#would like rest would like peace would like a calm brain!!! would like to breathe would like to not come up with 3663637282 medical things

[igotanidea]

Run baby, run: AK!Jason x reader

part 2 to Somebody's watching me.

She looked so peaceful. So innocent.

And completely oblivious to the fact that the casual outing she went to with her friends was carefully observed by a pair of eyes, hidden under a metal helmet.

Or was she-?

He was like a predator.

Waiting for a single mistake of his prey to take a change and lunge at the opportunity fate presented him with.

Whatever the mistake may be in this case.

But sooner or later she was gonna make one.

Part ways with her friends.

Get drunk and bibulously let some guy touch her.

Dance to the music to the point of exhaustion and end up on the couch in a stranger’s house.

And he would be there to prevent the aftermath of that.

***

For the last week she was going crazy.

Ever since that one night when she saw a silhouette on the rooftop it felt like someone has been following her every move, ever step, lurking in the dark, so close to her and yet, just beyond reach. However, when she tried to tell her friends about they look at her like she was making a joke. So obviously she stopped doing as much as even mentioning it, cause the last thing she wanted was to be abandoned by the only people in her surroundings.

Even if those friends didn’t really deserve the name.

But still – those were the only one she had.

Incomparable with the Waynes she used to spend her time with years ago, before all went to shit. But Jason’s disappearance left an everlasting scar. The only thing she wanted was to forget it all, and yet – the only impossible thing in her life seemed to be letting go of the past. And being in the company of Dick, Tim, Babs and the rest of the clan was making her skin burn and her stomach twist and turn with the incoming, checkless panic attack. Like her entire body and mind felt the pressure of the past on her fragile conscience and damaged soul.

And the only thing she felt like doing in the Manor was either screaming or crying. 

So she moved on, or so she tried to convince herself of.

***

Mistake number one was left her drink unattended when she went to the toilet.

Rookie move with the possible grave consequences.

But it was gone when she came back. Only fueling her paranoia.

Mistake number two was letting her eyes off her companionship and being left alone by the exit with some drunken and already horny guys.

But when with shaky hands she pulled out her phone, desperately searching through her contact list for a potential backup, those men were already dragged into the nearest dark alley and knocked down.

But her worst mistake was not calling the cab and deciding on actually walking home. In her opinion it was a way to get some air and calm her rapidly racing heart, but she freaking forgot it was Gotham.

Like a freaking fool.

Under any other circumstances she would never and the fact that the though of going on foot even crossed her mind was the perfect reflection of her shattered mind spinning like a freaking Ferris wheel.

Something was wrong.

Something was awfully wrong and she felt like she was a main character in some horror movie.

Like that girl, who you watch on the screen, screaming at her to not go to that creepy attic from where the most suspicious sounds come, and then do the exact same thing when faced with a threat.

A ruffle of the leaves. The sound of an empty soda can rolling on the street. The flap of bird’s wing.

It all made her feel like a Freddy Krueger was coming after her.

And maybe she was not so far from the truth.

Her pulse was over the moon, heart running out of her chest, breath quickening, legs starting to move faster and faster and faster as she started running. Not really watching where as long as it was forward and away from whatever imaginary individual was chasing her.

With wild hair, tears in her eyes and blurry vision.

She was so stupid. So fucking stupid and mental, belonging in the mental institution due to her damaged brain refusing to stop dwelling on the past trauma.

“WATCH OUT!”

Before she was hit by a car a strong pair of arms grabbed her by the waist pulling her back to the pavement. She closed her eyes in fear letting whoever her savior was hold her trembling form. As weird as it was, for some reason being in this embrace felt… good. And familiar. Like she belonged there.

And if it was another wave of schizophrenic images coming from her brain she refused to accept it, freezing at the spot and waiting for it to pass.

But the stranger’s seeming grip on her body did not falter. For a longer while that seemed both like an eternity and like a second.

“Y/N….”

It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind. It must have been a wind.

“Y/N…”

The second the voice hit her ears again she turned around abruptly, but there was no one there.

She was going crazy.

With wide terrified eyes, slowly coming back on earth she finally took in her surroundings.

Realizing, to her undeniable terror, that she was right next to Dick’s house. And even worse – noticing the lights in his windows. Which meant he was here and not in Bludhaven. And not patrolling. Which was an uncommon, if not impossible conjuncture.

The past finally caught up with her.

“Y/N?!” Dick noticed her outside and opened the window, holding back the instinct to just jump outside (from 3rd floor) like an acrobat he was. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you ok?”

“No…” she sobbed “No, I’m not okay…” she finally broke down in the middle of the night, on the empty street.

“Damn!” a few minutes later Grayson was downstairs holding her for dear life. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Whatever happened, you are safe with me now, I promise.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Crying from fear and stress and helplessness.

“Shhh… come on, let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up. I got you.”

When Dick was slowly guiding her to his apartment, the same predatory red eyes were focused on the pair and the sudden need for vengeance sprouts buds, growing roots deep into the long-petrified heart, crushing down the ice it was covered with.

No one was going to take her away from him this time.

Edit:

part 3 : Smooth criminal is up!

@vaniasagitaa @gone-batty-fics @astrelz @not-herexo @deans-spinster-witch @calicocat45

[perlelune]

Happier Than Ever | Rafe Cameron

Loving Rafe was a rollercoaster you could never get off of. Sometimes thrilling, but mostly terrifying. And some way, somehow, he always found a way to draw you back in for another ride.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Drug Addiction, Drunk Driving, Kook! Reader, Toxic Relationship, Abuse, Emotional Blackmail, Suicidal Talk

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

You smile as Marissa tells her story once more. No matter how many times you hear it, it never gets old.

