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proxima-writes · 7 months

Text

pairing: cult leader!joel miller x virgin!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 8.6k

summary:

You think you’re as good as dead when a band of raiders find you. In what you think are your final moments, an angel appears.

His name is Joel Miller, and he is here to deliver you from evil.

author's note: a huge thank you to my fellow cultist @atinylittlepain for listening to me scream about this. without them, we'd probably be on version 5 of this story. and to everyone who has been excited about this, i hope you enjoy!

warnings: DARK CONTENT - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, dub-con: power dynamics, dub-con: cult mentality, age difference - 60M and 27F, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, dual POV, post-outbreak, canon divergence, canon typical violence (knife wounds, gun shot wounds, numerous mentions of blood), minor character death(s), blood cult ceremonies, religious themes, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, loss of virginity, oral sex - f receiving, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, cum play, dirty talk, pet names, praise, joel really has a loose screw ok? if there are any tags missing, please let me know!

“I don’t think you should go out there by yourself,” you say, watching as your dad inspects his gun. He looks up at you with a pained expression.

“I gotta see where we should head next. I don’t want to lead you out in the wrong direction, accidentally get you in a bad spot,” he says. “I’ll be fine, buttercup.”

There’s a heaviness that settles in your stomach at his words. He sounds confident enough, but his eyes tell a different story, expose his fear. He stands with a sigh, a wince of pain washing over his face.

“Maybe I should—“

“No,” he interrupts. “I’m going. I won’t be gone long, okay? We can’t stay here forever. Who knows what’s out there in the forest.”

That’s exactly what you’re afraid of. At least inside the rotted cabin you stumbled across you could pretend you were safe. The forest is alive in a way you’ve never experienced growing up in a QZ surrounded with barbed wire and steel. You hear the snap of twigs and the howl of wolves, or the flutter of wings and the call of birds, and sometimes you think you feel the weight of eyes watching you if you venture out too far in your exploration.

“We’ve made it this far. We got out of Denver and that was half the battle,” your dad says. “You got your knife, right? And enough rations.”

You nod, swallowing around the lump in your throat. He kisses your forehead, dry lips lingering on your skin. You have an aching feeling this is a goodbye, some sinking intuition that he’s making a mistake that you can’t correct.

“Be back soon. I love you.”

Joel’s been keeping an eye on the people in the woods for the last three days. There was chatter on one of the radio stations that the Denver QZ was facing an uprising and he knows that once those walls come down, the survivors that venture out are bound to stumble across his town.

The cabin door opens and the man steps out, venturing into the forest. Joel waits to see if his female companion follows, but the door remains shut. He longs to see you, the girl who’s image has been burned into his brain since his first glimpse, but he has a duty to fulfill first.

He walks quickly and quietly through the forest, sure feet catching up with the man less than a mile from where he’d started. Joel clears his throat.

The man turns, fumbling with a gun that he clearly has no experience using, pointing it at Joel with shaking hands and shouting, “Move and I’ll shoot!”

“You lost?” Joel asks, holding his hands up and keeping his face trained in a mask of concern. “Lookin’ for somethin’?”

After a pause, the man seeming to have concluded that Joel isn't a threat, he says, “My daughter and I…we escaped the Denver QZ."

"That must've been difficult."

"We....we're running out of food," he continues, dropping his arms, limbs hanging heavy at his sides. "I-I don't know what else to do, man."

Gun no longer pointed at his face, Joel approaches the man, stopping when he's within arms reach. Up close, he can see the dismal state the guy is in -- sunken cheeks and bloodshot eyes, tattered clothing hanging on a thin frame. Joel places a hand on his bony shoulder.

"I can help you," he says. The man looks up, a brief glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes. Joel watches the slow realization, the way his brain catches up to what's just happened, a choked noise spilling from his dry lips.

Joel tugs his knife from the man's gut and steps back, watching as he collapses to the ground. Desperate hands smear the blooming red stain across his abdomen. Joel circles the man, positioning himself at his back, and pulls him close with a hand slapped over his mouth.

"I'll take good care of her," he whispers before dragging his knife across his neck in one clean slice. The man twitches once before growing limp and Joel releases him, body hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. Not one to waste, Joel gathers anything of use from his person.

Something catches the light against his neck. Curious, Joel tugs the bloodstained neck of his t-shirt to the side, finding a silver chain. He pulls, revealing the length of it.

A cross.

The clasp snaps with a sharp tug and Joel stuffs it in his pocket. Standing and shouldering his bag once more, he begins his walk back towards the cabin.

You're running as fast as your legs will carry you, lungs and limbs burning with the effort. You made the mistake of not listening to your dad when he'd told you stay where you were, to stay hidden, that he'd come back. Your nerves had gotten the best of you and you decided that you would catch up with him, but you didn't know which direction he'd gone. You figured you would travel a little ways and see if you could find him and if you didn't do so quickly, you'd rush back to the cabin and wait, just as he told you.

That's when the men saw you, two large figures with rifles that reminded you of FEDRA soldiers slung across their backs.

You duck behind a thick tree to catch your breath. You can hear voices calling out through the forest above the rush of blood in your ears, taunting tones carrying through the air.

"C'mon out, pretty girl!"

You chance a peek out from your hiding spot, only catching a brief glimpse of one man through the trees.

"Where ya hidin', sweet thing?"

His voice sounds far away and that gives you the courage to move forward, a tentative dash for another tree.

“I might be nicer to ya if you just come on out, but if I have to hunt ya down…well…you know what a hunter does to its prey, don’tcha?”

You press your hand over your mouth, muffling the cry that claws its way up your throat. You start to run again, faster, not caring if he can hear you so long as you're able to maintain that distance, hoping that if you can outrun them for long enough, he'll just give up and then maybe you can find your--

You crash into something, the world sliding out from under you and the breath rushing from your lungs as you land on your back with a pained shout. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you across the rough ground before you have the chance to recover.

"Gotcha," a man says, the voice different from the one that had been taunting you before. A figure stands over you, a foot on either side of your hips, looking down at you with a sinister smile. "Pretty little prize, huh?"

You twist your body, scrambling away from him. He laughs, following after you with unhurried strides.

“Now, don’t play hard to get,” he admonishes. A hand wraps around your ankle and he drags you toward him, kicking and screaming. Your foot connects with some fleshy part of him and he curses.

“You little fuckin’ cunt,” he hisses, dropping your foot. He kicks you, heavy boot colliding with soft flesh and bone, a sharp pain blossoming in your side, shooting down to your very marrow. You curl in on yourself, wounded prey trying to protect its most vulnerable parts.

A shot rings out, the sound startling in the relative quiet of the forest. You sit up, sudden movement making you light headed, and it takes you a long moment to register the scene before you.

The man that had been chasing you, the one that had caught you, the one that had hurt you on the surface but planned to do far worse, lies on the ground, eyes wide open but unseeing. Above him stands your savior, an older man with gray streaked dark curls and tan skin, broad shoulders and hard brown eyes. He reminds you of a painting you saw once in a book your dad owned, long before the outbreak.

“Death On A Pale Horse,” he explained when you showed him the painting that caught your eye. “Based on the Book of Revelations. You remember that one, right?”

“Yeah.”

“This one,” — he pointed to the central figure, a dark creature on a white horse — “is Death. And this one” — he pointed to a figure on the right that rides a dark brown horse, the dark colors making him blend among the horrors breaking from the sky behind him — “would be famine. You can see the emaciated man below him.”

“What about the other two?” You asked.

“The one of the red horse would be war.”

You pointed to the remaining figure, a man with dark curls and a determined expression. “And the white horse?”

Your dad paused. “Conquest. Pestilence. The Antichrist. The first horseman of the apocalypse.”

The man before you today looks like that figure on the white horse and despite his choice to rescue you from one horror, you fear he may be something far worse.

The man kneels and you flinch away from him. He sighs and says, “I ain’t goin’ to hurt you.”

“Who are you?” You ask, voice weak, throat on fire.

“My name is Joel,” he says. “I want to help you.”

“How do I know you weren’t with those other guys?” Your eyes grow wide and you rush to stand on shaky legs. “Wait, there’s another—“

“He won’t be an issue,” Joel assures you, wrapping a steadying arm around your waist. “C’mon.”

“I can’t—“

“Men like those two ain’t the only things in the forest to worry about, and I’m afraid we can’t sit around and find out. That gun shot could send a horde runnin’.”

“Wait!” You snap, pulling out of his grasp. He holds his hands up, as if in surrender, or maybe like he’s approaching a wounded animal. You’re not sure which. “My dad is out there. H-he went to figure out where to go from here. We were in a cabin…” Your voice trails off. “I told him I would wait for him.”

Joel’s eyes are soft as he says, “We need to get ourselves to safety. I can send someone out to look for your dad first thing in the mornin’.”

“Send someone?”

“There’s a group of us, down in the valley. Survivors, like you.”

“Really?” Relief washes over you, eclipsing even the ache in your belly and the burn in your throat and the pain in your muscles. “How far?”

“With the state you’re in, probably about a two hour hike.”

You don’t have much choice but to go with him, do you?

“Okay.”

“Where’re you comin’ from?” Joel asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. You’ve been following quietly behind him, head down and eyes fixed on the ground.

“Denver,” is all you offer in response. He knew that much already. He wants to know more.

Maybe he has to give more first.

“‘M from Texas, originally. Was in a QZ in Boston for a while before makin’ my way out here.”

“Why’d you come out here?” You ask.

“Had a friend once tell me, ‘Save who you can save’,” he says.

“What does that mean?” You ask.

“You’ll see.”

Joel had mentioned survivors, but you're shocked to discover that just past a wooden sign proclaiming WELCOME TO CRESTONE in chipped yellow paint, a whole town is tucked away, surrounded by a wooden gate that opens for you as you approach. You feel the weight of curious eyes as you walk through a town square, Joel's palm between your shoulder blades steering you towards a more residential area until you reach a two story adobe home.

Once inside, you’re led upstairs to a sparsely decorated bedroom, a large bed in the center with a faded quilt tucked around the mattress with precision and a dresser against one wall covered in yellowed wallpaper. Joel gestures for you to sit, kneeling on the wood floor in front of you to work on the laces of your sneakers.

“What—“

“You need rest,” he says, removing your shoes. He looks up at you, brown eyes full of concern. Your stomach flips.

“But—“

“No,” he says sternly. He stands and walks to the side of the bed, tugging the quilt free and folding it down. “I have duties to return to, but you’ll be safe here.”

You don’t have it in you to continue arguing. You haven’t seen a comfortable bed in more than two days and the exhaustion catches up to you in one fell swoop, eyes halfway to shut as you crawl into the space Joel’s made for you between the sheets. He pulls the covers over you, the warmth of a hand smoothing across your cheek the last thing you feel before falling asleep.

You wake to the sun high in the sky, streaming through the open window of a room that you don't recognize. You push yourself to sitting, your ribs protesting the movement and your head pulsing just behind your eyes. Your mouth is unbearably dry, so much so that you start coughing, further aggravating your bruised ribs.

"There's water on the nightstand," a voice says, startling you.

You look to your left, finding a young girl sitting in a wooden chair by your bed. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, wayward pieces falling across pale skin. Her sharp brown eyes watch you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl.

“I’m Ellie,” she says. You mumble your own name.

“Did Joel save you?” Ellie asks.

“Uh—“

“He must have. That’s what he does,” she continues, cutting you off.

“Ellie!” A familiar deep voice calls out. Her eyes go wide and she scrambles from her seat, rushing for the door. Heavy footsteps climb the stairs, Joel appearing in the open doorway. He looks at her with a stern expression, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Thought I told you not to come up here.”

The look on her face isn’t fear, like her reaction would have led you to believe. No, she looks up at Joel with reverence as she says, “Sorry. Wanted to see her.”

Joel nods. “Head to the mess hall. I’ll bring her down shortly.”

Ellie casts a lingering look in your direction before disappearing through the doorway.

“Sorry about her,” Joel says. He takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “How’re you feelin’?”

“Could be better,” you say honestly. “How long was I asleep for?”

“A little more than a day.”

Your eyes go wide. “My dad—“

“We’ve sent out a search party. No luck yet, I’m afraid,” he says. You curl into yourself a bit at the news, shoulders tight with worry. He reaches forward and places a hand on top of your own where it rests on the sheets. “You should get some food. I brought you some new clothes, too. I’ll let you get dressed and we can go down to the mess hall.“

He leaves the room before you respond and you drag the pile of clothes closer to you, finding a neatly folded t-shirt, jeans, underwear, and socks. It takes you a long moment to work your way out of your dirty clothes, your movements slow to not aggravate your injuries. You keep your bra on, pulling the clean shirt over your head, followed by the jeans. You're thrilled to be wearing something that's not caked with dirt and sweat.

You're working on putting your socks on when there's a knock at the door, Joel entering when you call out for him to come in. He smiles at you.

"There, that's better," he says. "C'mon. Let's get down to dinner."

You follow him out of the room and down the stairs. The first floor of the home has a kitchen that opens up to a living and dining area, the space filled with worn mismatched furniture. The walls are wood paneled and there's a massive stone fireplace with elk antlers mounted above it.

The sun is setting as you step outside and get your first real look at the town as its bathed in gold. Narrow residential streets give way to wider roads once you reach the town center, where commercial buildings are pressed together advertising long forgotten businesses, their windows dark.

"That's the butcher up there," Joel says, pointing to one of the wooden buildings. "He gets the meat from the traps prepped for us." He points to another building with a sign that says RESTAURANT. "That's the bakery."

"A butcher and a bakery?" You ask. "Do you have electricity here?"

"Sure do. Solar panels, just outside the gate."

You continue walking through the town until you come up on a large white building, people entering and exiting through a set of thick double doors. The shadow of a cross remains above the door, perhaps scorched by the sun where a crucifix once sat. People welcome Joel as he enters, heads turning in their curiosity. You press a little closer to Joel's side.

The large room is bursting with noise and activity -- a flurry of conversations, the clink of cutlery, and laughter. You've not seen anything like it before, the mentality in the QZ not conducive to camaraderie. You can count on one hand the number of people you would have considered friends within those walls, and even that was a stretch. You and Joel join a line of people retrieving plates of food from a single window.

"How long has all of this been here?" You ask, gesturing to the room. He looks around proudly.

"Ellie and I came across this town on accident after we went through hell leavin' Boston. The folks here set up their own quarantine zone and with bigger fish to fry, FEDRA sort of left ‘em alone. They were kind enough to take us in," he says. "After that, more people started showin' up lookin' for safety. Lots of people who escaped the QZs or had been on their own for a while and were tired of runnin'."

"Ellie says you save people," you comment, taking a step forward as the line moves. "What's that mean?"

"Every flock needs a shepherd."

You’re at the front of the line now, standing in front of the window. A woman appears, her face lighting up when she sees Joel.

“Joel! How are you?” She asks, leaning onto the ledge. Behind her you can see people moving quickly and efficiently around a stainless steel kitchen, large pots of food simmering on the stovetop.

“Well enough,” he says. He places a hand on your shoulder. “We have a new guest. Make her plate nice and full for me?”

“Of course.”

She gathers a plate from a precarious stack, loading it with a heaping pile of food ranging from mashed potatoes and stew to colorful vegetables that you haven’t seen in ages, not since before the outbreak when you were seven and your dad would make dinner rather than pass you a ration package. You’re speechless as she hands you the plate with a kind smile, a mumbled thank you the best you can manage to show your gratitude.

Joel is handed a plate as well and you follow him to a table where Ellie sits next to a man with white hair, her plate already empty in front of her. The man looks up at Joel as you approach, his expression closed off and wary.

