#~I risk everything if it's for you a whisper into the night telling me its not my time and don't give up (Toshiro)~

[jaysgirlx]

living with choso might have just been the best mistake of your entire life. the intended plan was for you to finally get your own place but when you get there the place is in shambles. you got your deposit back when you threatened to get the police involved because the place looked nothing like its pictures.

choso had offered you his spare bedroom time and time again but you couldn't. choso was already such a good friend to you and you just didn't want to impose this on him. but of course, you're not even given a choice to ask him because the moment choso finds out how messed up your new apartment is he's already taken your stuff back to his place.

you're two months in and you realize choso and you had fallen into a pattern. a pattern that you hope won't everbreak. you wake up and choso's already made breakfast for the both of you. he says he's used to it from when he and his brothers used to live together, even though he only makes enough for two.

when you both arrive home from work, you either go out for food or order in and then of course you guys watch movies. "what do you mean you've never seen toy story?!"

"i didn't have much of a childhood, so i haven't seen a lot of movies" he mumbled quiety. for the rest of the night, the two of you had a toy story marathon with tons of snacks (provided by choso of course).

choso knew you loved to snack, so he learned to find your favorites in bulk. anytime you saw you snack on something when you hung out, he would memorize its name so he could buy more. he wanted to make his apartment as comfortable as he could for you. his place was meant to be yours.

sometimes the two of you would fall asleep on the couch together, all cuddled up together. however, it didn't start out like that, at first you would lean on choso's shoulder hoping he wouldn't mind. and eventually, he got annoyed with you just leaning on him and pulled you into his arms. you wanted to protest but you enjoyed it so much that you instead leaned into his body. whenever he'd feel you get comfortable in his arms or his lap he'd whisper "good girl" in your ear. coming from him those words drove you crazy and you wished you could hear them more.

on some nights, after you've both had a long day at work choso tends to carry you back to your room when you fall asleep. he even kisses your forehead and you've caught him doing it and you wish you had the guts to confront him on it so bad but you're happy here. so why risk it?

when choso works late you bring dinner to him and the two of you eat in his office. he always tells you, that you don't have to. that he can bring you dinner instead but when you warn him that you'll nice out he easily shuts up. you guys don't get to watch movies but you do get to talk.

"how's yuji?" you ask him after setting his food on his desk.

"enjoying college life apparently, nobara said they're going to a frat party tonight," he says while chucking.

"do you miss him?"

"why would i miss him when i have you?"

in your mind, there was no way he could've possibly meant that romantically. even after he changed the topic you were still thinking about it, thinking about what he meant and what could be going on in that head of his.

during the weekends, choso spends all his time with you. if you want to go shopping, he pays for everything, buys you lunch, and carries all your bags. he tells you it's in exchange for all the dinners you've bought him even though he's already paid you back for those. and when you get home he helps you try them all and all he can do is compliment you, like you're all his, "these jeans look so fucking good on you, can you only wear them in the apartment? just for me pretty girl?"

and you'd agree to his pleas cause, let's be real you only bought these jeans cause he keep eyeing you in them. and they way he cursed, you knew he wanted you because you felt the exact see way.

maybe living with choso a little longer wouldn't be such a bad idea.

❥ a/n: a little drabble to make up for not posting the college au choso fic yet.

#✩ kleo's kollection ✩ #✩ here's a treat ✩ #choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso fluff #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso my beloved #choso x female reader #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori cameo #nobara kugisaki cameo

[evie-sturns]

red - 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘚𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

summary: you and matt have been dating for a month, the most you've ever done is made out, one night things turn, which results in you and matt both losing your virginity.

warnings: smut, virgin!matt, virgin!reader, swearing, fluff.

------------------... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..------------------

i'm 19, and still a virgin. my boyfriend matt doesnt know, i'm too scared to tell him even though i know he would never judge me. nothing sexual has ever happened between us, but its bound to happen at some point, right?

matt and i are laying in his bed together, the house is empty for once as we cuddle close, watching a movie. i take a deep breath through my nose, anxiety rushing through me as my thoughts race

what if it hurts? what if matt won't think of me the same if i tell him? am i even ready?

"y/n, are you okay sweetheart, you're tensing like crazy." matt rubs my back, reasurringly.

"matt." i whisper, my voice hoarse.

"yeah?" he says, sitting up, his back pressing against the headboard as i lay on his chest.

what do i even say? i cant just say- "i want to have sex with you."

shit. the words came out like word vomit.

i throw my hand over my mouth, sitting up off matts chest and leaping off the bed. an awkward silence floods through the room as i reach for the door handle.

"come back." he says calmly, patting the spot next to him.

i nod like a guilty kid as i walk back over to his bed, sitting down next to him. "did you mean what you said sweetheart?" he says, interlocking our fingers. "possibly.." i mumble, my cheeks flushing.

matt laughs

"what!!" i say, slapping him softly.

"you're so red." he giggles,

"god shut up." i mumble, a smile spreading across my face.

another silence grows in the room as we decide what to say next. i clear my throat, "matt i need to say something." i whisper, looking everywhere but at him. he nods, squeezing my hand.

"i'm uh.. a virgin.?" i say, barely audible as i rub my eyes. "but like, i know its weird from my age but its just, i really love you, and everything about you.. i think i want you to take my virginity.."

"me too." he says, his cheeks red.

"you too?" i repeat, my eyebrows furrowing.

the room goes quiet, i'm quite frankly in shock.

its no secret matt's had mutiple girlfriends before me, but im finding it hard to wrap my head around how hes never done anything.

"look who's red now." i smile, staring at matts face.

"shush," he says, pressing a finger to my lips.

i pull off my shirt, revealing my white lacy bra.

matt's eyes widen. "oh." he coughs, his eyes fixated on my chest.

"too soon?" i ask, reaching for my shirt, starting to put it back on. "no no-.." he says grabbing the shirt from my hands and throwing it across the room. "is it really that good that you had to throw it across the room?" i laugh

"well don't want to risk you putting it back on!" he shrugs before pulling off his crewneck. i swallow hard, "i don't know what i'm doing if i'm being honest." i sigh, matt sits up, pressing a kiss to my forehead, "me neither, we'll figure it out." matt smiles.

i lay back on the bed as matt stands up, spreading my legs apart and stepping between them, he places a hand on the side of my face as he leans down, kissing from my neck.. to my chest.. to my belly button.

my breathing intensifies. pure nerves flooding through my body.

"are you nervous..?" he asks, pausing his pecks at my waistband.

"no." i lie through my teeth.

"mm yes you are..." he says teasingly.

"fine, i just don't want it to hurt, my friends all say it is the most uncomfortable thing the first time.." i mumble, running a hand through my hair.

"i know, you're stressing me out now!" he laughs, yanking down his sweatpants leaving him in his boxers. i follow his lead, unclasping my bra, matt stares at me shamelessly "fuck." he mumbles "you're so pretty.." he whispers.

“you okay?” he asks, reaching for the waistband of my shorts. i nod, looking him in the eyes.

“can i take these two off?” he asks, referring to my panties and shorts,

“y-yeah.. yep.” i mumble, he pauses.

“please don’t be nervous, just try to relax and i promise you it won’t hurt okay?” he says leaning down and kissing the tip of my nose.

“i’ll try to relax.” i say to matt, he slowly pulls down my panties, leaving me revealed in-front of him

“oh my god- okay, this might be a weird question but do you ever touch yourself..” matt says, staring at me

i burst into giggles, my face going red. matt slams a hand over his face “stupid question?” he smiles.

“no no.. it’s a good question but yeah i do. why?” i smirk

“oh thank god, i was worried about you.. being too tight and if i’m too big it won’t fit.” he says with a sigh

“mr. big dick over here everyone!” I joke, resulting in him rubbing his eyes “i didnt mean it like that.”

“you’re cute matt.” i say spreading my legs apart.

matt’s breath hitches in his throat as he stares at me, it’s probably the first naked woman that he’s been with in person.

“i have condoms..” he mumbled quietly

“oh.” i say with a disappointed tone

“babe i am not making you pregnant at 19.” he scoffs, opening his bedside table.

“i’m on the pill dumbass.” i smile, reaching for him

“i thought you were a virgin?” he asks his eyebrows furrowing

“matt i am, it’s just for other reaso-.. fuck it i’ll explain later”

matt’s boxers have a noticeable bulge pressing from the inside.

“you can take those off..” i whisper.

“yeah yup uhm of course!” he says shakily.

“why are you nervous now??” i laugh and he groans

“what if i’m bad..” he sighs

“where’s my clit.” i say bluntly, he points to it exactly.

“where the hole.” i say again, again he points to it with accuracy

“there you go, you’ll be fine, and i cant even judge you cause i don’t know better either!” i say assuring him

he slowly pulls off his boxers, his erection sprinting out tapping his bellybutton. “oh my god.” i whisper to myself.

“we need a towel matt..” i say standing up off the bed.

“for what?” he says quietly

“blood?” i say casually, he turns white. “what.”

he looks around nervously “you’re on your period?”

i laugh, “i’m on birth control sweetheart, remember?”

“then why the fuck will you bleed..”

“look at you, that dick will rip my hymen.” i say, he hands me his shirt,

“i don’t know what the fuck that means but here’s a shirt you can put under you.” he says nervously, his hand shaking as he passes me the shirt.

“you’re okay if it gets blood on it?”

“mhm i just wanna start..” he says quietly.

“jesus okay.” i say laying back on the bed, the shirt under me.

he grabs his base as he stands between my legs, he rubs his tip over my folds, sending goosebumps around my body. i let out a desperate moan.

“just tap me if you want me to stop and i will instantly okay..?” matt says, his tone less shaky then before. “i’ll go so slow.”

he lines himself up with my hole, pushing himself toward slightly, nothing happens.

“i cant um.. go further.” he says, pushing at my entrance

“what.?” i ask

“i think you really need to relax your whole body, loosen up a little bit okay?” he says pressing a kiss to my cheek.

he holds out a hand infront of my mouth “spit.” he demands

“gross!” i say with a smirk painted across my face

“i know..” he says, his hand not moving away, i spit into his hand, matt quickly moves it down, using it as a lube.

“relax as much as you can okay?” he says, pressing slowly into me.

“fuck fuck fuck..” i moan, squeezing my eyes shut

i feel his tip slide into me, a loud whimper escapes matt’s mouth ���oh my god..” he pushes further into me, a stretching burning sensation grows as i feel a tear fall down my cheek, he pushes the rest of the way in, stopping completely to look at me as he’s still buried inside me.

“hey hey, don’t cry your okay, you took it all!” he says caressing my cheek and rubbing the few tears that fell away. “tell me when to move, remember if you need a break tell me, if you want me to stop tap me.” he says.

i nod, looking him in the eyes “move.. please-“ i say, balling the sheets up with my fists, he nods, pulling almost out then thrusting back in, he’s going slowly.

matt is clearly trying to conceal his noises as he continues to pull out then push in. the burning sensation slowly disappears, and is replaced with pleasure

a strong smile spreads across my face, “feels good now?” he asks, his voice croaky.

“yes..” i manage to squeeze out “faster.. please” he picks up the pace slightly “i’m not gonna last long this time.” he warns

i clench around him, he twitches inside me then instantly fills me up, my jaw goes slack as i look up at him.

“shit i am so sorry..” he says pulling out with a slick sound, he grabs my hips and stands me up, i feel his cum start to leak down my leg as my leg shakes

“oh shit oh shit..” he says frantically looking around, he settles on his shirt, grabbing it and places it on me, collecting everything that is coming out of me. i laugh at the sight of him between my legs, wiping his orgasm off my thighs.

“was that okay for you, did it hurt?” he says picking me up.

“i think you just rearranged my organs.”

his cheeks go red.

------------------... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ..------------------

very much requested hope you guys liked it,

don’t be shy to spam my inbox btw i love talking to people

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

[shanastoryteller]

Hello! Thank you for taking the time to open prompts! Could i ask for some lady mo, or anything with wei wuxian? He’s my fave!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44

When one of the servants A-jie had brought with her when she married catches his eye and then disappears, Jiang Cheng’s stomach drops.

He leaves Shuchun to deal with the official mingling, which earns him a dirty look, but he refuses to feel bad about it. Wang Yan is hovering at the edges and either she or Jin Ling will save her from any truly obnoxious conversations.

He makes his way to his sister’s rooms, knocking twice before pushing inside. “What’s going on?”

The first person he sees is Jiang Xingyi, which is never good, but A-jie appears whole and healthy. She grabs his arm with both hands, pulling him close before whispering, “Would you be able to get genkwa before the end of the night hunt?”

“Yes,” he says, even though doing it without getting caught is going to be nearly impossible. What his sister needs, she gets. “How far along?”

She doesn’t look any different to him, but then again she never does. But if she needs it before the end of the night hunt, she must have caught it late this time.

This isn’t the first time he’s needed to do this.

A-jie’s body might not be able to handle another birth. He knows that she wants a big family, but none of them are willing to risk her life for another child.  

Well, he and Jin Zixuan aren’t. Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin would do it gladly, which is why they can never, ever know of the times he’s had to smuggle the crushed purple little flowers into her hands.

“It’s not for me,” she says which leaves him blinking. “Maybe we won’t need it, but she won’t stop crying, and I don’t want to offer her something that I can’t carry through on. You’re sure?”

“Yes,” he says, “but who are we talking about?”

If it’s A-jie, everything has to be handled with the utmost secrecy, only Jiangs, Jin Zixuan, and Jin Guangyao privy to her condition. But a servant girl or even a noble’s daughter doesn’t garner enough attention to warrant their normal subterfuge.

A-jie gives him a look so full of grief that he’s already reaching for her before she turns and crosses over to the entrance to her private bath. She knocks then leans against the door, “Meimei, can you come out? There’s someone else here, he can help you. You can trust him, I promise.”

The endearment tells him nothing beyond it’s a woman younger than A-jie.

The seconds drag on and then the door slowly opens, a women clad only in one damp robe stepping out. He lifts his eyes to her face, red and splotchy from crying and her hair a mess all around her, and feels his mouth drop. “Lady Xuanyu?”

The wife to the second jade of Lan is not some servant girl or even just a noble’s daughter.

She sees him and fresh wave of tears roll down her face, but she’s smiling too, and A-jie is relaxing. “Hi Jiang Cheng.”

“Is it his?” he asks, mind spinning. “Lan Wangji’s?”

A-jie glares at his lack of tact, but he’s trying to make sense of this. If she’s sleeping around on Lan Wangji, Jiang Cheng is hardly going to blame her for it, but it’ll explain why she needs to end the pregnancy.

She hiccups, lifting a sleeve to wipe at her cheeks. “Y-yeah.”

On the bright side, it’s not like Lan Wangji can hate him more than he already does.

A second reason for her to be so miserable at the news that she’s carrying her husband’s child occurs to him and the rage that sweeps through him is surprising in its intensity. “Does he hurt you?”

He drank with her the night before her wedding and told her that Lan Wangji wasn’t that awful, that he wouldn’t hurt her. He told her that she’d be safe as his bride.

But now she’s sobbing and pregnant and so clearly terrified.

Xuanyu hesitates.

“I’m going to kill him,” he says. It comes out perfectly calm, none of his normal bluster. Both A-jie and Jiang Xingyi pale.

He turns to leave, already planning on drawing his sword first and explaining after. Lan Wangji has made a liar out of him. Xuanyu is young and didn’t ask for any of this and he has a responsibility to protect his bride and Jiang Cheng told her that he wouldn’t hurt her and now she’s here and she’s hurt and he’s going to rip Lan Wangji’s spine out and shove it down his throat.

People don’t like him, don’t get along with him, generally. But she’d sat with him beneath the light of the moon and drank with him and it had been something warm and familiar that he hasn’t had since before the war. He tells himself that’s why he cares his so much when the truth is he doesn’t know why, it’s just that she feels familiar in a way he can’t explain, not when he the first time they met was that night.

“Jiang Cheng!” She lunges forward, hugging him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist. He braces for the feeling of discomfort, ready to push back agaisnt the urge to shove her off of him. It doesn’t come. “I didn’t mean like that! We spar, a lot, and I get hurt, but I’m always requesting it. It’s not like that.”

He turns in her arms, gently pushing her back but not letting go of her shoulders. “Then why are you crying? It’s okay, you can tell me the truth. I’m not afraid of Lan Wangji.”

“I just,” she sniffs. “I can’t – he doesn’t like me, you know? And – and I’m better than I was, um, healthier, but what if,” she blinks heavily, “what if I’m not strong enough, or something goes wrong, and then – what if I mess it up? And it’s all my fault, because I was weak, and then I’m a failure and he hates me–”

“Oh, Xuanyu,” A-jie whispers. He knows she had a lot of those same fears when she was pregnant with Jin Ling, and she and Jin Zixuan were in love, and he proposed to her fully knowing the state of her health.

Both Xuanyu and Lan Wangji were forced into this marriage.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he says firmly. “If you don’t want to have this baby, then you don’t have to. Whatever the reason. And if anyone tries to force you to, I’ll stop them. I don’t care who they are. Understand?” He waits until she gives a wide eyed nod. “But I don’t – I don’t think that Lan Wangji will react like how you think he will. And if he disappoints you, then I will help you take care of it. But I don’t think he will.”

Twice now he has vouched for Lan Wangji to Xuanyu, this girl who feels like another sister even though he barely knows her.

If Lan Wangji makes a liar out of him, he will beat him bloody and not even Lan Xichen will be able to hold it against him.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #untamed

[thatdammchickennugget]

hii! i was wondering if you could do theodore nott x griffindor reader where theyre in a relationship but he decides to break up with her, because he got the mark, to protect her by making her hate him, but after the war he explains everything and they get back together, like its very angty then fluffy

i know this is so weird im sorry 😭😭

(btw i love your writing!!!)

-🪩

Second Chances

pairing -theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings - angst with a happy ending, established relationship, fighting, mention of y/n

a/n - not weird at all, thank you for requesting!! I'm finding out angst really isn't my strong suit but I hope this is okay 💕

wordcount - 1.4k

You never thought you'd see the day your boyfriend would become distant and cold.Of course, you had seen him act this way with other students before, but never with you. His once warm gaze now held a hint of sadness, and his touch, once comforting, now felt like a fleeting memory.

Theo had changed since the war began, his demeanor growing more guarded with each passing day. You couldn't understand why he was pulling away from you, why he seemed so determined to push you out of his life. Now was exactly the time you should be there for each other more than ever before.

It was a chilly evening when Theo finally decided to confront you. He asked you to meet him on the astronomy tower, his expression unreadable as he watched you approach. The hopes that he would finally tell you what was wrong and everything would go back to the way it used to be vanished instantly.

"Y/n," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow. "We need to talk."

Your heart sank at the seriousness of his tone, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach. You nodded silently, urging him to continue.

"I... I think it's best if we end things," he said, his words heavy with regret. "It's not safe for us to be together, not with everything that's happening."

Confusion clouded your thoughts as you struggled to comprehend his words. "But... why?" you tried to keep the words steady, your voice barely above a whisper.

Theo's gaze flickered with pain as he reached out to touch your cheek, his touch gentle yet filled with a sense of finality. "I've joined the Dark Lord," he confessed, his voice barely a whisper. "And I can't risk putting you in danger."

As his admission hung in the air, the weight of his words crashing down on you like a ton of bricks, a mix of disbelief and rage flooded your senses. You recoiled from his touch, shaking your head in disbelief.

"You've... you've done what?" Your voice trembled with a mixture of hurt and fury, your fists clenched at your sides. "You've joined him? After everything we've talked about? After all the times we swore we'd fight together?"

Theo's gaze faltered under your intense scrutiny, his expression pained as he struggled to find the right words to explain himself. But the excuses fell flat in your ears, drowned out by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

"You chose him over me," you accused, your voice laced with venom as you took a step back, putting distance between yourself and the man who had once held your heart.

Tears of anger and betrayal welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to make sense of the shattered pieces of your reality. How could he have betrayed everything you believed in? How could he have turned his back on you so callously?

"I trusted you," you whispered, your voice barely a whisper as you turned away, unable to bear the sight of the man who had broken your heart. "But you've proven that trust means nothing to you."

And with those final words, you walked away, leaving Theo standing alone on the astronomy tower, rubbing at the black ink covering his forearm, his heart heavy with regret and the knowledge that he had lost the one person who had ever truly mattered to him.

ੈ♡˳

Two years had passed since that fateful night on the astronomy tower. The war was over, but the scars it left behind still lingered, etched into the hearts of those who had survived. You had tried to move on, burying the pain of betrayal beneath a facade of strength and resilience. But deep down, the ache of losing Theo still haunted you, a constant reminder of the love you had lost.