“Who does that? I mean he didn’t even have his driving license. I was so embarrassed-”

The rest of the girls in the circle you formed in the living room gasp. You nurse your beer before taking another sip. You take a bite of the birthday cake, humming in appreciation of the cinnamon and pineapple undertones. For a minute, you soak it all in. The soft pop pouring from the speakers in your friend’s living room. The casual chatter between friends.

You fold your legs beneath yourself, enjoying your cake in a corner of the couch.

It’s been a while since you’ve been able to enjoy a night like this. Quiet and calm. Not since your breakup. Spending time with your friends always fell to the wayside in your previous relationship, your ex finding issues with how much time you spend with them instead of him. It wasn’t uncommon for you to drop everything whenever he called. Girls’ night outs. Sleepovers. Even birthdays, like today.

He was the sun around which your entire life orbited and he couldn’t stand anything or anyone stealing your attention away. It took you a long time to leave. More than you’re comfortable admitting.

It’s not like things were bad all the time. In fact, most of the time, they were good. Not just good. They were great. So great you easily forgave and forgot. Forgot about the tears. Forgot about the rough hands on your skin. Forgot about the cruel words. Forgot about the screaming and nights lying awake, wondering what you did wrong for him to be so angry at you again.

He was a magician. With the right words and that twinkle in his ocean gaze, he could make all the hurt vanish. Like none of it was ever there to begin with. The same eyes that made you feel small could make your stomach flutter. The same mouth that would praise you could tear you down as easily.

Your heart was never at rest, as you never knew which version of him you’d get on a particular day. The sweet and kind version. Or the paranoid and volatile one.

So many little things could set him off. A throwaway comment from his dad. An argument with his sister. Some stranger's gaze resting on you half a second too long. 

Nothing you did could ever get that chip off his shoulder. No amount of care, patience or love could ever reassure him enough. It was exhausting, which is why you left. Well, more like…ran away. Avoided his side of the island. Ghosted him. Hid away really. 

It’s been a few weeks now. You are slowly retrieving some semblance of peace in your life. It’s easier when he’s not around. Easier to breathe. Easier to move around.

Marissa turns to you.

“I’m so happy that you could make it.”

You beam at her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She pauses, her fingers tapping the side of her beer bottle.

“You did last year,” she points out. 

You tense. Last year. You never even told her what that was about. You were dressed up and ready and he stopped you on your way out, questioning why you were looking this good for “just some chicks’ get-together”. You shudder as the memory flashes through your brain. Needless to say you never made it to your friend’s party.

“Yeah…sorry about that,” you mumble, scratching your arm.

She smiles in reassurance, squeezing your arm.

“It’s okay. But no more missing my birthday, okay?”

“Okay, promise,” you reply, nodding.

The conversation is halted by the buzzing of your phone. Your chest clenches at the sight of the familiar name across the screen. Marissa steals a glimpse from across the couch and tilts her head in disapproval. The two of them were oil and water, never getting along. In fact, she got in his face quite a few times. And he seemed to enjoy riling her up even more.

“Don’t answer that.” She nudges your shoulder. “I already told you, you need to block him.”

In theory, you know you should sever all ties. But you haven’t found the nerve to cross that bridge yet. Sending him straight to voicemail and leaving him on read is the height of what you can achieve right now. Besides, you shudder to think how he’d react to you blocking him. He damn near broke your door down the day after you texted him that you two were over.

“It could be important…” You get to your feet, stepping away from the couch and your friend’s critical stare. “I’m just gonna tell him to stop. I’ll be right back.”

You head to the balcony. You inhale a lungful of courage before swiping to accept the call. 

“Hey, angel. Miss me?” Rafe slurs drunkenly. 

Your brows knit. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re like this, Rafe.”

He barks out a derisive laugh. “You hear this shit, bro? Acting like she cares about me all of sudden.”

Your chest twinges, his words hurting more than they should.

Another familiar voice faintly echoes in the background. 

“Is that Topper?”

Your frown deepens. They both sound too inebriated to be driving anyone home, let alone themselves.

As you ponder if you should call Sarah or Ward, a crashing sound echoes through the phone, the boys’ laughter dying. Your stomach drops. 

“Rafe?” you call. 

You frantically text him. When you get no response, you try Topper. He doesn’t pick up immediately. 

At least twenty minutes slog by in terrifying silence.

Chewing on your thumb, you wait for the call to reach him.

When you finally hear his voice, relief seeps through you. If he’s fine, then Rafe must also be, right?

But your hopes are swiftly pulverized when he informs you that Rafe is being transported to the hospital. Panic flutters through you. You don’t want to care. You and him aren’t together anymore. It’s not your problem…Except it is. You can’t quell the worry pooling in your gut, the racing of your heart at the thought that Rafe could be hurt. Or worse.

Anxiously rubbing your hands, you head back to the living room. Marissa won’t like what you have to say, but dread has wrapped its fist around your heart since you heard that horrifying sound on the other end of the line, and hasn’t eased up since. The not knowing is worse than anything.

Noting the contrite pinch to your face, your friend heaves out a deep exhale.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to see him,” she says.

You chew on your lip. You know how this looks. Like you’re that girl who picks a guy over her friends again. Still, you remind yourself it’s not like the other times. You aren’t together anymore. You’re over him. You’re way past that. You’re just making sure he’s safe.

“I think something happened. Something really bad.”

Marissa shrugs and takes a swig of her beer. You try to ignore her and your other friend’s pointed stares. Their quietness speaks volumes, the weight of their judgment bearing heavily in the room.

“He always does that. Who knows if he didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You mean crashed his car on purpose? Marissa, come on…”

She tosses her head backwards, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

“Whatever. I’m used to you bailing.” She glances at her freshly painted nails. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Her accusation aches but you shove it aside. You bid everyone goodbye and grab your keys from the lobby. 

