again. “Did he have a family?”

You shook your head. “I can’t even remember his name.”

Loki held his nose high. “No royal has ever touched a body, not even in battle. Anyone who does has to be purified in a ritual that takes weeks.”

You grunted in animalistic frustration. “You little child,” you hissed, kicking up a small pile of sand in frustration. “You’re not royalty anymore, or did you forget that part?”

He didn’t answer you, and you decided to take matters into your own hands. “Fine, forget it.”

Leaving Loki in the dust, you started up the beach until you found a small cluster of hanging vines (that Loki had already plucked from by the looks of it). You began harvesting the longest ones.

“What are you doing now?” called Loki from behind you.

“I’m going to weave a shroud, then dig a grave over there,” you pointed up to where a large, low-hanging palm draped over a sand dune, providing permanent shadow to the spot underneath. “It’ll take me the whole morning to make this, so just stay out of my way if your delicate constitution can’t bear to be around a stiff.”

You didn’t expect him to reply with, “I’ll…I’ll start digging.”

It was not the scenario you pictured when you thought about how your years in the Girl Scouts would pay off one day: using your merit badge for advanced survivalism and knot work to make a wrap out of vines for a dead pilot. It was a solemn task, but it gave you time with your thoughts, which you needed if you were going to get through this emergency.

Hopefully, rescue would come. In the meantime, there seemed to be enough fruit trees and fresh water to last for seasons. You weren’t sure, but you thought you’d seen hoof tracks in the sand, which would indicate there was some form of wildlife, likely a species of boar. If you were lucky, they could be hunted and eaten.

The next major task you’d need to begin would likely be the most difficult but also the most vital after water collecting: a shelter, preferably one off the ground. After all, summer was hurricane season, wasn’t it? What would happen if one hit the island? Would there be any signs or feelings that it was coming? How high would the water go? Was it possible for the entire island to sink?

Not to mention, weather aside…what if those wild animals you thought you saw tracks for were predatory?

You needed some kind of high ground that wasn’t the cliffside. Loki sure as hell wasn’t going to help you with that. You weren’t about to share a shelter with him anyway. And yet, the limited use of his powers that he did possess would probably prove indispensable at building anything sturdy.

“It’s ready.” You were just finishing the final knots on the shroud when he announced it.

Loki was uncharacteristically serious. Perhaps having the morning to himself with a menial, physical task to complete had given him some pause as well.

He helped you move the pilot to the grave. You hadn’t noticed while weaving that Loki had also found a decently-sized stone to mark the spot. Granted, it was blank, but it was something more than a crude cross made of sticks, or worse yet: nothing.

After you worked together to place the body into the grave, you quickly filled in the hole, after which you both stood silently, staring down at the grave marker with an awkward sort of solemnity.

What did one say to their mortal enemy at a time like this? It wasn’t enough that you were stranded on a lonely island together, but now you were burying a co-worker that neither of you knew very well. It was maybe the first and only time you worked together, if only to alleviate any survivors’ guilt. You weren’t sure if Loki had any survivors’ guilt, but for the moment, you chose to take him seriously.

“In Asgard, we float them out onto the water,” Loki said in a near-whisper. “Burial is for traitors and the executed where I’m from.”

“Well, his body would just keep floating back to shore, if we set him adrift,” you said impatiently. “Not everything needs to be done your way, Oh Mighty One.”

Loki looked up at you with a dark look in his eye. “I wasn’t—must you always make it about cheap stabs at my expense?”

Rolling your eyes, you threw up your hands in exaggeration. “Well, I’m not the one who chose the topic of “How We Do It Better on Asgard” at a man’s burial, okay? Loki, you ask for it sometimes.”

“Oh, I ask for it, do I?” Loki pointed at himself. “I save your life TWICE—”

“—would you stop lording that over me??—”

“—and you haven’t even thanked me yet!”

“Oh, dear sweet Loki,” you shook your head, “I’ll write that on my list of things to thank you for later, right underneath ‘THANKS FOR NOTHING!’”

Loki disappeared after that argument. You didn’t care, as you got the feeling your shelter would get done faster without him being an annoying pest, his insults flitting about your ear like flies.

As the sun moved in its arc over the island, you drew your shelter plans in the sand. It would take days to make, especially alone, but you wanted something at least a few feet off the ground to protect you from flooding and the possibility of predatory animals. The moon had been waxing crescent the previous night, meaning high tide would be inevitable in a little over two weeks. Hopefully, you’d be rescued and a week into a lawsuit against Tony Stark at that point, but in case you weren’t, at least only Loki would be swept out to sea with a receding shore.

Eventually, you came up with a lean-to of sorts with a floor about half of your height off the ground. It would be held aloft by eight poles stuck in the sand built around a palm trunk at the edge of the forest, and the roof would face perpendicular to the beach to avoid catching any brisk ocean winds. It wouldn’t exactly be comfortable to sleep on, but it was better than continuing to be left vulnerable to the elements.