As you made your way through Diagon Alley, lost in thought, you caught sight of his familiar figure in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized him instantly, despite the passing of time. Theodore Nott stood just a few feet away, his gaze searching the crowd as if looking for someone.

Panic seized you at the sight of him, memories of the pain and betrayal flooding back with a vengeance. You turned on your heel, intending to slip away unnoticed, but fate had other plans.

"Y/n, wait!"

His voice cut through the bustling noise of the street, and while cursing yourself, you froze in your tracks. You resisted the urge to look back, steeling yourself against the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

But Theo was persistent, his footsteps quickening as he closed the distance between you. Before you could react, he was standing before you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice soft yet filled with urgency.

You bristled at his words, the bitterness of betrayal still fresh in your mind. "I have nothing to say to you," you spat, your voice dripping with disdain.

He flinched at your words, his expression pained as he reached out to touch your arm, his touch tentative yet filled with hope. "Please, just hear me out," he pleaded, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness.

But you remained steadfast, refusing to let him see the cracks in your armor. "I don't want to hear your excuses," you snapped, jerking away from his touch. "You made your choice, Theodore. And it wasn't me."

For a moment, silence hung between you like a heavy curtain, the weight of unspoken words filling the space between you. But then, Theo's gaze softened, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

"I know I messed up," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But everything I did, I did to protect you. I thought pushing you away would keep you safe, but all it did was break both our hearts."

You felt the walls around your heart begin to crumble, the pain of the past giving way to a flicker of hope. Despite everything, a part of you still longed for the connection you had once shared with Theodore, a love that had never truly died.

"I miss you," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "Every day, I wake up wishing I could go back and change things. Wishing I could hold you in my arms again."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you looked up into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret reflected back at you. In that moment, you realized that despite everything, you still loved him.

"I never stopped loving you," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the din of the street. "I never could."

Theo’s eyes widened in disbelief, his breath catching in his throat at your admission. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt.

But you held his gaze steady, your heart pounding in your chest as you fought to keep your emotions in check. Despite everything he had put you through, a part of you still longed for the connection you had once shared, a love that had never truly died.

"I'm sorry," Theo whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I know I don't deserve another chance, but please... please give me the opportunity to make things right."

You hesitated. But unable to look away from his eyes, you saw the depth of his regret, the sincerity of his plea. And in that moment, you knew that you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him. Even if he broke your heart over and over again.

"Okay," you whispered. "I'll give you another chance."

A flicker of hope flashed across his face, his lips twitching into a small smile as he reached out to take your hand in his. In that simple gesture, you felt a sense of warmth and reassurance, a promise of a future filled with second chances and new beginnings.

As you walked together through Diagon Alley, hand in hand, you knew that the road ahead wouldn't be easy. There would be challenges and obstacles to overcome, wounds that still needed healing. But with Theo back by your side, you felt a sense of strength and determination that you hadn't felt in years.

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[the-guilty-writer]

Perfect Anyway

Request from anon: ‘you flinched’ with Reid x Reader plsss

Spencer Reid x GN!reader

Summary: Wounds don’t always heal perfect, but Spencer makes sure you know just how perfect you are.

A/N: Thank you for the request! This could be platonic or romantic depending on how you read it. I hope you like it either way!

CW: reader is held by an unsub, gunshots, cuts and scars, Spencer helps reader change their bandages because its is my favorite display of affection in fiction whether it’s platonic or romantic

---

You looked down at the crime scene photos in front of you, hoping to find a pattern. There were a few you had already spotted- the victims were all high risk, all dumped in similar locations, and the killer used the same method every time.

Having worked at the BAU for over a year now, you were used to seeing these types of things. Photos of bodies, detailed files on murders, and horrifying signatures weren’t accompanied by the same churn in your stomach that you’d had during your first few cases. Everyone on the team had been upfront about how working this job could cause you to become desensitized to the worst of humanity- and how that sometimes felt as if you were being deprived of a bit of your humanity as well.

But this case brought all your humanity back to you as you saw a pattern you couldn’t ignore- all of the victims looked like you. From their hair color and skin tone, all the way down to body shape, you fit the unsubs type like a glove. Victim type, of course, was one of the first things the team identified when the case came in, but no one on the team had the courage to verbalize that all the victims looked as though they could be related to you.

It was well known throughout the team that you weren’t an easy person to spook, but the steady rhythm of your heart was beginning to speed and sputter. Adrenaline pitched you forward in your seat and you had to catch yourself from biting at your nails or twirling your pen.

“(Y/L/N),” Hotch said. “When I say that the entire team needs to go to the hotel and get some sleep, that means you too.”

“Yes, sir,” you said. “I’ll clean up and be right out.”

“Don’t keep us waiting too long,” he warned. It was a fair warning- if he hadn’t come to get you, you probably would have been staring at the photos all night trying to piece something together. You gathered your files and shoved them in your bag, taking one last long look at the evidence board.

“Hey,” an unfamiliar voice came from behind you, causing you to jump and turn.

Yeah, this case was definitely spooking you.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the officer said. He was taller than you and buffer than you, but his face and haircut showed his young age. “I just wanted to know if you have found anything yet. I’m just a beat cop, so they don’t tell me anything.”

He approached you slowly and easily, so slow and easy that if you weren’t a profiler you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You felt the pressure of his nearness and his gaze coming down on you.

“Nothing yet,” you said, though that wasn’t true. Over half the profile was finished, but there was a small voice in your head telling you that something wasn’t right about the situation happening. “Sorry. Hopefully the team will have something by tomorrow. Goodnight.”

You turned to leave no faster than you normally would so as not to cause suspicion- so far everything the unsub did was controlled and organized with no sign of falling into disevolution any time soon. Even if the officer was the unsub he wouldn’t dare stray from that control unless he was in the position where his psyche would snap.

And it did.

He seized you from behind, bringing a knife towards your throat to control you. With the other hand he yanked your gun from its holster and tossed it away, though you wouldn’t have been able to grab it anyways. You yelped as the blade grazed your skin just enough to draw blood from a cut across your collarbone.

“I’ve been sitting here all day,” the man whispered in your ear, his breath hot on the side of your face. You wanted to turn away from him, but the knife pressed against your throat kept your head still. “I’ve been watching you work… going over those photos again and again. I didn’t know whether you were testing me or whether it was a gift to see such a beautiful specimen examine the art I would turn it into.” He caressed your face. “The other ones weren’t so lucky.”

“Drop the knife.” You had never been so damn thankful that your boss was a stickler for punctuality. Hotch stood in front of you, gun drawn. Reid was next to him, his revolver in his hand as he slowly moved around so they had the unsub trapped at two angles.

Hotch moved forward. “You heard me,” he said sternly. “Drop the knife and let Agent (Y/L/N) go. You’re not getting out of this.”

“But I’d get to see them.” The hand that the unsub was holding the knife in was shaking now, causing the blade to bite into your skin. Hot blood ran from the cut it was creating. You only hoped now that you’d live long enough for that cut to become a scar. “I’d get to see them as artwork one last time.”

“They’re already artwork,” Reid said. You gazed towards him, but his eyes were locked on the unsub. “You see- there’s already blood drawn on their collar. Look.”

The unsub looked down at the shallow cut that he never intended to make, but was a result of his haste.

 Reid made eye contact with you as if he was trying to silently communicate something. “They aren’t a blank canvas anymore. You can’t make them look perfect.” He looked back at the unsub. “You messed up.”

In the shock of the statement the unsub faltered in his hold on you. You slipped sideways out of his grasp and fell to the floor.

There were one, two, three shots and a body hit the floor behind you.

You scrambled to get away from the unsub, even though he was dead, needing to get as far away from him as possible. Suddenly someone else was grabbing you. You went to pull away but-

“(Y/N)- (Y/N) it’s me.” The softness of Reid’s voice helped calm you and turned to look into his hazel eyes. They were wide with worry and concern.

You threw your arms around him, pulling him against you as you felt your body shake with the fear that paralyzed it before. Reid held you tight, rubbing a gentle hand on your back to soothe your nerves. “You’re safe (Y/N). You’re safe.”

---

You got on the jet the next morning and opted to sit alone on the couch instead of at the table with the others. There were bandages over the cuts on your skin. They didn’t hurt, but they needed to be re-dressed with cream and fresh gauze every few hours to promote proper healing. Hopefully, they would scar over into thin lines, just a shade lighter than your skin, hardly noticeable unless you knew they were there- but the chance of the skin healing darker, or with wrinkling, or bulging was far higher.

The clatter of something hitting the floor caused you to flinch away from the sound, looking up from the book you were reading in an attempt to distract yourself. Rossi’s pen had rolled off the table. He leaned over and grabbed it without a second thought, but someone was looking at you.

It was Reid.

You averted your eyes from him and back towards your book, but it was too late- he had already seen that your shell had a crack. He walked over to you, his gait long and lanky as always.

“I thought you were playing cards.” You glanced at him.

“You looked like you could use some company,” he said.

“I’m fine, Reid.”

“You flinched.”

The pause that filled the air wasn’t any more still or any more quiet than how the jet was before, but it felt like it.

“And I came to remind you to change your bandages.” He changed the topic, breaking the tension.

“If it’s a few hours late it won’t kill me,” you said back, trying not to look up at him. “I need a bigger mirror than the one in the bathroom anyways.”

“I can do it,” he said. You didn’t even have time to argue before he was opening your bag and pulling all the supplies out. He carefully removed the old bandages and pulled wipes out to clean the sites. “I didn’t mean it, you know.” He pulled an alcohol wipe from a disposable packet and began to carefully sterilize your wounds.

“Didn’t mean what?”

“The thing about you not looking perfect.”

You snorted. “It was true for the unsub. And it’s true now. These could scar over really ugly.”

“Or they could scar over beautiful.” He carefully dabbed healing cream over the site.

“And if they don’t?”

Spencer placed a clean bandage on top of the dressing before looking you in the eye. “You’ll look perfect, anyways.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x platonic!reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Running in the Dark

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 4139

Summary: The reader’s work as a decoy for one of Matt’s clients puts her in some hot water with her boyfriend- as well as a jealous ex-husband who has connections more dangerous than anyone could have imagined. 

Notes: This one honestly came about when I was walking around my campus at night. I literally pictured Matt watching over me from the top of the Humanities building. Yes, I am doing fine, how are you?

Warnings: Violence, general peril (I just love making the reader get herself into trouble, don’t I?)

More Matt Murdock: HERE

-

You knew he was there. Your eyes scanned the rooftops of the buildings enclosing you. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel him. Standing. Watching. Waiting. You could practically hear his frustrated pacing, his furious objections.

“This is a bad idea. There are other ways. Safer ways. You don’t need to do this.” 

All things he had said before tonight. 

But this was about more than just playing decoy so a woman could be free of her abusive ex-husband. 

This was about what that piece of shit could do for them. 

You may not have been able to hear him, but you knew he could hear you. So, as you pulled Nancy Bartman’s door closed and your hood further over your face- careful to let your hair show- you muttered up at the figure hiding in the shadows. 

“Back. Off.” 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You ignored it. 

Jogging at night in Hell’s Kitchen alone was a risk all on its own. Every alley you passed seemed to lurk with some unseen threat. Every shifting sound put you on edge. 

God, you were turning into Matt. 

You turned the corner to the street where Detective Morrow was waiting in a dark Sudan. If this didn’t work, everything could go back to square one. They had to catch this guy. You had to catch this guy. He knew something. Nancy wouldn’t say what, but you could tell she was holding something back. Bartman was the key. You could just feel it. 

The Sudan crept forward, keeping far enough away to not look suspicious, but close enough to give you a crumb of comfort. 

You could do this. 

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Says the one who misses date night to go after crime bosses.”

You couldn’t wait to see the look on Matt’s face when this was over. His mild annoyance of being wrong overshadowed by pride. Proud that his girlfriend had made a difference. That you had not only helped a woman in need but also got them one step closer to catching the bigger villain here. Fisk. 

You could do this. 

A hand pulled you into the alley. 

“Did you think it would be this easy, Nance?” Corey Bartman hissed into your ear, pinning you against the brick. “Did you think you could just leave me like that?”

You lifted your head, letting your hood fall back. “You’re never going to hurt your wife again, Corey,” you spat. 

The man’s eyes widened, then filled with rage. “Why you little bitch-”

You heard the flick of a switchblade. 

“Corey Bartman, you’re under arrest!” Detective Morrow’s boomed. 

Corey flipped you around, arm across your chest, and switchblade at your throat. Morrow raised her gun, as did the other cops. 

No no no, you needed him alive. 

“Drop the knife, Mr. Bartman,” Morrow ordered. “This is not how you want this to end.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Corey,” you muttered, trying to swallow without cutting yourself. You lowered your voice to a whisper, your words meant for a different presence. You could feel him, looming from one of the above rooftops. If Corey went any further, he would reveal himself and that would be a whole other problem.  “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“What did you say to me?” Corey snapped, tugging you closer. The blade dug just enough into your neck to break skin. You winced. 

Matt would smell the blood. 

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said again, hoping he would listen. 

“You can come back from this, Mr. Bartman,” Morrow said. She stepped closer, eyes meeting yours. “But not if you hurt her.”

You gave her a small nod, feeling the blood drip down your neck. 

Bartman gripped you, his hot breath on your ear. “This isn’t over.” 

He let you go. 

You couldn’t help the sigh of relief, pushing yourself away from him as Morrow pushed him against the wall and cuffed him. 

“You okay, Y/L/N?” She asked. “Theo, call a bus!”

“No, I’m fine,” you said. “Really. It’s just a scratch.” 

She handed Morrow off to another officer to put him in the car. “Are you sure? That looks like it hurts.”

“Nothing a little whiskey won’t help,” you smirked. 

“Yeah well, go get yourself a drink then.” She gave you a smile and put a hand on your shoulder. “You earned it.” She started to walk away, turning back. “I expect you bright and early at the station to give a statement though.”

You gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”

Morrow joined the rest of her team. You sagged back against the wall. 

“I know you’re there,” you breathed out. 

A gloved hand pulled you further into the alley, out of sight from the others. The hand lifted to your neck, just below your new wound. 

“He hurt you,” Matt growled. His other hand held onto your arm, holding you to him. “Morrow shouldn’t have let it get that far. He could have…” Matt trailed off. What if Bartman had done worse? What if he didn’t have time to stop him? 

“Hey,” you said softly, laying your own hand on his cheek, feeling the fabric of the mask under your fingers. “I’m okay.” You checked to make sure no one was coming, then brought his lips down to yours. When you pulled back again, you were smiling. “We got him.” 

Matt couldn’t help but return your grin. “You got him.” 

“I told you I would.” You poked his chest teasingly. “It was unwise to doubt me.”

“I never said I doubted you.”

“It was heavily implied,” you laughed, making yourself wince from the sting in your neck. 

Matt’s expression softened under his mask. “Come on. We should get that cleaned.”

You didn’t argue this time, letting him lead you back home. 

-

It had been a long night for both of you. By the time you got back to Matt’s apartment, exhaustion sagged in your shoulders and weighed in his steps. You breathed in the familiar air like you were drinking water in the desert. Matt’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you to the couch while he grabbed his first aid kit. 

“Really, Matt, it’s just a scratch,” you insisted. 

He didn’t listen, finding a cloth to dab at the now-drying blood on your neck. You winced a little, the alcohol stinging the open cut. 

Neither of you said anything. The silence hurt more than the cut did. 

“I know you’re upset,” you started softly. “But I told Nancy I would help to keep her safe. Now, she is.” 

Matt stayed quiet, putting the kit away. 

“Matt, please. I knew what I was doing.” You reached for him, fingers grazing his arm. “And I knew you were there, watching over me. I knew that I was safe.” 

In one quick motion, Matt pulled you into his arms. It almost felt like he was shaking. 

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered into your hair. “Please.” 

You sat, shocked for a second. Then, you wrapped your arms around him, running a soothing hand up his back. 

“I’ll try my best,” you teased, pulling away to look into those perfect dark, unfocused eyes. “I’m okay, Matty.” 

Matt’s hands cupped your face, gently bringing your lips to his as if to remind himself you were here. You weren’t hurt, not too badly anyway. He hadn’t lost you. You were here. 

“I’m okay,” you said again against his lips. 

Matt pulled you into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips. 

“We should get some rest,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow thanks to you.”

You bit your lip to contain your giggling. “You’re welcome.” 

Matt’s hand found the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. 

You leaned into his touch. “You’re right, though.” You pulled away from him, smirking. “We really should get some sleep.” 

His head fell back against the couch, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. Matt listened as the zipper of your sweatshirt, the fabric brushing over your skin as you took it off, walking toward the bedroom. 

“Are you coming or not?” You asked. 

In a blink, Matt was on his feet and following. 

-

Tangled limbs, sweat-stained sheets, and the memory of sighs filling the space enveloped you as you fell asleep. Matt kept his arms around you, as if afraid you’d run off and do something stupid. Not that sneaking out was ever an option with him. The problem with dating someone with enhanced senses. An overprotective someone who didn’t like it when you did your job because it occasionally put you in dangerous situations. Dangerous situations that you were perfectly capable of getting yourself out of. 

These were the thoughts running through your head as you stared up at the ceiling, Matt’s head against your stomach, his arms draped around your waist. 

Then, Bartman crept into your mind. And with him, came Fisk. 

Fisk. 

Bartman could have papers, maybe even whole files tying him to Fisk’s operation. But they would be at his apartment. The apartment that now lay empty with its inhabitant locked up. But Fisk would send someone… if he hadn’t already. 

You sat up slowly, trying to keep from moving Matt’s arm too much. 

If you could get to the apartment first, if you could find something, anything that could incriminate Fisk, you could wrap this up tonight. In and out under the cover of dark. Easy. 

��Where are you going?” 

You flinched. Maybe not so easy. 

Matt sat up beside you, kissing your shoulder. “Hmm?”

“My apartment?” God, even if he didn’t hear your heartbeat, that was unconvincing. You started to stand, but Matt gently grabbed your arm. 

“You want to go over there,” he said softly. 

You sighed. “There’s a lot of information just ripe for the taking.”

“So breaking and entering, theft, and pissing off a guy who beats his tenants into leaving is your plan?” 

“Well, I think we’re well past the pissing him off stage,” you said. 

Matt frowned. 

“All the more reason you need to stay here.” He moved closer to you, but you stood up. If he held you, you would let him. And you needed to work.

“I can’t just let this lie, Matt. He hurt people. Innocent families. And he did it all for Fisk.” You ran a hand through your hair, gathering and putting your clothes back on. “We have a chance to take them both down.”

Matt stood as well, putting his hands on your arms. “You’ve done enough. You helped them catch Bartman. Let the detective do the rest.”

You pushed him away. “You mean let you do the rest.” You crossed your arms, keeping just out of his reach. “You don’t get to lecture me about being safe when you go out there and do the exact same thing.” 

“Because I know how to take care of myself, Y/N,” Matt fired back. “You go out there, unarmed and unprepared and you might as well be digging your own-”

“I am not helpless!” You screamed, cutting him off. “I don’t need protection, I don’t need to be coddled, and I don’t need you.” 

As soon as you said the words, you felt them sink in, watching Matt’s face fall. He took a breath, squared back his shoulders, and his features hardened again. 

“Fine,” he said, concerningly calm. 

You were shaking from the raging mix of emotions inside you and it infuriated you to know that he could tell. He knew every tick, every clue to how you worked. And you knew so little about him. 

 “Fine,” you snapped. You turned, grabbing your keys. 

“Y/N, wait-” Matt started, his voice tinged with worry. 

But you were already gone. 

-

The sun hadn’t yet risen and the streetlights gave the world a menacing, muted yellow glow. You walked with your arms crossed over your chest, hands tucked under your arms to ward off the cold, and your sweatshirt hood pulled up. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being followed and it made you shiver more than the early morning air. 

“I swear to god, Matt,” you muttered to yourself, but, of course, there was no answer. You kept walking, head down and eyes searching. It wasn’t hard to find Bartman’s apartment again. You’d gone over it so many times with the detective that it felt like you’d been there a million times, even if you had never set foot inside. 

You went down the list, pressing each buzzer until someone let you in. It surprised you a little. After everything Bartman had put his tenants through, you expected them to be a little more cautious of who they let in. Maybe they didn’t have the energy to care anymore. After all, if the evil comes from within, what outside could be worse?

Going up the stairs, that creeping sense that made your hair stand on edge never went away. It was like someone was following right behind you, breathing down your neck. This wasn’t Matt. That was for sure. When he followed you, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, you knew it was to keep you safe. It wasn’t overbearing or dark. As annoying as it was sometimes that he didn’t trust you could take care of yourself, you always felt warmth in his presence. Like nothing could happen to you. 

This feeling wanted to hurt you. It wanted you scared. It wanted you to run. 

You picked the lock to Bartman’s apartment quickly and slipped inside. 