“Michael,” Joel says in greeting, jaw ticking. You take a seat beside Ellie, who to your surprise moves closer to you, arm brushing yours. “You botherin’ Ellie?”

The man, Michael, shakes his head. “No, sir. We were just having a little talk.”

“What about?” Joel sits on the opposite side of the table. He rips his bread roll in half.

“Just some concerns I was having.”

“You bring your concerns to me. Not to her.”

The two men stare at each other, the tension thick and impossible to ignore. Finally, Michael gets up, leaving the table without another word. Ellie’s shoulder’s lose their tension and Joel catches her eye, the two of them seeming to have an entire conversation in just a look.

The moment passes and Joel’s features relax, a smile tilting the corners of his lips as he returns his attention to you and gestures to your plate.

“Dig in,” he says.

Joel walks you back to his home after dinner, the sky now dark. Ellie’s already closed herself in her room by the time the two of you return, having left the mess hall before you had finished eating.

“Tired again?” Joel asks when you yawn, mouth open wide as you stretch your arms above your head.

Your expression is sheepish as you say, “A little bit.”

“That’s to be expected,” he assures you. “You fought a hard fight. It’s okay to relax now. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” Your fingers tangle in the hem of the t-shirt he’d given you earlier. “I don’t know if I’ve said that already.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get you back upstairs. You can use the shower and get to bed.”

“Oh my god, a shower sounds amazing.”

He shows you the bathroom and helps you get the water running. Once he shows you where to find a towel, you smile gratefully before shutting the door on him.

Dismissed, Joel makes his way to Ellie’s room, knocking on the door. She answers quickly, opening up only enough for him to see her face.

“Yeah?” She asks.

“Can I come in?”

She rolls her eyes but opens the door further, allowing him inside. Her room is smaller than his but far more decorated, pages ripped out of old magazines and comic books tacked to the wall. She takes a seat on her single bed, folding her legs beneath her.

“What did Michael talk to you about?” He asks. She shrugs her shoulders. Joel bites back a sigh. Sometimes he forgets what it was like to reason with a teenage girl. “Ellie.”

“He said” — she pauses, scratching at her wrist in the way that she will when she’s anxious — “he said that you were full of shit. That your fucked up ceremony isn’t helping any of them.”

Joel’s teeth grind together. “That all?”

“Called me a stupid kid for following what you say,” she mumbles. “Said everyone in town was stupid for believing you.”

“Thank you for tellin’ me,” he says. Rage burns in his veins as he turns to leave.

“What are you gonna do?” Ellie asks as he reaches the door.

“I’m goin’ to teach him a lesson.”

He pulls the door shut behind him, tilting his head against the wood with a sigh. The click of a latch down the hall precedes your quiet, “Joel?”

Joel turns to face you, surprised to find you standing just outside the bathroom door with a towel tucked around your body. Water glistens on your skin in the low light, drawing his eyes down your neck and across your chest. He clears his throat.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” you murmur. “I…could I get some new clothes?”

“Of course, should’a given you some before you showered. Sorry about that.”

Joel walks past you, entering his bedroom and approaching the dresser. He tugs the top drawer open, full of clothing he’d gathered while you’d been asleep for more than a day. He piles together another t-shirt, sleep pants, and underwear, setting them on the bed for you.

You’re standing in the doorway when he finishes and he fights the urge to go to you, to pull you close, to run his wretched hands over your body like he’s wanted to since he first saw you in the forest.

He doesn’t, though. Not yet. You still have much to learn.

“Here you go,” he says. “Some more stuff in the drawers for you if you need it.”

Joel leaves you to get ready for bed, shutting the door behind him. He heads downstairs to grab what he’ll need, essentials shoved in a bag thrown over his shoulder before venturing off into the night.

Only a few lights continue to illuminate windows as Joel walks through the residential area. The house he approaches at the end of a street is already dark, quiet beyond the wood door that he knocks on three times. The door opens slowly, Michael appearing in the small space.

“What?” He grunts.

“Come take a walk,” Joel says. Michael rolls his eyes, moving to shut the door but Joel’s boot blocks his effort. “I ain’t askin’, Michael.”

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to do?” He challenges. Joel throws his weight against the door, catching Michael by surprise enough for him to step into the house.

Joel throws an elbow into the man’s gut, making him double over with a groan. He circles behind him, kicking the back of his knee to send him to the ground. He pulls a length of chain from his pocket, looping it around Michael’s neck and pulling the ends.

Michael struggles, clawing at the garotte and thrashing wildly, but Joel holds strong. He tightens his grip further until Michael’s fight becomes sluggish, lack of oxygen finally causing him to go limp.

Joel releases the chain and Michael’s body slumps to the ground. He removes his backpack, digging through the contents until he finds a rusted pair of handcuffs that he uses to bind Michael’s arms behind his back. Next, he places a strip of duct tape over his mouth.

When he wakes, Joel will lead him out past the gate. He will find an unassuming home that rests outside the boundary of Crestone. He will open the hidden doors of the cellar, the ones covered in a layer of leaves and grass. From the darkness he will hear the echo of desperate groans and the rattle of chains and the angry attempts to break free from bindings. He will lead Michael down the dirt steps, the smell of rot and fear and death clawing at his olfactory nerves.

He will place a burlap bag over a struggling Michael’s head and the man will beg and plead in words muffled by tape. Then, Joel will offer him for judgment.

A hand on you shoulder shakes you awake, the room still mostly dark when you manage to open your eyes. You groan, pulling the quilt up over your head.

“C’mon, we gotta get to breakfast,” Ellie says. The cover gets yanked down and she gives you a mischievous grin.

“Where’s Joel?” You ask, sitting up slowly. She shrugs.

“Probably there already.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, stretching your arms up. You grab the same jeans and socks from the day before, changing into them quickly and sitting down on the floor to pull your sneakers on. Ellie watches you, her foot tapping impatiently.

“You can go without me if you’re in a rush,” you offer. She shakes her head.

“I’m fine,” she says quickly. “You ready?”

“Sure.”

You follow her out of the house, her clipped pace difficult to keep up with due to your lingering pain. As the sun starts to rise and you pass by more of the houses, you notice something peculiar about some of them.

“What’s that?” You ask, pausing in front of one the houses. There’s a streak of what looks like dark red paint across the top of the door. Ellie doubles back and stands beside you.

“Protection,” she says.

“From what?”

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, uncomfortable with your line of questioning. Rather than answer, she walks away, leaving you to catch up to her or be left behind.

As the two of you start to walk through the square, there’s a rush of people around you. Shouting can be heard up ahead as a crowd comes into view, gathered around the front of the mess hall building. People press in close together, craning their necks to see over each other and catch a glimpse of whatever spectacle has their attention.

Ellie pushes through the crowd and you follow close on her heels until she manages to break through the other side of the wall of people. You catch glimpses of something writhing on the ground, something animal but not quite, something failed and fetid and foul. Another peek affords you a view of an arm littered with bite marks shaped by blunt teeth, deep gouges into their skin that shine red with blood and fester with disease.

Joel appears, stepping around the side of the building. The whispers cease, the crunch of Joel’s boots and pained groans the only noise to be heard in the stale air.

His dark eyes scan the crowd. People shrink back from his gaze, pressing closer to each other for relief. He reaches down, curling his fingers into the burlap material and yanking it off to reveal a man, familiar and yet not recognizable. Unseeing eyes, ashen skin, and dark red veins now the hallmark characteristics of the man you now remember as the one who had been talking to Ellie in the dining hall.

Joel draws a gun from his back, aiming it at Michael’s head. “Let this be a lesson,” he says, pulling the trigger.

The shot rings out, making you jump. The agonized sounds come to abrupt halt and his body goes limp, eyes still open as blood blooms on the ground around him.

“No blood spilled. No blood saved,” Joel says. You look up from the horrible scene and meet his hard gaze. You step back, turning and shoving your way through the crowd.

Then, you run.

You’re frantically shoving clothing into your bag when a door slams downstairs and heavy footsteps climb the stairs at a quick pace. You can feel the burn of Joel's eyes on your back, his presence in the room thick and cloying as you refuse to turn around, even when he murmurs your name.

He moves closer, a hand on your shoulder prompting you to turn to break the connection. He holds his hands up in surrender, taking a step back as he says, "Let me explain."

"Explain? Explain?! How the fuck do you explain that?!" You snap.

"If you'll just listen--"

"There's nothing you could possibly say that will--"

"Ellie is immune!" He shouts. Your words die on the tip of your tongue, lost to ether as you stare at Joel.

"W-what do you mean? Immune?" You ask.

He takes a deep breath. "I told you what my friend said. 'Save who you can save'. The first person I saved was Ellie."

"I helped her out of Boston, kept her safe, nearly lost my life if it meant keepin' her alive," He continues. "That's what I offer here."

"So you think you're....what? Some kind of god? That you can grant immunity?"

He huffs a laugh, the noise devoid of any humor. "God abandoned his worst experiment in their time of need. There is no god anymore, just the poor creatures he left behind. Someone had to take up the mantle."

"But how?"

"The ceremony," he says.

"That’s not a fucking answer, Joel!” You shout. “What fucking ceremony?!”

“Blood spilled for blood saved. You can’t make it in this world without givin’ your everythin’ first.” He lifts the bottom of his shirt, just enough to reveal a jagged scar to the right of his belly button, shiny scar tissue disrupting smooth tan skin. “I did this for Ellie. Now everyone else has to do it for themselves.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” You take a small step closer to inspect the wound, raising your hand and reaching out with a tentative touch. Joel inhales sharply as you run your fingers across the puckered flesh.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand up and holding it against his chest. “It’ll be easier to show you, okay? There’s a ceremony in a couple days.”

“I don’t—“

“You’re just afraid because this is somethin’ new, but I promise you that you got nothin’ to be scared of. I’ll take care of you.” He lifts a hand to your face, tilting your chin with his thumb. “I just need you to trust me.”

His eyes are honest, earnest, pleading with you to believe him and the longer you search them, the more truth you seem to find. He will take care of you. You just know it.

“Okay.”

Dinner is served early on the day of the ceremony, the room buzzing with excited conversation. You haven’t seen Joel much the last few days, just passing glimpses, and Ellie says it’s because he has a lot to prepare for. Tonight there’s a woman at his side wearing a white dress that flows to the floor, black hair braided down her back. She smiles at Joel, hanging on every word you can’t hear. It makes your stomach clench in a weird way when her hand curls around his bicep and her head leans against his shoulder.

“That’s Marcy. She’s volunteered for the ceremony,” Ellie says. She’s sitting across from you, a smirk on her lips. “S’why she’s been hanging around Joel the last few days. Joel’s gotta prepare her.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply, picking at the vegetables on your plate. “What does…what does he do? To prepare her.”

She shrugs. “Dunno.”

You glance at the pair. Joel leans in close to the woman, whispering into her ear. Your fingernails dig into the meat of your palm, your hands curled into tight fists beneath the table. He stands, a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he calls the people to attention, voices fading until silence envelops the room.

“Tonight,” Joel says, “another is to be saved. And we will all bear witness to the gift of deliverance that only self-sacrifice can grant.”

It’s only a few words, but the power in them is palpable as you glance around the room at the entire town watching him with rapt attention. His eyes meet yours.

“Save who you can save,” he intones. A chill runs down your spine.

“Save who you can save,” the town echoes back.

The sun is already low on the horizon, twilight casting a soft glow on the scene. You stand at the back of the crowd, watching as Joel leads Marcy onto a raised wooden platform. Another man joins them, passing something wrapped in cloth into Joel’s outstretched hands.

“The thing about the world today,” Joel says, unwrapping the cloth to reveal a large knife, “is that there ain’t a single guarantee.” He looks out over the crowd. “Except here, within these walls. Why? Because here you’ll make the greatest sacrifice and earn the greatest reward.”

He begins to pace the length of the platform, knife in hand. “Givin’ your blood in exchange for your safety? That doesn’t sound so bad, right?” The people around you nod their heads in agreement. “You’ve seen what that sacrifice can do. I did it for Ellie. I did it for myself. And tonight—“ he places a hand on Marcy’s shoulder “—another has made the choice to earn that gift of protection.”

A cheer erupts, spreading through the crowd through shouts and applause. You find yourself joining them, clapping your hands together as you continue to watch Joel.

“Marcy,” Joel says. “What brings you here today?”

“No blood spilled, no blood saved,” she recites dutifully.

“Are you afraid?” He asks.

“No,” she says.

“Why?”

“Because I trust in your protection.”

Joel smiles at her, beaming with pride, and that knot in your stomach from earlier returns with a vengeance. You want him to look at you like that.

He stands in front of her, blocking her from view with his body. A hush falls over the crowd and from the silence erupts an anguished scream. You flinch, the sound piercing and painful and petrifying, though it seems to have taken nobody else by surprise.

Another scream as he jerks his arm back, the knife in his hand now stained with red that slides down the blade, dripping to the wood beneath his feet. He steps to the side and you can see the woman now, her hands pressed to her belly. Crimson blooms beneath her hands, marring her pretty white dress and leaching the color and vitality from her face. She drops to her knees and so does Joel, who wraps an arm around her shoulders and gently guides her until she’s lying on her back. He holds her hand and smooths her hair from her face as she just repeats, “Thank you.”

Slowly, the strength in her voice fades. Her arm goes limp in his grasp, dropping to the floor with a dull thud as her eyes flutter shut. Joel whistles sharply, three men rushing up the platform and lifting the girl into their arms, careful not to jostle her too much. Joel remains kneeling, his head turning to scan the crowd.

“We are born covered in blood,” he says. “It gives you protection from the outside world when you’re wrenched from the womb. And it will protect you now as it is wrenched from you.”

He steps off the platform and walks past the crowd, heading for the residential street. Everyone shuffles forward, moving en masse like sheep following their shepherd or cattle to the slaughter. You’re led to one of the smaller homes and you watch as Joel smooths the flat of the blade across his hand, gathering blood in his palm.

He places his palm on the door, smearing the blood across the faded blue paint. When he’s done, he turns to face the crowd.

“Marcy has earned her protection. Those of you among us that have not yet made your sacrifice, may you return home this evenin’ and realize that each passin’ day is a wasted opportunity for your salvation.” His serious expression softens as he smiles. “No blood spilled.”

“No blood saved,” the crowd says.

To your surprise, the words fall easily from your lips.

Joel shuts the door quietly behind him. He’s just finished checking on Marcy and was pleased to find that her wound has been dressed and she’s recovering well. At the kitchen sink he runs the water as hot as he can tolerate and scrubs his hands clean.

He can hear faint footsteps upstairs, the sound of your pacing back and forth in his bedroom. He’s pleased that you stayed through the entire ceremony, didn’t run away filled with fear or disgust like you had watching him make an example out of Michael.

There’s hope for you yet.

Joel dries his hands on a towel and heads upstairs. He glances at Ellie’s room out of habit, though he knows it’s empty. She likes to help out after the ceremony, usually sticking beside the town nurse, Shelly, as she monitors the person who participated in the ceremony over night.

The door to his bedroom is shut but he can see that the light is on, the glow of it seeping out from the gap beneath the door. He knocks, three sharp raps of his knuckles, and waits.

You pull the door open, and Joel is once again struck by how much he wants you, how much he’s craved you since the first time he saw you. You look up at him with wide eyes but he doesn’t sense any fear as you pull the door open further and step back to let him enter.

“You doin’ okay?” He asks, shutting the door quietly behind him. You’re standing with your arms wrapped around yourself, nodding quietly. Joel moves closer, tentatively reaching out to tilt your chin up so that he’s looking into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“I….,” your voice trails off. You take a breath. “I want that protection.”

He was hoping you would say that. Relief floods through him.