The entire drive your heart is in your throat, your clammy hands tight around the wheel.

The worst scenarios keep playing in your head like a horrible nightmare. The picture of Rafe, a white sheet draped over his unmoving body, won’t stray from your raging thoughts. Why do you feel like this is your fault? He always had troubles with overindulging in liquor and other party favors. It’s something the two of you often argued about. But he had gotten better about it lately, before the breakup. He’d thrown away the drugs, eased up on the drinking. He was better. It’s part of why leaving felt okay.

Your eyes well up with tears. You wipe them in frustration, focusing on the dark road ahead. 

Sucking a wide breath, you remind yourself. You’re not responsible for Rafe. None of this is your fault.

Still, as you pull into the hospital’s driveway, guilt lingers within you.

Thanks to Topper’s instructions, you find Rafe’s room quickly.

You’re a breathless mess when you arrive, having raced through the white corridors. Sarah and Wheezie hug you as soon as they see you. You return it, having missed them in the last few weeks. You had come to think of the youngest of the Cameron siblings as the little sister you never had. You often went out to have ice cream while she told you of the gossip from her school. As for Sarah, the two of you go way back. While not the closest, you’ve been in the same circles since kindergarten. The puffiness of her brown eyes doesn’t escape you. While there’s no love lost between her and her big brother, she seems as shaken as you are.

Ward greets you with a nod. Meeting his gaze is difficult. He always told you you were a good influence on his son. A good girl from a good family. That you were exactly what Rafe needed to set himself straight and finally grow up. You can tell from the way his blue eyes are trained on you that Ward is a little disappointed, that he expected you to stick it out through the storm with his son. The people-pleaser inside you shrinks a bit at that.

Rose at least appears to empathize with your plight, flashing you a quick smile. She too seems to have cried, which stuns you the most. It’s no secret she and Rafe have never gotten along.

The Camerons make space for you to tiptoe further inside the room.

You take shaky steps towards Rafe. It hurts seeing him like that, hunched over at the edge of the bed in a hospital gown. While he’s not attached to tubes and wires, your chest seizes as you note the sling around his left arm, his busted lip and the long cut running across his brow.

“We’ll leave you two alone,” Ward says, gesturing at his daughters to vacate the room.

Silence hangs for a while after the rest of the Cameron clan leaves, giving you and Rafe privacy. Eyes clinging to the floor, you girdle your breath until he speaks.

“You came.”

You look up, Rafe’s cool tone startling you. You approach him.

“Of course I came.”

The muscles of his jaw clench.

“You didn’t have to,” he says curtly.

You cup his cheek, “Rafe-”

He slaps your hand away, his eyes rolling back as he unleashes a heavy sigh.

“Don’t,” he snaps. He sniffs and chuckles but it lacks humor. “I don’t even know why you’re here. You don’t give two shits about me.”

Disbelief strikes you. How could Rafe utter such words after everything you’ve been through together?

Your brows furrow as you graze his arm, whispering softly, 

“That’s not true, Rafe and you know it.”

“Do I?” He taps his temple with his healthy arm, stammering angrily, “C-Cause I had so many thoughts in my head when you left…”

“Rafe-”

“I know we weren’t perfect but I thought we were pretty happy, y’know?” 

A surge of tears presses beneath your lashes.

“We were.” You pause and take a deep breath. “Sometimes. But you weren’t…” Your lip quakes as you’re hit with the remembrance of how bad his mood swings were. You rub your neck, the phantom sensation of Rafe’s fingers squeezing it tight sizzling your flesh. Your voice comes out small. “We weren’t good for each other, Rafe.”

He bites his bottom lip and slowly releases it before sneering, “Bet you’d have preferred if I died tonight, get it all over with.”

“What? How can you even say that?” you say, your pitch spiking with shock.

“Y’know maybe I should…Maybe I should just get my dad’s gun, blow my fucking brains out and stop being such a burden to you.”

He mimics the gesture of shooting a gun through his skull and tears spill over your cheek.

You cradle his face.

“Don’t say things like that, Rafe. Please…” you sob.

“What else am I supposed to say, huh? You left me. Bet you think I’m a fuckup too. Just like my dad.”

“I don’t think that.”

“I wanted to die.”

“Rafe.”

His watery gaze dives into yours.

“When you left, I wanted to fucking die.”

Your breath falters.

“Being without you is hell, angel.” Desperation oozes from his voice. “I just wanted to feel…I don’t know, anything else.” He buries his face in his hand, mumbling under his breath, “I-I don’t know how much more of this shit I can take.”

Your heart sinks. You never imagined breaking up with Rafe would send him in such a state. A wave of guilt consumes your insides. Perhaps it was selfish, taking your distance the way you did. 

You place your hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know things were this bad for you. I’m sorry.”

He snorts. “I mean, how could you? It’s not like you answer when I call.”

The air chills around you. Your lips clamp shut at that, your head lowering. You did ignore all of Rafe’s calls. And now you find yourself wondering if there were cries for help, if he was drowning and needed you to pull him ashore. If you had picked up, just once, maybe he wouldn’t be here right now. 

The doctor comes in and you step back. Rafe is thankfully cleared, presenting no concussion or major injuries besides his broken arm. You meet Topper outside and are relieved to find him in much better shape than your ex. Outside of a nasty scrape on his cheek, he’s completely unharmed. 

“Were you drunk too?” you can’t help but ask him.

“I…Yeah, but I wasn’t the one driving.” Topper hesitates, nervous as his eyes meet yours. “Rafe, he…he took some other stuff at the party.”