Everything was dark and the heater rattled and sputtered, doing little to warm up the frigid room. Many of the light fixtures lacked bulbs, probably to save on electricity. He was cheap with his building, so you weren’t entirely surprised to find he skimped on his own living situation. Besides, Fisk probably promised him a palace compared to this place. 

You turned on the flashlight on your phone and swept over the various, disgusting surfaces. You didn’t want to know what most of the stains on the tables and counters and floors were. When Fisk found men to do his dirty work, they certainly were dirty. 

Through the mess, you found what looked like it could have been a desk in another, cleaner life, and started going through the drawers. All you needed was something, anything that could connect Fisk’s companies and accounts to Bartman. Even if it was just a simple check, it could be enough for a warrant or at least an investigation into Fisk. 

As you rummaged around, the door clicked open and shut behind you. 

“I was hoping I’d get to see you again.” 

Your shoulders tensed. Your hand slowly reached for the taser in your pocket. 

“It was a clever trick, you know.” Bartman stepped toward you, flicking on one of the lamps that retained their bulb. “You look like her.” He took another step. “You’ve got that same bitchiness when you walk. Like you’re better than everyone. Better than me.” He ran a thumb across his bottom lip. “Still… you just happen to be my type, sweetheart.” 

“Stay away from me, Mr. Bartman.” 

“You pretended to be my wife, you can at least call me by my first name.” He held out his hand with a mocking grin. “Jerry Bartman. I would say it’s a pleasure, but it won’t be for you.” 

You backed away, but your back hit the desk behind you. 

There was nowhere to run. 

Shit.

“Who made your bail, Mr. Bartman?” You asked pointedly.

He just chuckled, looming over you. “I’ve got friends in high places, little girl.” His eyes fell behind you to an envelope sticking out of the bottom drawer. 

Bingo. 

“Thank you,” you said, regaining a little of your confidence. “For being such an idiot.”

You jammed the taser into his side, listening to it crackle against his flesh. He yelped and stumbled backward, giving you enough time to grab the envelope and dart for the door. 

His hand caught your ankle first, yanking you to the hard, uncarpeted floor. You landed on your right arm and felt something crack. Your scream was cut off by a kick to your stomach. 

“You…. little… bitch…” Bartman gasped out, holding his side with one hand and pulling back for another hit with the other. 

The door opened. 

Bartman looked up. 

The shot.

The blood. 

The body landed on top of you with crushing force, knocking the scream out of your lungs. 

As the tears cleared from your vision, you saw the man standing over you, dressed in black, with an indifferent expression painting his features. You scrambled to push Bartman’s lifeless form off of you. 

“Shame,” he said. He sounded bored. Like your life was little more than a nuisance he had to deal with. “And you’ve been so helpful getting him out of our way.” 

He raised his gun. 

Not knowing what else to do, you ran towards him, ramming into his ribs with your shoulder and making your arm scream from the secondary impact. He grunted and the second gunshot echoed through the apartment, finding its mark in the lamp bulb, shattering the only light in the apartment. 

You were plunged back into darkness, but so was your attacker. 

Remember what Matt taught you. Feel the air move. Listen to the smallest sounds. And never, ever let your guard down. 

A stumbling step signaled you to the man’s swing, allowing you to dive out of the way before his fist could collide with your already sore ribs. 

“What the hell?” He hissed. He reloaded his gun. 

You kept low and moved quickly, holding your throbbing arm against your torso. Judging by the thundering steps and the sound of him stumbling into things, Bartman’s killer was completely blinded by the dark. 

You ducked into the hallway and found it almost as dark as the room before. Someone had shut off the lights to the whole building. The only light was the EXIT sign at the end of the hall, tinting everything in a deep, menacing red. You could hear Mr. Trigger Happy still coming after you, and debated between your two escapes; down the stairs to hide on one of the lower floors, or out onto the faster fire escape, but left you exposed. 

You ran to the red sign. 

A quiet scream escaped your throat, a hand grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the exit. Your mouth was covered by a hand before you could scream again. Your back hit something firm behind you and an arm locked across your chest, holding you tightly. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay it’s me,” Matt whispered, his breath hot against the back of your neck, breathing heavily like he’d run here. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.” 

You whipped around, his arms wrapping around you, caging you safely in his embrace. 

“Matt,” you gasped, voice low so only he would hear. “They killed him. Fisk. He sent someone. He killed Bartman.” You shook in his hold, turning your head to try and look down the dark hallway. “There has to be more of them. We need to get out of here before they come.” 

Matt gently pushed you back, one hand firmly on your shoulder, the other gentle, softly tracing down your cheek. He could feel your heart racing, your broken bone scraping against itself, your cracked ribs creaking with every scared breath. Every sound only amplified in his chest. 

“Where is he?” He growled, feeling his anger bubbling over. 

“He isn’t important,” you said, a small smile breaking through your panic. You held up the envelope. “I think I found something. Bartman didn’t want me to find this and, clearly, this creep didn’t either.”

Matt shook his head, the black fabric of his mask molding to his hard expression. 

“Did Fisk’s man see you?” 

You swallowed. 

Your silence was enough. 

Matt moved you behind the wall, concealing you in a dark corner, and started back toward Bartman’s apartment. 

“Stay here,” he said. 

“Like hell,” you snapped. Tucking the envelope into your back waistband, you hurried after him. 

Matt turned, jaw tensed and tone dangerous. “Get out of here, Y/N. Go home.”

“What, so you can beat the shit out of some guy who shot at me?” You put your good hand on your hip. “I’m not going to hide. I want to finish this. Nancy Bartman deserves to stop being afraid. We all do.” 

Matt pushed you behind him. 

You grimaced, the spreading pain in your arm worsened by the sudden movement. 

“Really?” The hitman scoffed. “If I had known you’d be joining the party, I would have been quicker with the lady.” He smirked at you. “Friends in low places, huh?” 

“Fisk has you,” you glowered, stepping out from behind Matt, “I have him.” 

“Two birds-” He aimed at Matt’s head. “One stone.” 

Matt moved like a bullet, knocking the man back, twisting his arm to an unnatural angle, and kicking the gun across the floor all in one fluid series of actions. 

You didn’t waste time, picking up the gun and turning it on its former owner. Matt kept him on the ground, knee between his shoulder blades. You pressed the barrel against his temple. 

“Why did you kill Bartman?” You asked. 

“You know, if you wanted to get me going, you didn’t have to bring your friend.”

Matt dug his knee down. 

The man cried out. 

“Why did you kill Bartman?” You asked again, already knowing the answer. 

The assassin glared up at you, his eyes glowing in the red light. “Loose end. Just like you.” 

“Why does Fisk want this building?” 

“He made a deal.”

“So you do work for Fisk?” You pressed the metal harder against his skin, a small victorious rush coursing through you enough to ignore the screaming in your arm. 

He jerked suddenly, lunging for you. 

Matt slammed the man’s head against the carpet once… twice… The man stopped moving, though you could see his chest rise and fall faintly. 

“Did you hear that?” You exclaimed. “Of course, you heard it.” 

Matt didn’t say anything. He just grunted as he got the man up, pulling him back to the apartment and laying him beside Bartman’s dead body. 

“Call the police. I’ll make sure they find him here.” 

You did as he asked, saying that you were a neighbor and heard all the noise. He called Claire so she could be at the apartment to treat your arm. Then, you followed Matt up the roof where he could listen for the police to come. He didn’t say a word to you the entire time.

You could feel the anger tensed up in his shoulders and it wasn’t from the fight. This was a different anger, one that wasn’t violent or loud or could be worked out by hitting something. This was anger that came from one thing: fear. 

“I didn’t think they would come after him tonight,” you said softly, “let alone pay his bail and send him home.” 

Matt’s covered face stayed turned away from you. 

You took off the mask. “Matt, please.” With a hand on his cheek, you made him face you, staring into his beautiful, unstarring eyes. There were tears in them. 

“When I heard the second gunshot…” He whispered, voice cracking. 

A shot of guilt splintered through your chest. 

But you weren’t going to back down. 

“I know you think you are the only one who can face all of this, but you aren’t,” you said gently, but firmly. “You aren’t alone, Matt. We have to be partners if this is ever going to work.” 

Matt sighed. He listened to your heartbeat, reminding himself that it was still beating. You had made it through, even if he thought he’d been too late. You did that. He slowly brought your lips up to his, careful not to move your arm too much. 

When you both eventually pulled back, a small smirk spread across his face. 

“You know, when you were standing there, gun against that guy's head, even I was a little intimidated,” he chuckled. 

“Right? I can be a badass when I want to be,” you snickered, laying your head on his shoulder. You turned so you could see his face, lightly kissing his jaw. “We make a pretty good team. Maybe you should let me go out with you…”

Matt laughed, the sound turning less amused. “Don’t push it.” 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you held your injured arm in your lap as he held you. The two of you sat and waited for the sirens and lights to break through the dark of the night. 

-

Hey look, I remembered the tag list this time!

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascall; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216; @yellowbubblewrap

#matt murdock #charlie cox #matt murdock x reader #daredevil imagines #daredevil #marvel #daredevil born again #daredevil netflix

[justabigassnerd]

Night Scare

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,275

Warnings - inaccurate medical scenes (I tried), worried Jake, fluff

Summary - a night time asthma attack turns a normal evening into a worry fest for Jake

A/N - wow... about two weeks later I'm finally posting a fic. I am so sorry for delays I've been struggling with writers block, it's still not fully gone but my guilt is catching up to me so I'm literally forcing myself to write. this was an anon request and I hope I did it justice. as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Living with asthma is something you had just learned to deal with growing up. Always had to make sure your inhaler was on hand and learned to know when you could be on the verge of an asthma attack.

One evening, while your dad and Bradley were downstairs watching a sports match, you remained in your room, relaxing and scrolling through your phone. As you sit on your bed, scrolling through your phone, you began to cough occasionally but you shook it off, assuming it was just the ending of the cold you had just recovered from. Then your chest began to feel tight, like it was slowly being squeezed. You instinctively grabbed the inhaler that sat on your bedside table and took a puff of the medicine, settling back against the pillows and waiting for the medicine to do its job. After half an hour, you realise the inhaler isn’t working so you take another puff of the medicine and fight back a coughing fit that suddenly attacks you, taking your breath away from you as you struggle to recover it. Not wanting to risk losing your footing in your panic to get downstairs and risk hurting yourself, you open your phone and find your dad’s number, opening your messages and typing out a text.

Jake raised an eyebrow when he felt his phone buzz and saw your name above the text. He debated calling up to you but something in his gut was screaming at him to open the text, so he did.

‘I think I’m having an asthma attack’

“Call 9-1-1.” Jake says, leaping to his feet and heading for the stairs, leaving Bradley confused in the living room.

“What?!” Bradley calls up to Jake just as he disappears up the stairs.

“Call 9-1-1, y/n is having an asthma attack and I’m not taking any risks.” Jake calls down to Bradley who immediately pulls his phone out of his pocket and dials 9-1-1 while Jake bursts into your room to find you sat bolt upright and struggling to breathe. He could tell you were trying to keep calm so you could control your breaths a little better, but he could see the panic in your eyes.

“I’m here, sweetheart. Take another puff of your inhaler for me, okay? Rooster’s calling the ambulance now they’ll get here as quick as they can.” Jake says, sitting next to you on the bed and taking the small inhaler from your hands and holding it to your mouth so you could take a puff, he kept a close eye on you, seeing how you were doing.

Before too long, you heard the front door opening and Bradley talking downstairs before you heard footsteps heading up the stairs and you see two paramedics enter the room, equipment in hand as they approached.

“We’re going to need you to step back, sir.” One of the paramedics says, making Jake press a kiss to the top of your head and whisper reassuringly before he gets up from the bed, allowing the paramedics to assess you. The paramedics ask Jake for your name and what medication you are on which he gives, grabbing the medical information card he had and handing it to the paramedic, so they knew everything they needed to in order to help you. The paramedics help you downstairs to where a stretcher was waiting after assessing and concluding that you need to go to the ER for some medicine and observation. Jake is given permission to ride in the ambulance with you and just as he goes to follow you, Bradley stops him.

“I’m going to head home and get out of your hair. Keep me updated and I’ll come by when I can.” Bradley says and Jake nods, clapping Bradley on the shoulder.

“Thanks for calling the ambulance. I’ll see you around.” Jake says as the two walk out of the house, closing the door behind them. Bradley nods in acknowledgement before crossing to his Bronco while Jake gets in the back of the ambulance with you as the paramedic did what he needed to do. You were given an oxygen tube and some medicine, and your attack was seeming to wane thanks to it.

When the ambulance pulled up outside the hospital, the paramedics eased the stretcher out and wheeled you into the ER and one of the paramedics and Jake eased you onto a bed while the other paramedic filled in the nurse on what had happened. When you’re settled on the bed, the paramedics head back out to their ambulance while the nurse comes to your bedside.

“Hi, y/n. I’ve been informed that you’ve received some treatment and oxygen on the way over here and you seem to be doing better but we just want to keep you in for a few hours just in case you have another attack, okay?” The nurse says cheerfully as she inputs some final things on the tablet in her hand. You nod at her words as does your dad and the nurse then excuses herself to continue her rounds.

“You feeling okay?” Jake asks softly as he watches you.

“Feeling a lot better than I was earlier.” You say with a smile, making Jake smile gently and finally let himself relax.

“It was a little scary though.” You admit, looking away from your dad who softens at your words, reaching out and taking your hand gently in his own.

“I bet it was sweetheart. I thought it was scary just from my perspective I can’t imagine what it was like for you.” Jake says, watching you carefully as you shift your gaze to look back at him briefly.

“The important thing is you’re okay now. We’ll stay here for as long as the nurses want us to and then we’ll head home, and you can get some sleep and you can rest as much as you want tomorrow as well. We’ll take it easy.” Jake says reassuringly, giving your hand a small squeeze as well.

After almost three hours of lying on the hospital bed with constant check-ups, the nurses allow you to go home for the rest of the night, confident that you won’t have any more attacks for the night. They urge Jake to book you a doctor’s appointment as soon as possible to check how everything is going with your lungs and then you are cleared to go. As you exit the hospital, Jake is checking on the status of the Uber he booked and before too long it pulls up and the two of you get in the back seats and begin the journey home. By the time you get home, you’re just about ready to collapse into your bed. You immediately head up to your room and get into your pyjamas, quickly burying yourself under your duvet and curling up. It didn’t take your dad long to knock on the door and enter with your permission. He crossed to your bed and bent over to kiss the top of your head.

“Sleep well, sweetheart. If you need me, I’m just next door.” He whispers as you nod, eyes slipping shut instantly and Jake lets out a soft chuckle, pulling the duvet over you a bit more and leaving the room, turning the light off as he goes.

Jake returns to his own room, getting in his bed and lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He had just been through a scare that may taunt him for a while, but he knew you were just next door sleeping peacefully and he’d look after you as best he can.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x daughter!reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x daughter!reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x daughter!reader #jake hangman seresin #x daughter!reader

[ode2rin]

only for tonight

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader + suggestive | making out

midnight haze. empty opulent halls. hushed clandestine meetings. 

and a hand holding yours as if you were the only souls living. 

reo grasped your hand tighter, pulling you closer to him as he led you to a secluded, dark hall of the mansion. 

without uttering a word, reo gently pressed you against the cool, stone wall, his heart pounding in sync with your own. with just one glance, his lips found yours, and the world around you seemed to fade into oblivion. 

he tasted like whiskey, mixed with temptation and whole damnation. he tasted like a sin you'd spend your life paying for. 

he was a perfect blend of devastation and sacredness poured into a crisp black tie suit. so high and shiny, that your hands on his neck looked like filth in gold.

and yet, you returned the kiss with no trace of inhibition. you kissed him like an insatiable and famished prisoner begging for alms. 

and you might as well be considered a real prisoner with you roaming your calloused hands around a man like him.

but if it makes you a prisoner to touch him, then you willingly submit your soul to the crime of loving mikage reo. 

to touch him is a sin, yet heaven be damned for making his touch feel like redemption.

time lost its meaning as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as if you were afraid to let go. your fingers ran through his hair, relishing the softness under your touch. the warmth of his hand on your waist sent shivers up your spine, and you leaned into his embrace, cherishing the contrast between his warmth and the coolness of the wall against your back.

reo’s fingers traced a gentle path along your jawline, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. his lips found their way to your jaw down to your collarbones, and you tilted your head back, granting him more access. you couldn’t help but claw his shoulders from the way he’s leaving lingering bites to your neck. 

for someone who can’t be seen with you, he sure does love giving you marks for the whole world to see.

you pulled his head closer, your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered breathlessly, “they're going to look for you, young master –”

“reo. just reo,” he cut you off, halting on his pleasure to correct you, “i told you countless times to call me by my name.”

“i– reo, you must leave now. the guards will start looking for you.”

“then tell me to stop.” reo’s voice was soft, yet intense and commanding, he gently held your face, hands cupping your cheeks. 

“tell me to stop if you don't want this – if you don’t want me. you know i’ll do everything you want.”

but that was the thing, everything about him makes you want more.

the world could crumble around you, and still, you would seek his smile, his laugh, his touch – everything he is.

everything about mikage reo unleashes a greed you haven't even yet grasped. more, more, more, all of this. you want more of his fire, so much you wouldn't mind burning.

i want you. i love you. risk it. run away with me.

you wanted to let him know, you wanted to scream it for him – for everyone to know. so damn bad that you kissed him senselessly, selfishly, and thoughtlessly to stop your burning fantasies coming out of your throat.

 “i don't want you to stop.” just for tonight. “again, kiss me again. make me yours.” only for tonight.

a whirlwind of emotions danced in his eyes, searching for any uncertainty in yours, and when he found not even a trace, his lips curled in a smile that would surely haunt you in your dreams when this comes to an end.

“my pleasure. hold tight now, love.”

he lifted you effortlessly, wrapping your thighs around his torso as he carried you, gently pushing your head towards him to lock you in a passionate kiss.

with a gentle ease, he laid you down the mattress, never breaking your lips apart. the world seemed to fade once more, and all that remained was that you were going to claim him yours. 

in this bed, on this dark night, where everyone was asleep, he was yours.

and you were going to love him like it's the last thing your breath could afford. because once morning comes, you're giving him back to the glory he belongs.

note. thank you dearest @/kiyumiya for checking if it's too much xD

#☁️ my ode to you #mikage reo #reo mikage #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x y/n #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader

[bakerstreethound]

Solace

Relationship: Thomas Shelby x afab!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, choking, swearing, biting, likely a fwb situation (not specified), mentions of alcohol and smoking

Summary: Most nights you spend alone, but on the nights Tom comes around, your shared passion ignites, consuming you whole. On these nights, Tom finds solace he rarely has, finding comfort in your arms.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03)

Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: Hello my dears, I hope you've been well! This is my debut writing for Thomas Shelby and I hope it doesn't sound too out of character. I really got on a kick with Peaky Blinders. I hope you enjoy it! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

A gloved hand grasps your jaw, boring into his burning blue gaze. “Are you certain this is what you want, darling? Tell me no, now.” Tom’s deep timber whispers in your ear. 

“Yes Tommy, make me forget.” 

Without another word, Thomas shoves you by the hair, and practically drags you up the stairs to your flat, down the street from his. He knew something was up when your hands shook, drowning back your fifth glass of beer. That’s when he recommended you to stop but you foolishly didn’t. 

Sometimes you wish you could follow orders. 

Grief flew through you in waves, but you want to forget and Tommy was more than willing. All those years ago, he put forth an offer, a business transaction if you will. You are an associate, on good terms, the occasional shag helping you to clear your minds and frustrations. 

Tonight, you begged for something more not wanting forgiveness, you wanted him to tame the beast inside you, draw it out and stomp it to ash. You fear the person you’d become with the beast lose consuming the streets with the raw fury you unleash. It’s a terrifying ordeal to muse over and you can’t bring yourself to wonder anymore. 

Once on the bed, you swallow, looking up into his ocean eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to hold you steady. His scent intoxicates you, surrounding you with familiarity and warmth. The heaviness in your shoulders eases a fraction as you take in his form, hidden under his coat that you borrowed time and time again.

You like the way it frames your body, your armor making you untouchable to the others. You are fearsome in your own right, but at this moment, you want to forget the screaming faces, the nightmares, and the sorrows that plague your days haunting you whenever and wherever you please. 

“You’re thinking again. Don’t want you to think tonight, love.” His voice is smooth, you almost forget how it enraptures you when you hear it, but your body responds in kind, your arms reaching out to him and he obliges, joining you on the foot of the bed. 