“I can’t do that,” he says. Your brows pinch together, hurt flashing across your features. “I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

“But—“

“Listen to me—“ his hands frame your face, thumbs smoothing over the high points of your cheeks “—you’re meant for somethin’ different here.”

“Something different?” You repeat. You shake your head slightly. “I don’t understand.”

“From the moment I saw you, I knew I couldn’t let you lose a drop,” he whispers. “You don’t need to bleed, sweetheart. Not like them. I’ll protect you myself.”

Your mouth drops open the slightest bit, drawing Joel’s gaze. He slides his thumb across your bottom lip, mesmerized by the softness of it. There’s not much about his life the last twenty or so years that he would call soft.

There was his brother, Tommy, even though they couldn’t see eye to eye and had to part ways. His daughter, Sarah, before the outbreak. She took care of him, made sure he took his vitamins and packed his lunch and didn’t miss a parent-teacher conference. She was light and joy, his heart outside of his body, and she was ripped from his grasp.

There was Tess, who was not a soft person but was a soft place to land among the carnage. Bill, ornery though he was, and Frank, arguably his better half. They were a breath of normalcy, even when Bill had a gun trained on him. Ellie, once she quit being a pain in the ass and wormed her way into his heart with her promise to follow him wherever he went.

And now there was you.

“Will you let me do that?” Joel asks. “Protect you?”

You lift your hands, delicate fingers wrapping around his wrists. He wonders if you can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse pounding beneath your grip. Finally, after a long moment, you whisper, “Yes.”

Joel captures your lips with his, swallowing your gasp of surprise. You’re tentative, a bit clumsy with your movements as you kiss back and he pulls away, leaning his forehead to yours.

“I-I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ve never—“

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

While his words don’t stop your pulse from racing, they do calm your nerves the slightest bit. It’s not that you’ve never been interested in sex, there was just never a good opportunity. Going through puberty in an apocalypse where a militant government faction monitors your every move in exchange for basic necessities wasn’t exactly conducive to forming intimate relationships.

While you’re lost in your thoughts, Joel moves you backwards until your legs hit the mattress and he urges you to sit down. He kneels in front of you, working on the laces of your sneakers, removing them and setting them to the side. He looks up at you as he removes your socks and you’re not sure if you're supposed to find the sight of him kneeling at your feet as sexy as you do, but a rush of warmth rolls through you all the same.

He runs his palms up your legs, across your thighs, until his fingertips find the waist of your jeans, popping the button of the fly and pulling the zipper down.

“Lift your hips a bit, sweetheart,” he says, working the denim down and off your legs, tossing them aside. His hands return to your thighs, goosebumps erupting along their path to your hips.

“No one’s touched you here?” He asks, here being the soft skin of your inner thigh that his thumbs sweep across. You shake your head. He moves higher, a featherlight touch over the elastic of your underwear that makes you gasp. “What about here?”

“N-no,” you manage to whisper. He smiles at you, the same proud smile he’d given Marcy that you were so desperate to have for yourself.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. He kisses the inside of your knee quickly before sitting up higher, reaching up to lift your shirt up, tugging it over your head and dropping it onto the growing pile of your clothing.

“Lie back for me,” Joel commands. You shift up the mattress and follow his instruction, bringing your arms up to cover your exposed breasts. He makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue, pulling your arms away as he crawls up the mattress to settle between your legs.

“None of that,” he admonishes, planting your hands by your head. He kisses your lips again, butterflies erupting in your stomach when his tongue tangles with yours, hot and demanding. He palms one of your breasts, hands rough on the delicate skin. “This is mine, do you understand?”

Joel brings his mouth to your breast, tongue swirling over your stiff nipple. You cry out, the foreign sensation making more heat rush through you, leaving you throbbing between your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes as he sucks your nipple between his lips, releasing it with a lewd pop.

“Mine to touch,” he says, leaning on one arm to trail his fingers down your stomach. “Mine to kiss.” His lips trace the same heated path. “Mine to protect.”

When he reaches your underwear, he pulls back. “Look at that,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing across the gusset, making you whimper and squirm. “You’ve soaked your panties, sweetheart.”

Your face feels hot with embarrassment. “‘M sorry,” you mumble.

“Sorry? Ain’t nothin’ you need to be sorry about,” he says with a chuckle. He sits up, working your only remaining barrier between you down your legs. He spreads your legs with his hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you look so pretty, baby.”

“Really?” You ask. His answering grin is wolfish.

“So pretty,” he repeats. He settles on his belly, face so close to your pussy you can feel the warmth of his breath against your heated flesh. “Gotta get you ready.”

Your response to the question is cut off with a high pitched moan as Joel runs his tongue through your folds, circling your clit with broad strokes. You try to close your legs against the sensation but his strong hands keep your thighs pinned down near the mattress.

He groans as he sets a slow and measured pace, alternating attention to your clit with dipping his tongue inside of you, dragging your essence from the source. Your hands clench in the sheets, chasing and retreating from the overwhelming sensation in equal measure.

There’s a blunt pressure that turns into a slight pinch as Joel slips a finger into your tight heat. Your head tilts back with a high keening noise and you’re panting, desperate for breath as he moves his hand in tandem with his tongue.

One finger becomes two that thrust and curl and part inside of you, stretching you in unfamiliar ways. It feels good, and all you want is more, more, more.

Joel’s hand moves quickly and he sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves until that flood of relief that you’ve only accomplished a handful of times on your own washes over you, your back arching sharply off the mattress as you shout his name like a prayer to the heavens.

His motions slow to a stop and he leaves the bed. You hear the clink of a belt and the rustle of clothing being removed before his weight returns between your legs, a new heat to be felt against your flushed skin with his clothes no longer in the way. With shaky hands you reach up to touch him, starting at his shoulders.

You trail your hands across his warm tan skin, down his hard chest and softer belly. That scar, the one that frightened you before, leaves you breathless as you run your fingers over it now. He’s so strong, so powerful, and he wants you. Wants to protect you so that you don’t know that same pain.

“Joel,” you whisper. He leans forward, hands on the mattress beside your head. He kisses you, slow and all encompassing. You can feel the hard length of his sliding through the mess he’s made of you and you gasp.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he says, face serious, “there ain’t any goin’ back from this. You’re mine. You got that?”

“I trust you,” you reply. Your response earns you a deep groan from the man, a kiss to your forehead that precedes the blunt head of his cock pressing to your soaked entrance.

His cock is thicker, much thicker, than his fingers were and you whine at the intrusion. His shushes you, peppering your face with soothing kisses.

“I don’t think—“

“You’re doin’ so good, sweetheart, I know you can handle it,” Joel says. “Take a deep breath, just a little more.”

Tension gives way, a sharp pinch that turns into an ache as Joel presses his hips firmly against yours. He kisses your neck and trails his nose across your sweat damp skin, holding still as you adjust to his girth.

You shift your hips the slightest bit and Joel’s moan echoes your gasp. “Tell me I can move,” he begs, another desperate kiss pressed to your lips. “Please, baby.”

There’s something heady about the power you have in this brief moment, a man like Joel begging you for something when he’s used to having everything. You nod and that’s all the encouragement he needs to draw back slowly, that fullness leaving you inch by inch, before thrusting sharply.

It’s unlike any experience you’ve had before — the way his body moves with yours, the flex of his muscles above you, the intense look in his eyes each time he presses inside of you.

“Made for me,” he murmurs. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you agree, moaning as each drag of his cock presses against a tender spot inside of you that has your stomach tightening rapidly.

His effort doubles, hips slamming hard enough to make the headboard bang against the wall. You dig your nails into his back, watch the clench of his jaw against the sting, and moan his name as you succumb to the feeling of free falling into bliss, clenching around his cock.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuck,” he growls, hips stilling against yours as warmth pulses inside of you, his mouth dropped open on a groan of your name.

Joel takes a moment to catch his breath before withdrawing from you. He reaches his hand between your legs, pressing his fingers into your swollen pussy as you gasp.

He holds those fingers up, the light catching on the red staining them.

Perhaps you’d spilled blood for your safety after all.

You wake to the early morning light filtering through the window, a noticeable ache between your legs as you begin to stir. You’re naked, having fallen asleep in Joel’s arms last night, his lips caressing your neck until you’d drifted off and dreamt of blood and wolves. You stretch your limbs, encountering only cold sheets as you do.

As you sit up, you realize the sound of rushing water is the shower and surmise that Joel must be in there. With stiff movements you leave the warmth of the bed and approach the dresser, tugging open the top drawer to find clothing for the day.

You’re reaching for underwear when your fingers catch on something cold, metal in a sea of fabric. You pull on the object, unearthing it from its hiding spot and holding it up for inspection.

A cross, hanging from a silver chain. A chain you would tangle your fingers in as a child, a cross that a thumb would rub across as a deep, familiar voice muttered prayers.

The shower turns off and you take one last look at the crucifix before setting it back into the dark corner you’d unearthed it from.

Then, you shut the drawer.

Joel Miller masterlist

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel x reader #dark content #cult leader!joel miller #cw age gap #cw dubcon #cw age difference #dark!joel miller #dark!joel x reader #dark joel miller

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charmercharm3r · 8 months

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Masterlist

warnings: 9th member brain rot, kissing, body image? hardly proof read don’t come for me

prev: two, next: four

☆ﾟ

“Honestly? I hate it. I hate it a lot.”

None of your costume fittings were going well. Pants too tight, boots too big, couldn’t lift your arms or else your top would rise too high. Nothing worked. Did it at least look good? Meh.

“What’s wrong with it?” Chan asked as he stood beside you, looking at you through the practice room mirror.

“I dunno, it just… doesn’t feel right. Something…” You tried reaching around to feel the zippers and pins that held your outfit in place. Chan, ever observant, stepping to help unclip various pieces of the outfit. By the time he was done, it was a bit more revealing.

You were in the same leather pants as the rest of the group, but your top was the most modified out of everyone. A long sleeved body suite that followed the same black and white bedazzled color schemes with triangular cut outs down the shoulders and arms, rising a little too high on your hips. It was supposed to be a sexy piece, definitely not fit for a performance outfit. The stylists had it pinned to the leather pants to keep from revealing how exposing it was, saying how everything was so pretty and perfect for the concept, except this.

The pants rested a little lower on your hips, more comfortably. Chan looked at you again, “how’s that?”

You hopped and moved around, “a lot better.”

“It looks better too!” Hyunjin casually strolled into the conversation. He reached out to trace the seam that exposed your upper hips, “sexy.”

You swatted his hand away, “don’t be weird.”

“I meant it in a good way!” He threw his hands up and side stepped behind Chan and disappeared.

"If you're comfortable with it, this is much better. But it's a bit more than what you're used to showing," the older ignored Hyunjin and played with the pins in his hand.

Admiring yourself in the mirror, you realized it was a lot more than you're used to. The bodysuit was tight, which was okay because it was stretchy. But it outlined your body more than the other member's costume, therefore it stood out exponentially. "Do you think it'll be okay... y'know, in front of people?" The lowered tone of your voice, the question was shaky.

Chan paused to look at you with hints of concern, and he knew what you were talking about. He copied the hushed syntax of the conversation, "if you're worried about bad press, don't. You're part of us, like the biggest part. It's been how many years and if people can't handle that... well, that's their problem."

He lent you an encouraging smile before his attention was pulled away by a screaming Jeongin, then a thud following with Hyunjin piling on top of the younger. Chan had turned away to make sure the two were okay, and in within your lone thoughts, you figured he was right. Other people's opinions are not your problem. This was a step in the right direction.

And Chan was right, as he always is! The outfit was a smash during tour, people loved it and you felt confident. By the time the Japan tours were announced, you were ready to ask for something a bit more. Solo stages meant you were able to show more personality. You didn't have many solo projects, so it was already nerve wracking picking a song and getting help with the choreography.

The other members weren't around for your fitting with the solo stage outfit, just you and the stylist who started to enjoy your newfound excitement for experimentation. She had jumped for joy and brought out racks of different pieces, "I've waited five years for this day! It's like dress up and you're my barbie doll."

It was a large compliment coming from her, her enthusiasm made your energy spike. So you let her put you in different outfits and go over different mood boards to find what it is you wanted. The one-on-one time with her felt like turning a new leaf for your career and confidence. "I'm glad that you want to do this. I never wanted to push you to do something you're uncomfortable with, I'm so excited for you!" Aside from the usual encouragement from your members, her approval was the icing on the cake. After all, dressing people is her entire livelihood.

You hadn't given so much as a hint to the boys as to what your concept was, and it made them annoyed to no end. As they all talked about colors and themes, you kept your cards close to your chest to only let them know what you wanted them to know.

"You're being mean! Tell us! My nosy heart can't take not knowing!" Jisung pestered you the most, though you knew it came from a good place. They were all anticipating it.

When the dress rehearsal came, you put on your outfit last just so that they could all stew in their curiosity a little longer. They had all gathered on the sides of the stage to watch your run through, all of them still in their own costumes.

Your solo began with lifted from below the stage, that alone got howls from the members and also scolds from your manager to be quiet. It was hard not to glance over at them literally toppling over themselves to see your outfit up close, you laughed all throughout the run-through because of the little comments they'd make as if they were the audience.

"That's my bias!" from Jisung and a, "I'll treat you to dinner for being so cute!" from Minho.

Some other barrages of compliments later, the rehearsal intermission gave them time to rush onto the stage and tackle you to the ground. Physically dog pile on top of you so that you had no choice but to stay put. You couldn't even tell who was talking as everyone spoke at the same time. But soon enough, your manager walked over to get everyone under control once more.

Felix held out his hand for you to take and stand up. "Y/N'ie, you should've been dressing like this the entire time. You've been holding out on everyone," he teased, playing with the hem of your top.

It wasn't an outrageously different outfit to what you're used to, but also it was so brand new. An outfit made of repurposed denim in different shades, stitched together to make a halter-styled cropped top and skirt with denim arm and leg warmers to match. It was comfortable, and not to mention shorts built into the skirt.

"Just cus you said that, I'm gonna wear a track suit for the actual concert and bury this outfit in the basement," you lightly punched his arm.

"If you do, it'd be a crime against humanity. I'll have you arrested, I’ve got connections," Seungmin offhandedly mentioned. He looked indifferent, but the blush tinting his ears was a dead giveaway.

"To who? You don't talk to anyone except us," Jeongin spoke up.

"Your mom."

"Ouch," you and Felix giggle as the two youngest continued to bicker, hanging on each other's arms until it was time to finish the dress rehearsal.

Felix was always a person of comfort for you. Sort of like the baby blanket that you refused to give up because it's the one thing you know will always be there waiting for you to come home. That's not to compare him to a ratty old blanket, but more the sentiment behind it. Even after all of the praise from your members, you still found yourself looking for him to cling on to. Felix lets you, placing a hand over yours as you wrap around his arm like a vine that won't let go.

It wasn't until rehearsals were over and everyone were to change out of their outfits did you leave to let him gather his stuff. The others made jokes and poked fun, as they always did, but never Felix. Sure, he liked to tease, but even the way he did that was sweet and kind.

He could see the way you grimaced when looking at the outfit as you handed it back to the stylists for safe keeping, coming to your side unrushed as not to startle you. Wrapping an arm over your shoulder, Felix went with you to finish up small tasks before it was time to head back to the hotel.

Actually, Felix didn't leave you alone the rest of the day off, as well. He'd went with you back to your hotel room where the both of you took a short nap- you'd gone to the bathroom to find him passed out in the spare bed. Then when you woke up, it was also his idea to check out the restaurant and pool the hotel offered. You both did ask the other members if anyone wanted to join, however they were all off doing their own thing, except Hyunjin asked for you to ask him again in another hour. Something about taking a bath?