“I figured,” you sigh.

“He just kept driving faster the more he ranted about you.”

Your chest clenches. You glower at him.

“You’re supposed to be his friends, you and Kelce. You’re supposed to look out for him.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

Your gaze darts around the hospital corridor.

“Where’s Kelce, anyway?”

Topper scratches the back of his neck.

“He…passed out in a bush at the party.”

Your shoulders sag. Typical Kook shenanigans. Not one of those boys could actually behave responsibly. All they ever do is enable each other and egg each other on to do stupid shit. Then they let someone else clean up their mess. Fatigue settles over you. You’ve been here before. 

You glance at your phone. It’s beyond late. You walk up to Ward.

“I should probably go back home now. I only wanted to check on Rafe, make sure he's okay."

Crossing his arms, the Cameron patriarch astounds you when he utters, “Why don’t you stay at Tannyhill tonight?”

You flash a nervous smile.

“Mr. Cameron, Rafe and I-”

“I know you two are broken up, and I get that.” He heaves out a weary sigh as he considers Rafe. “I know my son has…issues, sweetheart, but he always did better around you.” His piercing gaze travels from Rafe to you. “He hasn’t been doing well since you left him.”

You recline into silence. It’s been a while since you’ve seen Rafe look this defeated. It worries you. You have no desire to give him the wrong idea but you also don’t see yourself just going home after hearing the things he shared with you. While you don’t plan on getting back with him, you can’t just abandon him.

“Okay. But just for tonight,” you specify. 

Ward beams at you. “That's all I ask, sweetheart.”

You end up getting into a car with Ward, Rose and Rafe. Wheezie trails behind Sarah, as you let her borrow the keys of your truck to drive Topper back home. She promises to return them to you in the morning. A heavy quiet coats the air as you share the backseat with Rafe, his stepmom sitting in the front with Ward. He’s not even looking at you, his blue eyes glued to the window. Dejected, you twine your hands in your lap. You’re used to that, Rafe ignoring you when he’s upset. But tonight it stings even more, fueling the guilt simmering inside you.

As Ward’s car pulls into the long alley of the Cameron’s mansion, nostalgia tugs at your heart.

Tannyhill was practically a second home to you this past year. Your parents travel a lot for work and Rafe used to coax you into staying with him most nights, just so you’re not alone.

You don’t even think as you follow Rafe to his bedroom, your feet carrying you absently since you’ve done it so many times before.

You inspect the room. Nothing’s changed since the last time you were here.

He grimaces as he struggles to remove his clothes while wearing the sling.

“I can’t get this fucking shirt off,” Rafe grumbles.

You trudge up to him.

“Let me help you.”

Rafe observes you, falling strangely quiet while you slip off his shirt for him. Your cheeks heat when you do the same for his pants. 

When you’re done, you try to head for the door.

Rafe’s hand clutches yours, halting your departure.

“Stay… please, angel? You can wear one of my shirts like you used to.”

A forlorn expression decorates his features. Despite your best efforts, it tugs at your heartstrings.

You gnaw on your lip. “It’s probably best if I stay in the guest room.”

His thumb sweeps over the inside of your palm.

“I won’t try anything funny, I swear…if that’s what you’re worried about.” His brows draw together. “I’m just in so much pain, and I can barely move my arm.”

You unleash a resigned breath.

“You promise to stay on your side of the bed?” When a playful smile creeps on his lips, your tone sharpens. “Rafe, I’m only here as your friend. I’m serious.”

His gaze narrows, suspicion sneaking in his tone. “Why? You’re like seeing somebody now or some shit?”

“No, I’m not.” You pause before adding cheekily, “And even if I were, it’d be none of your business.”

His cheek pulses.

A flicker of jealousy ignites his gaze, indicating that, in Rafe’s opinion, who you're seeing now is still very much his business. But his features smooth over quickly, his voice mellowing.

“I’d just feel better if you slept next to me, angel. I don’t feel like I’m asking for much, am I?” He pauses before sneering, “Or do you hate my fucking guts so much that I can’t even ask for a little favor?”

“I don’t hate you, Rafe.”

He cocks his head, hope lacing his deep timbre.

“Really? You don’t?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried,” you admit.

A wide grin blooms on his face at that. He curls his hand around your waist, pulling you a little closer. 

“Then prove it. Stay with me tonight.”

His blue eyes are honest, pleading. Your resolve thaws like ice in the summer heat. 

“Fine,” you yield. You gear yourself to leave, announcing, “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

The hand on your waist tightens as he teases, “Why not here? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before-”

“Rafe,” you scold, prying his fingers off your waist.

He snickers, lifting his hand. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

A pang of melancholy pierces your chest when you pick one of Rafe’s shirts to wear in bed. It feels a little weird sharing a bed with him when you’re not together anymore.

When you step out of the bathroom, you steal a glance at him. The blanket only covers half of his body, exposing the bare, suntanned muscles of his chest. You ignore Rafe’s smirk as he catches your lingering gaze. Averting your eyes, you make your way to your side of the bed.

You slip under the covers, reassured that he’s respecting your wishes by giving you space. But it doesn’t last.

In the middle of the night, you’re forced to berate him for breaking the boundaries you set.

His good arm snakes around you, his broad chest draping over your back.

“Rafe…”

He nuzzles your neck from behind, humming as he basks in your smell. “Please, just let me have this,” he begs.

You sigh. You don’t have it in you to deny Rafe tonight. Not when he could have died. Not when you feel some responsibility for that. 

“Okay, but no wandering hands.”

He nods and snuggles even closer to you. You can’t help but grow a bit dizzy as the familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne clogs your senses.

You close your eyes and drift into sleep.