He removes his coat, draping it along the footboard, his black waistcoat and white button-up shirt a vision to your sore eyes. You don’t think you’ll ever get over seeing him this way. “That's a good start, now yeah?” He huffs, a small smile ghosting along his lips when your arms wrap around his waist, situation yourself close to him, burying your face in his neck. His hands stroke along your back, and he exhales slowly, murmuring to himself. 

“Everything okay, Tom?” You press a kiss to his neck, earning a shaky sigh. He takes another drag from his cigarette, and smoke rings following in his wake. “Just fine, love,” he replies, his free hand stroking along your back, pressing you against him.

His heart thrums steadily and you find peacefulness in its rhythm, happy he came back to you relatively unscathed. Nothing is ever guaranteed in his line of dealings, so you take what you can of him when you have the chance and so far, he hasn’t let you down but you knew the risk you were getting into associating yourself with him. Granted, he did give you safety and a pension which allows you to be more self-sufficient and free than other members of your broken family could boast. 

The kisses that trail along your neck turn to flame, and the soft touches along your sides turn to grip you hard, needing to feel more of you. His lips capture your own and you fall into him, the tears of sorrow soon turning to pain. Your buried grief, the beast that consumed you on nights like these, soon turned to throngs of passion you continue to stroke, and Tom continues to stroke from you.

Long gone are your thoughts rendering you immobile for the moment, yet like all good things, some parts have to end. Yet, not here or now it doesn’t happen, you’re much too lost in the depths of Tom’s piercing gaze, your nails digging into his back, earning low grunts of approval from him as he filled you with all of him, your worries all but obsolete.

The feeling of his skin against yours is something to relish and you take what you can, his breath hot in your ear, the sheer weight of him pressing him into your mattress is heavenly torture. 

“Tom, please.” 

His hand clasps around your throat, baring his teeth as he grunts. “Easy love, I’ve got you now, right? Good good that’s right.” He squeezes gently, applying just the right pressure to get you squirming. 

“T-Tom…” 

“Now now, love, you can take it, just like that.” his other hand strokes your side, his lips taunting your own, biting harshly and swallowing your groans whole. It’s all-consuming and your mind loses itself in all of him.

He smells and tastes of cigars and whiskey, your hands card roughly through his hair, earning a pleasant noise from him. He rarely takes you gently, but when his frustrations get the better of him, you welcome him into your arms as you’ve done countless times before. 

His gentle encouragements filled with devastating promises pull your mind into the throes of passion, the curl of his fingers guiding you to a high you could only ever dream of. 

“Hell, just like tha’ Tom,” you dig in to his shoulders, not caring if anyone clear across the street could hear. They were all likey at the Garrison anyways, enjoying the booze and Arthur’s lively tales as he handed out the drafts. They mattered naught, as you continued to card your fingers through Tom’s hair, his gasps and grunts sending you over the edge, with him fsoon following behind. You chuckle despite yourself, kissing his lips once more. 

“I don’t ever thing I’ll get enough of you, Tom.” 

“Nor I, you,” his deep timbre sends shivers down your spine and you hate the hope that floods in its wake. Perhaps he’d stay tonight with you. He never gave much indication if he’d stay with you these nights he appeared or not, disappearing as quickly as a spectre and left you waking from a blissful haunting dream, an unfading scar imprintded on your brain, intertwined within your heart. 

He fiddles with your hand, pulling you from your musings, intertwining it with your own, dragging you on to shaky legs before pulling you into his arms, an arm wrapped under your legs to support you. 

“Let’s get cleared up, shall we?” 

“Aye, lead on, Mr. Shelby!” a smile tugs at the corner of your lips and your heart flutters. There it is again. Hope. Unfaltering hope in the midst of it all in your dark world, and you found a spark, a glimmer of light following it no matter the cost. You would fight to keep it in your life, to keep him with you as long as he is willing. 

Later when he has you in his arms, your face nestled in his neck are one of the times he can find respite and he allows himself to relax, taking another drag of his cigarette, listening to your soft sighs give way to sleep, tangled in the aftermath of passion. 

He smiles to himself, pressing a kiss to your cheek, closing his eyes. Maybe, maybe the nightmares will pass him by this time. For you are by his side, his solace on many a sleepless night.

****** 

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #if he's ooc I apologize #I started this in the throes of grief #so it might be a little choppy #it was nice to try out something different #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic

[wildbluesorbit]

Wounded IIS || JTK

…a continuation of London

18+mndi

paring: Jake!reader(f)

LONDON MASTERLIST

A/N: I hadn’t noticed until later that the last 2k words of Wounded II cut off. It isn’t much but it’s plot so without further ado, here’s the last scene. Please let me know what you think !!

Content Warnings || mentions of a toxic relationship & night terrors, pillow talk, previously said boner lol

Word Count || 2k

– YOU –

His warmth cores against your back and bakes through the rest of your limbs. You readjust to try and let some of the cool night air ventilate between your warming bodies, but Jake only moves with you, tucking you further into him.

“Jake,” you whisper to no one conscious.

He doesn’t budge. You wait for panic to pour into the room. But it never does. The need to squirm away from Jake’s touch never forces itself on you. Instead, you linger, daring to defy your limits.

You melt back into his embrace and keep the tempo of his rhythmic breathing, huffing against the shell of your ear.

In the past year, Jake has thoroughly sunk under your skin, and it finally resonates this whole time you had been missing your best friend.

You turn your head to view the moonlight pouring in through the window, catching Jake’s cheek and nose and relaxed pout. You swear he’s never looked this serene. You almost want to unpack and settle your life here; to pin the moonbeam in its place to see Jake at such a still in the light’s beauty all the time.

That is until he grinds his hips against your backside, revealing his hard-on pressing into your flesh. Again to your surprise, you find yourself pressing into the sensation. For this small second, you allow yourself to enjoy laying with him, especially because you aren’t ready for anything further.

“Jake,” you place your hand over his and squeeze.

He slightly stirs until you whisper his name again. Taking advantage of his new privilege, he cranes his head down to featherly press a pucker against your shoulder, angling his hips to where you aren’t being prodded any longer.

His sleep-coated voice rasps against your skin, “Are you okay? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

You whisper to ease him out of his freshly awoken state, “Why are you back so soon? You aren’t supposed to know I sleep in here.”

“I’ve known since the first time you were home alone,” you feel his sleepy smirk stretch across your skin as he revisits a memory you do not share, “I always find your socks on the floor.”

His answer catches you off guard, “Oh, well thank you for not making me feel bad about it. I thought I was stealthier than that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he yawns, muffled by your shoulder blade.

You slowly pave the subject towards your burning questions, “Did everything go alright on your trip?”

“Yes, we just finished ahead of schedule and I wanted to come home and see you,” he hums against you and squeezes you a bit tighter.

His sweetness suddenly makes you red and ugly with shame, “I’m sorry you came home to that. It must have been unsettling.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he sleepily scolds, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you’re not some scary monster that’s going to shoo me away. You’re dealing with a lot, I get it, but you’re not a lot.”

“Okay,” you don’t say anything further on the subject at the risk of tears.

He then asks just like he always does, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” you dodge and swerve into your inquiries, “Want to talk about your outburst the other night?”

“Not really,” he returns your tone but gives in, “but I suppose we must. I am so so, really, very, terribly sorry. And this is not an excuse, just an explanation. I was very drunk. I didn’t mean a word I said, I was just lashing out.”

“I was never mad at you,” you admit, “just hurt.”

“You have every right to be, I should never have said those things,” you can hear guilt clawing at his every word.

Yet, you can’t help but wonder where the root of his words stemmed, “Are you mad at me, Jake? You know- about all those things you said?”

“No, no, angel,” he is quick to weed that notion from your mind, “I could never be mad at you. I was mad at someone else and I was not in my right mind and you took the brunt of it, I’m so sorry.”

“Josh told me what happened at the bar that night- what that girl said to you,” you feel him physically cringe around you as you confess your knowledge.

“Josh- I swear if his mouth was any bigger he’d be-,” Jake grunts next to your ear.

“No, I’m glad Josh told me,” you come to his twin’s rescue, “he put some things in perspective for me.”

“Well, as much as the sound of my brother ‘putting things in perspective’ for you terrifies me, I didn’t want to tell you and you feel like it was your fault,” Jake counters.

Rightfully so, as you had immediately assigned the blame to yourself.

“Jake do I-,” you hesitate, not sure how to ask without upsetting him, “Does it embarrass you when you show up without- Do I embarrass you?”

“Please, don’t ever feel like you embarrass me,” you swear Jake’s frown and creased brown are audible as he sternly shoots down the theory, “Quite the opposite. I just miss you is all. I miss feeling you by my side. I miss leaning over to tell you stupid thoughts that cross my mind. I miss having you out with everyone and seeing you enjoy yourself and play along with everyone’s antics. I miss looking down in the pit at my shows and seeing you with your hands in the air. I miss you dancing without giving a shit as to what anyone else thinks. I just hate seeing you confined to this house.”

Your first instinct is to be offended but you know he is right. And you don’t want to ever discourage him from being honest with you, especially about what is rattling around in his head.

“And I’m not trying to pressure you because I will be here whenever you are ready,” his voice becomes a small soft thing that urges you to cradle it, “I know we never talk about it but I always think about us.”

“You shouldn’t be waiting for me,” you quip, pricked by guilt at the amount of affection his words harbor for you.

“You speak as if I can look in any other direction, angel,” he muses and laughs through his nose, “The very thought of you sparks electricity.”

“Jake-,” you can’t help but fuss, “you don’t get it. I don’t know when or even if I'll ever be ready. Time is a precious thing. Don’t waste yours on me.”

His fingers absent-mindedly begin to fidget with the hem of your shirt as Jake carefully strings together the articulation of his next thought, “I don't claim to know or even understand what you're going through, I just want to help in any way I can to get you through it. Because you will get through it, that’s why nothing I do for you could ever be a waste. But I need you to completely forget the other night because I promise I am not going to hurt you.”

His last words ring in your ears. You know you are guarded but you hadn’t even registered that’s exactly what you had been doing to him. Brick by brick, you were slowly succeeding to somewhere cold and isolated, trapping yourself in the exact opposite of where you needed to be. You are certain the issue does not lie within a question of trust, Jake is probably the only person you do trust. Yet for a reason that has no name, it's still not enough to let him all the way in.

“Alright, Jake, you know I trust you,” trying not to lead him on, “but I have seen the way your hands twitch in your sleep now. I just don’t think I’m any good to you- to anyone. Not right now. Not like this.”

He runs his fingers up and down your arm,

“Like what?”

Josh’s words come crashing wildly through your head once again. Jake’s faith in you is set in stone. It isn’t a matter of if for him but when you’ll come around. You want more than anything to be by Jake’s side again. After the way Jake has cared for you, all you want is to deliver his faith into his reality.

The only real thing you find yourself coming back to is Jake. He is the only thing you never find yourself fighting to care about in a world losing its color. He is never a chore or a burden. And in such a confusing season, he is the only thing that has constantly held value in your realm.

If trying to overcome for only yourself is not working, maybe you could try facing your fear for a friend. All you ever want to see is Jake happy, and to be the reason for the smile on his face would only help you heal.

“Jake,” you whisper his name, not even sure if you can even form the next words on your breath but already too far into your thought to turn back, “the next time you go out- maybe- I want- I might- I’m going too.”

You can hear him straining to tame his sudden spring of serotonin at the thought, “Are you sure, angel? You have nothing to prove to me.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, Jake,” you proclaim in overconfidence, “I'm more than sure.”

“Well, I’d be more than ecstatic to have you join me,” he fits the crease of his hand into the dip of your waist and squeezes, “but remember, no rush, no pressure.”

“Unless it's a flat party,” you quickly blurt out the stipulation, “I’ve had enough flat parties for a lifetime.”

“Completely understandable,” he nuzzles back into you and yawns, indicating his next wave of dormancy, “I think we’re going bowling later this week. We can abuse our power to rent a few lanes. Should be quiet and secluded. Can’t wait to see you there.”

You can’t help but wonder if you’re making a mistake. This time you presented a seemingly confident front. What if this time you diminish his hope in you? That is if he hadn’t already seen right through your facade.

“Sleep now-,” Jake yawns out fragments, already slurring into slumbering, “I’ll keep you safe.”

You shoo away the swarm of “what ifs” long enough to fall back under a drowsy spell once more as Jake instructed.

pretty please tell me what you think of this little nugget

taglist❤️‍🩹 - @ageofbajabule @alwaysonthemend @anythingforjtk @becinabubblegvf @dancingcarbon @dannys-dream @dayumclarizzel @do-it-jakey-baby @dont-go-home-without-me @edgingthedarkness @fomopheobe @gretasfallingsky @gretavangirlie @gretavanglimmers @gretavangroupie @gvf23 @gvfmarge @hannahrk @heckingfrick @hsfallingsky @imleavingyoufornewyork @kiszkazz @klarxtr @itsafullmoon @jakesguitarsolo @jakesmustache @jakeysbuttsheeks @lipstickitty @livkiszka @lyndz2names @mindastreamofcolours @mountain-in-springtime @mrbrownstne @nina-23-45 @notjordie-gvf @sacredjake @smoking-jakelane @sparrowofthedawnsworld @kiszkas-canvas @takenbythemadness @thewritingbeforesunrise @tommie-gvf @tripthelightfatality @vanfleeter @violet-hayes @wetkleenex-gvf @zoe-tally06

#london gvf fic #london jtk series #jake kiszka #jake gvf #jtk #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka gvf #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka fluff #jake gvf smut #greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #greta van fluff #gvf smut #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf fluff #gvf angst #greta van fic

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 6

Probably my last post before the new year. Thanks for reading!

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 1100

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: military setting, violence, explicit language.

“Are you sure she’s sleeping?” A low, husky voice whispers at the end of my cot, near the fireplace.

“Hasn’t moved in an hour. Breathing’s been consistent. She’s sleeping,” Another barely audible man responds. I know immediately I shouldn’t hear what they’re about to say. This conversation is trouble. This conversation is dangerous. This conversation is about me.

My ears perk up at their voices and it takes everything in my bones not to physically react to their words. I’ve been lying here for what feels like hours. I drift in and out of consciousness, but ultimately don’t feel safe enough to get any significant rest. Gunshots from the Ultranationalist’s attack on the base still ring in my ears. And despite being surrounded by some of the most efficient and deadliest soldiers to live – men who were willing to risk their safety to ensure my own – I don’t feel comforted by their presence. Their intentions, the intentions of the entire task force are still unknown to me and that’s exactly how they want it to stay.

I’m to be left in the dark. Whatever information they have is important. Important to their end goal and important to me. Because for some godforsaken reason I am tied up in this whole thing, yet they won’t tell me how or why. Whatever their reason is, it's strong enough to hold me here captive under the guise of being a prisoner.

The tiny cabin is deadly silent. The fire has died down and the remaining sleeping men breathe lightly. The cold night seeps in from the windows, but the combination of the fire, sleeping off the ground in a cot, and hiding under the wool blanket Ghost gave me has left me feeling the warmest I’ve felt in days. Despite this and my utter exhaustion, it still isn’t enough to sleep.

“Today was too close,” the concern is evident in the man’s voice. I listen hard, real hard and think I can make it out to be Soap’s Scottish accent.

“They weren’t supposed to know so soon,” I recognize the anger in Ghost’s raspy voice immediately. Something tells me that the other men aren’t supposed to hear what they’re talking about either, but I don’t know why they didn’t move out of earshot to the shadows of the kitchen instead. Maybe surveillance is harder from afar or maybe it doesn’t actually matter if the others hear. I can’t be sure.

“Well, how’d they find out?” Soap asks.

“I don’t know,” his answer is blunt and there’s an edge to his voice that’s ready to cut. There’s more to the story that Gaz told me today. I can’t stop my thoughts from running and wondering if any of his story was even true to begin with. How much of what they’ve told me is made up? What were we really doing at that base?

There’s an uneasiness that has grown attached to my bones. It aches like growing pains as it works its way into the marrow and from there into my bloodstream. Every instinct I have tells me I’m in danger. There’s no pharmaceutical capable of numbing this kind of trouble.

“Does Price know?” Soap asks. His voice is louder than it was before and there’s an urgency to his tone. I’m not the only one left in the dark. Information around here comes on a need-to-know basis. Ghost is the only one of these men who “needs to know”. It’s a stark reminder of whose rank is high enough to be considered in the loop.

“If he does, it’s not something he’ll disclose over dispatch,” Ghost whispers as he keeps a close watch on the other men. Any change in their breathing and the conversation’s done. He won’t risk a potential eavesdropper. Little does he know.

“Think there’s a mole?”

“That’s a dangerous word to throw around. Don’t use it so lightly,” Ghost warns him.

It’s silent for a moment as they consider their next words.

“We’ve lost our edge,” Soap whispers.

“I know.”

“They’re going to come after us now.”

“I know.”

“After her,” his voice tightens.

“I won’t let that happen,” Ghost snaps. My whole body feels as though it's vibrating, shaking with such intense fear that it’s all I can focus on. In reality, I lie as still as stone. I don’t want to think about what they’d do if they knew I was awake. Who the fuck are they talking about? The Ultranationalists? How the hell am I tied up in this whole thing? My heart races and it feels like there’s no oxygen making it to my lungs.

A tiny thought scratches my brain. A thought that wants to confirm the suspicions I’ve had all along. But I push it down. I can’t take any more.

“Our resources are limited,”

“We’ve made do with less,” his voice is brittle, ready to crack. “We just need to wait for Price.”

“Then what?”

“Then we reassess our circumstances based on his intel,” Ghost’s response is straight out of a textbook. It’s robotic. It’s hiding something.

“Think we can still leverage her?” Soap’s words are cautious. My blood runs cold and for a moment I forget to breathe. What does he mean by “still”? What the hell am I leverage for? It takes my entire will to hold my position. I have to manually force myself to breathe. Each breath feels tight and laboured. I worry it looks unnatural, that they know I’m faking.

“If today’s retaliation is any indication, then I’d say she’ll be more than enough,” goosebumps rise on my skin as a sense of unease takes control of my body. This whole situation is so utterly surreal that it has to be a dream.

Their conversation lulls and my ears pick up on a quiet set of muffled footsteps approaching on the carpet. I almost can’t hear them, but I sense someone standing over me now. A man’s large, ungloved hand brushes against my neck as he grabs a strand of hair and gently wraps it around his fingers.

“I don’t blame them,” the deep voice rumbles at my side. “There’s just something about her,” he murmurs as his thumb brushes along the lock of hair.

“How far do you think they’re willing to go?” the other man says, still standing at the end of the cot.

“As far as we can push them. Makarov is close. I can feel it,” his low voice rumbles next to me.

“But we don’t have the element of surprise anymore.”

“No, but we have her,” he drops the strand of hair and takes a step back. I feel his eyes slowly rake over my body as they examine every inch. “And she’s all we need.”

PT7:

https://at.tumblr.com/sunonyoreface/he-knows-simon-ghost-riley-pt-7/frutyvgwyrsl 

#COD MW2 #cod imagine #MW2 #MWII #mw2 imagine #soap cod #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #cod fanfic #simon riley fanfic #he knows

[useramor]

humming/singing for the soft fic prompts, if you're inspired <3

okay, so this totally did inspire, because i ended up writing 1.6k for it in this boba shop <3 thank you so much for sending a prompt my love! i hope you like it (and shout out to my best friend for helping me with the song choice)

algo contigo | word count: 1.6k

send me a soft prompt

Eddie thinks Buck’s taking a nap. To be fair, he was, but he’s been slowly drifting back to consciousness for the past few minutes. He can’t really tell, time feeling like it did when he was a kid and took a nap during summer break. Everything feels bathed by sunlight; warm and light and easy, his muscles heavy with sleep.

It’s not late July, though, and the warmth that he feels covered in comes more from Eddie’s finger carding gently through his hair than any actual sunlight.

Buck feels…rested. For the first time in god knows how long, he feels calm. Content. He’s not satisfied, not quite. There’s an itch he hasn’t quite figured out how to reach, a want that’s so bonedeep he doesn’t look it in the eye. 

But it tugs stronger, punches him in the gut a little deeper every time he catches Eddie’s eye across the station. There’s a whisper in the back of his mind that’s been trying to tell him something since Eddie first walked into his life. 

It’s been getting louder. Since the well, since the shooting, since lightning coursed through his body and all he could think was Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. I need to go home. 

To him, that little voice would whisper every time. I need to go home to him.

Eddie’s always been his safe space. Eddie’s always been where his heartbeat is steadiest, but ever since he left that coma nightmare, it’s been different. 

He has a way to make sure he’s actually awake. Actually here, where he belongs.

There was no night in the dream. His eyes blink open blearily and the room is a warm orange in the way it gets as the sun dips below the horizon. 

Check.