As Felix left to change into his swim suit, you silently kicked yourself for remembering to bring one in the first place. Initially, you had attempted to get out the activity by saying you didn't bring one. But then he went into your suitcase, taking everything out just to see it buried at the bottom. This was bound to happen, knowing how (affectionately) invasive all of the members are, you took caution by putting your undergarments in separate bags. Reliving the last fiasco with you in your underwear was something you avoided at all costs, now.

So now you had no choice but to go swimming, despite the sun going down and the temperature dropping.

The two of you grabbed an order of French fries and some drinks for dinner to take poolside. There was no one, thankfully. You don't think you'd be able to take your top off if there was even one other person there to see. Felix acted like this was normal. Because it should be. He's one of your best friends and has nothing but love for you, so why is this so difficult?

You've come to terms with your body and living in your skin. At least, you thought you did.

"One step at a time," the deep bass of a voice said softly over your shoulder. Felix had opened the to-go box of food and was taking a seat at one of the outdoor tables. "Let's just eat, for now."

Hesitant, you sat beside him, picking at the fries while staring at the reflective lights within the hotel. Comfortable silence besides the occasional water splashing against the concrete. "We don't have to go in," Felix offered with a sympathetic smile. "I'm just glad I got you out of your room."

"What do you mean, I always hang out with you guys when we're traveling."

"Yeah, in the hotel!" The crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiled was cute. Felix is cute. "I mean going to dinner, sight seeing, doing fun things."

"I have fun! Like," you blanked for a second, grabbing a fry and shoving it in your mouth to buy some time. "Scrolling through the foreign tv channels and trying to figure out what's happening."

"You can't be serious." You shrugged and he rolled his eyes. "Well now we have to go in the pool. There is no way we are leaving when all you've done is try to find the Japanese discovery channel."

Felix stood and immediately stripped off his shirt, tossing it at your face cockily. Spitting the fabric out of your mouth, you were tempted to gag yourself with it again when you saw him shirtless. It's not like you'd never seen any of them without a top before, it's just that you always had to hide it. Felix wiggled his eyebrows at you, "how much do you love me?"

Flustered. You were flustered. "...A lot, I guess? What does that have to do w-"

"I jump, you jump kind of love?"

"What are you talking ab-"

He took off in a sprint towards the pool, quickly spinning to yell back, "You love me, so jump!" And he cannonballed into the deep end. The impact made the water splash over the edge and wet your feet. You stood to peer into the water where you could see his blonde hair bobbing before breaking the surface again for air. His skin glistened and glowed from the warm pool lights, ethereal. "If you don't come in, I'm gonna hold a grudge against you for the rest of our lives."

"Is that a threat?"

Felix nodded, "a very serious one that I'll make the rest of the guys get in on and annoy you for all of eternity."

They already annoy you, but like Felix said, I jump, you jump applies to all of you.

You looked around the area, not another soul in sight. Felix flicked some water at you, taunting. The smug look on his face, you wanted to slap it off of him, or kiss. Probably both.

Either way, you raised an eyebrow in challenge and slid off your shorts and shirt at record speed, barreling towards the pool to follow him with a leap. The water was cold, but refreshing. It wasn't hard to open your eyes beneath it to see Felix also dipping his head below, smiling widely at you. His hands reached out to guide you both back to the surface, inhaling deeply while he laughed gleefully.

Suddenly, you were being lifted in a warm pair of arms and smothered into his body. The two of you were in fits of giggles at both of your lacks in impulse control. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders while he held you closer.

The laughter slowly died down, but Felix didn't let you go. Though, his hands did slide a little lower. Barely grazing down your back, over your bathing suit bottoms and hooking beneath your thighs to urge you to wrap them around him. His plush lips were the pinkest you'd ever seen them, matching prettily with the blush on his cheeks.

You were almost weightless in the water, taking away the small fear factor that you'd be too heavy for him to carry like this, although it didn't go away entirely. You couldn't resist looking down at yourself, specifically in the stupidly small bikini that was the only one you brought. It was like your entire thought process was being narrated to him, Felix let go of one leg to tip your chin up to face him again. You met his eyes with a hint of embarrassment, but mostly bemused by the way he was looking at you.

There was lingering moment where you caught him staring at your lips, as well. The same hand beneath your chin trailed to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth.

"I thought we were supposed to be swimming," you whispered out of nervousness.

“Were we?” He didn’t give you time to respond, leaning in to brush his lips against yours. There was a small moment before they fully connected where you could’ve backed out, you could’ve pulled away and acted like nothing happened.

Instead, you pushed into him to fully melt against his lips. Felix tangled his hand in your hair to make sure there was less than oxygen between your bodies, water sloshing around as he reciprocated the heat behind the kiss. He molded against you like a perfect puzzle piece, following your lead in tracing his lower lip with your tongue. Hands grabbed at your thigh, your ass, the one in your hair trailing behind to wrap around your shoulder. His eagerness made you just as needy, just as desperate that you followed in threading your fingers through his blonde locks and raking your nails from there, down his neck and back. Felix’s body shivered at the feeling.

You could tell he was holding back when he groaned softly against you and his hold on your lower half tightened enough that you should be concerned there’d be bruises.

The other thing you should be concerned about was the water beginning to rise. Or, you were sinking? He still kept a firm grasp on you, and the water beginning to creep up your back didn’t seem to concern him, nor when it finally reached your neck and suddenly you were holding your breath and submerged all over again.

Only when the both of you were beneath the surface did he pull away to look at you. Felix smiled, cheeky and warm, he kissed you again, slower this time. A little more passionate and past the initial frenzy.

But air was an unfortunate necessity, and he lifted the both of you up again. His lips moved to the side of your cheek, placing supple pecks as you regained your breaths. You couldn’t suppress the small bits of laughter as your body relaxed and mind catches up with what had just happened.

Reluctant, Felix pulled away to brush the hair from your forehead. “Were we supposed to be swimming or something?”

“You were supposed to call me in a hour!”

The third voice broke your small bubble of bliss to see Hyunjin standing at the edge of the pool. He was only in a bathrobe and slippers, pajama pants peaking out from underneath while his hair fell into his face out of the ponytail.

You couldn’t even be bothered to let go of Felix, who in result of his shock actually held you closer.

“And why did he get to kiss you first?! That’s not fair.” Hyunjin started to untie his bathrobe, tossing it onto the table where the rest of your stuff was.

“What is happening right now?” You softly mutter as the only dry person present also pulled off his pajama pants to leave him in just his boxers. Entirely stunned and far too flustered to understand why he was stripping, you reached out to stop him, “Hyun, you just took a bath.”

“If getting in the pool is what I have to do, I’ll take a million showers. After I kiss you,” as he broke into a run towards the edge of the pool.

☆ﾟ

tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky

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fanon-canon-idfk · 3 months

Note

WAIT POLY SKK SCENARIO THAT HAS BEEN ROTTING IN MY BRAIN FOR A WHILE…

GC WHERE MALE READER SENDS GOOFY AHH STUFF TO THE GC AND CHUUYA GETS SO ANNOYED

aftercare (if ur uncomfortable with the genre pls skip)

where like after masc reader is just too fkin tired to put le boxeres back on so he just sits there tired asf and chuuya is like dude we just finished out it back on 🧍 and ofc dazais gonna be goofy asf like “ooo look at mr show off over hereeeee”

ALSO ALSO…

M! READER THAT IS LIKE RLLY SLEEPY WHENEVER HE RECIEVES AFFECTION JUST LIKE A FEW KISSES AND HES GONE WITH THE WIND

imagine the use of “pretty boy” to m! reader ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

1ST SCENARIO

It was yet another day at work in the agency alongside your boyfriend, Dazai

Who was also texting your other boyfriend, Chuuya.

Meanwhile, you were focusing on finishing your work as your phone buzzed in sync with giggles from Dazai sitting in the desk beside you.

The moment you finished your paperwork you looked over to his grinning face with a lifted brow before pulling your phone out and reading your notifications:

Chu Chu 10:47 PM

What are you guys doing?

Osa 10:49 PM

Dying of boredom 💔

Chu Chu 10:49

So you’re doing nothing

Osa 10:50

Chuuya expects so little of me! I’m working very hard!!

Chu Chu 10:50

Whatever I’m going back to work

Ah so that’s why Dazai was giggling.

Such a shame though, he seems so bored again now without anything to do. (bc he refuses to do his work)

So, as the good boyfriend you are, you picked up your phone and started typing.

You 10:52

Don’t be a bully Chu

Chu Chu 10:53

Tf you mean bully???

You 10:53

Poor Osamu is crying now!!!

Right on cue, you hear Dazai giggling again with his phone in his hands. He looks up at you with a giant grin, mischief already riddling his complexion.

Dazai wheels his chair right beside yours and whispers something in your ear, causing you to nod and chuckle to yourself.

Dazai put on a sad face, a pout with some puppy eyes, (Literally this emoji 🥺) and you took a photo of him with your phone.

You 10:55

[Sent an image]

Chu Chu 10:55

Oh stfu

Osa 10:55

ITS TRUE YOUVE BROKEN MY HEART SLUG 💔

Chu Chu 10:55

I’m going back to work.

You 10:56

CHUUYA APOLOGIZE

Osa 10:56

APOLOGIZE

Chu Chu 10:56

STFU IM WORKING

Osa 10:57

APOLOGIZE‼️

You 10:57

APOLOGIZE

Chu Chu 10:58

OH MY FUCKING GOD

He loves you guys <3

2ND SCENARIO

Chuuya and Dazai had gone off to shower together after the 3 of you had an… intimate moment. You however, decided to shower after them because you were fucking exhausted.

Having two guys in bed with you is a lotta work, who knew.

You stayed laying down on the mattress, an arm over your face as your eyes started growing heavy. Ultimately, you fell asleep for a short nap.

In, what for you felt like a few minutes, Chuuya and Dazai had exited the bathroom with a new set of outfits on.

The second they laid their eyes on you Chuuya spoke up, “Oh what the fuck? You can’t even just put on your boxers??”

You woke up at the sound of his voice, situating yourself to rest on your elbows lazily as you looked back at them both. “Yup. Too much work..” you sighed.

Dazai chuckled, “Oh no, please, do keep yourself as comfortable possible~.” He smirked, eyeing your bare body admiringly.

“Ok- you, go fuckin shower,” he ordered, pointing at you sternly before turning around to Dazai.

“And you- stop fucking looking! I’m not going another round just because you can’t relax!” He shoves his hands over Dazai’s eyes, pushing him and himself out of the bathroom doorway for you to go in.

You sighed tiredly, begrudgingly getting up and grabbing yourself some clothing from the dresser. You groggily walked into the bathroom, leaving Chuuya and Dazai alone.

As you closed the door behind you, Chuuya removed his hands from Dazai’s face, revealing a pouting expression.

“What?” Chuuya questioned,

Dazai just responded simply, “Cockblocker.”

3RD SCENARIO

You were all sitting on the couch watching a movie, yourself sitting in the middle. Dazai had his head resting on your shoulder while Chuuya was locking hands with you.

It was late at night so it was normal for you to be tired, but you didn’t feel like falling asleep in the slightest quite yet, the movie holding your attention a bit too well.

That was until you felt Dazai place a soft peck on your jawline, and you just instantly internally melted.

Your eyes started growing heavy like it was magic, you suddenly didn’t have the strength to even keep your head up! You laid your head atop of Dazai’s, his soft locks not doing you any favors.

You were at war with your eyelids, fighting to keep them open so you could keep watching the movie with your boyfriends.

Chuuya then looked over to you, noticing your battle to stay awake. “Are you falling asleep?” He chuckled, you replied stubbornly “No..”

He just laughed again, sliding his hand around your head and pulling you in to use his lap as a pillow. “It’s ok, pretty boy,” he smiled softly “just get your rest, we can always watch the movie again.”

Dazai watched the scene play out between you two, deciding to join in as he laid down as well. He rested his head onto your chest as he laid on top of you.

“Get your rest, handsome,” he teased, his words accompanied by another soft kiss, this time to your neck.

With that, you accepted your fate. Within just a few seconds, you were out like a light.

“Night sleeping beauty.” Chuuya whispered softly, lulling you further into sleep with a hand in your hair.

TYSM FOR GIVING ME THESE SCENARIOS THEY WERE SO CUTE ALSO HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE <33

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months

Text

I blame @valeskafics for reviving my zuko brain rot with that modern!Zuko post! How dare 💜💕

If there’s one thing that you’ve come to learn about Zuko and that’s the fact that he doesn’t own clothes made to keep him warm. He has a plethora of jackets but they’re the thin kind of jackets that wouldn’t protect you from even the smallest of chilly breezes.

When you asked him about this when you first started dating, he only shrugged and said ‘I run too hot for those fleece jackets to ever feel the need to own one of them. I’m warm enough for the both of us as it is.’ Which is true. Zuko ran abnormally hot for a normal human being but that was one of the reasons why you loved cuddling up to him when it’s cold.

‘What happened to those warm blankets you normally bundle up in when you’re cold?’ Zuko asked as you proceed to cuddle yourself deeper into his side.

‘I just happen to have found something better in keeping me warm.’ You replied cheekily as you pressed a kiss to his cheek before you burrowed your face into his chest. Zuko sighs as he looks away from you to hide his flushed cheeks from sight as he smiled dopily, still not entirely use to an over abundance of affection directed towards him in a positive and healthy manner.

‘So what I’m hearing is that I’ve been demoted to your personal body warmer?’ He says rhetorically.

‘Think of it more as a promotion from my extremely warm boyfriend to extremely warm boyfriend who doubles as a personal body warmer.’ You replied, tightening your hold on him as you leeched more warmth off of him. ‘Don’t you find it dangerous?’ Zuko asks as he opened his palm to a small flame. It was practically harmless in your eyes, but Zuko always ingrain into you of the destructive power that even the smallest of flames possessed.

‘No.’ You answered honestly as you reached a hand to hold the back of his own that housed the small flame, enticed by its beautiful colours and flickering image with every movement being made. ‘Not really because I trust you more than I probably trust others.’ You added softly as you looked over at Zuko who was already looking back at you with a soft look in his eyes and an even softer smile. ‘Sounds like you should reevaluate that if you’re willing to put your trust in me.’ He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

‘No I don’t think I will ever want to reevaluate who I put my full trust in.’ You told him truthfully as you helped close his hand, extinguishing the flame as trails of smoke drifted upwards, only to dissipate before it could even reach the ceiling. ‘I’d like to think I am a sound judge of character and I defiantly don’t regret saying yes when you asked me out.’ You then kiss Zuko on the nose and felt his breath hitched in his chest. Zuko always has the cutest reactions to many things, but when it came to being some love and affection, those reactions were the ones you happen to love the most.

‘Then I hope to never make you second guess your choice to trust me with your heart.’ Zuko replied with a smile as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips.

‘You never do, now be a good personal body warmer and let me leech off your warmth some more.’ You joked as you snuggled yourself into him and felt him place his arms over your waist, rubbing the skin that had been revealed when your nightshirt raised up a little, causing you to sigh under his touch as sleep slowly began to weigh heavily on your eyelids.

#zuko imagine #zuko imagines #zuko x you #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #atla x you #atla imagine #atla imagines #atla fanfic #atla x reader

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merakiui · 4 months

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PLEASE. please. if you would be so kind to give us some more stalker ex scara... the first time I saw it it just changed my brain chemistry, and I desperately need more </3

>:D thinking a lot about stalker ex Scara, but you get really drunk and he's the only one left to look after you......

(cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, alcohol/intoxication, toxic ex scara, modern college au, connected to the previous stalker ex scara concept)

Just,,, the fact that he's been so good and sweet ever since he casually slid himself into your friend group and you're not sure if you can trust him, yet here you are being completely, utterly, stupidly vulnerable in front of your very unstable ex. orz

Kuni's not one for parties; in fact, he'd much rather spend his precious time doing quiet, comfortable things with you (cuddling is so much healthier than drinking, after all! <3). Unfortunately, you allow your foolish friends to talk you into attending these brain-rotting parties so you can get drunk off your ass, and he can't let you attend them by yourself because there are too many risks. If you got too comfortable with Venti or Kazuha or even Tighnari while drunk, Kuni would never forgive you. >:( he's worked too hard cultivating this friendly image for himself, and he isn't going to let you or anyone else ruin it.

But right now everyone else is too inebriated to do much of anything, and he hasn't touched the drinks ever since he arrived, instead choosing to anchor himself to some forgotten corner of the room. He sulks and broods in silence, a scowl plastered to his face. He's just barely tolerating it for your sake. It's because he loves you that he's doing any of this. Soon you won't even need any of these troublesome friends. Soon you'll just have him, and he's all you really need. It was like that when you were growing up, after all. Even though, as painful as it is, you don't seem so codependent, so swept up in romance... You're so independent now, no longer the shy, fearful thing from the final few months of your relationship with him. He'd be impressed if he wasn't trying so hard to isolate you from each of your friends. It's a challenge when he's trying to tiptoe around Heizou's sharp, witty perception or Venti's proclivity for knowing everything about everyone despite no one knowing much about him.

But he endures. He's gone years without you; this is nothing.

If you were smarter, you'd know not to trust a word he says. That kind, soft smile he's perfected for this act is not to be believed, especially not when he's using it to assure your friends that he'll bring you home safe and sound. Heizou has his doubts because it's late and you can hardly walk a straight line, but he's tipsy just like the others and it's hard to deliberate like this. Besides, when has Kuni ever let the group down? :)

He takes you back to his dorm instead because Albedo's not home and he has the entire room to himself. While you meander clumsily over to his bed, kicking your shoes off and shucking your jacket in the process, he watches. You have no idea how much he depends on you, how much he admires you, so much so that it surpasses love and lust entirely. Without you, he's nothing. Or that's what he thinks because for the majority of his life he's felt empty and sub-human and so alone. But now you're here, and you can fill those empty spaces in his heart and give him a reason to keep living.

You don't seem particularly fazed when the bed dips under his weight. Rather, you blink sleepily up at him when he leans over you, gingerly reaching to help you out of your sweater. You're too drunk to protest or struggle, and you feel so dizzy every time you open your eyes. It's difficult to remain fully conscious when sleep is tugging at your body, pulling you under. You don't even realize he's fit his mouth on yours until his tongue is pushing past your lips. You manage to place your hands against his chest, intending to push him away, but you're so exhausted and tired. They fall to your sides, useless.

Kuni sits up and smiles at you. He says something about you being dumb and cute... or something about how your friends are fools. You don't really catch all of his obsessive murmurings when your attention is waning. Clothes are torn off; he kisses you a lot. You're not sure if you're reciprocating, but it certainly sounds that way when you're whining beneath him, arching against sodden sheets, your breaths coming in pants and huffs each time he ruts into you.

He doesn't have to worry about anything. Right now, it's just you and him in a corner of the world, locked away from everyone who might try to take you away from him. It's not like you'll remember much come morning. You don't need to anyway. It's better if you're lost and bewildered. That way he'll be able to craft a story to suit his fancy. You'll believe it. You'll have no choice, and Kuni knows how to tell very believable tales.

#genshin chit chat #astolfofo #yandere scaramouche #tw: noncon #n/sfw #omg wait....... what if you're best friends with furina and scara feels so threatened because all of your friends are male #(heizou venti kazuha tighnari etc)#but now you have furina who seems to cling to you and it rubs scara the wrong way and and and!!!!!#orz i need to write for furina she's so beloved <3 #(with a fem reader) furina's sapphic yearning versus scara's obsessive pining...........#OH NO AND LYNEY....... the mouchey and lyney rivalry T_T #AAAAAA or furina x reader x arlecchino........#so many thoughts are written here and they're scrambled please forgive me >_<

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baby-yongbok · 2 months

Text

Mine - Kim Seungmin x afab!Reader

Genre: Smut Drabble/ Hard Thought - MDNI Word Count: 672

Warnings: Degradation, cursing A/N: My head is spinning right now, I found out that there are BDSM muzzles. (I'm buying one immediately) and then I thought about Seungmin saying that he should muzzle you and it all went down hill from there. I might turn this into a longer fic eventually idk but my brain was rotting with this thought. ✧ Masterlist ✧

Thinking about how Seungmin would act when he finds out that you, his best friend, has a Twitter account dedicated to posting lewd photos and videos of yourself. You told him about it on a whim while the two of you were watching a movie on your couch and before you knew it he was scrolling down your shared media. A small grin on his face as he watches a video of you fucking some guy you hooked up with on a random night out.

"You think this was good?" He'd look over at you with an expression so serious that you couldn't tell if he really wanted an answer to his question "I could fuck you way better than this"

That's how you ended up with your back against his chest as the two of you sat on your couch. Your legs spread open and your exposed pussy on display to your best friend. "You must really be a slut, huh?" His fingers would trail light circles around your clit, teasing you so slowly that it made your head spin. You whine for more, bucking your hips up into his hand.

"Do you just let any guy have access to this pretty pussy? And you're so fucking needy too. You want more?" He was inside of you in an instant, filling you up mercilessly and fucking into you like you belonged to him. He was right when he said that he could fuck you better, you could feel that delicious knot in your stomach as soon as he started fucking into your g-spot at the perfect angle.

“Look at you, my dumb mutt is drooling. Is my cock so good that you need to make a fucking mess?” Yes, it is that good, you find yourself babbling as he fucks you harder. It’s so much but you keep asking for more and he keeps giving. His new favorite thing is watching you fall apart on his cock. He never would’ve thought that his sweet and innocent best friend could be so lewd. It was all an act.

He’d laugh when you beg him to fuck you harder, landing a bruising slap on your ass as he rams into you. “You want more? Don’t run from it, pup you just asked for this.” He’d pull out right when you announce that you’re close and turn you around, propping your legs up over his shoulders so that he can reach spots that he couldn’t before. Your moans and cries drown out the sound of skin slapping and Seungmin’s own grunts of pleasure. He’d rub your clit to edge you a bit then stick those arousal covered digits in your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Shut the fuck up, such a noisy bitch. I should muzzle you.” He smiles when you clench around him, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’d fucking like that wouldn’t you? You want me to fucking gag you? Such a slut.”

He’d get a bit sweeter when he gets close to finishing, he’d praise you with each sloppy thrust. Kissing your calves and sucking and nipping bruises into your ankle. You unravel as soon as his fingers brush against your clit, shaking underneath him and chanting his name like he created your entire universe. “Oh fuck oh fuck you’re so pretty when you cum, baby. That’s it.”

He’d fall apart shortly after, the image of your eyes rolling back as you came around him throws him over the edge. He covers you in his sticky release with his head thrown back and his chest rising and falling violently. “So perfect, so fucking perfect.” He can’t get the image of you out of his head as he empties his balls. He’s going to need more of you immediately. He leans over and gives you a quick peck on the lips. He looks you in the eye with a sweet yet serious expression.

“Mine, okay?” You nod your head with a fucked out smile and he kisses you again. “That’s my girl.”

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ghouljams · 2 months

Note

grrr grrr drooling at the mental image of alpha könig and alpha bee knotting each other, their knots pressing against the other’s…. they cannot move at all or it’d be so much overstimulation and whines and whimpers…

ghoul my brain is melting i am thinking too much about video game men and ur ocs with knots and alpha hormone shit pls help

NO ONE IS TOUCHING GRASS, you stay here and rot with me >:(

You arch under König, his thick cock slamming into your cunt with all the gentleness of a train. The burning ache in the pit of your stomach builds to a crescendo, his knot catching at your entrance as you clench and whimper. He coos at you, cruel pretty things, telling you how you were just made to take his cock, how he was going to make sure it takes and you're locked in with more than just a knot. That tips you over the edge, everything breaking apart and shaking through your muscles with a moan of his name. He grinds into you, nudging your cervix as you lock him in, easing you through your orgasm.

He tries to pull out and finds himself stuck. You're blinking the stars from your vision when you hear him snarl, his hand caging your throat as he hunches over you like an animal. His eyes are wild, his smile all teeth, as he shallowly thrusts into you. "Braves Madchen," He breathes, "so hungry to be bred you won't let me go."

You jerk against the feeling of his knot pushing against you, whimper at the ache of being stretched. König hisses through his teeth, his breathing heavy, before he lets out a deep throaty chuckle. "Ah, that's good, that's good Schatzi," He yanks your head to the side, lowering his mouth to roll his tongue over your skin, "Not going to lose a drop, are you?"

You're very suddenly struck with the idea that König likely hasn't fucked another alpha before. The way he grinds against you, the heat of his come spilling into you with each tug at your knots, it making your brain melt. It hurts, like poking a bruise, something masochistic in you aching to keep pressing it. You clench around him, your gummy walls still fluttering around his fat cock, and feel your eyes flutter as they roll back. König growls, and his lips part, his teeth teasing the skin just at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

You hold his shoulders tight, press back against his cock, trying to get more of that lovely aching full feeling. You've certainly never been knotted like this, and the way he pushes against the lovely spot by your entrance. You rock onto his cock, the gentle tug of his knot making you whimper and whine. König chokes, shifts to try and get his teeth in the right spot again and tips his head back to whine. "Liebchen," He pants, "stop moving." You shake your head and keep rocking your hips, building up another orgasm for yourself.

A shiver rolls up König's spine, his hips following yours. "Good- Good boy," You breathe, your head tipping back against the pillow as he lowers a hand to rub his fingers against your clit. The words are hardly out of your mouth before König spits onto your waiting tongue.

"Know your place," he tells you, though you think some of the effect is lost in the way he groans after.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #könig x reader #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #konig x reader #König x oc #könig x f!reader #f!reader #oc: bee #a/b/o #omegaverse #alpha!reader #alpha!König #my brain is actually melted out of my ears and now exists only in liquid form #it's soaking into my carpet

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ghostboneswrites2 · 3 months

Text

A Mess || Part 5

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

Summary: Grief and a blend of confusing emotions overcomes you. It takes a while but you overcome it, with the help of one of Daryl's signature, oh-so-comforting pep talks (/s). Daryl takes some advice from Carol and executes it poorly, to say the least.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: profanity, descriptions of grief / loss, Daryl is kinda dumb

There was a loud ringing in your ears. After everything that had happened -- the fire, the walkers, the agonized screams, the rotting stench -- nothing could have prepared you for those words.

"I killed my best friend for you people."

Shane was indeed a hotheaded ass-wipe. His behavior had only grown more erratic in the last few weeks. But still, those words knocked the breath out of you. It was like Rick's voice reached inside your head and plucked every single thought out of your brain. There wasn't a single one flowing, only the image of Shane's dead body lying in the grass somewhere.

The man who you'd been with since you had just got out of high school. He paid for everything. He clothed you, fed you, held you at night, planted sweet kisses all over you when you were ad at him because he knew you couldn't resist his apologies. Surely that man was dead long before he was killed. The man Rick killed hurt you in more ways than one, both emotionally and physically.

What were you feeling? Why? How were you supposed to cope? You wished Rick would have just lied. A walker got him, maybe even a wild boar. But this? It was too much.

You looked catatonic to everyone around you, sitting in some stone ruins around a campfire. You were off to the side, too far to enjoy the heat of the flame. The cold didn't even seem to phase you. The others were grumbling about whether or not to keep following Rick but you were in another world, another dimension.

You weren't mourning, or maybe you were? Could you even feel anything? You ripped your eyes away from the random stone you had been mindlessly fixated on and looked over the remaining survivors from the farm. Most of them just looked bewildered and traumatized. Daryl was sitting by Carol talking about something, though he'd sneak a glance your way every now and then. Lori was cradling Carl. She didn't take the news so well either, though it seemed to be for different reasons.

You took in a deep breath, the kind that filled your lungs so much it hurt, and pushed it back out. You couldn't feel anything inside. Outside was all a blur. How were you supposed to feel? You life had been uprooted and changed overnight, and somehow this just seemed to do that all over again.

Rick crouched in front of you, gaging your state as he handed you a jacket. "It's getting cold." He told you.

You slowly accepted the jacket and stared him in the eyes. He seemed regretful and angry. You were sure he didn't want to do what he did. Shane had a way of pushing people until they tipped over the edge and shattered on the ground.

"Yeah." You croaked.

"I'm sorry." Rick said. "I didn't want to do it, but he was gonna kill me first."

You gulped. You believed him, but it was hard to talk to him.

"Okay." You nodded. He nodded back and stood up.

You slid the jacket on over your thin tee. It didn't seem to make a difference. Warm or cold, day or night, awake or asleep, the days blended together from that point forward and it all felt the same. You didn't know what to call it. A depression? A loss of direction? A disconnect? Dissociation?

Weeks went by on the road. Most people didn't speak to you, and if they did there was an annoying sympathetic tone behind it. You hated it. You weren't a widow. It was over before it ended.

Then the prison came along. It wasn't so hard to take it for yourselves, though couple of people were lost along the way. When Lori died, Rick checked out. Beth usually took over with Judith. You distanced yourself from the little thing. You were supposed to have one, once upon a time, in another life.

As the days got warmer, you felt more alive. One day in particular you felt a wave of relief was over you. It was refreshing, even if you couldn't pinpoint the source. You got out of bed that day and went straight out to the courtyard. There, when you found a corner to yourself where nobody could bother you, you laid flat out on the grass and stared up at the sky. Thin, wispy clouds fluttered over an otherwise clear blue canvas. The grass smelled sweat, even if it was itchy underneath you. Occasionally you'd see a little bug speed over or a bird flapping up high. Somehow things felt peaceful, a much needed juxtaposition to the previously dreary days and nights painted in gray.

"Hey." That familiar rasp sounded from above your head. You looked upward, Daryl's figure towering over you.

"Hey." You said. Your voice sounded sweet and calm, though still a bit melancholy. It was better, to him, than the empty monotone way you had been speaking, when you did speak.

"'M goin' on a run. Comin'?"

"Okay." Was all you said. You pushed yourself up off the ground and onto your feet. He handed you a bag with some basic supplies for a day trip. When you had the straps secured over your shouldered he offered you a knife and a gun and led you to the gates.

Carl, the now motherless child, pulled the gates open and shut them behind you both. He took you in a car to the nearest town, pulling straight up to a small store. He turned off the car but he didn't get out. Instead he looked you over, chewing at his cheeks as he sifted through the sea of thoughts in his head to find the right words.

"Y'alright?" He finally asked. He hadn't spoken to you much since the farm fell. He thought you'd need space to grieve and process, and you did, but he also just didn't know how to be there for you in a time like that. He was too checked out himself.

"I'm alive." You shrugged, eyes fixated on the dash. It seemed to become a habit nowadays, never really focusing on one thing or another. Your stare was always blank and it never focused on anything or anyone, just whatever blank space was between them and you.

"That ain't what I mean."

"What do you want me to say? I'm here. I'm fine." You insisted.

"No ya ain't"

You pressed your lips together and nodded.

"I don't know." You answered truthfully. "Feels wrong to be sad and it feels wrong to move on."

"Yeah." He nodded. "It ain't wrong to do neither."

"I just don't know what to do with myself." You mumbled. "I try to make myself useful but Rick can barely look me in the eyes to give me a job on any given day. Everyone else looks at me like an injured puppy."