This wasn’t going to be easy. You needed to find a rock sharp enough to cut bamboo. Loki must’ve had something, for he’d made a rickety grate for the water jugs out of some thick shoots. In his continued absence, you crept toward the smoldering green embers from the fire he’d created the night before. One of the large clay cisterns of water was cooling near the makeshift fire pit, and you briefly took the time to cup some water into your hands and drink.

Sifting through Loki’s encampment, you couldn’t find any evidence of sharpened stone or knife. Dammit! It either meant he was strong enough to yank full bamboo shoots out of the ground, or he’d taken whatever he used with him. You didn’t want to scour the island for him, but you knew you needed to start building your shelter.

Mr. Needs-To-Be-Purified…he probably went to the lagoon!

Dusk was beginning to settle, the sky was turning a brilliant orange that would normally take your breath away. An entire day went by, and all you had to show for it was a buried body, a few coconuts and mangoes from a small grove nearby you’d found, and the sandy blueprint for a shelter that you couldn’t exactly pull off without Loki. Or, at the very least, his tool.

About a third of the lagoon was in shadow when you got there. The waterfall was still falling, its roaring magnificence even larger than you remembered from the day before. The pool below it was still a blue you’d only seen in commercials for that bougie resort in the Bahamas…what was it called? Jetskis? Sandy Shoes?

Loki wasn’t difficult to spot. He stood on a ridge about fifteen feet above the water, next to the falls. Buck naked, he was staring down with focus into the crystal pool below. His hair was tied up and out of his face into a bun. He’d been bathing all afternoon; you could tell so from the way his chest shone beaded and wet in the dying sunlight. You were somewhat surprised at the lack of tattoos. You knew of the snake on his pectoral, but you’d always thought he’d have more on his back or belly, a family crest or lover’s initials or something. He just seemed the type to you.

Jesus Christ, you thought to yourself. Guess I know why the bimbo reporters all want a piece of him…

You didn’t fully reveal yourself, choosing to hide behind a mango tree. However, this didn’t exactly work…

“I see you,” Loki said, his voice somehow both low and discreet while carrying past the sound of the waterfall over to you about halfway down the lagoon. “I was wondering when I’d be graced with your presence. Come to enjoy the view, Chickadee?”

You cringed at the diminutive. He’d picked it up from Steve Rogers or Nat Romanoff at some point, and seemed to like it enough to employ it with you somewhat regularly.

You quickly recovered your dignity, stepping out from behind the mango tree and raking your fingers through your hair. “No, I’m just here to ask where you put the rock or blade or whatever you used to cut bamboo yesterday.”

“Bamboo? Rock? Hold on,” Loki said, pretending to be unable to hear you so that he could show off with a perfect swan dive into the water. The image did steal your breath momentarily as he cut through the air like a switchblade. He barely made a splash on entry, and when he did, he wasted little time floating to the surface and stroking his way in your direction.

“Asgardians are denser” my left asscheek, you thought bitterly.

“I’m building my shelter, and I need whatever you used to cut the bamboo stalks for the fire pit,” you said, trying to sound emotionless as Loki hoisted himself onto a rock, only emerging to his navel before sitting on it, posed like a merman.

He shook his head. “I regret to inform you that I did not use a rock,” he said simply, winking with a suspicious grin.

“Look, you really don’t have to make my life harder right now. Those stalks were cut evenly. I know you think I’m an idiot--”

“--I think nothing of the sort--”

“--for fucks’ sake, let me finish before I go completely bonkers!” you threw up a defensive hand. “Now, tell me, what will it accomplish for you to refuse to help me out?”

He shrugged. “Well, you did just say MY shelter instead of OUR shelter…I see no reason why I should help you if you won’t be so kind and return the favor.”

How can someone so evil be so…

Even your thoughts become distracted as Loki lifted one leg out of the water, pretending to stretch it while strategically running a firm hand up and down the back of his thigh and ass, the clearly-defined quad muscles there moving along with every flex of his knee.

“I don’t want to share a shelter with you, Loki,” you refused to cave in. “Don’t you think it’s a bad idea?”

“On the contrary, I was looking forward to waking up next to you every morning, darling!” Loki smiled, winking again and lightly slapping his butt cheek before submerging his leg again.

You turned away from him. “This isn’t a goddamn vacation,” you said behind clenched teeth. “Tell me where it is.”

“Only if we share it,” Loki insisted.

Something occurred to you just then, and you pointed an accusing finger. “You don’t know how to build a shelter!”

His jaw only dropped a little. “I certainly do! I served a military conscription along with my brother just like anyone.”

You shook your head. “No, no, you and your brother probably got special perks for being Daddy O’s kids, right? I bet you had people pitch tents for you. You only know how to build a fire because it’s your magic. You’re just as defenseless as I am, aren’t you? In fact…”

You paused dramatically, moving closer. Loki stopped you in your tracks by shifting position, spreading his thighs apart and showing off his entire package. All of it. You recoiled like a threatened cobra, even while you wanted to look. He was clearly pleased by the predictable reaction.