His brain, even in its hazy fog, knows what day it is. Carla dropped Chris off at Hen and Karen’s a few hours ago. It’s a Friday, he knows that much. They got off a twenty four hour shift a few hours ago, which means it was Thursday yesterday. Time is moving. 

Check.

And then there’s Eddie. Eddie, who somehow maneuvered Buck in his sleep so his head would be positioned on his lap, whose fingers are gently massaging his scalp, who is singing—so softly, nothing more than a gentle lullaby.

He had none of this in his coma dream. Eddie was a void, a lost piece of the puzzle, a missing step as you were headed down a spiral staircase. 

But here? He’s everything.

“Y hace falta que te diga que me muero por tener algo contigo,” Eddie whispers, his voice so gentle it almost has Buck dipping back into sleep. He doesn’t risk turning to look up at Eddie, doesn’t want to risk him stopping now that he has an audience that can actively listen.

Buck could count on one hand the amount of times he’s heard Eddie sing.

Only ever to Christopher. It happened more when he was younger—and, Jesus, Buck can’t start thinking about how much Chris has grown since they met because he’ll definitely start crying—but there was one night recently. Just a few weeks ago. 

It was the first night Buck stayed over after the accident. Christopher was refusing to leave him, stuck to his side all throughout dinner and the movie they put in, because Eddie still believes in DVDs. 

(They have all the streaming services. Buck knows, because they share them. Eddie pays for Disney plus, Buck pays for Netflix. Why they never use one of those every time Buck spends the night is beyond him.) 

Buck woke up that night to Chris crying; loud, racking sobs that had him fighting back tears. He got up to check on him, but Eddie beat him to it. Buck hovered by the door as Eddie whispered low, calming reassurances in Christopher’s ear, telling him it’s okay, he’s here, everyone’s okay. 

He started singing some song Buck didn’t recognize, and it had Chris falling asleep within minutes.

It’s a pity Eddie doesn’t sing more often. He has a beautiful voice. 

“Y es que no te has dado cuenta de lo mucho que me cuesta ser tu amigo,” Eddie continues. Buck’s pretty sure he’s heard this song before, but the words don’t linger in the air long enough for him to register it. 

Between the singing and the fingers playing with his hair, Buck really almost falls asleep again, but Eddie’s singing to him. There’s no way he’s missing this, so he bites his tongue hard enough to ache, focuses on the sting, and makes sure to stay awake.

“Ya no puedo acercarme a tu boca sin deseartela de una manera loca,” he murmurs, and, okay, Buck understands enough Spanish that the sentence has his cheeks heating up. 

His Spanish is pretty rusty now, but there were days once upon a time where he could pick up chicks in Peru with a heavy American accent and a cheesiest Spanish pick-up line his bartending friends dared him to use. 

He’s not sure Eddie knows that, though. Doesn’t think he’d say I can’t get close to your mouth without wanting it in a crazy way, if he knew. 

Buck’s blushing, he knows. It’s taking a crazy effort to keep his breathing even, especially when Eddie continues. Buck doesn’t catch the next line, even though he’s trying to focus on it. His body really is tired. He really does want to go back to sleep. 

Eddie hums a bit of the song, the melody wrapping around Buck like a blanket.

“No quisiera yo morirme sin tener algo contigo.” 

It’s similar to the first line he sang, and it makes Buck’s breath hitch. 

I would not want to die without having something with you.

Eddie stops instantly, hand stilling. Buck turns on his lap so he’s looking up at him. He squints up at Eddie’s face, smiling softly to himself at his expression. Eyes a little wide and a little panicked, cheeks a little pink, but he’s smiling so sweetly when he notices Buck’s not going anywhere. 

“You know I understand Spanish?” Buck says cheekily, tilting his head. Eddie groans, his head tilting back. It exposes the long column of his throat, and, for the first time, Buck doesn’t feel guilty for not looking away. 

Eddie’s eyes stare down at him, a twinkle in the warm, honeyed brown of his iris. He looks a little flustered, and Buck wants to kiss him so, so bad. 

That’s the whisper. The one he’s been refusing to let get louder, because he couldn’t, wouldn’t, shouldn’t risk the best relationship he’s ever had. 

For once—for once—he doesn’t think it’d ruin anything. Not when the hand not currently in Buck’s hair moves to grab his hand and twines their fingers together. 

“I did not know that.”

Buck nods, thinking over the song’s lyrics.

“Did you mean it?”

Eddie nods; his smile is tiny and loving and fond, but it looks like it could just as easily take over his face if this moment didn’t feel so private. 

“I did.” 

“I can’t—I can’t get close to you without wanting to kiss you, either,” Buck admits. His heart isn’t hammering wildly in his chest like he thought it would if he ever got enough courage to say this. 

Eddie’s grin grows cheeky. “I didn’t say that,” he teases, because Buck definitely mistranslated a little bit. He got the gist, though. 

“No, you just said you don’t wanna die without having something with me.”

“Maybe what I meant is a friendship.”

“Eddie?”

“Hm?”

“Just kiss me.”

Eddie’s smile is brilliant, but Buck doesn’t get to look at it for long. Too busy closing his eyes and leaning up so he can meet Eddie in the middle and let their lips meet. The angle’s a little awkward, not quite a spiderman kiss, not quite normal, either. Buck’s sideways and his arm’s twisted uncomfortably to prop him up, but it’s still the best first kiss he’s ever had. 

Buck can feel how much Eddie loves him with the soft, slow drag of his lips against his. Can feel it in the way it’s just lips, just soft, easy, almost shy. Their lips stick a little as they pull away, and it’s giddy. He feels a bit like a teenager, the way just one kiss has him breathless. 

“Hi,” Eddie whispers, face still close enough to Buck’s that he feels the words as a breath on his smile. “I love you.”

Buck wants to laugh. There’s some emotion in his chest that’s bubbling, threatening to spill over, and he wants to let it. Wants to laugh until he can tuck all of Los Angeles inside the pocket of his joy. 

He feels so indescribably happy. 

“I love you. I love you.” He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’s never gonna get tired of saying it. 

“C’mere,” Eddie murmurs, trying to angle Buck’s head so he could kiss him proper. Buck gets with the program faster than he’s ever gotten anything in his life, scrambling to straddle Eddie on the couch, and does his best not to get high on the way Eddie’s eyes go dark. The way they go half-lidded, the way his pupils seem to swallow all of him as his hands slide up his thighs. 

Buck leans in and kisses him again. Despite their position, it’s just as tender as the first one. He kisses him until he can’t breathe, until he’s dizzy, until he feels a promise of more trapped between their bodies. 

And he lets the whisper take root until it’s shouting in his chest. 

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Eddie kisses him again. He doesn’t silence it.

#bia.fic #buddie #buddie fic #i hope you like this darling!!!

[asttrogirl]

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧︱𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

﹙❀﹚PAIRING; gojo satoru x f!reader

﹙❀﹚WC; 0,8k

﹙❀﹚SUMMARY; satoru knew better than to abuse power but he loved it when you begged for help.

The summer night breeze gently fluttered your hair as you stood in the dark and desolate abandoned building. The lights of Tokyo city flickered in the distance, creating a mysterious and dangerous atmosphere. The silence was occasionally interrupted by the howling wind through the empty corridors, and the shadows lengthened, adding a touch of tension to the air.

You silently lamented accepting this solo mission, unaware that you would face a curse of greater magnitude than expected. The worn-out walls and broken windows allowed the faint moonlight to seep in, casting sinister shadows in the surroundings. You felt trapped in a labyrinth of darkness, without a clear way out.

"Satoru, listen. Tell the professor I need help," you urgently exclaimed through the communication device as you moved stealthily, trying to dodge the twisted tendrils of the Grade 2 curse that writhed threateningly before you.

From the comfort of his bed, Satoru smirked. "And what if I refuse?"

"Satoru, this is not a game," you responded with frustration, feeling the pressure mounting around you.

The building, once bustling with human activity, now seemed to whisper with an air of abandonment and despair. Inaudible murmurs mixed with the creaking of rotten floorboards under your feet, creating an oppressive atmosphere. You knew that saving civilians was no longer one of your immediate concerns; your own survival had become the top priority.

"I'm just telling you that I can't bother Yaga. Besides, I'm about to take a nap," Satoru taunted shamelessly, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

"Satoru, just do it already!" you demanded, feeling adrenaline coursing through your veins as you confronted the looming threat.

"Say the magic words," Satoru challenged, relishing the tension and risk from the comfort of his position.

Frustrated and with no time to lose, you ended the call before continuing to ascend the abandoned building. Every step was a struggle against the shadows and the terror that seemed to lurk from every corner. The darkness seemed to want to swallow you whole.

You could feel the curse nipping at your heels, its twisted tendrils seeking to ensnare you. But before you could react, an enigmatic and familiar figure materialized in front of you. A bright, white halo formed a few meters away, illuminating the surroundings with its supernatural glow.

"Hey, that's mine," Satoru said, with a popsicle in his mouth and dark glasses hanging on his nose. Despite his carefree attitude, his eyes reflected determination and bravery.

The curse seemed to completely ignore Satoru's presence, as if acknowledging his power and being overpowered. Gojo's attention focused on you as he approached, filling the air with his overpowering presence. His penetrating gaze challenged you.

"You didn't say the magic words," he stated with a calm yet authoritative voice.

"Screw you," you replied, a mix of courage and defiance.

His smile widened, as if he enjoyed your defiant spirit. You could feel your own fear, but you also knew that deep down, Satoru found your strength and determination attractive. Despite your differences and constant clashes, there was something that mutually drew you to each other.

He didn't complain because deep down, he was delighted to leave everything behind and come to your rescue time and time again.

After exchanging glances filled with conflicting emotions, a tense silence took hold of the atmosphere. Satoru broke the silence with a playful smile.

"Don't you have something to say to me?" he asked mischievously, expecting you to acknowledge his help.

You initially refused, feeling stubborn pride burning within you. However, deep down, you knew that Satoru had once again come to your rescue. With a resigned sigh, you finally muttered the words begrudgingly.

"Thanks, I guess," you admitted, unwilling to fully show your gratitude.

Satoru's smile softened, and he looked at you with a warm gleam in his eyes. "Don't cry. Stand up and let's go. We both need rest," he said in his soft and reassuring voice.

You quickly wiped away the tears that had escaped without permission and nodded silently. Though you sometimes seemed like enemies, there was a special bond between you, a connection that transcended fights and disagreements. Together, you walked towards the exit of the abandoned building, leaving behind the darkness and danger.

That night, Satoru made the decision to stay in your room. They cuddled together in the comforting warmth of your bed, setting aside tensions and differences until the next morning. Silence filled the room, calm and serene, as they drifted off into a restful sleep.

Satoru was aware that day by day, he managed to soften your defenses and melt your heart, just as you did with him. Before surrendering to sleep, he sighed and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, embracing you with the same intensity as you embraced him.

Yep, tomorrow would definitely be another day.

©asttrogirl│don't copy or translate

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #jujutsu headcanons #gojo satoru #gojo saturo x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[dabislittlemouse]

𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 part 2 ( read part 1)

“Your behaviour has been strange, dear. Is everything okay?”

The sweet voice of your grandmother caught your attention. She looked at you with tenderness and worry in her eyes, her smile ever so sweet as she approached you and brought your cookies. You gulped down, biting your lip nervously, but still managing to smile back.

Not sure if it would be a great idea to tell her, maybe she won’t believe you. Maybe it was all in your head.

She could feel you tensing, so she sat next to you

“I saw something..” you said. “I don’t know if I imagined things, or if darkness was playing tricks on me. But I heard my friend out there yesterday, deep in the woods, calling my name. I went after the voice. When I got closer I saw someone- or something. Its eyes were glowing blue and-"

Your grandma shushed you. Her face had gone pale, her eyes wide in fear. Immediately she stood up, closing the windows in your room, along with the curtains. The sun had set, night was coming again.

“Grandma you’re scaring me..” you whispered as your heart started racing.

“Listen to me honey” she sat back down, looking dead serious in your eyes. “Whatever you saw, forget it. It is bad enough that you acknowledged it, now do not think or speak about it ever again. At least not outloud”

“But what is it? What did I see?” you whispered.

She let out a sigh, wiping her mouth. “You saw D- I shall not mention his name, but he is one of the many demons lurking around forests at night. I still have flashbacks when I was a young girl.. I remember him calling my name, mimicking my mother’s voice. I did not go after the voice, knowing too well my mother was at work. I pretended to not notice the glowing blue eyes staring through the trees. But my sister did. I warned her to not go, it was already dark outside but she did not listen, heading to the forest with a flashlight on”

You listened, paying close attention to her next words.

“I never saw my sister after that night. Ever again. She never came back home”

Your blood went cold at her last sentence. It was the same glowing blue eyes, the same tactic to lure them in.

“I never thought he would appear again after such a long time. I went to the forest by myself after my sister’s disappearance, angry and frustrated. I wanted her back, I kept calling out in the night, but the demon never made himself known again. Those eyes never appeared again at night, but they never left my memory. They haunted me forever”

“S-so you think it’s him? Why would he appear now?” you stuttered.

“It’s best we never find out darling” she said. “Please be careful, do not acknowledge him ever again. Return back to your town if you must. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you”

You shook your head. Fear settled deep in your gut, but you tried to play it cool and smile. “Got it. Nothing’s gonna happen to me grandma, I promise. Now that I know the risk, I won’t let him or anything else out there get me. I just arrived here anyway, I don’t want anything to ruin my little vacation. Nothing’s gonna stop me from spending time with you”

You both hugged each other tightly, feeling a bit relieved now that you told your creepy experience to someone.

The thing outside of your window had heard everything.

#B.writes #dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #x reader #horror story

[lilyevanstan1325]

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 12

The sun slowly lowers behind the hills, painting the sky in shades of gold and orange.

After Rick's heartbreaking words for Amy, I took refuge in a corner of the farm, away from curious eyes and the dangers that lurk outside.

My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, and the setting sun only seems to amplify them.

Amy's death.

The memory of the young girl, with her wide eyes and pale face, haunts me.

She has seen too much, she has experienced too little.

I continually wonder what could have happened, what brought that walker so close to all of us.

And now I only feel fear, a fear that tightens my heart.

The fear of protecting.

It's a mixed feeling.

On one hand, I want to keep the people I love safe, but on the other, I know that every protective gesture carries a risk.

Amy's death is proof of this.

We tried to protect ourselves, all of us, relentlessly.

Nevertheless.

And then there's him in my thoughts.

Always.

As much as I want to ignore it, he is there.

Negan.

The man I loved and hated equally.

Before the apocalypse, he had been a different man.

He was good, sweet.

Now, he isn't anymore.

His soul has become darker, wilder.

I often wonder if deep down in his heart he is still him, if that sweet and altruistic man still exists, or if the horror of the world has simply transformed him.

Or maybe it transformed us both.

And then there was the pain.

The pain is always there.

The pain is linked to his name.

The pain is linked to his scent.

The pain is linked to his raspy voice.

The pain of having to run away from him, leaving him behind.

I had hoped that time and distance would dull that pain, but every night when I close my eyes, I still feel it.

I hear his voice.

I feel his caresses.

I still feel my love for him.

Every time it's like a fucking knife in my heart.

I hug my knees to my chest, looking blankly at the foliage of the trees moved by the wind, I watch the sun disappear completely behind the hills.

I know I still have a lot to face, but right now, I just want to let go of sadness and nostalgia.

The world has changed, and I with it.

I don't know if it's good or bad but I know I'm no longer the person I was.

Everything has changed in me, even the way I perceive the world.

I can no longer see its beauty.

Now every corner is covered in dark shadows, shadows that hide threats.

Nothing seems purer to me.

I would just like to go back and see the beauty.

That's all I ask.

Light footsteps behind me distract me from my thoughts.

I look over my shoulder and with his head down I see Carl come towards me.

“Hey, buddy.What's up?What are you doing, wandering around by yourself?It's starting to get dark, it's not safe” I ask trying to hide the tremor in my voice.

I lower my legs, crossing them and tapping my hand on the ground next to me, I invite the boy to keep me company.

Carl sits next to me and we are silent for a few minutes.

Small points of light begin to appear in the sky.

Another night in this broken world.

Carl sighs as he hugs his knees to his chest.

I give him a slight shove trying to catch his gaze with mine.

“Hey!You know you can talk to me” I whisper, focusing my attention on his small sad face.

I saw how he cried during Amy's funeral, he must be really upset.

His young mind, still too immature, is finding itself fighting against demons bigger than him.

No human being, let alone a child, should ever find themselves entangled in this shit.

“If… if I told you a secret could you promise not to tell my parents?”

Instinctively I would like to accept his plea but I know I can't.

His eyes, blue as the sea, focus on mine and he already knows that I won't be able to keep this promise.

The boy immediately lowers his gaze.

I dig in my mind looking for the most suitable words.

I raise my hand, bringing it to his head and taking off his father's hat.

I turning it between my fingers for a few seconds and then placing it on my head.

Carl looks at me and lets out a soft laugh.

I smile with him.

“I can't promise you but I can promise I'll help you, okay?”

My compromise seems to convince him.

He puts his hand in his pocket and after a few moments he takes out a gun which he hands to me with a trembling hand.

“I took it from Daryl's motorcycle.If he found out I took it, he'll kill me”

I turn the gun in my hands, returning my gaze to the boy.

“What are you doing with this?” I ask him trying to keep a calm tone.

I don't want to scare him or even scold him.

I just want to understand why he did it.

His behavior has been strange lately.

I saw very little of the sweet and kind little boy I was told about.

Instead, I saw a boy incite his father to kill another human being.

A boy who stole a gun for what reason only God knows.

“Amy” he whispers looking straight ahead, “It's my fault that she died”

For a moment I don't know what to answer.

Thousands of thoughts and scenarios chase each other in my mind but none of them guide me towards a plausible solution.

“Carl” I murmur, squeezing his shoulder with my hand, “Why would you say that, buddy.She got bit by a walker.Why you say…”

“I saw that walker” he interrupts me.

His eyes clouded by tears move from his hands towards the sky.

A single tear rolls down his face.

My heart breaks at his pain.

“I was gonna shoot it.It was stuck in the mud.I was…I was throwing rocks at it and stuff ” the boy sniffs, his eyes still turned to the sky, “But I was gonna do it…shoot it right in the head.And it…it got free, came after me and…I ran away” Carl sobs.

A little sob that rumbles in my head like thunder.

I wrap my arm around his slender shoulders, pressing my lips to the top of his head.

“If I had killed it, Amy would still be here” he adds, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

I drop the gun onto the grass next to me so I can hold this little man against my chest.

His tears wet my shirt but I couldn't care less.

Now my priority is his well-being.

“Carl, stop that.Please.This ain't your fault, okay?”

His arms close delicately around my hips while his back shakes with small jolts.

My right hand presses the back of his neck while the other slides delicately along his back, small caresses in an attempt to soothe his pain.

I let him vent everything he's been holding painfully inside trying to make him understand that I'm here for him.

I move away from the hug just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

I hold his face between my hands and with the tips of my thumbs I dry the tears that continue to flow relentlessly from his sweet red eyes.

“Listen to me Carl.As long as I'm around, I always protect you.Me, your father, your mother and everyone else will always protect you.What happened is not your fault.It could have happened to anyone and I swear to you, I swear to God, that I would have given my soul to be in your place, to not see you like this now”

His lower lip trembles and new tears slide down his face, still so young and innocent.

I stand up offering him a hand inviting him to stand up too.

He gets up hesitantly.

His eyes full of remorse and fear watch me as I bend down to pick up Daryl's gun and tuck it into the waistband of my jeans.

“I'll take care of this” I reassure him, giving him back his father's hat, “Don't worry about Daryl, I promise he won't tell you anything”

Carl smiles shyly but his smile fades as soon as he notices my serious look.

“And...I won't say anything to your mom but I will talk to Rick.Maybe I could convince him to teach you how to use it so that you can protect yourself if you were in danger and none of us were there with you”

At my words Carl takes a few steps back.

He shakes his head violently from side to side.

“I will never touch a gun again”

“You know this is not possible.As much as we all want to, we can't do it.We can't hide forever, Carl.We have to fight.You have to learn to fight.The world has changed and if we don't change with it...”

But the boy seems determined and, shaking his head again, he turns his back on me and walks away, leaving me perplexed.

I don't even try to stop him.

At this moment a storm beyond my understanding is stirring in his heart and it is not up to me to help him so with a heart full of worries I go in search of Rick.

Along my way, however, I spot Daryl.

He is sitting in front of a small fire, near what has now become our tent, while he smokes a cigarette.

I approach coming up behind him, surprised that he didn't hear me.

His hunter's hearing is always alert but at this moment his mind seems not to be there.

The surprise in my eyes is replaced by horror as I see him press the flaming tip of his cigarette into the flesh of his hand.

A barely audible hiss escapes his lips.