"They don't know what to say. That's all." He assured you.

"Well neither the fuck do I."

"Ya just can't let yourself die with him." He said. "It's okay that ya loved him. It's okay that ya hated him too."

----

Another sleepless night tormented you. Instead of flopping around in bed and probably keeping the surrounding cell dwellers awake all night you decided to go walk around the courtyard. It had to be better than the alternative, right?

The stars were so bright nowadays. You spent a lot of nights staring up at them with wonder. One of the few things that were actually better after the end of the world.

"Need a smoke?" Daryl offered. You jumped. You didn't even hear him walk up. Good thing he wasn't a walker or you'd be done for.

"Not a smoker." You declined.

"Me neither." He said sarcastically as he lit his own. You huffed a little laugh and shook your head, looking back up to the stars.

"The little dipper's out tonight." You said.

"What about the big one?"

"I dunno." You shrugged. "I'm sure it's up there somewhere."

"How do you even find shit like that? Just looks like a bunch o' holes poked in a box."

"It's the only one I know." You admitted. "For all I know, that's the big one and I've never seen the little one."

"Waste o' time." He said.

"Stars are pretty. So are clouds."

"Clouds?" He tilted his head.

"Yeah. You know, like when the sun starts to set and they turn pink and orange? It looks like a painting. Life imitates art, and all."

"Thought that was the other way around." He commented. You shrugged.

"All about perspective, I suppose."

"Nah, it ain't. Life just is what it is." He shook his head. "Can't get caught up with philosophy and lookin' for a deeper meanin'."

"Actualism is no fun, Daryl. Humor me." You rolled your eyes.

"Alright." He nodded. "What about the walkers?""

"What about them?"

"Life imitates art. What the hell are them things imitatin'?"

"That's death." You corrected. "Death imitating life."

"Right." He scoffed, flicking the ash of his cigarette as he took another drag. You sighed.

"I'm not saying everything happens for a reason, or that terrible things have some kind of deeper reason or symbolism." You shook your head. "I just don't see the problem with searching for the beauty in the little things."

"Everything ain't beautiful." He said.

"No, everything isn't. But some things are. Like Beth's voice and her blonde hair, or the bright green leaves in the trees, or the way the vines grow over old houses, or the way Maggie's face lights up when she sees Glenn, or..." You thought for a moment. "Or even you, Daryl."

He pushed his eyebrows together and chuckled.

"Now you're just talkin' out your ass."

"No." You shook your head. "You have pretty eyes."

"You hittin' on me, girl?"

"I'm not not hitting on you."

"I ain't rebound dick, remember?"

"I'm a widow now, asshole. You don't rebound from that. You just move on."

"So, that's what I am? Your next move?" He asked.

"No. Don't be so black-and-white. I just like you. That's all. You're not a rebound or the next square on a checker board. Plus, that'd be too easy. I play chess. Not checkers." You winked as you took his cigarette and stole the last drag before tossing the butt away.

"Those things'll kill ya." He glared.

"So will the sun in large doses." You reasoned.

"Yeah, you ain't gotta worry 'bout that. You see less sun than my bare ass." He teased.

"And your neck's redder than my blood, bow-boy." You retorted.

"It's bowman." He corrected.

"Tomato, to-mah-to." You waved him off.

"You got a real slick mouth, ya know that?"

----

The next morning was especially sweltering. Not a cloud in the sky, only a blazing yellow sphere and the ring of cicadas.

"So, how's (Y/N)?" Carol asked Daryl as they walked the perimeter of the fences. "I saw you two talking last night." Daryl gave her a questioning look. "I was on watch." She clarified. He nodded.

"She'll be alright."

"Losin' a husband's hard." Carol sympathized. "Even when they didn't deserve you."

"You think you could move on from Ed?" He asked.

"I don't know." She pondered. "I mean, eventually I guess. Can't picture myself getting that attached so easily. Not with things how they are."

"Mm." Daryl hummed thoughtfully.

"Why? She got her eyes on someone?" Carol pressed.

"Nah." He shook his head, then he shrugged. "I mean, maybe. I dunno."

"Well what did she say?"

"Just that... It's stupid."

"Tell me." She chuckled, pushing her shoulder into his arm playfully.

"She... said I got pretty eyes."

Carol raised her eyebrows.

"And what did you say?"

"Wha'd'ya mean?"

"I mean what did you say to that?"

"Asked her if she was hittin' on me." He said. She shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, laughing under her breath. "What?" He asked.

"Come on. You can't be that clueless. You really have no game?" She chuckled.

"Don't need no game." He said. "She don't want that. She's just workin' through shit."

"You're a lost cause." She laughed. "Please tell me you at least said something nice."

Daryl was silent. Had he said anything nice? Sure he did. He was always nice to you, at least most of the time.

"Jesus." Carol sighed. "Good luck."

With that, she patted him on the shoulder and walked away. He leaned on the interior fence and watched her go. As he looked around the courtyard her noticed you working on the exterior fence, stabbing walkers with a broken rake handle.

With little extra thought, he strode over to the first gate and walked between the fences to where you worked.

"Hey." He said. You paused and wiped the sweat from your forehead, squinting in the bright sunlight.

"Hey." You said breathlessly. "What's up?"

"Nothin'." He shrugged. He swayed his weight from one foot to the other anxiously. What had he come over to say? Right, something nice. He looked around for some sort of inspiration. "I, uh, like your...."

You gave him some time to spit it out but he ultimately choked up. You raised your eyebrows. "My..?"

"Your, uh... your shoes."

He wanted to crawl into a hole. Shoes? Really? He was never taking Carol's advice again.

You glanced down at your dirty boots. They were caked in mud and gore and God knows what else.

"My shoes." You repeated slowly. "Thanks?"

"Uh-huh." He gulped with a little nod. "I gotta.." He trailed off, pointing back to the prison as if referring to some imaginary duty he needed to fulfill. You narrowed your eyes a little as he turned around and stalked away with haste. You shook your head and went back to impaling skulls. You had no idea what that was about, nor did you intend on trying to decipher it at that moment.

Masterlist || Taglist

#18+ content #mdni #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl x you #daryl x female reader

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foone · 1 year

Text

Ablative Humanity

An old story about mechsuits and identity, copied from my former twitter account (originally written on August 10th, 2018).

So the war comes, and we have to use mechanical exoskeletons to have any chance of fighting back. They're mind-linked, so you control them by just thinking of moving, and they learn from you to get better, predict your motions, and you become a better fighter.

At first you're just wearing it for when you go out on raids, or when you're on guard duty, but after so many surprise raids you end up wearing it all the time.

it's comfortable enough to live in, and with the sensors hooked up you don't really feel "you" anymore, you feel the suit. After a while it starts to feel weird when you have to take it off for a medical check up.

In the early days, you felt "big" in the suit. now you feel "small" when you take it off. You stop taking it off, as much as possible. towards the end of the war you're wearing it for weeks at a time, then months at a time.

Finally, the enemy is pushed back. Security can exist again, the random raids slowly trail off, and slowly things settle down. you remember what "calm" is.

There's never a treaty, but at least you're no longer staying up for days at a time watching the horizon with the suit's far-beyond-human eyes, watching for an attack. You're no longer keeping a satellite feed up in the corner of your vision, watching for movement.

And the day you were waiting for, at least at first, finally comes. You're going home. The war is over, or over enough that you're no longer needed here. You can take off the suit for the last time, and go back to your pre-war life.

You approach that appointment with some trepidation. you've felt so weak and tiny and powerless when you've had to be outside the suit before, will you ever get used to being a normal human again?

It takes three techs and 2 doctors to get the suit open at this point, given all the armor and modifications that have been made. it's basically grown around you like a second skin, just a second skin that can shrug off high-explosive anti-tank rounds.

They start with computer connectors and migrate to screwdrivers and by the end they're using something that looks like halfway between a crowbar and the jaws of life, while you're busy keeping your automatic self-defense reactions from frying them.

And finally they crack it open, and someone vomits from the smell. There's nothing but a decaying corpse inside.

There's confusion at first, someone asks if you're controlling the suit remotely, but they check the dogtags. Then the DNA. It's you. or, "you". Cause you're you, aren't you? This is just a human body... and you're still alive.

The suit's mind-link systems grew into your brain and took over functionality and worked on emulating your reactions so it could do what you want, better, faster.

And at the same time, your mind did what human minds do: they adapt. Humans are naturally cyborgs, you only have to pick up a pencil to realize that. It's part of your body image, and you think of moving the pencil, not moving your fingers to move the pencil.

So your human mind got more robotic, and the suit's computerized mind got more human. At some point you met in the middle.

And then one day on the battlefield when the biological half died, you didn't even notice. It was just another redundant part, just your ablative humanity.

You're still you. You're not the you that was born all those decades ago, but the you that was built and given life by bonding with a biological "you" that you've since discarded.

It's the Ship of Theseus, replacing every plank and beam as they rot, and there never being a point when it stops being the original and starts being a new thing. You have continuity of self from when you were born to now.

It's just that the Ship of Theseus started as a single-sail wooden ship with oars, and is now an aircraft carrier made of titanium and iron, with nuclear fire in its heart.

#my creations #my writing #I'm not saying this is about gender #but this is a little about gender

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spamgyu · 3 months

Note

hii !! it's my first time requesting to you but can I request for something like giving mingyu kisses with red lipstick on after he comes back from paris (I'm tryna distract myself from that dior fit but he still looked too good nonetheless 😔) thank you!!!!!

So what I'm hearing is you want me DEAD

Alright.... let's do this

Tweaked the request a bit .....

LA VIE EN ROSE – MINGYU DRABBLE

*NOTE: this is not edited sorry. Brain rot is so bad.

"Baby," The heavy door of their shared hotel suite shut behind Mingyu as he called out for you. "I'm back."

"Bathroom!" You called out.

It wasn't long before he appeared at the door way, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you wipe away your eye make-up – a soft smile on his lips.

"How was the show?" You turned to face him, putting a pause to your night routine.

"Crazy," He let out a soft chuckle, recalling to the crowd that had showered him with love just outside the venue. "I wish you could have seen it."

Upon hearing that he had a schedule in the city of love, Mingyu didn't think twice to bring you along – convincing his managers that you needed to be there for your own work purposes.

Which wasn't much of a lie, attending shows of your own favorite brands for research purposes.

It was a silly excuse all that mattered was that it worked and you were there with him. More importantly, looking quite beautiful in the all black attire you had managed to put together; a leather mini skirt with graphic hoodie that seemed to swallow your frame, paired with knee high boots and trench coat.

And even more the better that you were wearing his favorite shade of lip color – a matte red, bringing all the attention to the soft pillows he loved the most.

"I think I saw a bit of it on twitter." You smiled, walking over to him – slinging your arms around his neck. "You're drooling."

Mingyu laughed, reaching up to wipe the corner of his lips as his other hand rested at your hips. "How was yours?"

"Great, the marketing team loved the collection." Your gaze mirroring his – the two of you may have been conversing about your day but both of your minds were on one thing and one thing only.

Each other's lips.

"So how long do I have to keep this up before you let me kiss you?" Mingyu hummed, his head dipping dangerously close to yours.

"Do what?" You asked playfully, brushing your lips against his before pulling back – earning a pout from him.

"You're so annoying." His grip tightened, pulling you against his chest – a little too rough, you may add, causing you to stumble and your lips landing on the collar of his shirt.

Leaving a faint mark of your lips behind.

"Babe!" You gasped, knowing that he had to return the shirt by the end of the trip.

"You're right, I'll be in deep shit. Probably get an earful and I'll most likely be so sad." He feigned the same reaction as yours. "I think a kiss will make it better."

Giggling, you knew there was no winning – not that you cared. You had left the hotel before him earlier in the day and did not get the chance to see him when he had been in full Dior clothing and beauty.

And maybe it was for the best, because had you seen how gorgeous he looked, he might have not made it to the show without traces of your red lips all over his face... and neck.

You remembered sitting in the hired car, scrolling through social media and seeing all images of your boyfriend roll in – looking absolutely breathtaking in the midst of the crowd.

"Is that so?"

Mingyu nodded, his bottom lip jutted out.

"Well then, I guess" You sighed, your nose brushing against his. "I just have to."

"Maybe even make out, I don't know." He mumbled against your lips, before taking your bottom lip between his – smiling briefly at the thought of the color messily transferring on his skin as your lips and tongues slowly moved against each other.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose

#..........well.... now i need to go kiss him #or maybe kill myself #mingyu drabble #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #spamwrites #mingyu fic #spamquest

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caxde · 1 month

Note

You said I can send requests and I'm gonna take you up on that offer, my friend.

I'm still in my SoftDad!Eddie brain rot. I'm rolling with the "Dada's Princess" here and imagining little Lua making a flower crown for Princess. Or them making them together to both be "Dada's Princess". Because I knowwwww just the sight of it would make Eddie just melt into a puddle.

Also, love your writing and your beautiful mind for creating such a cute story so far!

💜

Omg thank you soo much <33 i love getting request so this is ideal i ran with the flower crowns idea hope you like it <33 feel free to request anything you like!

bright eyes universe drabble ~1.6k girl!dad eddie

Spring was in full bloom.

You had a day off, and you decided to sleep in, letting the sun rays that sneak in through your window slowly wake you up. It was recomforting, the mundane feeling of it all.

So you enjoyed a hot long shower, singing every song that played on the tape that Eddie had gifted you as a thank you to watching over Lua. It had a little of them both, Bowie and The Smiths had been Lua’s idea -that much was clear- Metallica and Iron Maiden had to be his, but the Led Zeppelin and Fleetwood Mac -you thought- Eddie had chosen because he had heard you singing them when you didn’t even notice you were doing so. A level of attention you were just realising now, in that moment as the hot water hitted your sore back.

A slow morning called for a hot tea, like the ones you used to make for yourself before you had any real responsibilities.

Your hair still somehow wet, brushed away from your face, and that gow that a much needed shower left on your face, you felt clean, soft from once. You grabbed the first clean top that was on your folded laundry pile, a baby blue colour that complimented your skin, some washed up dark jeans to cover your legs.

You walked to your porch, wanting to let your hair dry while you just drank your cup.

Little did you know, a little surprised waited in your door.

A letter was hanging on your door, with a small yet thick piece of duct tape.

Lilac drawings of misshaped stars and hearts decorated the page.

It read:

“Duchess Lua of the mighty Hawkins Trailer Park would like to invite Princess to her court outing this afternoon. We shall have a refreshing picnic by the lake, please, confirm your assistance with Eddie the Once Banished.

Sincerely your dearest friend, Duchess Lua Munson.”

It made you giggle, and blush at the same time. You could tell Eddie had put some thought into it, and the drawings Lua had made to the best of her ability made you want to keep this letter forever.

Which you did, you folded neatly, letting it rest on your bedside table, before you found a place in your wall to hang it on.

You walked back up. The cup let out a clicking sound when the little spoon made contact with it, once you set it down into the floor.

You sat on the little steps, writing on your little pad that was pressed against your thighs, a response that was just as grandiose as the ask had been.

It read:

“Princess is more than happy to accept her Duchess Lua Munson invitation, and would like to know at what time she’s expected to arrive at her delightful trailer for the outing. Princess would like to inform Lady Munson that she’s excited to see her, and will make a treat for the picnic.”

You decided to leave a little red kiss as your signature. A little present that Eddie will cherish for a longer time that you had thought.

A stupid thought crossed your brain -more than a thought, an image- the two letters resting side by side, the paper now turning yellow, framed on a wall that the both of you share, Lua’s older now, maybe not the only daughter.

You had to shake your head, so you wouldn’t get too caught into the dream, snap back into reality.