“...what was that, Chickadee?” he went on, casually stretching at his navel with a single finger.

“And he brings out the only tool he has left in his arsenal…the sexual harassment!”

“Excuse you, but the only tool he has?” Loki teased, spreading out even further.

“The only one that women can feel, I mean,” you snapped back. “And let THAT shrink you!”

The egocentric Prince closed his legs at your faked lack of amusement. You’d never admit to him that you were, of course, very impressed by his display, not even to yourself.

After a minute, he got to his feet, climbing out of the water, standing in all of his nude glory before you. His dong unfurled right in front of your nose. Not wanting to be at penis-eye-level for long, you also stood. Loki looked angry and focused. “You will never be fortunate enough to know what goes on in my bed,” he hissed slowly.

“I don’t care to know about your menagerie of off-world STDs, Laufeyson,” you sneered back. “Stop deluding yourself into thinking this is sexual tension between us. I know it strokes your ego, but we have bigger problems….much….MUCH bigger.” You looked downward briefly and forced a mocking laugh.

The color was beginning to drain from his face. “Stop making this about your cock and let’s just get through this! I’m building a shelter, Loki. I fucking need that rock.”

He rolled his eyes and turned his back to you, showing off the roundest, bounciest ass you ever saw. “Make one yourself...Chickadee.”

And with that, he left you in the shadow of the mango tree to stew in your anger as he went to dry off under the last rays of daylight.

“What do you mean we have to GO to Asgard??” Tony yelled in frustrated anger at the screen.

“Odin won’t have any of our Earth tech on his homeworld,” said the middle-aged woman, a representative of the United Nations named Ethel Windsor. She was the person designated to be in charge of inter-realm communications in regards specifically to Loki’s case. Tony always suspected this was because of the entire council, she was easily the most boring, snobbiest, and least relatable member. “And that includes any communicative devices.”

“Can’t you just have someone tell him we need Thor?” asked Nat, standing behind Tony.

Ms. Windsor frowned. She looked as if she’d just sniffed a fresh pie of dog shit, and it was all Tony could do from calling her a wrinkle-nosed duckface. “According to the terms of Loki’s parole, all communications between Asgard and Mid---Earth, shall be done in-person on Asgardian soil or by way of direct envoy on our soil.”

“Then tell them to send a guy!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark. All I can do is have Dr. Foster ask for the bifrost.”

“Yeah, where is Jane, anyway? I thought we were going off to find her,” Nat mumbled.

Tony shrugged as Ms. Windsor chimed in. “She’s on a…romantic tryst with Prince Thor, last I heard.”

“Well, that sure helps!” Tony scowled. “No word on when she’ll be back?”

“Next month sometime.”

“Fuck!” Nat whispered.

“Fine,” Tony said quickly. “Sorry to waste your time.”

“We already have people searching, Mr. Stark,” said Ms. Windsor. “They will be found.”

“Sure,” Tony said, disappointed. He spun on his heel and went to leave, but then halted to lay one more signature quip on the grouchy old woman.

“By the way, I enjoyed your work on Mama’s Family.”

Once Tony and Nat returned to the board room, Bucky stopped pacing. “Well?”

“Dead end,” Tony said quickly. “Odin’s a big doofus who won’t set foot or talk to anyone here. Guess he’s afraid video cameras will steal his soul.”

“So now what do we do?” he asked.

Tony shrugged. “Well, obviously, we go looking for ourselves,” he said simply. “But we need to make a plan and map out their likeliest location.”

Bucky bit his lip and held back from lashing out. “You said that wouldn’t be easy. What if there isn’t time? This is a goddamn ticking clock, if they’re stranded somewhere, they could starve or--”

“--well, we need Jane Foster to get to Asgard,” Nat said sadly. “She’s MIA, along with Thor, for at least another few weeks.”

“Shit!” Bucky hissed.

Steve, sitting calmly at the head of the table, looked at his friend with concern. “Maybe between the UN’s search party and ours, that’ll cover enough ground in the right area to find them.”

“Even more if we take two jets,” Tony added. “Not like we have many other cards. We’ll split up over the dateline, one team goes westward, one goes southward. You and Loverboy are Team A, and me and Nat are Team B?”

Everyone agreed. “Without the quinjet we just have two small planes. We need to designate fueling places, flight paths--”

“---hey guys?”

Bruce Banner was in the doorway to the conference room now. “Are we planning on telling the press about them missing?”

Tony and Steve immediately shook their heads at the same time. “Are you kidding? Former war criminal on the loose somewhere on the planet unchecked? The people all may like the guy, but most of the world governments still see him as a potential threat.” Steve was right.

“Hell, Germany still has him banned!” added Stark. “No, this needs to stay under wraps, because if the UN decided to revoke his parole--”

“--out of curiosity, why did you ask?” Nat added cautiously.