My eyes immediately fill with tears as my hand in a completely automatic gesture moves up my thigh, caressing the flesh through the hard fabric of my jeans.

I know what he's doing.

I know what he's feeling.

With extreme delicacy I place a hand on his shoulder.

The archer flinches violently.

The now consumed cigarette slips from his fingers.

Without speaking I stand in front of him and offer him my hand.

The man observes it for a few moments then his eyes lift up to find mine only for a moment then his gaze shift to the fire and in their reflection I can read the shame he feels at having been caught in a moment of weakness.

I try to impress in my gaze all the tenderness and all the understanding that I can find in my torn heart.

Daryl looks up again.

“I don't wan’ yer pity” he spits between his teeth.

I smile sadly.

It's not my pity I'm offering him and I want him to understand that.

“Take my hand, big boy” I murmur softly.

The tremble in my voice makes him look at my hand that is still outstretched and motionless in front of him.

After moments in which he doesn't stop studying my gaze he grabs my hand and lets himself be dragged away from the fire.

In the silence of the evening I drag him towards the tent, inviting him with my gaze to enter.

“Sit down, please”

The man obeys me as if in this moment he was devoid of any will.

Trusting me blindly.

And this does nothing but fill my heart with a sweet, almost forgotten feeling.

Trying to tame the nervousness that grips my guts, I grab the lamp and lit it on, positioning it near my feet so that it can illuminate my figure well.

I feel sweat beading on my forehead and with trembling hands I reach for the button on my jeans, open it and pull down the zip.

Daryl looks at me with panic in his eyes.

His pupils move quickly from one side of the tent to the other as he slides away from me, pressing his back against the wall of the tent behind him.

I sigh deeply, gathering all the courage I have and with a fluid and decisive movement I lower my jeans to my ankles.

The archer, taken aback by my gesture, turns his head to the side, bringing a hand in front of his face.

I can see the blush spreading from his neck.

“Wha’ the hell are ya doing, woman?” he hisses through his teeth.

His tense shoulders tell me that the man is very uncomfortable but that can't stop me.

It can't stop me.

He must know.

He has to understand that I can understand him.

That I know what he was doing and why.

“Daryl” I call him softly, “Please look at me”

My plea veiled with barely held back tears makes him move his large hand from his face.

His embarrassed cheeks are a stab to my heart.

Behind his tough exterior there is a shy man full of insecurities.

Slowly the archer's eyes reopen and with equally exhausting slowness they rest on my face.

“Look at me” I repeat, lowering my hand towards my thighs.

The tip of my finger instantly feels the unevenness of the skin beneath it sending a jolt of pain to my heart.

The memory is alive again.

His gaze follows my hand and the moment his eyes fall on my bare legs his expression changes.

Now he knows.

And I have never felt so naked in my life.

But this isn't physical nudity…

Daryl is seeing my soul.

My true soul.

He is seeing a part of me that no one knows.

Nobody.

His uncertain and cautious hand rests on my thigh.

His calloused fingers move feather-light over the old scars.

Lots of little cuts that adorn my skin like stars adorn the night sky.

I stare at the tent ceiling unable to hold his gaze as the words float painfully from my lips.

“I had no other way to vent my pain.I didn't want others to see my pain.This was the only part of my body that no one could ever see”

When the nights at the Sanctuary seemed endless and the pain was too excruciating, it seemed like the only possible solution.

Sitting on my bed, with my father's knife in my hands, I cut into the flesh of my thighs.

Every cut eased the pressure on my heart.

Every cut expanded my lungs as I felt suffocated.

Every cut made me feel alive.

Every cut silenced the voices screaming in my head.

The man's strong hands grip the flesh behind my thighs, just under the curve of my ass, his face buried between them.

But as intimate as it may seem, there is nothing sexual in his gesture.

Only sweetness and pain.

His lips touch every little scar starting from my knee to my right hip, near the elastic of my underwear.

I dig my hands into his hair, in that portion of skin the contact of his lips makes me hiss in pain.

The skin is still red there.

“This is the last one.I did it after I have killed that man down town” I admit, full of shame.

It had been a while since the last time.

But the desperation for my action brought me back to falling into my old and unhealthy habits.

Daryl grabs my jeans and gently lifts them up by buttoning them and zipping them up, then standing up he crushes me in his arms.

I bury my face in his chest cradling myself in his strong grip.

His scent soothing my soul.

“I know what you're feeling.I won't pretend to believe that thanks to me you won't do it again...but...but...I want you to know that I'm here with you.I'm here for you.I always have your back, big boy”

He hugs me even more forcefully.

His face is pressed against my neck, my hair is a dark curtain in which he hides his gaze which I know for a fact is as anguished as mine the moment I saw that cigarette sizzle against the flesh of his hand.

With a disarming delicacy his hands wrap themselves in a strong but gentle grip around my cheeks and immediately my lips are on his.

I don't know if it's the right thing to do but I know for a fact that words would be superfluous at this moment.

Gently we slide towards the ground.

His lips kiss every part of my face.

Reserving reverential attention to my lips.

His tongue slides velvety between my lips, colliding with mine, intertwining in a sensual dance, which smells of tobacco, which in its silence keeps solemn promises.

I am here.

You are here.

I'm your.

I'm yours.

Together we can.

My hands move to the back of his neck, scratching his skin.

His bold fingers grip the flesh of my hips, inviting me, with the weight of his powerful body, to lie beneath him.

In its will, my legs widen, allowing his narrow and sensual hips to find space between them and then wrap around his waist, pressing my ankles against his buttocks and involuntarily pushing him towards my pulsating core.

The contact of his bulge against my most sensitive part makes me pant in ecstasy and the man full of new audacity pushes his hips against mine again, earning another obscene moan from me.

His warm, sinful lips slide towards my collarbone as he tries to move the fabric covering my breasts with his hungry teeth.

His greed makes me chuckle and, helping him in his intent, I grab the hem of my shirt, pulling it off my head, remaining in front of his eyes with only a simple black bra.

The worn fabric makes me blush thinking about how I am not such a sensual sight in the end but his words erase all my worries.

“So beautiful, ’ma sunshine” burying his face in the hollow between my breasts, his words sound almost like a growl.

He peppers my skin with sloppy kisses while his fingers creep under my back, arched with pleasure, searching for the hook of my bra.

As soon as he finds it he tugs on it trying to unhook it and when he succeeds a guttural sound scrapes his throat making me roll my eyes in ecstasy.

Always with the help of his teeth he lowers one strap and then the other without ever stopping kissing every new corner of exposed skin.

With a trembling hand, between anxiety and pleasure, I grab the bra and throw it behind me.

The look of wonder in Daryl's eyes sets me on fire.

And I swear I could cum here and now just because of the way his gaze burns on my skin.

I lift my hips looking for friction that will give me relief, trembling at the moment of the contact.

He envelops a breast in his large rough hand, massaging it delicately while he welcomes the turgid nipple between his wet and lustful lips.

His tongue swirls around it sending jolts of pure pleasure through every nerve endings in my body.

The moans rolling from my lips are now uncontrollable.

Unstoppable.

My hands move aimlessly as they wander along his broad back, curious fingers exploring unfamiliar skin that slowly find their way beneath the shirt that envelops that solid yet supple body.

Insecure but eager, I push the vest off his shoulders which slowly sags over my shirt which lies next to us.

But I feel like it's still not enough.

I want to feel the sensation of my skin against his.

With inexperienced fingers I undo the first button which slips unhindered from his buttonhole.

And I continue until my fingers graze the metal of his buckle's belt.

Daryl's mouth releases my nipple with a loud, wet pop, a long string of saliva stretching until it slides down his chin.

Raising my shoulders I push my face towards him, licking his neck, starting from the Adam's apple that bobs up and down as I pass, until I reach his chin, collecting the saliva that lies on it with a moan of sweet appreciation.

Daryl's lips capture mine again in a panting, lust-filled kiss.

Stroking the skin of his neck I can feel every vein under my fingers, veins where the blood pumps furiously.

My hands continue their way until they reach his shoulders.

When I try to slide his shirt along them the man stiffens, breaking the kiss.

His pupils are so dilated with pleasure that they almost completely swallow the blue but in all that chaos I can sense his panic.

“Hey” I whisper bringing my hands to his face again, gently caressing his tense features, “We can stop whenever you want” I whisper trying to regulate my breathing.

The archer seems conflicted.

In his eyes, in the hard lines of his jaw, something stirs.

“No.No.I just…” he murmurs almost embarrassed, “I want to take it” he whispers, shrugging his shoulders and putting the shirt back to cover them.

His request, which sounds like a small plea, shocks me but I accept it knowing that I could never do anything that could embarrass him.

I want Daryl to feel comfortable with me and I would never force him to do anything that would disturb his precarious balance.

“Alright.That's ok, babe” I smile sweetly kissing his forehead as I close a couple of buttons on his shirt covering his body.

Daryl nods once and then he kisses me again.

This time his lips are more delicate.

After exploring every cavity of my mouth he continues his way along the line of my jaw, moving down towards my neck and sucking forcefully on the delicate skin behind my ear.

“Daryl” I gasp, burying my hands in his hair.

In response he continues his sensual descent, kissing the incandescent skin of my body, in a long trail of lust that reaches my navel with unnerving slowness.

One last delicate kiss and then his eyes are back in mine, silently asking me for permission to go further.

And I cannot deny him that permission.

I nod, sinking my teeth into my bottom lip and lifting my hips to facilitate his movements.

Daryl, with a concentrated look, unbutton my jeans, sliding them down my legs.

His lips touch every millimeter of exposed skin.

His gestures are shy, full of exasperating sweetness.

I clumsily kick off my boots so he can completely slide off the jeans.

My chest rises and falls furiously as Daryl remains kneeling by my feet, completely still, staring at me.

I feel like my heart might explode in my chest.

The man I have in front of my eyes seems like a god painted by the most skilled of artists.

The dim light of the lamp creates seductive shadows on his face.

A few small scars cross it but my gaze is drawn inexorably towards the bulge in his pants.

His shaft presses angrily against the fabric of his jeans and my mouth salivates at the thought of having it inside me.

To be able to feel him.

Daryl reaching down grabs my ankle, lifting it and bringing it to his lips, leaving a delicate kiss on it.

His lips greedily travel up the calf until they reach the thigh where he dedicates all his attention to kissing every single scar.

His tongue explores everything that can be explored.

He lowers himself onto my body again, accompanying my leg with his hand and wrapping it around his hips.

And I let myself be manhandled.

His elbows rest on either side of my face as he nuzzles the tip of his nose against mine and then kisses my forehead.

“I have no idea wha’ the hell I'm doing, sunshine” he whispers, his embarrassed eyes in mine.

His hands gently move a few strands of hair away from my face.

And despite the excitement of the moment I can't help but smile sweetly at the man in front of me.

A man so strong and brave yet so lost.

“You're perfect, Daryl” I whisper, kissing him again.

With much more audacity I grab one of his hands, kissing the tip of each fingertips and then capture two of them between my lips, swirling my tongue around them.

He moans, a hollow, guttural sound rising from deep in his chest, his hips pressing into me again.

A shiver shakes him.

Now, free from my jeans, the friction of his shaft on my fold, still covered by the now soaked fabric of my panties is even more real.

Through his jeans I can perceive all of him…

And damn!

He looks so big.

With my eyes and mind in ecstasy I release his fingers from my lips and decisively guide his hand lower and lower, beyond the hem of my panties.

His hand is so warm...and so big that his palm can wrap my entire mound.

His digit slides along my wet fold and then it splits me open wetting in my arousals.

I cry out his name.

He grunts and slowly sinks his finger into me.

Moving slowly, almost fearfully, his thumb finds my clit and begins to caress it with small circular movements.

In response my hips lift to meet his too gentle movements, seeking something more.

Daryl grunts again, taking hold of my mouth and kissing me like his life depends on it.

“More, babe.Please more” I whine against his lips, rocking my hips.

The archer adds another finger, digging them both to the knuckles.

This time with more force.

His thumb moves more firmly against my little bundle of nerves, making me see little stars of white light behind my closed eyelids.

Daryl buries his face in the crook of my neck, almost roaring as his fingers pound into me forcefully, curving up and touching that magical spongy spot that can make my toes curl.

The leg around his waist tightens its grip, pressing the heel forcefully against his lower back while the other, which until a few seconds ago was resting on the hard ground, now lifts slightly in a spasm of pleasure.

I plant the sole of my foot on the ground to find a foothold to meet the almost furious push of the man's fingers which now work with precision and lust.

My fingers wrap around the wild, messy strands of his hair, pulling them forcefully from the root, his teeth sinking into the delicate skin of my neck.

Daryl is marking my skin mercilessly and the thought of the others seeing how much I belong to him pushes me even further towards the edge.

I try to stifle the scream of pleasure that erupts from my lips by burying my face in his hair.

“Please don't stop.Please.Right there, Daryl”

He lifts up, his stormy gaze passes along my face now distorted by pleasure, then moving to my breasts which continue to bounce with each thrust of his fingers and then finally stopping on my pussy.

His dilated pupils move quickly following the movement of his hand, watching as his fingers disappear inside me with each thrust, stealing one moan at a time until my throat is parched.

A pleasant sensation spreads in my lower abdomen, clouding all my logical thoughts.

My eyes roll inside my skull, closing again in a fog of pure enjoyment.

“Look at me, sunshine”

In that thick fog his voice brings me back to the surface and my eyes slowly open on his powerful figure.

The muscles of his abdomen contract as if spasms of pleasure were tearing at his very body.

His biceps swell with every movement as he furiously pumps his fingers into me.

A spark shines in his gaze and after a few moments his broad shoulders lower towards my core.

A light-as-air hand moves my panties to the side and the rustic, calloused touch of his thumb on my clit is replaced by something warmer.

More delicate.

His tongue.

The scream that rolls off my lips is impossible to stop.

“Oh fuck, babe” I moan loudly, digging my fingers into the sleeping bag beneath my body.

The archer's tongue moves divinely as if this man had done nothing else all his life.

Delicate and moist caresses that take me over the edge.

His velvety muscle moves on my clit as if he were writing his name adorning it with lustful squiggles.

And suddenly it's all too much.

His face buried between my thighs.

His fingers moving mercilessly inside me, pushing and arching, splitting me open.

Daryl eats me out like I'm the last meal of his life.

He is hungry.

Feral.

Hot, fucking hot.

My nails digging into the back of his neck pushing his face against my cunt, his skull crushed between the sweaty flesh of my thighs.

“Ya taste so fuckin’ good, sunshine”

His grunt reverberates through my body, plunging me into the abyss of pleasure.

A white heat explodes before my eyes...and the most overwhelming orgasm of my life envelops my body making me moan loudly, so loudly that Daryl lifts himself from the center of my thighs to calm my moans with his own lips.

His tongue deep in my mouth, making me savor my own pleasure, thus prolonging the last spasms of my climax and accompanying my trembling body back to reality.

Still panting and shocked, I find the strength to reopen my eyes, observing the statuesque body of the archer rise from his position only to lie down on my sweaty body.

His lips rest lightly on my breast, moving up my neck and then taking possession of my lips again.

I can feel his excitement.

A single thought echoes in my mind.

It's not enough, I want more.

The kiss becomes more and more heated.

My hands slide down his sides and then grip the buckle of his belt tightly.

“I need you” I pant against his jugular.

He groans in my hear, giving me goosebumps.

His hands reach mine, helping me to free him from the last obstacle that now separates our bodies.

Daryl puts the weight of his body on his arm so he can use his free hand to take off his jeans completely and I take the opportunity to take off my panties.

His lips find my neck, sucking on the skin and leaving yet another hickey.

The only sound in the tent is our strangled breathing.

Another moan slips from my lips as the archer positions his now naked body on top of mine.

His thick cock caresses my inner thighs and my body vibrates in anticipation.

Daryl hums against my skin.

I wrap my legs in a chokehold around his waist, my hands gripping his back finding purchase in his shirt.

I crush it between my fingers as yet another plea rolls from my lips.

“I want you, Daryl.I need you” I cry, my body shaking with pleasure.

He lets one arm slide under my head, like a pillow, while the other slides under my back, lifting me slightly.

Now the tip of his cock touches my labia and his hips slowly push towards mine.

Inches after inches his fat cock slips inside my cunt, the stretching is painfully pleasurable.

I moan, closing my eyes and pushing my head back against his hand.

He is so big I can feel my walls molding around him.

His breathing intensifies as he pushes towards me and when he bottoms out his body lowers, lying completely on mine.

I spread my legs even further to make room for him, the pain between them is palpable but the desire I have for this man manages to make me concentrate on other feelings.

The feeling of being split open by the man I love erases any pain, any discomfort.

The feeling of his heat on my bare skin.

The feeling of his warm breath on my neck.

Feeling him immersed in my body, fused together, makes my heartbeat faster between my legs.

Daryl remains still, his face buried in my neck and his shaky breath crashing against my ear.

I push my hips forward eager for him to start moving but Daryl remains still.

He seems almost paralyzed.

His back tense, the muscles in his arms contracted tightly.

Instantly all the neurons in my brain go on alert trying to figure out what's wrong.

The man's breathing becomes increasingly heavier while small spasms shake his back.

“Daryl?Everything is fine?" I breathe close to his ear.

In response he nods his head but continues to remain perfectly still.

I squirm beneath him, trying as hard as I can to catch his gaze but immediately after the hand that wraps around my back squeezes my flesh tightly.

Almost painfully.

“Could ya…could ya please stay still?” he exhales between clenched teeth.

Immediately my body freezes, my mind working quickly to make sense of his request.

“What…”

“’M fuckin’ trying to not cum like a fuckin’ teen” he interrupts me, lifting his head and pointing his wonderful blue eyes into mine.

His wild and disheveled hair, from how many times I've run my hands through it, falls messy and disheveled onto his face.

And I know I shouldn't, that I might offend him, but the laughter ringing in my chest leaves my lips before I can do anything to stop it.

My legs slip from his waist and wrap around his muscular thighs.

And no matter how hard Daryl tries to sulk, I see a little of that worry slipping from his eyes as one corner of his lips lifts, giving me that little amused grin that can make my heart stop.

With our bodies still intertwined and his masculinity buried in my body we find ourselves laughing.

Daryl brings both arms to the sides of my head, leaning on his elbows so his hands are free to caress my face.

My arms remain wrapped around his neck, my fingertips lazily stroking the hair that brushes the back of his neck.

And it is at this moment, in this very moment that everything makes sense.

The pain.

The fear.

The tears.

In the enveloping warmth of his embrace I feel the world slow down.

My hands tightening around my most precious treasure, every inch of skin against skin is a step towards a better life.

A life with fewer fears but many more hopes.

There is no need for words, my heart in sync with his speaks an older and deeper language.

It's as if time stands still, and all that matters is this moment.

My mind free from worries.

The outside world and its problems vanish.

He is my refuge, the safe harbor in which I can anchor myself.

The safe harbor that I am sure will protect me from every storm.

The peace I feel is like the silence of a windless night.

There are no storms, only calm and fears dissolve, and breathing becomes regular.

He is my shield against the chaos of the world out there.

The protection he offers me is like an impassable wall.

There is nothing that can hurt me while I am in his arms.

He is my warrior, ready to defend me from any threat.

He was built for this world.

And the joy?

Oh man, the joy.

It's like a love song in my chest.

Every heartbeat is a melody, and he is the only one who can play it.

I know this is my place, my destiny.

At this moment everything is perfect.

So, without the need for words, he holds me close to him.

And in his embrace, I find everything I have always looked for...deep love, without boundaries, without end.

The love that now shines in my eyes and presses against my lips, the words prisoner in my head...words too mature for a love that is still so immature.

Words too strong for a man still too weak for this too strong, devastating feeling of mine.

Deafening words that scream in my head, words that I swallow and put them in the depths of my soul.

Words that perhaps will never see the light of day but those words will always be intrinsic in my every gesture, in every caress, in every kiss.

In every embrace.

“That's ok, big boy.Take your time” I whisper against his lips curved in a sweet smile.

Smile that I treasure.

Smile that fills me with pride because I'm the only one who can have it.

A smile that I will jealously guard in my heart, imprinting it in the eyes of my memory.

Daryl kisses me and his hips move.

Slowly.

Gently.

By now the light in the lamp has stopped burning and the tent is shrouded in darkness, only the moonlight entering through the small cracks illuminates our bodies with silvery light.

The breaths intertwine, and my heart beats like the wings of a frightened bird.

There are just the two of us, two souls who have come closer with fear and desire.

His skin against mine is like silk, and every caress is a kiss without lips.

I feel the heat of his body burning against mine, his breathing deepening.

With each thrust the sweet melody of his breath crashes deliciously on my sweaty skin.

With each moan it is as if time expands, and each second lasts an eternity.