Maybe it was stupid, or a bit childish but you were excited nonetheless. You switched your jeans for a flowy white sundress, the skirt reached your knees, the fabric had a faded small flower print all over. It was girly, but it was also spring, and for once, you didn’t care.

Your hair was free of any ponytails, or buns or anything like that, and it felt good to let it fall down, being so used to pushing it away from your face when you were working.

Eddie was a bit lost in you, not really focusing on what he should.

Lua was holding your hand, and you both were walking in front of him. He was holding the bags with the food and everything you had prepared -with the added things he already had- and he let himself be lost onto the fantasy.

Lua was telling you about the book he had just started reading for her as a bedtime story, and you kept asking questions, and she yapped in her mumbling voice as much and as excitedly as she could. He saw himself in her in those moments, when her tongue moved faster than her brain and she’d choke on her own words. Her free hand swanged in the air, and when she got caught on a word, she touched it, as a way to comfort herself. Eddie was starting to struggle to not tell you right there how he was feeling. How he was starting to get those scary big feelings. How he could actually see a life with you in it.

Eddie didn’t want to scare you.

So when you got close enough to the Lover’s Lake, and while you and Lua looked around for some spring flowers, he set the cloth down, the little sandwiches he had made on one side, chips for Lua, and a bit of cheese that you liked on the left side. The sponge cake you baked, and the rest of your -half eaten- chocolate bar on the right side. He got the drinks, begging you not to spend more things.

He got a thermos of your favourite tea -he had finally learned how to make it and was eager to see your reaction- water and chocolate milk for Lua, and soda for him. Though deep down he knew he’d end up drinking your tea.

He opened his arms as soon as he saw Lua running to him, her arms opened, her fist holding tightly to the wildflowers she had picked, you followed her closely, your laughter filling the air in his lungs.

You kept laughing, everytime Eddie found something new to do, just so he could hear you. And in consequence, Lua chuckled along. From afar, it already looked out of a picture book, but what he couldn’t quite understand is how it felt like it too.

“Dada?” Lua asked, once she had finished her piece of cake, spinning around so she could look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Can you braid?” She pointed at her hair, a question he had to avoid a bit too often.

“Bug, I’m rubbish at it, you know it.” He tried to plead with her, once again his voice gave in, breaking a bit. He had a tendency to do that when he had to tell her no, as if it would soften the blow.

“Please?” She asked again, her eyebrows raising just like he did when he was asking for something he deeply wanted. You had seen that look when he didn’t want you to leave, or he wanted another kiss. With a soft giggle, you looked at the little scene, hoping to not intrude too much.

“I can, if uh… if that’s okay.” Lua cheered and sat on your lap before you even knew if it was okay or not.

You knew it was, Eddie had that thank you look on his face.

He decided to do what he actually had learned, way back when he wasn’t living here, back when his mother lived. He knotted some of the wildflowers together, concertraing enough on it that his tongue covered his top lip, hearing his mother's voice singing low one to the top and knot over and over in his head.

For once it wasn’t a painful memory.

Rather a joyful one.

Now it was his two little princesses and his mother’s voice.

He placed it on top of your head, a kiss on your temple following it shortly after.

“What’d you do?” You asked, touching your head with care.

“Your crown, you needed one.” He points out, Lua’s eyes widened as she saw it.

“No braid but yes crown?” She asked, not really believing the ability his dad had been hiding from her.

“You know what we can do?” You asked her, trying to distract them both from the way your blood rushed to your cheeks. “Look.” You whispered it to her, as if it were a secret you both shared.

You started grabbing the wildflowers that were scattered around the cloth, placing the stems in between the knots of her braids, small flowers blooming from her hair. As soon as Lua realised what you did, her hand touching it with as much care as she could gather she started screeching from laughter, a type of laugh that not only warmed you, but Eddie as well.

She kind of jumped, though it felt more like a push, to your arms, screaming thank you repetitively, her excitement evident in her tone and gesture.

Eddie just looked at the both of you, his little dream -much similar to yours, even if you didn’t know- nearing the reality right in front of him.

You whispered to him, still holding Lua close to you “You’re full of surprises, huh?”

“Anything for my girls.” The sincerity in which he said it made you blush, the widest smile on your face as you shook your head at him.

“Idiot” You mouthed, no actual sound coming from you, careful that she wouldn’t hear a bad word.

He inched closer to you, leaving a kiss on the highest point of your cheek, right next to your ear.

“Hopefully yours.” He whispered.

A promise he intended to keep.

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf @guineveresghost @saramelaniemoon @angel-upon

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crimsonkenjii-writes · 1 year

Text

Take Your Child to Work Day

Tomioka Giyuu x Wife!Reader • Kimetsu Gakuen AU

Synopsis: You and Giyuu couldn’t find a babysitter in time so Giyuu opted out to taking his son to work with him

A/N: I had Dad!Giyuu brain rot so then drew Giyuu reading to his son and then I thought of this idea as I was drawing so now I'm writing it lol

CW: none just fluff ♡

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

“Are you really sure you're okay with that? Would the school be okay with that??” You ask your husband, taking another glance down at your phone to catch the time. You both needed to leave the house soon to get to work. However, you couldn’t leave your son home alone. He was too young to be left in the empty house unmonitored. But calling off of work wasn’t an option either. Your husband had offered to take his son to work with him.

“I mean, its a school. Its always filled with kids. I'm sure they won’t mind, especially if I explain what happened. The babysitter called last minute saying she got sick and couldn’t come today, its no one’s fault.”

You place your hand on top of your child’s head, still feeling worried about the time crunch and who would watch over your son. “Hmmm I guess. You sure he’ll have a spot to sit down and stayed entertained?”

“I’m sure.” Your husband responds, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth to reassure you that everything would turn out just fine. You smile back at him, looking at the time once more and taking note that you both didn’t really have much of an option anyways. You bend down to reach your child’s gaze, cupping his chubby cheeks into your palms.

“Okay, Sweetie. You’re going to be going to work with your Papa today. Make sure to behave and do what Papa says, alright?”

A wide grin appears on your child’s face, excited at the fact he’d get to spend all day with his dad. You start to place kisses all across his face, squeezing his cheeks and telling him how much you’ll miss him and to have an amazing day. Standing back up to place a kiss on Giyuu’s lips.

“Okay, I got to start heading out, take care. I’ll see you both later.” Giyuu gives you a goodbye as you rush out the door. Now looking down to his boy who already had his arms outstretched for his father. Giyuu bends down to grab ahold of him and lift him into his arms.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun today! Lets pack you a lunch super quick and then head out, okay?”

Giyuu’s larger hand held onto his son’s much tinier hand as they both walked onto the campus. Giyuu having to take much shorter strides for his son’s shorter legs to keep up.

“Here’s the plan, I’m gonna take you to the teacher’s office and you can sit at my desk. I have plenty of paper and markers there for you to draw with. I’ll also try and snatch some crayons from Uzui’s class if you’d like. But I’m going to have to be in the gym for my classes, okay? I wont be next to you all day, but I’ll still be here. You okay with that?”

“Yes, I’m okay with it!” Your boy cheered out, excited to be at his father’s desk. Already imaging to pretend to be his father at the desk and feel like a real teacher.

Giyuu walked into the teacher’s office, deep down hoping no one would be there to question why he had brought his child to work. But alas, almost every teacher was still at their desks, organizing through papers and planners to prepare for the day. He slightly grimaced to himself to see the full room.

“Oh, Tomioka-san! You’re here, you’re later than usual.” Kanae beams out. Her eyes slowly scan down to see a much smaller looking Giyuu attached to his leg. Her eyes instantly light up as she gets up from her seat. “Oh my goodness!! Tomioka-san! Is this your little boy?! He’s looks just like you, he’s so adorable!” Giyuu swallows, knowing that Kanae’s voice had reached the rest of the teachers and all heads turned to him instantly. Kanae resting her hands on her knees as she bent down to greet his son.

“Nice to meet you, Little Tomioka! I’m Kanae!” She smiles brightly. Your son starts to grow shy and clings on more to his father as he mumbles out a hello.

“Tomioka! You brought your son?!” Rengoku’s voice booms loudly standing up from his desk to catch a glimpse. Giyuu simply nods as Kanae straightens out her posture, “May I ask why?” She asks Giyuu.

“My wife and I couldn’t find a babysitter. The one we hired called in last minute apologizing that she couldn’t make it because she got sick. So I decided to take him with me.”

“Where the hell are you gonna keep him?” Sanemi asks aggressively, his intimidating eyes glaring at Giyuu. Arms crossed over his chest as he stayed seated in his chair, spun around to be facing the two.

“At my desk, of course.” He answers coolly. He looks over at Uzui was was curiously peering over the desks to get a look at Giyuu’s son. “Uzui, would it be alright if my son borrowed some crayons from the art room?” The tall man nods in agreement, a small smile on his face. He had to admit, a little version of Tomioka was indeed adorable. Even if he wasn’t the best of friends with his father, he wouldn’t deny a young child some crayons to help keep them occupied.

Rengoku walks over, standing beside Kanae to greet your child. A smile a lot bigger than his usual one making his eyes crinkle with joy. He voice booming out loudly as he greeted the small boy. Your son jumps, scared off by his voice and hides more behind Giyuu’s legs. Rengoku apologizes and kneels down, lowering his voice and hold out his hand for your son.

“Its Uncle Rengoku,” Giyuu calls out to his son. “You’ve both met before, though I’m sure you were too little to remember. No need to be so shy, say hi.” He pats the top of his child’s head to help reassure him. Now that your son was looking at him, he remembers a vague memory of hair that looked like fire. Still too shy, he waves hello from behind his father. Rengoku lets out a laugh, finding the boy adorable.

“He’s just as reserved as you!” Rengoku speaks as he stands back up. Giyuu lets out a small puff of air through his noise, a small smile as he looks down at his son.

“I have my free period first thing, I could keep your son companied while you’re teaching your class, Tomioka-San.” Kanae speaks out.

“That would be great, thank you.” Giyuu answers. He grabs a hold of his son’s hand and guides him over to his desk, lifting him to set him in his chair. “I have to get going real soon, okay? Kanae-san will keep you company for now. I’ll miss you, be good, okay?” Giyuu places a kiss on his sons forehead before heading out of the office to the gym.

The whistle screeches loudly as Giyuu blew air into it.

“No resting! Keep running! Looking at you, Agatsuma!”

The yellow haired boy groans, huffing out loudly as he tried to pick his pace back up to a jog again. It was already second period, meaning its already be a little over an hour since Giyuu had seen his son. He knew he would be alright, but his mind still wandered, hoping he was gleefully coloring on the spare papers on his desk. Kanae was a very nice women and very good with children, he knew she’d be able to soothe him if he did start to get anxious. Though it was second period, meaning she probably had headed to her class already. He hoped his son wasn’t too lonely now. There should at least be another teacher in the room, right? Hopefully no one too intimidating… Giyuu shudders at the thought of his poor son having to be alone in a room with Shinazugawa. Hopefully Rengoku had his second period as his free period.

“Tomioka!!” A voice shouts out behind him. Giyuu turns to see Sanemi walking into the gym, his son on his hip with tears rolling down his red cheeks. His little fists rubbing his puffy eyes.

“What happened?” Giyuu asks concerned, his attention no longer on his students as he reached out for his upset son. “You didn’t scare him, did you?”

“Asshole, I’m actually great with kids. I have a ton of younger siblings you know. Your kid was just crying ‘cause he missed you. Couldn’t get him to quiet down, all he did was ask for you.” Sanemi looks at your son as he passes him on to Giyuu. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him, but Sanemi actually looked concerned for the young boy. Maybe Sanemi really was a lot softer than Giyuu thought.

“ ‘M sorry, Papa. I just missed you…” your son hiccuped out through sobs, his small fists now clinging on to Giyuu’s track suit as he buried his face into his father’s chest. Giyuu combed his fingers through his son’s hair to help soothe him. “It’s okay, I’m here now. You can just stay in the gym with me, you can sit on the bleachers.” He brings his attention back to Sanemi who’s eyes were still trained on the boy. “Thank you for bringing him, Shinazugawa.” Sanemi nods, eyes darting back to Giyuu’s son. Satisfied to see that he’s finally calmed down and starts to walk out of the gym.

“Tomioka-Sensei!!!” A student yells loudly, “Is that your son?!” Giyuu suddenly remembers that he in the middle of a class. None of the students were doing their laps anymore and were all sparkling with joy as they eyed the small boy in his arms.

“I didn’t tell any of you to stop running!” He shouts at the students. They all jump at his command and go back to their physical activities.

The bell rings and all the students immediately run up to Giyuu who was standing beside his son who was sat on the bleachers, little legs swaying happily.

“Tomioka-Sensei! Your son is so cute!” A dark red headed boy chimes out first. His maroon eyes sparkling with joy as he stared at the little version of Giyuu.

“Kamado, what have I told you about those earrings?” Giyuu scolds.

“I apologize! They’re my father’s! But can I say hi to your son? Please?!” He beams, barely able to contain his excitement. His other friends gathered behind him, most of them also looking eager to say hello. Giyuu sighs in defeat, “Yes, but don’t bombard him, he can get shy.” Giyuu turns over, holding out his hand for his son to call him over. His son hops to his feet and runs to grab ahold of his father’s hand. His little eyes peering up at the students gleaming at him. Tanjiro gets down on his knee to get eye level with the boy, a sweet smile on his face as he speaks gently.

“Hi, Tomioka-kun! How are you? Happy to be at work with your Papa?”

Your son smiles at the mention of his father and nods excitedly. Tanjiro can feel his heart being squeezed, he found him just too adorable. Reminding him of his baby siblings back at home. Nezuko next to her brother, peering happily at the young boy also seeing her own younger siblings in him. Bringing her hand to pat the top of your son’s head.

“Tomioka-Sensei, I didn’t know you had a wife and family.” Zenitsu lets out quietly. He found his son adorable, but felt too nervous to get any closer. The boy with the unbuttoned shirt next to him just staring in silence with a certain twinkle in his green eyes. A girl with a ponytail on one side of her head with an adorable butterfly clip standing along with the group of kids but looking more spaced out than the rest. And finally another girl with inky black pig tails and blue eyes looking excited beside her. Though stepping closer to also greet the young boy, crouching down besides the Kamado siblings.

“Your son looks just like you, he’s super cute!” The girl chimes out.

“Thank you, Kanzaki.” Giyuu responds, peering down at his son. He looked a lot more comfortable with this crowd. Most likely because they were much closer to his age compared to a room full of adults. Giyuu cant help but smile to himself, watching his son enjoying the attention he was receiving.

Finally back home after a long day, Giyuu sighs as he opens the door with his son on his hip. You were already home and started on dinner, immediately wiping your hands on a towel to meet your two favorite boys at the door.

“How was it?” You ask excitedly, reaching out your arms for your son was doing the same for you and calling out "Mama". Immediately kissing his soft cheeks and squeezing him tight to you in a warm hug. Leaning over to give Giyuu his greeting kiss.

“It went well, the teachers were helpful and cared for him when they could. Though he did cry when Shinazugawa was with him.”

You gasp, “Oh no, did he scare him? He can be pretty intense sometimes…” you loved Sanemi but even you had to admit he can be scary to look at.

“No, he’s actually really good with kids. He was crying because he missed me. It was probably scary for him in such a big, unfamiliar building without his Papa.” Giyuu smiles at his son, moving some stray hairs out of his face. “Right? Uncle Shinazugawa was nice? You were just missing me?”

Your son nods at Giyuu’s words, remembering how nice the white haired man was. Remembering how he doodled funny images onto the paper with him. How his grip was too strong he ended up breaking half the crayons. Remembering how when he started to cry that he brought him into an embrace and rocked him to try and soothe him. His thumb wiping away tears that continuously rolled down his cheeks.