Bruce twiddled his thumbs and shrugged modestly. “They know already.”

Tony went pale. Bucky and Nat looked at each other with concern as Steve got up and went to find the remote for the large screen in the front of the room. Quickly fiddling with it, he turned the flatscreen on, switching the station to a 24 Hour news channel.

Sure enough, there was the headline, in bold red lettering sprawled underneath Jake Tapper’s face: Former Intergalactic War Criminal Missing with Personal Assistant. Both yours and Loki’s pictures were superimposed to Tapper’s left.

“--but some countries, particularly those in the South Pacific, are questioning the security of their people with Loki Laufeyson on the loose and without UN-approved tracking. We are now going to President Aquino in the Philippines, who is holding an emergency press conference from Manila at this hour…”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fuck a duck.”

Bucky groaned. “Looks like our ticking clock just got faster.”

TAGLIST: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtuffff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki

@soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14 @lokidokieokie @littlegodslut @casifer391 @free-llama-arcade @alucardsdaddyissues @pest-ill-ence @elviswifesworld @mynameiskelly @xxinvisiblexx

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 5 months

Text

wildest dreams is an ineffable husbands song.

HEAR ME OUT. I KNOW ABOUT QUEEN. I KNOW ABOUT HOZIER. THIS FANDOM ADOPTED ME AND INDOCTRINATED ME AND I AM AWARE. And I know I've only seen three episodes in S1 and a few edits but... hear me out.

Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams seems very contrary to the vibes but look. It's from Aziraphale's perspective. Also, I use he/they pronouns for Crowley here. Behold, Taylor's Wildest Dreams lyrics... but they're Aziraphale to Crowley, his angel, his demon, his lover, his best friend.

...

He said let's get out of this town

"We need to get away. We need to be an us," Crowley says desperately.

Drive out of the city, away from the crowds.

Crowley and Aziraphale, speeding away in the Bentley.

I thought Heaven can't help me now

Aziraphale, wondering about how he defied Heaven and fell in love with a demon.

Nothing lasts forever, but this is getting good now.

"Oh, Crowley. Nothing lasts forever."

He's so tall, and handsome as hell

Crowley. Tall, handsome, hell. Aziraphale has never seen anything more beautiful than this fallen angel from hell.

He's so bad, but he does it so well

"I'm a demon, I'm not nice." They both know it's true, and it's a lie.

I can see the end, as it begins, my one condition is...

Crowley and Aziraphale, watching the fall of man at the beginning, Crowley and Aziraphale, knowing they are in the end times.

Say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe

At the fall of man, the Garden of Eden, an angel and a demon stand and look upon the world, the angel dressed in his white robes, he raises a wing to shelter the demon, his demon.

Red lips and rosy cheeks, say you'll see me again, even if it's just in your wildest dreams

Aziraphale, with his sweet face, his cheeks that rise into a helpless smile every time he glances at Crowley. Aziraphale, begging Crowley to come with him. Aziraphale, who would never want Crowley to forget him.

I said, "No one has to know what we do."

Aziraphale lying to Heaven and God and the angels, because he cannot lose this, Crowley is a demon and they are not supposed to be friends, they are not supposed to be lovers, but they are.

His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room

Crowley holding Aziraphale in a desperate kiss, clutching at him as if that will persuade him to stay.

And his voice is a familiar sound, nothing lasts forever, but this is getting good now

Aziraphale knowing Crowley is there before he even sees them, at the French revolution, every time Aziraphale needed them. Why did Crowley have to kiss him now, and not before? Why only at the end, when Aziraphale knows he has to leave? Why does it have to get good just at the ending?

You'll see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

Aziraphale knows, hopes, that Crowley will not forget him, his last request is that Crowley not throw away what he is offering him.

Burning it down

The bookstore in flames, Crowley screaming, because he cannot lose his best friend.

Someday when you leave me, I bet these memories follow you around

"Don't bother," Crowley says, and Aziraphale watches them walk away, but he also knows that he's the one who pushed them away. Whose fault is it, really? But it's been 6000 years, and those memories aren't going anywhere, for either of them.

Follow... you... around.

No matter how painful, those memories are going to stay. For Aziraphale, for Crowley, for all of us.

Heaven can't help us now.

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

Text

Falling For the Devil [Part one: "The Night You Met"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader [Series Masterlist]

Summary: You have a bad Monday back at work and grab a few drinks at a nearby bar with a co-worker who takes the opportunity to have a certain attractive lawyer buy you a drink.

How you meet Matthew Murdock and then repeatedly embarrass yourself.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 4.2k

a/n: So I'm finally sharing a few of these installments on tumblr, but I've been posting them on AO3 since the beginning of the year. Currently there are 74 parts posted on AO3 (almost 300k words total) and still counting. I update this series a few times a week and I figured I'd finally share a few installments here and maybe, eventually, post them all on tumblr? Please heed the warnings--there is a ton of sex later in this series (y'all who've read it know what I'm talking about) and some hurt/no comfort for a bit later during what I deemed Big Angst. If you haven't heard of this series, I certainly hope you enjoy it!