In the morning, you wake up to Rafe dragging his fingertips along your cheek, an entranced expression etched on his features.

“I missed waking up like this,” he rasps.

For a while, as you get lost in how bright and blue his eyes look in the soft morning glow, you forget. Remembrance settles over you however when Rafe’s thumb travels to your bottom lip. This is the kind of thing you can’t allow anymore.

Clearing your throat, you sit up and remove his hand from your face.

“Well don’t get used to it.”

Rafe’s brows crumple. “Ouch. When did you get so mean, angel?”

“I learnt it from you.”

He actually seems taken aback by that, speechless as he gapes at you.

His surprise allows you to make a beeline for the bathroom.

“Dibs on the first shower,” you chime, slamming the door closed before he can make another comment that sends your heart in a frenzy.

You use Rafe’s time away in the bathroom to focus on another task. A very important task. One you call the post-bender sweep. It’s a little tragic that you even have a name for it, or that you’ve had to do it so often. So you roll up your sleeves and begin rummaging through all of Rafe’s drawers. No corner of the room is left unchecked.

It’s how he finds you as he steps out of the shower, damp blonde locks grazing his forehead, the towel hanging low on his tapered waist. 

Confusion fills his cobalt eyes. 

“What are you doing?”

“I know you weren’t just drunk last night Rafe. Topper told me everything.”

“Fucking snitch,” Rafe hisses. He inches closer to you. “Look, I’m gonna get it together, alright?”

You crouch near the bed and reach under the mattress. Rafe’s face goes taut as you feel between the wooden slats. “Angel-”

Your fingers dislodge a plastic bag between the slats. You examine its insides. 

“Coke, expected. Well that…is new. Is that meth?” you list sourly. You wish you could say you were disappointed. Instead, you’re just exhausted and vaguely angry. This is a step back. A huge one. “This is poison, Rafe.”

You get to your feet and dash to the bathroom. As you empty every ounce of powder, crystals and every single pill into the toilet bowl, Rafe grips the side of his head. Panic flickers on his face.

“That’s 10k down the drain.”

“Well, Barry can go through me. I’m not letting you do this to yourself again.”

You flush the toilet and meet his eyes. Their intensity has you shifting in discomfort.

“What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

His lips slowly curve upward.

“You still care about me.”

Your heart skips a beat. You blink and shuffle away from the toilet. False hopes, you recall, you weren’t supposed to give them to him. You decide to steer him away from that line of thought.

“Of course I do,” you reply. “You’re my friend.”

Rafe’s smile vanishes. His tone becomes clipped. “Friends, huh? Okay.”

Your plans to only stay the night are thwarted at breakfast. After sharing a copious meal with the Camerons, Ward pulls you aside, practically begging you to prolong your presence at Tannyhill for his son’s sake. 

“You and I both know he needs you, sweetheart.”

At first, you’re hesitant. This wasn’t the plan. You’ve fought so hard against the instinct not to put Rafe’s needs and wants before your own. Tooth and nail quite frankly. The first week after your breakup, not picking up when he called made you physically ill.

You wept about it for days, and almost ran right back into his arms. Without your friends, you probably would have.

Now, your life’s back on track. You can breathe again. You’re happier. The crippling fear of what Rafe would say or think does not hover over your every move anymore.

When Sarah returns your truck’s keys, you consider driving yourself back home and never looking back. Your fingers curl around the keys. It’s right there beneath your palm, your freedom. But there’s just one tiny issue. Rafe’s misty eyes catch yours across the table. And in less than a second, you don’t belong to yourself anymore.

So you remain at Tannyhill much longer than you’d like, taking care of Rafe and spending nights in his arms. The ambiguity of the situation fosters doubts in your mind, threatening the fragile equilibrium you found.

So as soon as Rafe’s noticeably improved, you elect to go back home. One morning, you rise with the sun and start collecting all the things you left behind in his room. It’s imperative to create some distance between you and him again. After all, you’ve gone above and beyond. Initially, this was about checking on your friend. A blind man could see that Rafe wants more than that however. You fear things will spiral to a point of no-return if you don’t leave now. You did so well these last few weeks, getting over Rafe. Or trying to at least. Now all that hard work is on the rocks.

Displeasure paints Rafe’s features as he watches you shove as many of the stray objects you scattered in his space inside your bag. You ended things so abruptly the first time that you never bothered coming back to collect everything you left in Rafe’s room.

“Come on, you could stay a little longer,” he pleads.

“It’s time for me to go home, Rafe.”

“Then just stay the night. You can leave tomorrow.”

“Rafe, it’s been well over a week.”

He sucks his teeth, sniggering meanly, “That excited to be rid of me, huh?”

Your forehead creases.

“It’s not like that.”

Rafe scoffs, “Nah, I get it. You’ve moved on and you never want to see me again, right?”

“Rafe…”

His fingers thread through yours, drawing you back to him. Towering above you, he whispers, “It's just one night. It won’t be different from the other ones. I just want to be able to feel you one last time.”

You purse your lips. You could never say no to anything Rafe asks when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his lifeline, the only thing keeping his head above water. 

It's probably not a great idea. Rafe’s been getting handsier than you’d like these last few days, and you didn’t have the heart to push him away. But what’s one more night? You’ll be gone tomorrow anyways.

“Okay,” you concede.” But I’m really leaving tomorrow.”

A victorious grin breaks out on his face.

“Of course, angel.”

At first, your last night at Tannyhill does indeed seem like the others. You slip under the covers next to Rafe, as you’ve done every other night. His light snores fill the room, his arm finding its way around your waist. Like always. You’ve gotten used to this. You don’t protest, finding comfort in the knowledge you’ll be done with everything Rafe Cameron the next day.