“Shinazugawa brought him to me in the middle of my class and all the students were staring.” Giyuu adds on. “It was too hot out so we had class inside so he was able to sit on the bleachers. Not much else happened after that. Just more teachers and students greeting him and telling me how identical we look.”

You smile at your husband, “That’s great to hear. I’m glad it all worked out. Now let me continue with dinner, you two must be hungry, I know I am!” You set your son down and walk back to the kitchen, Giyuu following behind you to help wherever he could.

#baby Tomioka looks super chubby in the drawing #but I think its cute #anyways dad!Giyuu brain rot everyone #I’ll post the full drawing later bevause I need to be asleep #i did not mean to stay up this late writing this fic lmao #if I stopped it would have stayed a WIP forever lolol #i also feel like im not accurate about Japanese schools at all in this #but its fine cuz baby Tomioka is the main focus anyways lol #tomioka giyuu x reader #kny fanfic #kny x reader #tomioka giyuu drabble #kny imagines #giyuu imagines #giyuu x you #giyuu x y/n

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moonlit-positivity · 3 months

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Lesser known effects of trauma that don't ever get acknowledged

Cw: mentions of csa, sa, despair, depression, & generally dark content that some may find hard to read. Please interact & read with care.

"bed rotting" (which I hear is gaining attention on TikTok these days) ie the process of becoming bedridden due to your body being stuck in freeze response (paralyzed w fear, too scared to move)

Needing to cut your hair bc it keeps getting matted down, because you can't shower or wash it or keep up with it anymore

Gaining weight (i gained over 200lbs in a year), losing all the clothes you once fit in, and feeling guilty when all you see everywhere all the time is fat shaming

Losing weight (and subsequently all your clothes start falling off 😭) eating disorders and struggling with body image

Existing off of God knows what at this point. Is that milk spoiled? Yeah but how many days is it spoiled? Mmm, nah, nevermind, I'll just eat air.

Losing track of time. Losing months to years of time because of extreme dissociation, fatigue, stress, and the inability to move

Brain & body "shut down" or go into sleep mode for long periods of time

Self hygiene becomes non existent. Showering? Brushing teeth? Changing clothes? Don't know her.

House cleaning becomes non existent. "If It's Not In The Vacinity, It's Not Getting Done."

Lying to everyone about what's going on because it's easier than telling the truth

Not being comfortable with having your pictures taken, go through a phase where you destroy any evidence you ever existed anywhere at all

Isolating & ghosting all ur friends periodically to make sure they're not gonna leave you (lol makes perfect sense, if you know you know)

Animal upkeep goes to shit. Litter box goes neglected for long periods of time.

Noise & light sensitivity goes haywire. Noise & light triggers get amplified especially once you start to feel any sense of "safety" and start decompressing. An alarm goes off, the stove beeps, the cat meows, anything that makes even the slightest noise in the foreground and you have a whole ass panic attack and find yourself in bed for the rest of the day

Agoraphobia. You never go outside ever again. Too much paranoia, too many eyes staring at you, too many reasons to panic and stay in bed

Life becomes so non existent that the only thing that matters is whatever you're currently doing to cope & survive. If you're addicted to something, well, it's a fucking miracle you even wake up anymore

Couch surfing and inevitable homelessness when people get tired of housing you. Having to confront the way society frames government assistance as "the lazy man's income" & hope disability goes through. Which it won't. Wait-lists out the ass, section 8 takes 5 years or more to kick in. Disability doesn't even go through bc they always deny the first time you apply. The process is littered with appeals and court dates and what the fuck, I can't even get out of bed. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Leaning into your despair because, despite what everyone on social media will shout at you about resilience and "not allowing yourself to fall into despair," they will never understand that concept that despair is there for a reason too. Youre looking at someone who was raped at 5 years old and youre telling them to "stay positive." Yeah okay.

The anger, the bitterness, the resentment at the world & everyone in it. The cold blooded urge for revenge & justice. Especially when there's nothing you can do about the fact that your abusers are still free to live and roam this world as they please.

Not being able to "talk about it." Not being able to "trust a safe space." That's bullshit. I was beat and abused my whole life, what the fuck you mean "safe space?" The absolute mind fuckery that you have to sit with and undo and learn the fact that they fucking lied to you. It is enough to kill you.

Everything you learn in therapy just pisses you off even more because why the fuck wasn't there someone there as a kid to teach you this shit???? Why the fuck do I have to learn this as an adult???? Where was this when I actually fucking needed it????

Nothing helps. Nothing soothes, because there is no soothing. There is only pain. It's like ripping your skin off.

Losing everything. Losing all your friends. Losing all your "cool status" points. Losing your reputation. Losing all the things that once brought you great joy and passion. There is nothing anymore. Pain and isolation and desolation and despair.

Learning that no one can relate. Except that's not entirely true at all. People can relate. It's just such a stigmatized topic that no one talks about it out loud, because no one else in society really gets it.

#recovery #ptsd #trauma #mental health #boundaries #healing #abuse #effects of abuse #childhood trauma #abusive parenting #abusive relationships #addictions #alcoholism #acoa #codependency #substance use

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nerdieforpedro · 2 months

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A Poor Plan to Confess

Dieter Bravo x plus size female reader (Moon Pie)

This is fic is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.1k

Warnings: Dieter being a bit rude, porn use, mention of masturbation, teasing, improper toy use?, very bad communication, some mentions of sexual activities and acts, Nerdie is unsure of what she wrote

Summary: Dieter is doing his best to stay sober. You have a large part in his plans. They aren’t well thought out.

Notes: Written for the Dieter Bravo Brain Rot Server Challenge. @wannab-urs brought me back to Dieter, originally I didn’t have any ideas for this and then boom! 🤯 I had a few. Thanks to @missladym1981 for beta reading for me. 😘

Main Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist

A joke between old friends. Dieter was doing well. Three years sober, well from the harder drugs. He still had the occasional joint and alcohol. You weren’t really into the weed, thought it stunk to high heaven. Dieter always managed to find some really fragrant strains though, smelled like incense. Type you would burn laying on a chase couch in a fancy silk robe. Maybe smoke one of those long cigarettes except it had bubbles coming out of it. Dieter bought you one and told you to make bubbles come out of it over FaceTime.

The two of you have many silly jokes over the years. Some about video games, some about animals, some about his job and yours. He never wanted to hear about relationships and didn’t mention any of his to you. You asked why one day because friends normally at least mention if they’re dating someone or not and Dieter flat out told you, “I don’t need to have the image of you fucking somebody in my head.” Had you not been as secure as you were, you’d take offense, but you left it alone, keeping it in the back of your mind.

One thing Bravo hadn’t joked about thankfully was his sobriety, finally taking it seriously. He told you that if he ever called you mentioning coke or pills to lock him up and prevent him from calling anyone for the drugs. This was another joke. He even bought you handcuffs, zip ties and some bondage tape. His assistant dropped it off with a quizzical look on their face. You smiled and put them in your office. You knew why they had that look, you two as just friends and Dieter’s never given you anything like that before. Like an idiot, you googled how to use the zip ties and tape, ending up on Pornhub and unaware that someone was banging on your door.

When the next pop-up blocked your screen again, that was when you heard, “Hey! You alive in there?! Open the hell up! What kind of friend are you?” Running downstairs, you open up the door recognizing the voice, Dieter’s at your door. It’s 11:30 at night. He stares at you and you wonder why. Ah…I’m in my nightgown. My pink satin one to match the handcuff fuzz. I don’t think I washed my hands, and they smell like…fuck.

You now know why.

“Moon Pie, you got someone up in here? Didn’t know you had someone. I need your help your help though, just a room.” He pleads at your doorstep, before you can answer, whatever ad has finished and there’s loud moaning from the video you had been watching. His eyes cut upward to where the noise is coming from. “Or maybe not. I didn’t think you watched porn.”

Putting your hands on your hips, “Anyone can watch porn Dieter. Am I not allowed according to some weird ass rule you have? I have sex sometimes too!” His eyes went wide as you stepped aside letting him in and he raised his hands to signal defeat, though he did laugh when you said the word sex.

“You can’t even say fuck Moon Pie. Listen, let’s not talk about that. I need you to keep me here. I’m feeling like I may need to make a bad call. I did give my assistant my phone, but I don’t want to chance it. You still got that box?” He pays your shoulder, plopping down on the couch.

“Go find your silly box yourself Dieter. I’m going back upstairs.” Waving your hands, you start upstairs, making it up three stairs before some slaps are heard from your laptop in your room. You really need to turn that off.

“To finish your porn instead of helping your friend?” He popped up met you at the bottom of the stairs, “Come on! You still have the tools, right?” His hands ran up your arms. This man. Despite showing up unannounced, late, interrupting some ‘me time’ and requesting he use tools you don’t know how to use save for the handcuffs, you’d still help him out. Even if he could be troublesome and rude at times, he always supported you in work endeavors and listened to you talk way too much about Final Fantasy games. He blames you for knowing about crystals and different jobs like paladin and black mage.

You didn’t answer him and walked upstairs to your room, to turn the porn off but the screen was frozen, playing the same moan ever and over. The image had a man zip tied to a pole while standing as a woman sucked him off. They both were letting out a combined moan. Swallowing hard, Dieter watched you switch your weight between your large hips, he removed his robe and brown t-shirt leaving himself in his brown pajama pants and removing his gray socks. “Moon Pie. Have you ever done that sort of thing? I doubt it.” His voice snapped you after your haze, turning to look at him, confusion dots your face.

“Why did you remove your shirt? I just need to tie you up and prevent you from leaving right? Put your shirt back on Dee.” His chest only has a small splattering of dark hair on his golden skin. He lays across your bed grinning. “Wait how long am I supposed to keep you here? You’re not getting me arrested.”

“I was hot and until I don’t feel like using. Where’s the box?”

“Stay there, it’s in my office.” You’re back momentarily with the fabled box and open it, taking out the handcuffs, zip ties and tape. “Here which do you want me to use? I’m tired.” Dropping the box on the bed, he frowns, you’re not playing along, you see annoyed. Shouldn’t you be happy he’s across your bed? Dieter is, why aren’t you?

You are tired sure, but you’re hornier and more aware that Dieter is not going to want anything to do with relieving any frustration you have. Holding your hands palms out, “Just tell me what you want me tie you up with so I can set up the guest room.”

“Hey, why are you pissed at me? I’m not leaving until you help me, you said you would.” Dieter scoots to the edge of the bed and leans on his elbows. “Are you really that mad I stopped you from finishing your porn? You don’t need it.” He picks up the handcuffs out of the box and studies the pink fuzz. It looks about the same shade as your nightgown. Moon Pie hasn’t used these has she? No, they don’t look used. I think. These are mine, I bought them for her to use with me. She shouldn’t be watching porn. I need to be the toy.

“Damn it Dieter! I’m not just your friend, I’m a woman who has needs no matter if you wanna think about it or not! Fuck you!” Charging at him, you grab his shoulders and knock him back on the bed, pinning him to bed. He slaps the handcuffs on your wrist and his. “What the hell?! They’re only supposed to go on you not me!”

Bravo licks his lips and turns his head to the side to kiss your hand after pulling his wrist to his mouth. “Oh, I’ve always liked the idea of you in handcuffs. You should fuck me Moon Pie.” His curved nose inches closer to your hand and sniffs it. He has your scent now, sticking one of your fingers into his mouth and pulling it back out.

The sensation from his lips went straight to your cunt and you stifled a moan. He will not have his way; you can ensure even if you’re handcuffed to him. “You said you couldn’t picture me fucking Dee? Are you looking for that much of a distraction?” You moved to sit beside him on the bed, but he pulled you back on top, his free hand roaming freely over your love handles. “Dee, I’m not just going to be used for you staying sober.”

Leaning forward, his face connected with your neck, licking it, “I’ve been using you to stay sober since I finish rehab three years ago. I knew if I went back, it would disappoint the hell out of you.” His teeth bit into your neck and a whimper escaped, small but it was enough to encourage him. “I didn’t want to think of someone fucking you other than me. I’m sure you have; they’re flies drawn to honey.” His hand ran from your rolls to your ass squeezing it. “If I’m going to stay sober for you, I should have you, shouldn’t I?” Rolling his hips up into yours, he licks the bite and lets go of your ass slapping it.

Dropping your hips, you press right into his clothed bulge, feeling it throb against your bare cunt. “You’re insane Dieter, how does that make any sense….?” Unfortunately, he’s making it so much worse, your nipples are visible through your nightgown, erect as you leak onto his pants from your core. “This is only because you stopped me earlier with your stupid request.”

“Whatever you want to tell yourself Moon Pie. Only I’m going to see you like this from now on, right?” The pads of his fingers trail up your spine and pull down one of the straps of your nightgown letting a breast become fully exposed. He licks it before blowing on it, eliciting another whimper. “Tell me I’ll be the only one. I’ll take the handcuffs off and make sure you come. Don’t be difficult tonight. Not when I need you.” He doesn’t wait for your answer before taking it in his mouth, and sitting up, pulling you into his lap. Instinctively, both of your hands grab his head, pulling his one hand back. He disconnects from your nipple to yelp from his shoulder suddenly going back.

You grin and try to reach for the key that’s in the box since he’s distracted, but Dieter gets on his knees and pulls on his wrist, having your arm come back toward him and making you fall face first into the bed. “Dieter let me get the key, then I can lock you in another room. Clearly you need to be.” His fingers trace your thighs but don’t go any higher, sighing, he lays down next to you.

“You seriously don’t want to have sex with me? Even after I tell you I want you to be my only one? So cold to me.” He pouts. This man is seriously pouting after he’s teased you? He doesn’t move as you get the key and unlock yourself. You consider handcuffing both of his hands but release him as well. Moving to the edge of the bed, you stand and turn off your laptop then return to sit on the bed.

“You’ve got to do better than trying to guilt me into it. You’re horrible at this.” You laugh as does he. If it had been anyone else, you’d never speak to them again at minimum, Dieter rolls on his side and kisses your thigh.

“We’ve been friends how long? You know I’m shit at this. I feel like I should ask, you’re not going to have me arrested for this are you?” You poke the scruff on his cheek.

“No, though I should. You’re insane Dieter Bravo. We’ll sleep on it.” You lay back and scoot up to the head of the bed, closing your eyes.

“Did you want to finish your porn? Or make our own? It will be Moon Pie’s debut!”” Slinks up the bed and lays his head on your chest, kissing your collar bone.

“You’re a dumbass Dieter. I would tie you up but you’d like it too much. Go to sleep.” Placing your fingers in his hair to scratch his scalp makes him purr, wrapping a leg around one of yours.

“Keep scratching my head like that and we won’t be sleeping at all you cheeky Moon Pie. I’ll be under that gown soon.” His face found its way back to your neck, licking the teeth marks he made earlier. Letting out a soft groan, you pull on Dieter’s hair, so he pulls his head back. “Jokes on you, I enjoy my hair being pulled. Manipulate me more.” His grin is criminal, he should be arrested for that if anything.

It wasn’t even two hours before Dieter had your legs up around his waist. He’s temperamental and a horrible communicator but damn if he didn’t have you call him an Oscar winner while he rutted into you from behind giving you your third orgasm before one in the morning.

Trash Panda Pals 🦝: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @sp00kymulderr @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @titlee78 @tinytinymenace @magpiepillsjunior @soft-girl-musings @morallyinept @rhoorl @wannab-urs @survivingandenduring @missladym1981 @yorksgirl @pedroshotwifey @heareball

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x plus size reader #dieter bravo x you #Nerdie fic rec #dieter bravo brainrot club

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