Tapping your fingers lightly against the cold bottle in your hands, your eyes fixed on your beer, you blew out a rough breath. Classic rock was playing in the dimly lit dive bar, a random one you and Katy had last minute ducked inside after work. Neither of you had been here before but after the rough Monday back at work, both of you were dying for a drink and it didn't really matter where.

"I feel like I'm chasing a goddamned dead-end," you complained, glaring at the half-finished beer.

"Maybe you need a new angle?" Katy suggested.

She threw back the rest of her beer from her place beside you before raising a hand, flagging down the surly bartender. The older woman behind the bar headed back towards you both and Katy ordered another drink.

You were lost in thought for a moment, focusing on the story Ellison had been telling you to drop for over a week now. Running a hand through your hair exasperatedly, you picked up your beer in your other hand and took a long pull from the bottle. Your head was buzzing from more than just the alcohol in your system as you swallowed the drink down.

"Didn't Ellison give you a new piece today?" Katy asked, her attention returning to you when the new beer was set in front of her.

"Yeah," you answered her with an eye roll. "Fluff piece on the local animal shelter. Which, don't get me wrong," you said, raising a hand, "I love dogs and all, but I'm not really in this to write about dogs. I didn't bust my ass to get onto The Bulletin to write fluff." You sighed, eyeing Katy beside you. "What's he got you working on now?"

"That warehouse murder last night," she answered.

"Fuck," you grumbled, slamming your head to the bar counter. Immediately you regretted the action, raising your head and pulling a face as you rubbed at the sticky dampness the bar counter had left behind. "Ugh," you grunted. "I'm on his shit list this month, aren't I?"

"Yup," Katy answered bluntly. "You know he doesn't like any of us chasing dangerous stories about mobsters after…everything that happened a little while back."

You groaned in frustration before picking up your beer and finishing the last dregs of it. Katy nudged you abruptly in the arm, just about causing you to spill the beer. You swallowed, turning to shoot her a pointed look.

"Isn't that Karen Page?" she whispered, gesturing her head towards the blonde at the pool table. "The one everyone whispered about saying Ellison supposedly fired her because she might know Daredevil's identity?"

Your eyes turned to the pool table, examining the blonde who was laughing with two other gentlemen. "Yeah, looks like her," you answered.

"Now she had some good shit she wrote," Katy said with a grin. "You know, before Ellison started doling out pieces on animal shelters."

Your eyes returned to your empty beer, but Katy continued to stare at the pool table, fingers drumming on the bar.

"Maybe we should stop talking about work," you said. "The point of grabbing a drink was to forget about this shitty Monday. I'm currently not forgetting."

"Mmm, I wouldn't mind forgetting about my Monday by getting underneath him," Katy replied, her eyes still on the pool table as she gestured her beer towards someone.

You glanced back over, your eyes landing on the man drinking back a beer with Karen Page. It was obvious Katy was drooling over the dark haired gentleman with the red glasses and cane. His jawline was perfect, his hair practically begging to have fingers run through it, his body clearly well-built under that tight dress shirt with buttons tempted to pop when he moved just right, and he had an absolutely breathtaking smile.

"Isn't that Murdock from Nelson, Murdock, and Page?" Katy said after a moment, her eyes narrowing. "They're the guys who took down Fisk. Shit, he's hotter in person." When you didn't respond, Katy glanced back at you, eyebrows shooting up on her forehead. "Is your silence you disagreeing about that man’s perfection?"

You shook your head, your eyes landing back on the man. It almost seemed like he was looking at you and Katy at the bar, but considering he was blind, that would have been impossible.

"He's attractive, yeah," you agreed with a shrug.

Katy's eyes widened at you. "Really? That's it? That guy looks like sex on legs and I'm pretty sure I've heard rumors that he is amazing in bed and…that’s all you’ve got?"

"Your point?" you asked.

"Are you serious right now?" she asked in disbelief. "You wouldn't want a night with that guy?"

You let out a heavy breath, your eyes returning to the now empty bottle of beer as you debated on another or just going home and making dinner and writing that pointless article for Ellison.

"I wouldn’t know what to even say to a guy like that," you muttered. "You know outside of interviews I am shit with human interaction."

Katy chuckled lightly before shaking her head. "You do have a knack for being awkward. But you wouldn't need to say anything, just let him fuck you senseless as you're screaming his name on your back."

Katy abruptly threw out some light, breathy fake moans that had you slapping her arm sharply and your face burning up.

"Pretty sure you could handle that ," she teased you with a light laugh.

"You're a fucking animal," you joked, burying your reddening face in your hands.

"You're thinking about it though," she shot back.