It's like opening a mysterious book, page after page.

I don't know what to expect, but I know that he is the key to that secret.

“Sunshine, ya're so tight.Shit!” breathes the archer with his lips pressed to my forehead.

As filthy as his words are, the sweetness and reverence with which he whispers them fills my heart with sweet devotion.

His every movement is a gift, every kiss a poem.

Daryl is capable of making me feel fragile and strong at the same time.

It's as if my body opened like a flower at the first ray of sunlight.

And he is the sun.

Confidence grows within me.

There are no more fears, just total abandonment.

When our bodies joined, it was like a love song.

There are no words, just moans and sighs.

A love song produced by our bodies.

I feel his heart beat in unison with mine through his chest pressed against mine.

Every thrust is a promise.

Daryl leverages his arms, lifting himself off my body.

His head falls forward, his chin almost touching his chest and a strangled moan between his parted lips.

Wonder pervades me.

It's like discovering a new universe.

Every sensation is amplified, every touch a miracle.

I close my eyes, digging my fingers into the firm flesh of his ass and let myself be carried away, like a leaf drifting on a river.

The archer's thrusts intensify, the sound of skin against skin echoes in my ears along with the blood rushing furiously beneath the surface.

My body is filled with tension while a sweet knot in my stomach prepares to spring.

Groaning, I raise myself on my elbows to look at the point where our bodies join.

Daryl's big, veiny cock sinks forcefully as his fingers dig into the flesh, leaving their imprint.

A couple more thrusts and I cum so hard that the scream gets stuck in my throat making me drown in my own pleasure.

My walls clenching rhythmically around him, milking him and making him suffocate in his own moans.

The archer, face flushed and his breathing ragged, pulls out in one sweet motion and grabbing his cock he strokes it a couple of times and then he cums.

Hot white ropes land on my stomach and breasts.

I fall back onto the sleeping bag in a daze without being able to take my eyes off the man kneeling between my thighs.

His muscular chest rises and falls furiously while his eyes remain glued to my body, observing me as a proud painter would observe his latest canvas.

Without speaking he runs a hand over his face, wiping the sweat with the back of his hand and then hovering over me he grabs one of his t-shirts using it to clean me up.

His hand moves with care and precision and once finished he lies down next to me, caging me in his arms.

In the silence of the night his hand lazily caresses my back, each caress leaving a trail of shivers behind it.

“Are ya cold?” he asks in a whisper, placing his lips on my forehead.

“A little bit” I reply pressing myself against his chest, breathing in the spicy scent of his skin.

Daryl grabs one of his shirts, placing it over our still naked bodies.

With my mind finally light and emptied, for the first time in time immemorial, I feel complete.

It's as if the world has found its balance.

My world has found its balance.

I found Daryl.

“Ya good?”

“Yeah”

“Sure?”

“Daryl, stop!” I giggle, propping myself up on one elbow and meeting his gaze, “You were perfect.Everything was perfect”

My smile seems to reassure him.

His blue eyes are two pools of serenity.

I scratch at his chest with my nails playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“Anyway…I came here for another reason although I'm not complaining about how things went” I chuckle making him chuckle too.

“Oh, really?” he teases me by pinching my side and making me laugh.

I fall back onto my back turning my head to the side.

Daryl lifts his arms to cross them behind his head, his relaxed gaze locked on mine.

“I have something for you” so I say, I turn my back on him and sit down to rummage through the pile of my clothes.

“Here” I say handing him his gun.

At first his confused gaze wanders between my face and the gun held in my hands, only a moment of confusion after which the man realizes.

“’S ’ma gun?”

I nod.

He sits down and grabs the weapon, in the meantime I take the opportunity to put on one of his t-shirts.

“Why do ya have it?”

“Now you have to promise me one thing”

His eyebrows raise suspiciously.

“Why?” he asks sceptically.

“Just promise me”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’!” he huffs in exasperation even though his lips are curled upwards.

I grab his brief from the floor and hand them to him and after he puts them on I sit on his lap.

His arms wrap around my hips and I kiss the tip of his nose.

“Carl took it.He asked me to give it back to you because he is afraid of you.So you won't tell him anything, okay?”

Daryl watches me curiously, I can hear the gears turning quickly in his head.

“Why?”

I sigh worried about that little guy.

“He's confused.He's just a scared little boy who wishes he were a man”

“And that's why he stole ’ma gun?”

I shake my head worriedly thinking back to the discussion I had with Carl shortly before.

“He feels guilty.Carl saw the walker who killed Amy”

Just saying the poor girl's name makes my throat tighten.

Daryl tightens his grip around my body, waiting patiently for me to pull me back together so I can tell him what happened.

“He says he saw it stuck in the mud.He wanted to shoot it but it freed itself and he, scared, ran away.Now he believes it's all his fault and that if he had shot it Amy would still be alive”

It's not his fault but ultimately I can understand him.

I would have thought the same thing too.

I would feel responsible too.

And I feel somehow responsible for all these people.

I feel compelled to protect the people who welcomed me with arms wide open.

I feel compelled to protect them not only from the outside world but also from their own pain.

It's all a fucking vicious circle of regret and guilt.

“Hey, listen ta me, ’ma little sunshine” whispers the archer, gently caressing my bare thigh, “None of us are to blame.The world has changed and the only thing we can really do is stay together.Help each other.Defend ourselves.Nothin’ more.Wha’ happened to Amy was inevitable.We can't change things.Ya can't protect everyone, Summer”

I know.

I am aware that I cannot protect everyone and yet I feel obliged to do so.

I can't fix everything but that will never stop me from trying even if it hurts me.

I sigh heartbrokenly as I rest my head against his chest, the slow, steady beat of his heart ringing in my ear like the sweetest of melodies.

His lips graze the crown of my head.

“Ya're too good for this world, sunshine”

I smile against the fabric of his shirt.

“Do you really think that?”

“Damn sure!”

I look up in search of his eyes, in search of the pity but that's not what I find.

In his gaze there is only sweetness, respect.

I grab one of his hands in mine, studying every curve, every little mark.

“You know” I murmur in a whisper, “Despite everything I do, I feel weak.I just wish I was stronger.More brave”

Daryl lets me vent by carefully observing my hands which with devotion continue to caress and venerate his large one.

“Ya're not weak.Ya already know wha’ I think ’bout ya”

I nod shyly raising my gaze, looking at this wonderful man from under my eyelashes.

His gaze is clear, relaxed and sincere.

All his defenses are down.

All his feelings exposed to me.

A shiver runs down my spine as his hand slowly moves down until it rests on my bare ass.

This time a mischievous smile curves his lips.

“No panties?”

I laugh throwing my head back

“Don't get any strange ideas, big boy.I'm just passing through” I announce, getting up from his lap and starting to pick up all my clothes scattered on the floor.

The archer's gaze doesn't let go of me even for a moment as I try to get dressed and not keep thinking about what just happened.

I sit next to him putting my boots on.

“I need to find Rick.I have to talk to him about Carl.I don't...”

“’M not screwing around with ya.Ya know, righ’?”

His words take me by surprise as I lace up my boots.

When I look for his gaze I find him intently staring straight ahead while nervously chewing on the corner of his thumb.

It is a tender and poignant scene at the same time.

The weight of his past has made him so vulnerable and so scared.

My soft big boy.

Life has not been kind to him, painful memories and invisible scars.

A pure heart that has learned to fear love.

A scared heart that is afraid to open up, to confide, to let someone enter his shattered world.

It's as if his heart were a wounded bird, unable to fly towards love.

His face is marked by the weight of a painful past, his eyes as deep as abysses hide secrets that only the night wind knows.

Words will never be enough so I make my decision.

I smile, even though he can't see me, and slowly get rid of my clothes again, the rustle of my clothes catches his attention and his eyes are finally on me again.

Soft and confused.

Left alone with his t-shirt on, I sit back on his lap, wrapping around his broad chest and burying my face in the crook of his neck.

His heart raging against mine, beating in unison.

“Do you know what?Rick can wait” I breathe against his throat, a light kiss where his Adam's apple bobs up and down.

“Here with you is where I want to be” I whisper, hugging him, “There is no other place in the world where I want to be”

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@celtic-crossbow @deansapplepie @daryldixmedown @duckybird101 @thebadbatch2022 @winterassassin1804

#daryl #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl smut #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd family #we are the walking dead #built for this world #normanreedus #norman reedus #norman reedus smut #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction recommendation

[blog-name-idk]

Perfect

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Fem Reader

Genre: nonIdol!AU, yandere, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT

Summary: "I've wanted you for so long," Jin whispers, mouth only a hair away from your own. You can't move, can't look away, helpless against this spell he's weaving around you. You can almost believe this is a sweet, romantic little moment. If only it was that simple. "And you're finally mine."

Word Count: 7,251

Warnings: Smut, NON CON, PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Kidnapping, restraints, forced orgasms, R word.