So you let him get close once more. His heat encases you as he nestles his head in the crook of your neck. You don’t even give much thought to the thick bulge poking the small of your back. This is Rafe. He grows hard half the time when you cuddle. Usually, you get him to back off with a frown and a light shove on his chest.

But tonight’s different.

He starts rubbing against you, his hand sneaking below the shirt covering your body.

“Rafe? What are you doing?” you whisper, your voice high-pitched from shock.

“Shh, quiet, angel,” he hushes, trailing sloppy, heated pecks along your neck and shoulder.

“Rafe, you can’t…” Your voice dwindles to a gasp when his digits creep between under your ass, teasing your folds through your panties. He pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingertips. You bite down a sharp cry. 

“I said I wanted to feel you one last time, angel.”  

He shoves a finger inside your panties and sinks between your walls. The embarrassing squelching of your cunt echoes in the room, Rafe beginning to pump inside you at a steady pace. Naturally, he knows exactly how to move his fingers to turn you into a panting, shivering mess against him. You try to resist it, ignore the fire rising in your core, but your skin is easily set ablaze by Rafe’s familiar touch. Your belly knots. Tingles bloom on your flesh. He sweeps along your tender spots and you choke on your spit.

Heat gathers in your face as you grow slicker beneath Rafe’s hand.

He tugs on your panties, sliding them down your legs.

Rafe shifts position. He places himself above you and shimmies out of his boxers. Alarm bells ring inside your head when his thick tip prods at your entrance.

“Rafe…”

Words wither on your tongue as he buries his cock inside you in one blunt thrust. A quiet scream flies from your mouth, your chest heaving.

“Don’t be like this,” Rafe grunts, arrogance dripping from his lustful timbre. “I know you’ve been missing how my fat cock feels inside that tight little pussy, right?”

“We’re broken up, Rafe,” you wheeze out, struggling to catch your breath as your walls strain at his size.

“So?” He pulls out of you, only to sheathe himself inside your wet heat again. Your eyes roll back, your fingers clutching weakly at the sheets.

Rafe’s half-lidded gaze darkens as he drinks you in, his tone getting possessive.

“You’re in my bed, wearing my shirt. I’d say that makes you mine.”

The protests on your tongue evaporate, your thoughts dipping into a tailspin as Rafe slams his cock inside your dripping cunt. Desperation and lust marks each of his deep, pointed thrusts. Your head tosses over the pillows.

Stars fill your sight, pleasure swirling through your limbs. Air dwindles in your lungs as he stretches you out deliciously. His thick cock brushes against your sweet spot repeatedly and your lids flutter. Rafe’s own breaths grow more ragged. His throat bobs, his hard muscles clenching with his motions. He balances his arm above your head, looming over you as sweat dots on his brow.

His warm breath grazes your face as he chuckles.

“It’s like coming home, right? Like I never left.”

“I’m gonna get my shit together. I swear to you, angel.” He rests his forehead against yours. Rafe’s masculine scent floods your senses and your mind spins. You keen as he snaps his taut hips into yours, helpless as Rafe cages you with his frame. “Just don’t leave me again, okay? Please, I need you.”

Over the next few weeks, while his arm is healing, you and Rafe relapse into old habits. First, it’s that night at his house, the one that stirs your unease for a while. Then it’s a quickie in the back of his truck after he offers to drop you off one day. Progressively, it becomes more than that. Dates and late night calls, like before. 

Rafe complaining to you for hours about Sarah or the weight of his dad’s expectations. Rafe sending flowers to your doorstep. Rafe making butterflies swarm in your stomach when he tells you that you’re the only one who understands him.

The walls you erected crumble day by day, shattered by his persistence to win you back. He showers you with gifts and attention on a near daily basis now, even going as far as planning the most romantic evening for Valentine’s day. Though you had plans with your friends, Rafe is so adamant to have you all to himself that you ditch Galentine's day cocktails to be with him.

Slowly but surely, the Cameron heir weasels his way back into your heart. 

Most of your friends aren’t thrilled with your decision, of course. Marissa in particular.

“Guys like him don’t change,” she tells you one night as he’s blowing up your phone with texts inquiring about your whereabouts. You fervently disagree. He’s just worried about you, you convince yourself. That's how much he cares.

Of course Rafe has changed. He’s earning your trust, one day at a time. He has his temper in check. He’s better now. He’s proven it several times.

Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?

Besides, though you struggle to admit it, there’s something intoxicating about being Rafe Cameron’s girlfriend. A feeling so heady and electric. One you shamefully kind of missed.

You trust Rafe. Those are the words that keep playing in your mind as you wait for him downstairs. You fiddle with your solo cup, taking a tiny sip of your beer. Techno music blares from the speakers in Kelce’s living room. The girls next to you gossip about a crush on some guy you don’t know. You feign interest, giving a dull nod and a smile every now and then. Lavish, hedonistic Kook parties aren’t exactly your scene anymore. Rafe practically had to drag you here.

The initial plan was to meet with your friends tonight. But Rafe closed off when you told him that. He then pleaded with you to come. You caved in, because refusing him has been incredibly difficult since the accident. So you’ve stopped trying to argue with him. 

You go along with most of what he asks, even if it stirs your discomfort at times. 

You glance at the time on your phone. 

Rafe said he needed to go to the bathroom earlier. 

That was nearly thirty minutes ago. Your brows draw together. Taking a leak shouldn’t take that long in theory, right? Or are you this paranoid now?

Still, you can’t quell the dread tickling your insides. A sense of deja vu seeps through you.

Your feet carry you upstairs, guided by your urgent need to find Rafe. 