You glanced at the man between your fingers, face still buried in your hands. He was holding a beer in one hand as something that looked like a smirk broke across his face. He was standing by the pool table, his gaze in your direction as his friends focused on the game they were playing. Your heart sped up at the thought of him throwing you onto your bed and you swore you saw his lips pull up even higher before you turned away.

"Would literally never happen," you mumbled. "Guys who look like that don't talk to chicks like me."

"Sexy and awkward?" Katy supplied.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Only one of those is an accurate description," you replied. "Anyway, I should probably get back. Make dinner and slam my head into the wall repeatedly as I write that piece for the next issue."

"Or you could stay and see if you're awkward enough to scare away Hell’s Kitchen’s sexiest lawyer," Katy suggested with a playful grin. "Maybe end up finding God on your back."

She opened her mouth and got out one moan before you kicked her shin.

She laughed, waving a hand at you. "Alright, fine. Let me chug this and I'll leave, too. I've got a lead I need to check out tonight anyway."

You watched her raise the beer to her lips and toss it back, downing the last half of the bottle before slamming it to the counter. You slid off the bar stool and turned to leave only to run head first into someone. You stumbled backwards muttering out an 'oh shit' as your back hit the bar counter, and then your eyes went wide when you saw it was the attractive lawyer you and Katy had just been talking about.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't see you there," you blurted out an apology.

"Neither did I," he answered, a grin spreading across his mouth.

"Right, because you're…" you trailed off quickly realizing how rude it would be to point out his disability.

Katy appeared just beside him, her eyes going wide as she gawked at you, shaking her head sharply.

"Blind?" the man finished for you.

Your cheeks burned as you awkwardly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He was somehow even more attractive up close and he had a nice, deep voice. For a moment you couldn't help but imagine him on top of you in your bed again and your heart stuttered in your chest.

"And I'm tactless," you breathed out. "Sorry, I didn't mean to literally run into you and then be completely rude. I'm just going to go," you said quickly, trying to skirt around him.

"Or you could buy her a drink," Katy blurted.

Your eyes widened as you stared open-mouthed at her, entirely taken aback. Katy shot you a look, shrugging a shoulder. The man chuckled, the sound drawing your attention back to him beside you. He was grinning in your direction and you internally groaned.

"You want me to buy your friend a drink?" he asked curiously.

Your eyes narrowed to a glare at Katy as you quickly answered him. "She's kidding," you told him. "You know, just a bad joke ," you said, the last two words coming out at Katy between gritted teeth.

"Well," the man mused, "I may not be opposed to the idea."

Your palms immediately began to sweat as Katy sent you a wicked grin. Your heart was thundering wildly in your chest as you chanced a glance back at him. He looked entirely calm and collected as he stood there with a charming smile on his face.

“That’s uh, that’s nice and all, but I actually have work to finish tonight–”

“No you don’t,” Katy cut in sharply, eyes narrowed. “You could write that article in thirty minutes with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue. You don’t have work.”

The man whose first name you were still unaware of chuckled good-naturedly beside you at Katy’s words. “I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about, but that sounds like quite the talent you have,” he teased.

Katy snickered loudly as you audibly groaned, shrinking back into yourself. This was easily the most humiliated you had felt in a long time.

She turned towards the man next and pointedly told him, “She had a bad day, she’d love another drink.” And then her attention returned to you, a sly grin on her face as she said, “Now I actually have a lead to follow up with. I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” She proceeded to mouth ‘you’re welcome’ before she turned and left.

You were torn between trying to chase after her and feeling obligated to converse with this insanely attractive man who was for some reason giving you the time of day. You were tightly gripping the strap of your crossbody bag with indecision as you stood there uncomfortably. Thankfully he spoke and broke the awkward tension.

“Would you like another drink?” he asked, gesturing towards the bar beside you both. “You could maybe tell me your name?” he suggested. “And why you’re having such a bad Monday?”

“Look,” you began, “you really don’t have to. She was just being a pain in my ass thinking that she was–” You stopped short. You couldn’t exactly finish that thought and tell him she was trying to help you talk to him because you obviously thought he was attractive and you would never approach him on your own. That would have been even more embarrassing. “I just–you’re clearly here with your friends and I don’t want to pull you away,” you quickly shot out instead.

His dark brows rose up behind his glasses, a slight amused grin forming on his lips. “Oh? You were paying attention to who I was with before you even ran into me?”

Wincing, you wished a bus would just barrel through the bar and hit you, putting you out of your misery and ending this embarrassing conversation. How the fuck were you even supposed to deny that?

So you decided to do what you always did when things got too uncomfortable–run.

“You know what, I really do need to go,” you said, quickly turning and stepping away.

“Wait,” he called out.

And you did. For some unknown reason you actually paused, back still towards him. You could see his two friends at the pool table still enraptured in their game, currently either unaware or uninterested in the fact that he wasn’t back with them.

“Okay, I really am blind, so you’re going to have to actually, you know, acknowledge that you’re still here so I know I’m not just talking to myself right now,” he said.