AN: I was never going to post this on Tumblr for obvious reasons but... well, here it is lmfao. Seriously I have no excuses, this is just me being depraved. Please DO NOT READ if any of the themes above are not your thing.

~~~~~

You wake up to golden sunlight streaming across your face, in a plush bed that is decidedly not your own. Groggy and disoriented, you sit up and look around a luxurious bedroom with heavy, expensive looking furniture. The bed itself is one of those fancy four-posters you've only seen in movies, with a princess style canopy and silk sheets.

As you come to your senses, you note with relief that you're still wearing your clothes from yesterday. Then you frown. Yesterday? Yesterday was your first date with the guy of your dreams, and everything was perfect, until… what had happened, exactly?

"Hey sleepyhead, you're finally awake."

Your heart flutters at the familiar voice, and you look to see Kim Seokjin in the doorway, beautiful and broad and looking positively adorable in gray sweatpants and a plain white tee. He's giving you a soft look that makes you both giddy and nauseous, and you feel a sudden stab of panic at your lack of memory. Did you drink too much and black out? Did you do anything embarrassing?

Wait, no. You definitely didn't have more than a couple glasses of the wine Jin insisted on getting a bottle of. So why do you feel so hungover?

"Um… what happened?" you asked timidly. Seokjin smiles, sweet and gentle, and yet something about it makes your chest prickle with unease.

"I drugged you, silly" he responds so matter-of-factly you find yourself laughing at his joke. It slowly dies away when you realize he hasn't joined you in your mirth, and that's when you finally realize there is a leather cuff around your ankle.

"J-Jin, what the fuck is this," you say with a laugh much weaker than the one before. "This isn't funny."

Seokjin gives you another sweet smile and walks into the room to sit on the bed next to you, and you resist the urge to shy away. This is just some weird prank, right? It has to be.

"I just wanted to be safe," he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and drawing you close to place a kiss on your temple. You stiffen in surprise and discomfort, stomach beginning to roil with a different kind of anxiety. You give an experimental tug at the rope connecting your leg to the bedpost, and it holds firm, much to your dismay. This is the least funny joke you have ever been subject to.

"Jin, please tell me what the hell is going on," you plead as your breath comes in shorter and shorter gasps. You yank harder, and the rattle of the chain taunts you with its cold, metallic laughter. No. No, no, no.

"You just looked so beautiful last night, I couldn't let you go," Jin murmurs, nuzzling his nose into your hair as you tug futilely at your ankle.

You freeze, feeling your stomach churn and bile rise in your throat. This can't be real. Maybe it's a weird dream your subconscious came up with because you've been fantasizing about this man too much.

To test your theory - and because perhaps you're a little more panicked than you realize - you slap yourself in the face as hard as you can. Your head rings like the alarm bell you're desperately hoping to hear, but when your vision clears, Jin is still there, cupping your face with gentle hands and looking at you with a concerned look in his warm, gorgeous chocolate eyes.

"Baby? Is everything okay? Why did you do that?" he asks frantically, thumb brushing delicately over the patch of now very tender skin on your cheek. It burns under his touch, the heat at complete odds with the icy daggers of realization that pierce your chest.

Oh no. This isn't a dream.

Suddenly the insanity and gravity of your predicament hits you, and dread and nausea surge through you in equal measure. You open your mouth to respond, but all that spews out is last night's dinner, all over Jin's crisp shirt and the bed.

"Fuck," you groan, both at the way your stomach is still roiling, and the situation at hand. Instead of reacting in anger or chagrin, Jin rubs your back soothingly, and you're torn between jerking away and accepting the proffered comfort. Then he clambers off the bed and takes his soiled shirt off.

"What are you doing?" you ask in trepidation, trying not to eye the sun-kissed skin on display. You are not going to admire the physique of someone who fucking drugged and chained you to a bed. You're better than that.

"I don't want to get you dirty," Jin replies simply, before unlocking your cuff and scooping you in his arms as if you're a baby lamb. You give a feeble protest, but you're too weak and disoriented to take advantage of your newfound freedom. By the time your head stops spinning, he's brought you into a bathroom that's frankly absurd.

A white marble counter lines one wall, while the other is taken up by a gorgeous mosaic shower and gigantic jacuzzi tub that looks big enough to belong in a bath house. The sheer ridiculousness of it is almost enough to snap you out of your stupor.

"Do you still feel sick? Maybe I gave you too much."

"Huh?" you mumble dazedly, knowing you should scream, fight, anything. Instead all you do is lay in his arms, wondering how you can feel so cold when your heart is pounding so fast.

"I've never done this before," Jin says with a shy smile and pink ears that would have been cute if he wasn't talking about drugging a human being. He gently sets you on your feet, smiling when you automatically set a hand on his shoulder to steady your trembling legs. He's solid and warm under your clammy hand, and you want to hate him for it.

"I should hope not," you respond, though you're suddenly so exhausted that it comes out without the bite you intended. Jin seems to take it as a joke, because he chuckles and brushes some hair out of your sweaty face.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I only have eyes for you."

You close your eyes and swallow repeatedly to force down another wave of nausea at the sickly adoration in his voice, and he seems to misread it as an invitation to brush his plump, silky lips against your own. You shy away from the petal soft contact, thinking of the first excuse that comes to mind.

"I - I just threw up," you mutter, looking down so he can't see the fear in your eyes. Jin's fingers come under your chin to tilt your face up, and you hate yourself for the way your cheeks heat under his tender gaze.

"Your lips are sweet enough to make up for it," he says with a charming grin that almost makes you forget your current circumstances. Thankfully, he leaves it at that and proceeds to show you the toiletries he got - especially for you, he adds with another blush - and how the shower and tub work. Then, to your surprise, he leaves you in private to clean up. Apparently he's still a gentleman, in his own twisted little way.

With your captor gone, your heart rate settles into something more bearable. You rest your hands on the counter and take several deep breaths as you stare in the mirror.

Your sickly, gray-tinged face stares back, pupils blown wide, and your hair is a sweaty mess. You feel like a wrung-out paper towel, and it shows. It would have been flattering, the way Jin still looked at you as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world. At least, it would have been flattering if he wasn't a fucking lunatic.

Part of you considers not brushing your teeth, because if he's gonna try to kiss you again he deserves the flavor. But your own comfort wins out, and you scowl at your reflection as you use the expensive electric toothbrush he had so considerately gotten you.

Then, deciding you aren't ready to deal with whatever the fuck is going on on the other side of the door, you turn to the spacious, tiled shower. You begin to remove the silky black dress you had slept in, before eyeing the bathroom door and striding across the room to lock it. No doubt Jin has a key or something, but it makes you feel better, at least. No way you're going to get naked with the door unlocked when a deranged Romeo thinks this is some cute domestic situation.

Steam begins to fill the room and you test the temperature before letting your dress pool at your feet and stepping out of it. Your underclothes go next, and you step under the stream. The hot water beats at your back with irritatingly perfect pressure, and as some of the fogginess leaves your brain you do your best to make sense of what the fuck is happening.

Despite everything you've been hit with today, it's still hard to wrap your mind around the fact that Kim Seokjin drugged you. And… kidnapped you? Are you kidnapped? You woke up with a fucking ankle cuff, but he also didn't seem too worried when he unlocked it and left you alone in here.

With a start, you wonder what happened to your phone. Does he have it? Has anyone called to check in on you? That should be your plan A.

The situation is utterly insane, and a hysterical giggle bubbles out of your chest before you can stop it. What the hell is this? If you got out of the shower, got dressed, and walked out of his house would he even stop you? Was this some weird roleplay scenario Jin got way too invested into?

You've known Seokjin for a year now, had a crush on him for most of that time, and there had been nothing to indicate that something like this would happen. Your friend groups overlapped, and when he had finally asked you on a date everyone had been thrilled. Maybe this is all some strange misunderstanding, that would make more sense than anything else.

Something in your gut tells you to be careful, though. Even if it seems ridiculous, if there's even a miniscule chance that this isn't a joke, then he could react… poorly to certain things you say. Before this, Jin had never been anything other than sweet, kind, and respectful. But you've known enough men who seem that way at first only to change completely when faced with something they didn't want to hear, and self-preservation has taught you to soften your words, skirt around sensitive subjects, and flatter egos.

Even if Jin's behavior makes you uneasy, you really don't have enough information to understand what's happened. He drugged you, but considering you woke up fully clothed on top of a made bed indicates that nothing physical happened. The weirdest thing - other than him saying he drugged you - is the ankle cuff. And with the concern in his eyes when he looked at you… well, at least it doesn't seem like he's going to hurt you.

You've also read enough thrillers and movies to realize that if you run out of this house - apartment? - screaming or looking like a crazy person, someone as handsome and charming as Seokjin could scoop you back up in a heartbeat. You remember reading about that exact situation happening with a serial killer who managed to convince the police to return his victim to his clutches.

Better to wait, to go with the flow and see what paths are available to you. Planning is never a bad idea, after all.

That decided, you finish washing off and step out to dry yourself in a fluffy white towel. You feel a little more grounded now, uncomfortable but at least calmer with the makings of a game plan. You'll first try to figure out what he did with your phone.

You put your old clothes back on with a grimace, because the idea of encouraging Seokjin by coming out in just a towel is even more distasteful. With the way he's acting like you're somehow already some established couple, he'd probably take it as an invitation.

When you nervously peek out the door, however, the bedroom is empty. Which is as suspicious as it is relieving.

The dirty sheets have been stripped off the bed, and some folded clothes sit atop the bare mattress. It's clear Seokjin means for you to wear them, and you briefly contemplate defiance before deciding there's no point antagonizing someone you clearly don't know as well as you thought.

You pick up the folded pair of sweatpants, and something falls to the ground. It's a familiar piece of fabric, and your blood freezes in your veins.

With trembling fingers, you kneel to pick up the pair of lacy cheeky underwear you thought you lost at the laundromat months ago. You had lamented its loss, because it had been one of your few splurges, a gem amongst your Fruit-of-the-Loom multipacks.

Why does Seokjin of all people have them? How? What the fuck. What the fuck.

Body shaking, you inspect them, desperately hoping that for some inexplicable reason he just happens to have the same brand, model, and size on hand. Your worst fears are confirmed when you see your initials on the tiny tag, written so your shitty roommate couldn't claim them as her own. Oh how you wish you were home, fuming about her dirty dishes taking up the sink.

They look clean, but you take a cautious, fearful sniff before relaxing slightly. Then a giggle bubbles out of you. You're trapped in a crazy guy's house, and you're relieved your stolen underwear just smells like laundry detergent. Maybe you're losing it.

It's all officially too much for you to process on your still pounding head. So you go by instinct - not that it fucking did you any good before - and change into what Seokjin has so kindly left you.

Of course his sweatpants fit you around the waist, because his own is stupidly tiny. You have to roll up the legs a little, and the shirt is decidedly baggy, but at this point you have more important things to worry about.

Like what exactly you're supposed to do now. You test the door knob, and are only slightly disappointed to find it locked. Perhaps Seokjin isn't quite as convinced of this lovey-dovey scenario as he seemed.

Mentally exhausted, you flop back onto the bed, legs dangling off the edge. Unbothered by the lack of sheets or your wet hair, you stare sightlessly up at the gauzy canopy above you. Your mind doesn't stop racing, but nothing really sticks out other than more repeated "what the fuck"s.

A knock startles you out of your haze.

"Are you dressed?" Seokjin calls, and you make a wordless noise of assent as you sit up. So nice of him to ask before entering the room he locked you into. There's a soft click before the knob turns, and he walks with damp hair, fresh clothes, and a warm smile that does nothing to dispel the cold unease in your gut.

"You look cute," he says with a happy grin, clearly enjoying the way you look swaddled in his clothes. You feel your face heat up at the admiration in his tone and remind yourself this fucker stole your underwear.

"How are you feeling?" he asks sweetly, and you blink. That is quite the loaded question, one you're not sure how to answer.

"Better," you respond, deciding to settle for a simplified version of the tumultuous thoughts taking residence in your head. You do feel a little more human now that you're clean, though you also certainly feel nowhere near the vicinity of good.

"I'm glad," says Seokjin with a relieved smile, striding towards you with his long legs and reaching forward to stroke your cheek. "I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

An incredulous scoff bubbles from your throat unbidden, and your mouth moves before you can think the better of it.

"You mean like getting drugged and kidnapped?"

As soon as the words pass your lips you regret it. The flare of satisfaction at speaking your mind isn't worth any potential backlash when you have no idea how he'll react.

Seokjin just smiles at your outburst, bringing his other hand forward to cradle your face, shuffling closer so he's standing between your legs.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he murmurs, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own. The woody scent of his cologne wafts over you and you do your best not to let your gaze trail to his plump lips. "I just couldn't wait any longer."

"What do you mean?" you ask in a soft, quivering voice, unsure if your heart is racing from fear or something else. Despite the present circumstances, you've pined after Jin for so long that his proximity and touch is enough to pin you into place.

"I've wanted you for so long," Jin whispers, mouth only a hair away from your own. You can't move, can't look away, helpless against this spell he's weaving around you. You can almost believe this is a sweet, romantic little moment. If only it was that simple. "And you're finally mine."

Then he's kissing you, slow and sweet. His lips are just as soft as before, silkier than the sheets you woke up on, and your mind goes blank as you gasp against him. He takes it as an invitation, running his tongue across your lower lip before licking into your mouth with deliberate strokes that make your head spin.

You bring your hands up to his chest to push him away, but then his right hand shifts from his cheek to the back of your head, deepening the kiss. Instead, your fingers tangle into his shirt as an involuntarily whimper escapes your lips, and you find yourself pulling him closer.

His groan nearly does you in as he pushes you further up the bare mattress so he can climb over you, mouth never leaving yours. You tell yourself you're going along with this to appease him, to lull him into a false sense of security to make it easier for you to escape later. It's not because his warmth and scent have consumed you, that you're so pathetically starved for his touch that you're willing to ignore the warnings in your brain.

"I know you want this too," Seokjin breathes as he pulls back, staring down at you with swollen lips and dark eyes and looking far too gorgeous for someone who would resort to kidnapping. His hands begin to push up the hem of your - his - shirt, and you instinctively tug it back down, some tiny part of your brain still aware enough to keep you reluctant.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Jin croons, pushing your hands aside to let his fingers dance beneath the shirt, sending shivers and tingles across your skin. "You're beautiful."

His hands snake up higher despite the feeble way you grip his arms, your half-hearted attempt to stop him doing absolutely nothing to deter his questing touch. When his palms come to rest at your breasts, thumbs brushing over the lace covering your nipples, you bite your lip to hold back a gasp. Jin's eyes zero in on the movement and his lips quirk into a devastating smirk.

"Sensitive here?" he asks nonchalantly, and you shake your head as the final shreds of your self respect attempt to make a futile last stand.

"No-oo!" your protest ends in a squeak as he gives you an experimental pinch, sending a spark of desire between your legs. His eyes darken and his grin spreads as your body betrays you, and before you can react he's yanked your shirt up and over your head.

You don't even have time to try to cover your exposed skin before his hands are on you again, the cups of your bra shoved down to give him full access.

"W-wait," you gasp as he begins to knead at your skin in earnest, his pinches and caresses making your head fuzz and your blood simmer. Jin chuckles and leans in to nuzzle your ear, giving the shell a hot lick that draws another needy noise from your throat.

"You're being so shy, it's cute," he murmurs, and at his words a spark of irritation and anxiety breaks through the warm fuzz clouding your mind. You open your mouth to tell him you're not being shy, that you don't want this, but then he begins to suckle at your neck and all that comes out is another moan.

"J-Jin," you try again, attempting to formulate words while his teeth nip at your sensitive skin. He pulls away, but your relief at the reprieve vanishes when he replaces one of the hands at your chest with his mouth instead. He rolls his tongue around your nipple and you jolt, bucking your hips up against his hard erection, making him hiss.

Seokjin's free hand begins to trail downward to the hem of your sweatpants, and you feel another spark of panic mix with the fire in your chest. This whole situation has spiraled wildly out of your control, and you're not sure if there's anything you can do to stop it. If you ever could at all.

"D-don't," you gasp weakly, one hand tugging at his hair while your other grips his wrist in another pathetic attempt to keep him from going further. He easily ignores your struggles, dipping into your pants and underwear to drag wicked fingers along your dripping folds.

"Oh fuck," he groans, releasing your nipple with a wet pop in favor of watching your open-mouthed expression. "You're so wet for me."

You make a noise that was supposed to be a protest but only encourages him, and he gathers the arousal along your entrance before beginning to rub light, teasing circles around your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as you bite your lip, trying and failing to muffle the sounds of pleasure and distress that his motions are pulling from you.

"P-please s-stop," you hiccup even as your traitorous body bucks against his palm, wet and aching as he alternates between rubbing your swollen bud and running his fingers teasingly against your folds. You're still trying to push his hand away, though with such little force that even you can tell you're no longer putting any effort into it.

"You're dripping, baby," Jin groans with appreciation as he slides his middle finger into you. You mewl at the way his thick digit stretches your walls, hands falling to scrabble at the mattress as you try not to arch into his touch. He pumps his finger in and out of you, completely ensnared by sweet moans spilling out of your kiss-swollen lips, testing different motions and angles to see what other pretty sounds he can pull out of you.

"Oh fuck," you keen softly when the pad of his finger curls into something that makes your entire body tense. Jin locks onto it like a predator targeting his prey, giving another rub that brings a high-pitched "ah!" of pleasure from your throat.

"Yeah?" he asks hoarsely as he drinks in your expression. He adds a second finger, feeling his cock twitch painfully when you let out a ragged moan. "You like that?"

"P-please," you beg through teary eyes, unsure if you're asking him to stop or keep going. Your body feels hot and heavy, brain swimming with cotton as you try to remember why you had been pushing him away in the first place. You bring your hands up to grab Jin's shirt, pulling him closer and he obeys, expression wild and reverent.

He crashes his lips onto yours, devouring you as you pant and gasp against his mouth. His tongue slides sloppily against yours as he fucks into you with relentless fingers and you arch your body shamelessly as liquid fire pools through all your limbs, thick and unescapable.

"Jin," you gasp, hips stuttering against his hand as the pressure in your veins becomes overwhelming. Seokjin growls, grinding the heel of his palm against your clit as he rubs insistently at your walls. You snap with a choked cry, body quaking beneath him as your cunt spasms around his fingers.

"That's it," Jin rasps as he presses his hand hard against you, letting you rub yourself against him as you ride out your climax.

He only relents when you scoot your hips away, fucked out and quivering with oversensitivity. Before you can regain any modicum of sense or sanity, he's pulling off your sweatpants and (stolen) underwear.

"I need a taste," he breathes, running a finger down your swollen, sensitive lips. "You'll let me, right?"

Seokjin - shockingly - doesn't wait for your answer before diving in, licking a broad stripe up your slit and making you twitch futilely against his face.

"T-too much," you whimper as his tongue sends electric jolts throughout your body, hands fisting in his hair as you try to push him off.

"Sorry baby, you're just too sweet," he groans, burying his face deeper between your legs and gripping your thighs to keep you from wiggling away. "I can't get enough."

Jin laps mercilessly at your clit, long slow strokes that soon have your toes curling and your protests melting into weak gasps. And when he presses his fingers back into you, thrusting and twisting just so, you know you're done for. You're already twitching and oversensitive from his earlier attack. All he has to do is continue his steady ministrations and before long your thighs are clenching around him as he forces you over the edge yet again, yanking on his hair and grinding your pussy against him as his fingers dig bruises into your soft flesh.

You lay there panting and trembling, staring as Seokjin sits back on his heels and wipes your juices off his glistening chin. You'd be embarrassed if you had any capacity for thought, but the only thing on your mind is a hazy "holy shit." No one has ever been so single-handedly determined to get you off, or been attentive enough to be able to do it so effectively.

He's staring at you with an expression that makes you flush, as if you somehow did something incredible when he was the one who had reduced you to incoherent babbles.

"You're perfect," Jin says, so sincerely that you feel your heart flutter again despite - what were you upset about, again? Then it comes crashing back - the drugging, the kidnapping, the fucking ankle cuff that's still on the bed and you feel anxiety cut through the bliss clouding your mind.

It only rises when he pulls off his shirt, revealing perfect golden skin and lean muscle that almost distracts you from the bulge in his pants and the wet spot that's formed. Attraction and anxiety well inside of you, and instead of trying to get away like a rational person you find yourself frozen to the spot, watching him kick off his sweatpants.

His cock springs free, long and thick and leaking precum and you swallow as you stare in disbelief.

"Um," you say stupidly, wondering when he's gonna say "surprise" and reveal his real, normal-sized penis. Then he begins crawling toward you and it becomes apparent that yes, apparently Seokjin is blessed in every single area except his sanity. The feeling begins to return to your limbs and you find yourself scrambling away, panic at fitting that inside of you finally tipping the scales to self preservation.

Seokjin grabs your legs with a carefree laugh that sends a chill down your spine, pulling you back towards him.

"Being shy again?" he teases, pressing a soft kiss against your ankle as you try to yank yourself out of his grip.

"Jin, please stop," you beg, heart hammering as you try to push him away. "I can't - I don't want to -"

"I'll take it slow," Jin says soothingly, pulling you snug against him. You gasp as the head of his cock brushes against your entrance, before redoubling your efforts and trying to kick at him.

"Baby, I know you're scared, but-"

"Of course I'm scared, you asshole," you snarl, finally pushed past the point of self-preservation as your patience snaps. "Let me go!"

To your increasing confusion and alarm, Seokjin just gives you a gentle smile as he pins your legs with his, then grabs your flailing arms with his own. He transfers them to one large hand and you try to wrench them out of his grip, to no avail.

"I didn't want to do this, but…"

He trails off and reaches above your head and to the side. Fear bubbles in your chest as you wonder what he might do - drug you again? Fuck you while you're unconscious?

Jin lets one of your hands free while he wraps something around your wrist and you immediately try to go for his eyes. Unfortunately he's prepared and catches you easily, with another obnoxious chuckle as if he thinks you're being cute. When you try to yank free again you realize your right hand is now bound in a cuff that matches the one on your ankle earlier.

"W-what the fuck?" you screech, writhing against him as he snaps another into place around your formerly free wrist. "Jin, what the fuck?"

"I know you're just scared," Seokjin coos lovingly, a manic glint shining in his eyes as he leans in to brush tender kisses along your jaw. You jerk your head away and he just sighs, diverting his attention to your neck and shoulder instead.

His hands begin stroking at your breasts and sides again as you try to buck him off, but with his weight on your legs it's a useless effort. You clench your jaw shut as he begins to nip and suck at your skin, trying to will your body not to react to his ministrations.

"It's okay, baby," he murmurs soothingly, rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger and sending unwanted sparks down your spine. He scoots back, setting his hands on your thighs before you can kick at him, and begins trailing slow, lazy kisses down your stomach. "I'll take care of you."

"Jin, please stop," you try, anger fading into dread as it truly hits you that you're not going anywhere he doesn't want you to. He meets your gaze from between your legs, smiles, and you feel your heart sink.

"N-no," you whisper, trying to squeeze your legs closed. His tongue begins to prod at your entrance, and you bite your lip as you yank uselessly at your wrists. Jin's hands knead tenderly at the meat of your thighs as he licks up and down your slit, eyes sharp for every change in your expression.

You try not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, try not to reveal the way every flick of his tongue makes you ache for more. But it's obvious in each jerk of your hips, the way you can feel yourself practically dripping onto his lips.

Tears prickle your eyes at how utterly useless you feel, intermingled with shame at how you are enjoying this despite your efforts not to. If you had managed to keep yourself together earlier, could you have prevented this? Was it your fault for being too starry-eyed to notice any red flags before?

"J-Jin, please," you sniffle, wriggling helplessly in his grip as he forces you to take what he's giving you. Your plea has the opposite effect you wanted, only making him groan and double his enthusiasm as you writhe in pleasure and anguish. His tongue delves deep into you, lapping up everything you have to offer, and a moan wrenches itself from your throat as his nose rubs against your clit.

Your previous two orgasms have already left you sensitive and weak, and you whine pitifully as he fucks you open with his tongue. The sounds coming from between your legs are obscene, sloppy and wet as he eats you out like a man starved. It's like he's found an oasis between your legs and he's determined to drink you dry.

It's only a matter of time, really, before the pleasure pooling in your gut threatens to overflow, and your muscles tense as you try to hold yourself back.

"N-no," you choke, trying to jerk away for the umpteenth time as Jin's treacherous tongue brings you higher and higher. "I - I don't want-"

One of his hands leaves your thigh to press gently on your clit and your voice dies as pleasure pulses through you. Your legs lock around Jin's head as you come hard on his face, mouth open in a silent scream as his tongue fucks you through another orgasm you didn't ask for.

You're still panting, still trembling from the aftershocks when you feel the insistent nudge of something thick and blunt against your swollen folds.

"Wait," you begin, trying not to moan when Jin drags his heavy cock up and down your entrance. Each time the head rubs against your clit you feel your bones turn to jelly, and by the way Jin licks his lips, he can tell exactly what he's doing to you.

"You're so wet, baby," he breathes raggedly, eyes on your dazed expression as he lines himself up. He drives his tip into you, so thick that despite the slide the burning stretch forces a treacherous moan from your throat. "So perfect for me."

"Oh my god," you whimper as he forces his way further inside, eyes rolling back as you arch into his chest. He's too fucking big, overwhelming in horribly delicious ways, every vein and ridge snug against you and threatening to rob you of your sanity.

"Fuck, so tight," Jin hisses, cock twitching inside of you as you clench around him. For a moment it seems like your walls won't let him any further, and you quiver beneath him as he pulls out just enough to fuck you open a little more.

The friction is sinfully, devastatingly perfect and all you can do is lie there and take it, lips parted as you gasp and whimper at the overwhelming pressure in your core. If he keeps going, something is going to break, and it might be you.

"It's too much," you choke as he gives another experimental thrust that sends your unshed tears spilling over your cheeks. "J-Jin, I can't, you're too big, I-"

He cuts you off by pressing his lips against yours, the softness of his kiss at complete odds with the way he's splitting you open.

"You're being so good for me, baby," he murmurs in a voice that sounds almost as ragged as yours. He cradles your face in his hands, brushing your tears away with gentle thumbs as you sniffle and hiccup beneath him.

Then he shoves into you another inch, and the words die in your throat, replaced by a broken whimper that makes him freeze above you.

"Shit," he curses, and your foggy mind has a split second to wonder what he means before he pulls out, leaving you a conflicted mixture of relieved and achingly empty.

"Wh-"

Jin rams into you in one vicious thrust, ripping a scream from your throat as he buries himself to the hilt. He fucks into you fast and hard, giving you no time to recover and leaving you sobbing and begging for him to slow down.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he pants as you struggle uselessly beneath him, legs kicking out as he drives himself into you again and again. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out as he drinks in your tear-stained face, and a twisted part of you thinks you've never seen anything more terrible and beautiful. "You feel too good, baby, fuck."

When he brings his hand between the two of you to rub at your clit you think you might actually die. It's all too much, he's too much, his stupid giant dick is too much, fucking every thought out of your head except that you have never felt so much at once, pain and pleasure and fear and arousal all blending into some primordial mixture that has you helpless and pliant beneath him.

The look on your face must be something, because it makes Jin's eyes widen for a split second before he's yanking your legs up over his shoulders and thrusting into you even more frantically than before.

This new angle makes you scream again as black spots dance in your vision, and you're unable to formulate any words other than the broken babbles Jin is forcing out of your lips.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," Jin growls, the slap of skin against skin filling the room as he slams into you over and over again. You can only cry out, your throat almost as raw as your trembling wrists.

"Pleasepleaseplease," you sob helplessly, hating the way he's fucking every rational thought from your head. "Fuck, slow down, please."

In a miraculous turn of events, Seokjin actually listens to you, and lets your legs splay back down around his hips. But then he thrusts into you even deeper, grinding his cock into you as far as it can go and you choke at the sensation. The pain is overshadowed by the way his pelvis presses against your clit and you feel yourself spasm around his length.

"Oh, fuck," Seokjin groans, repeating the movement, and you feel like if you weren't currently speared on his dick you might float away into nothing. All you're aware of anymore is the way Jin's cock is rubbing nerves you didn't know existed, the gooey fire he's grinding out of your clit and sending out to every finger tip.

You're not sure how long you're in that haze, how long Jin's hips are rutting against yours as curses at the way your traitorous walls are sucking him deeper. But the pressure keeps building, and building, and building, and a faraway part of you panics, thinks that if you go over the edge you'll never stop falling.

"Cum for me, baby," Jin growls, eyes glued to your face as you fight the inevitable. You screw your eyes shut, but there's no escaping the steady, mind-melting friction as he mercilessly grinds his cock into you.

"N-no," you slur in a broken voice that doesn't even sound real anymore, your core throbbing with need. You're too fucked out too move, tied up and unable to do anything but let him keep rubbing you raw. The pressure is unbearable and you feel more tears spill down your face. "No, I can't, I can't."

Jin just moans in appreciation as he watches your rapidly unraveling expression. You look absolutely debauched, eyes wet and glassy, a trickle of blood running down from where you've bitten into your lip, chest rising and falling in pants and moaned protests.

"No," you hiccup as he works you over, relentless and insatiable. He's ruthless in his quest to discover everything you have to offer, his filthy sweet words and praises only adding to the tempest overwhelming your body. You sob for him to stop as the pressure of his stretch and the relentless friction on your clit consume you. "Nonon-ohhhmygodddd!"

Your protests end in a wail as the dam bursts, your entire body spasming uncontrollably as Jin lets out a destroyed groan. You don't hear him, lost to the waves of color wracking your frame as you cum and cum and fucking cum.

"Holy shit baby," Seokjin gasps as you drench his thighs and mattress, hips bucking against him as you ride out the heat flooding your veins. You're barely aware of it, though when he starts fucking into you again you let out a sweet little whine that just drives him more wild.

"You feel so good," he grunts, pace unsteady your cunt clamps down on his pulsing cock. "Squeezing me so tight, like you want me to fill you up."

You gasp in alarm as his words register through your fading high, and Jin smirks down at your glazed eyes.

"You like that?" he asks roughly, hips stuttering even more as you writhe beneath him. "You want me to make you mine?"

You try to protest, but nothing comes out of your mouth but humiliating, wrecked moans each time he thrusts into your twitching cunt. His motions grow rougher, more erratic and when you try to wiggle your ass away all he does is slam you back onto him so hard you see stars. It's clear he's blown straight past any potential stop sign, and the desperate grunts coming from his throat are enough for your body to betray you as your walls clamp down on his length once more.

He buries himself deep with a wrecked groan and you feel his cock twitch as he empties himself inside you. You let out a strangled sound halfway between a protest and a moan, spent and defeated as Jin pants and collapses onto you. He buries his face in your neck, pressing soft kisses against your skin and you're torn between enjoying his tenderness and wanting to scream.

"God, you're so perfect," he sighs as he nuzzles your ear. You can't speak, still trying to get your brain to form a coherent thought. At least it's over, and he can hopefully leave you to your shame and horror as you try to unpack what he's done and your own body's reactions to his ministrations.

Seokjin hoists himself up to his elbows, still inside you, and gives you a smile so sweet and adoring you find it hard to reconcile him with the man who just fucked the living daylights out of you.

"I didn't know you could do that," he says with a grin, and you blink at him in confusion. He laughs and kisses your nose, before gesturing to the giant wet spot you're both currently laying in.

"Oh," is all that comes out. You're too exhausted to even be surprised or grossed out that you're right on top of it. "Me neither."

"Just for me, huh," he murmurs lovingly, eyes darkening as he traces your cheek with his fingers. You feel his cock begin to swell inside of you and your eyes widen in alarm despite the whisper of ecstacy it sends through you.

"Jin, I can't handle another round," you plead pitifully, fear filling you at the thought of surviving another session like that. Your throat is raw from screaming, your wrists are chafed from your struggles, and your poor pussy is swollen and sore, unused to so much punishment.

"Of course you can," he replies, giving a shallow thrust that has your traitorous body arching into him again. The squelch from the mixture of his seed and your own arousal makes you want to cry. "See?"

"Please," you beg again, as if it had worked at all the previous times you had tried. He just smiles, one hand cupping your cheek lovingly as the other trails down to where the two of you are connected.

"It's okay, baby," he soothes, brushing his fingers lightly over your abused clit and swallowing your moan with his lips. "You're perfect for me, after all."

~~~~~

#kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #yandere kim seokjin #dead dove do not eat #yandere seokjin #seriously this is just depraved self indulgence #tw noncon #noncon tw #tw dark content #tw nonconsensual