Kelce’s house is huge and you nearly get lost multiple times. Your cheeks flame as you stumble upon a couple in one of the guest rooms. You hastily apologize and slam the door shut, resuming your search. It takes you a long time of blind wandering through endless corridors before you find him. 

He’s indeed in a bathroom. At least that, he didn’t lie about…unlike the line of coke he’s snorting above the sink.

“Rafe?” you call, frozen on the doorstep. “What are you doing?”

A brief glimpse of panic flits across his face before he bursts out in laughter.

He makes his way to you and tilts your chin upward.

“It’s a party, I’m just having fun. You should try it sometime.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not the point. You promised...”

Rafe sniffs, wiping the remnants of white powder beneath his nose.

“Come on, just relax.” He crowds your space, placing his hands on each side of you on the door. It slams shut as Rafe presses his body against yours, his voice sinking to a lewd rasp. “Why don’t you and I get into the hot tub downstairs and…”

“No,” you assert. “You promised, Rafe. No more drugs.”

When he tries to cup your cheek, you shove his hand away. His jaw clenches.

“Why do you always have to be such a stuck up bitch?”

An astonished breath leaps off your throat.

“I’m sorry?”

Instead of apologizing, a broad grin stretches on his lips, “I’m just saying. Maybe you’re the one who needs to loosen up.”

You note the hollowness in Rafe’s eyes and the sweat glistening over his bare skin.

Tears rush to your eyes. You’ve learnt to recognize the signs. Empty promises, like always. Why did you expect things to be different this time?

You jump back from the door, slipping beneath Rafe’s arm. Wiping irate tears, you glare at him.

“This was a mistake. My friends were right. You’re never going to change.” 

You are such a fool. The depth of his deception didn’t hit you until you saw him bent over that sink. You caught him this time. Who knows how many times Rafe lied right to your face?

Once more, you allowed him to drag you into his spiral, offering no resistance and believing every sweet word and promise.

Closing your eyes, you suck in a deep breath. You think back to the last few weeks, to every time you surrendered an inch and Rafe took a mile. And you just let it happen. You land on a decision. This is the last time you let Rafe Cameron puppeteer his way back into your life.

You make a beeline for the exit. He impedes your path, towering over you as he stands before the door.

“Get out of my way, Rafe,” you hiss.

Rafe squints at you, taking slow, threatening steps towards you.

“Why? So you can leave me, again?” Something lurks in Rafe’s gaze, turning his blue eyes almost black. Chills crawl over your spine. You shrink, retreating as far as the restricted space in the bathroom allows. “No way, you’re not leaving me.”

You chew on your lip, a surge of adrenaline spiking through your veins. You try to run past him but he grabs your wrists and slams you harshly against the bathroom wall.

Your voice comes out a quivering sob.

“Rafe, don’t you dare…”

As you try to wrestle out of his hold, he bangs your head against the tiles. Sharp needles of pain pierce through your skull. You grow dizzy as your legs start shaking. Rafe uses the momentum to push you onto the floor. 

“Dare what, huh? Take what’s mine?” he snarls. His broad body drapes over yours. You taste the liquor on his tongue as he steals your lips in a rough, possessive kiss. A sick laugh leaves him when you bite his lip, drawing blood. A metallic taste fills your mouth. Through your hazy sight, you watch with horror as Rafe unbuttons his pants. 

He reaches under your dress, tearing your panties with one tug of his hand. Fear floods your veins. You writhe underneath him as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I think you’re forgetting, angel. You’re nothing without me.” His taunting whisper sears into your skin like a hot knife. “I made you, little Kook princess.”

Your mouth opens, a scream building in your throat. But it never makes its way past your lips, Rafe wrapping his hand around your neck as he impales you on his cock. Helpless whimpers roll off your tongue as he sets an unforgiving pace right away, ignoring each of your tearful pleas for him to stop. His scalding breaths ghost over your face. Beads of sweat drip from his skin to yours. Sobs shake your frame as you writhe beneath him, left with no other choice but to be the vessel for his anger and lust.

“I need you, just like you need me,” he mumbles hotly, trailing bites and kisses alongside your neck. The room dims around you with each painful stab of Rafe’s cock inside your bruised core.

The hand around your neck tightens, Rafe’s wrathful baritone edging on a roar.

“Don’t you ever try to leave me again. I won’t be able to take it, angel. In fact…” His lips skim over your earshell as he whispers, “I’d rather fucking kill you and myself before letting you walk out on me again.”

[rorylovesmatt]

insomnia - Matthew sturniolo

summary: matt is having a hard time sleeping so he calls the only person he knows will help.

word count: 532

a/n: i don’t know what to write next 💔 if you have any request send them my way! also the lyrics don’t really match but it’s okay…

Matt laid in bed staring at the ceiling. The clock on his nightstand flashed 2:37 AM. The bright numbers were a harsh reminder of how late it had become. He sighed turning over for what felt like the hundredth time that night, but no position seemed comfortable. His mind was a whirl of thoughts. None of which seemed to settle down enough to let him sleep

He knew this feeling all too well. Nights when his brain just wouldn’t shut off, when every little worry and thought increased in the silence. But tonight felt different, heavier, and he knew there was only one person who could help him through it

Reaching for his phone he hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to wake her up but he needed her… badly. With a deep breath he scrolled to her name in his contacts and hit call

The phone rang twice before he heard her sleepy voice on the other end. “Matt? Is everything okay?”

The concern in her voice made his chest tighten with guilt but at the same time it was a comfort to hear her. “I’m sorry for waking you up Y/n” he said softly. “I just... I can’t sleep”

There was a pause and he could almost see her sitting up in bed rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Is something on your mind?” she asked gently

“I don’t even know” he admitted, frustration creeping into his voice. “I just feel agitated. Like I can’t shut my brain off”

Y/n was quiet for a moment, then she spoke, her voice soothing. “Do you want to talk about it? Or would you rather just hear my voice?”