You cleared your throat nervously, your eyes dropping to your scuffed up dress flats. “Wouldn’t exactly be too out of place in a bar, at least,” you muttered.

He laughed lightly, the sound causing you to glance back at him over your shoulder. He was smiling and the sight nearly gutted you. You wished he’d take off the glasses so you could see the entirety of his face–his eyes were probably as beautiful as the rest of him.

He slid onto the bar stool beside the one you’d just been on, folding up his cane as he patted the seat beside him. “Please, sit. Let me get you a drink,” he offered again.

The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Why, are you just that curious how far I can shove my foot into my mouth?”

Your mouth immediately clamped shut, one of your hands flying up to cover it as your eyes grew wide in horror at how your sarcastic comment actually came across. His eyebrows once again flew all the way up to his forehead, his lip twitching up at the corner in amusement.

“Another one of your curious talents?” he asked with a slight laugh.

“Fucking hell,” you groaned, taking a step back. “This is the most embarrassed I’ve probably felt in years,” you blurted. “Which is saying something because I have a tendency to make things incredibly awkward and uncomfortable and I should just really go home now.”

He was fighting the grin on his face as he shook his head. “No, please, don’t be embarrassed. This conversation has honestly been the highlight of my day.”

“I’m glad my mortification brings you joy,” you said flatly, taking another step back, “but I’m pretty sure I’m teetering on the edge of being the first person to actually die of embarrassment. So I should probably really go now.”

“I’m Matthew,” he said, extending his hand out towards you. “Usually I just go by Matt.”

Your eyes dropped down to his extended hand, staring in silent confusion at it. Why the fuck was he offering his hand and introducing himself to you?

He cleared his throat, hand still outstretched. “I know you said you’re a bit awkward and all, so I’ll let you know this is usually the part where you shake my hand and introduce yourself, too.”

“I��” you began, hesitating as you continued eyeing his outstretched hand. “I just told you like five times that I should go…”

“I know, I’m blind, not deaf,” Matt said, grin still intact, causing you to flush further. “But yet you’re still standing here instead of actually leaving. So,” he continued, extending his hand out further towards you, “my name is Matt, and you are?”

“Dying of embarrassment,” you muttered, unable to resist the slight smile on your mouth when he chuckled again.

And then you caved and against your better judgment you shook his hand, offering him your name as you sat on the bar stool beside him.

“That’s a pretty name,” he told you.

“And that sounds like a line,” you quipped back.

He raised a single brow at you this time, the corner of his mouth quirking up. You watched as the bartender made her way over towards the pair of you, the surly expression on her face morphing into a large smile when she saw Matt.

“What can I get you, Murdock?” she asked.

Matt turned towards the woman, a charming smile on his face as he said, “Just another beer, Josie, and whatever this lovely lady is having.” His head tilted towards you and Josie’s eyes followed curiously.

“Uh, just a beer, thanks,” you muttered awkwardly.

She nodded, lightly tapping a hand to the counter before sauntering off to grab two beers. You took a moment to take a deep breath, not entirely sure what to make of the evening so far. Normally you’d have scared someone off by now, making them entirely too uncomfortable to try to endure conversation. But not Matt. He was still sitting beside you, clearly relaxed and comfortable.

“So why’re you having a bad day?” he asked.

You glanced over at him. He was studying you, head tilted to the side and one arm resting along the bar counter, the cane folded up on the surface beside him. With the way he was turned towards you in the bar stool, and you towards him, your knees were almost brushing.

“Just a bad day at work,” you mumbled.

“Where do you work?” he asked curiously.

“The Bulletin,” you told him.

He appeared to perk up instantly, sitting up straighter in his chair as his head shifted further to the side. “You’re a journalist?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered. “Or at least, I try to be when my boss isn’t throwing fluff pieces at me instead of letting me chase real stories.”

You briefly noticed the thinning of his lips at your words before Josie’s return with two beers caught your attention. You thanked her with a smile, surprised when she returned one, and watched as she disappeared. You took a deep drink from the beer, definitely feeling like you needed it to survive in Matt’s presence. When you set the beer back on the bar, your right hand absently playing with the condensation on the bottle, you turned your attention back to Matt and noticed the slight frown on his mouth.

“So you’re…chasing a dangerous story and your boss doesn’t want you to?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Maybe you should listen to him,” Matt suggested.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “And what, write about the upcoming adoption event at the animal shelter forever?” You shook your head. “No, that’s not what I signed up for with this career. Your friend over there is Karen Page, right? She was the same way when she worked at The Bulletin, too.”

“Yeah, and you see how she no longer chases after the dangerous stories for a newspaper anymore, right?” he replied, his tone more serious than it had been.

“I’m sorry but, I just met you literally minutes ago and now you’re trying to dictate what I should be doing?” you asked skeptically.

Matt abruptly shook his head, his charming smile returning. “You know what? You’re right. I just remember Karen having some terrible situations arise because she was chasing a story. I shouldn’t project that onto you. I apologize.”

You continued to study him curiously as you raised your beer to your lips, taking a drink. You swallowed, voicing your thought aloud as you asked, “Why’d you want to have a drink with me so badly?”

“I liked the sound of your voice,” he answered easily. “You sounded nice and I thought I’d like to continue hearing you talk for a bit more tonight.”

You snorted loudly, shaking your head. “Okay, now that is a terrible line,” you said.

“Says the woman who wanted to show me how far she could shove her foot into her mouth before she even knew my name,” he countered.

You blushed furiously, shaking your head with a grin. “No, I said you wanted to see that, not that I wanted to show you,” you shot back.

“Well,” Matt said with a shrug of his shoulders as he brought his beer to his lips, “I’m blind anyway so I couldn’t actually see it one way or another.”

“How many blind jokes are you going to make tonight?” you asked him.

He grinned smoothly back at you, swallowing down his beer. “As many as you continue to easily drop into my lap,” he answered.

You laughed, your eyes darting to the beer beside you. Matt’s knee nudged yours and you glanced back at him.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asked softly.

You shrugged a shoulder, eyeing the beer again. “I can’t decide if I’m regretting staying for this drink or not yet."

"Oh, ouch," he said, feigning hurt.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "I mean I’m still debating whether or not you laughing at my intense embarrassment has been worth it or not yet for the current conversation."

"Uh huh," he replied. "So where are you landing with that? On a scale of one to ten?"

You pulled a face, head tilting to the side. "How would I even rate that on a scale?" you asked him curiously.

"Well, one would be 'Oh shit I'll just stop talking and slip away since he can't see me’–'"

"Jeez, has that happened to you before?" you asked, cutting him off.

He shook his head, bringing his beer to his lips again as he answered. "No, but I get the feeling you might."

Your face reddened further as you watched him take a drink, eyes lingering on the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. "No," you corrected, "I'd at least blurt out something weird and then sprint out of the room. You'd at least have some warning."

"Oh, well I appreciate that at least," he teased. "But really, scale of one to ten how much are you regretting staying for the drink?"

You eyed him, bringing the bottle to your lips and thinking over your answer for a moment as you studied him and took a drink. He was charming, that was obvious, and he didn't seem even remotely put off or like he was struggling with conversation no matter how awkward you'd been so far. In fact, you'd go so far as to say that you were surprisingly having fun.

"Okay I'm pretty sure you just told me you'd at least blurt something awkward before you disappeared on me," Matt joked.

You grinned, unable to help it. "A seven," you answered.

His eyebrows shot up onto his forehead again, an amused smile still on his lips. "A seven isn't bad but I was hoping for higher," he mused. "Why so low?"

"You could do with some better jokes and your lines are terrible," you told him.

"Duly noted," he answered quickly.

"So what about you?" you asked somewhat nervously. "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you regret asking me to stay for this drink?"

You anxiously took a sip of your beer while he cocked his head to the side as if he was in thought for a moment.

"An eight," he answered. "But only because I'm still waiting to find out how far you can shove your foot in your mouth."

You choked on the beer you were drinking, coughing lightly as Matt laughed and asked if you were alright. It was a moment before you recovered but his next question had you reeling again.

"You want to stay longer than that one drink? Meet my friends?" he asked when you'd recovered.

Your cheeks flushed as you bit your lip, taking only a few seconds to think over your answer. "Yeah, sure," you said. "I've got time."

"Considering your friend said you could write your article in a half hour with your hands tied behind your back using only your tongue," he mused, "I imagine you do. You need any help with the restraints for that, by the way?"

You threw your face in your hands, groaning loudly as Matt let out another bark of laughter beside you. "I cannot believe you just said that," you mumbled.

"Really?" he asked curiously. "In the probably fifteen minutes you've been conversing with me you really can't believe I would say that?"

You began to laugh behind your own hands, turning your face to peek at him through your fingers. He was smiling wide, perfect teeth exposed, as he gazed in your direction.

"Okay, yeah, maybe I can," you answered.

"But you seem a little more relaxed now," he pointed out.

He was right, too. Somehow after all the awkward tension and comments you'd found him funny and a little disarming. And he still hadn't run off, instead he seemed like he was also enjoying your company and he clearly didn't want you to leave yet. Which you certainly hadn't expected.

"Yes, maybe marginally less embarrassed," you agreed.

"Good," he responded. He slid off the bar stool, knees briefly grazing yours before he grabbed his cane and began to unfold it. "So, would you like to meet my friends? Stay a bit longer?"

You smiled, shrugging a shoulder. "Sure, let's give my anxiety a bigger audience," you joked, sliding off of your bar stool.

"I have a feeling they're going to like you, too," he assured you.

You smiled nervously, feeling your palms sweating a bit again and trying to discreetly wipe them against your dress pants as he led you towards the pool table. He'd just said he liked you and you felt yourself becoming a bundle of nerves all over again.

But he couldn't possibly have meant it like that , right?

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