Matt felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth despite everything. She always knew just what he needed. “I think I just need you” he said. His voice barely above a whisper

“Okay” she replied softly, “I’m here. Why don’t you close your eyes and try to relax?”

He did as she said, closing his eyes and focusing on the sound of her voice. She started talking about their day, the little things they’d done together, the way she’d laughed at one of his bad jokes, and the plans they had for the weekend

As she talked he could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away. It was as if her voice was wrapping around him, comforting him in a way that nothing else could. He didn’t need to respond, she knew that just hearing her was enough

Minutes passed and Matt felt himself slipping into a calm, peaceful state. Her voice became softer, almost like a lullaby, and before he knew it, his breathing had evened out, his mind finally quiet

“Are you feeling better?” she asked after a while, her voice barely a murmur

“Yeah,” he whispered back, his words slurred with sleep. “Thank you Y/n. I love you”

“I love you too Matt” she replied softly. “Get some rest now”

With her voice still echoing in his ears Matt finally drifted off. knowing that no matter what, she would always be there to help him. Even if it was in the middle of the night

[doumadono]

Hello, princess!

Since Sinful Sunday is here and its been a while from my last time spawing in your inbox... YOUR WOLF IS HERE 🐺💎🩵

As we all know: dragons are often showed with two 🍆 so...

I can't stop but think about our beloved Iudex of Fontaine, just giving his lovely assistant a good duble stuffing into her tiny cunt. With him whispering soft and dirty stuff into her ear while his hand just caressing the bulge he caused in her belly

:3 HAPPY SINFUL SUNDAYS EVERYONE

SINFUL SUNDAY

A/N: well, well, my babygirl! Why is it that your requests always turn out to be the real brain-busters, huh!? But hey, tackling Neuvilette in dragon form was a blast 😏 I'm hoping I did well, so go easy on me, will ya?

Neuvilette loathed this monthly occurrence. While not a regular happening, his heats sporadically struck after each interlunar interval. This left him in an intense state of longing, coupled with a rather sour mood, given the frustration of unmet desires. Throughout this period, he confined himself to his chambers, enduring the discomfort until the fervor and accompanying torment subsided.

During his heats, Neuvilette found solace in transforming into a dragon. It made resisting the temptation to copulate with every woman in his path a whole lot easier for him.

For extended hours, he'd find solace in grinding his hips against his pillows and sheets, attempting to alleviate the persistent discomfort of his arousal that created a painful knot within his groin. The effectiveness varied — sometimes it brought relief, and other times, it offered no respite whatsoever.

With a wide yawn revealing numerous long teeth, a colossal head adorned in pale blue frills lifted itself. The snake-like body, embellished in iridescent scales, boasted a chest adorned with a mane of transparent fur. Enormous, clawed fists rhythmically clenched and relaxed as the dragon effortlessly rose to his feet, a massive tail gracefully swinging in its wake. The creature's dark blue eyes blinked open, while his nostrils expanded to welcome a fresh scent of human into his awareness.

His thin lips curled as the hydro dragon shifted his gaze to the opposite side of the expansive chamber where he rested, emitting a loud sniff. The scent conveyed the presence of a woman – fairly young and with other unspoken needs. His eyes narrowed into glowing slits as he navigated the corner of his bedroom, spotting the silhouette by his desk diligently assembling documents. Another quick sniff and a subtle grin played on his lips - he recognized the familiar scent. It was Y/N, one of his most reliable assistants, apparently delivering another set of documents for his signature.

Brave or foolish, maybe a bit of both, stepping into this place during this time of the month, the dragon mused to himself with a deep rumble in his voice.

The dragon glided closer with cautious steps, his sinuous body gracefully twisting around you.

Unaware of his approach, you continued to hum a gentle melody under your breath. A sudden awareness dawned as you perceived a looming shadow. Startled, you raised your head and attempted to wriggle away. "Monsieur Neuvilette!" you exclaimed, hand over your chest. "Good gracious, you startled me! I had no idea you were in your chamber, monsieur."

"Please, be calm," the dragon murmured in a soothing tone, "I have no wish to harm you, dearest Y/N."

"I… didn't know I would wake you up, I didn't want to disturb your peace," you stammered after an uneasy pause, your eyes unwavering. The marvel at the sight of Neuvilette was twofold – a mix of awe and a hint of fear regarding his possible reaction to your intrusion. Indeed, Neuvilette was a magnificent creature! The glisten of his smooth blueish-white scales, the cascade of a silky white mane adorning his head, and the kindness reflected in his dark marine blue eyes were as breathtaking as the legends and paintings had portrayed.

"Solitude suits me, indeed," the dragon replied, his nostrils subtly flaring. "Especially during my heats. But I assume you've brought me some crucial documents, haven't you, my dearest?"

His thick tail coiled gently around your legs, offering a comforting warmth that eased your tension. "Y-Yes, monsieur. They need to be signed by tomorrow… Can I somehow repay for bothering you and waking you up, monsieur?" you asked, your words slipping out before careful consideration.

In those immense eyes, you observed a dance of emotions. The dragon appeared to ponder, deeply inhaling the air as his head lifted, pointing towards the ceiling. "I suppose… there is a way you could serve me, my dearest Y/N. But fear not, it demands no great effort on your part — only a willingnes."

"What do you mean, monsieur Neuvilette?" you inquired, tilting your head slightly. The tail encircling your legs tightened, a hint of your tension causing the massive creature to pause.

Neuvilette brought his face inches from yours, his voice carrying a gentle plea. "What I seek from you is your willingness to share this night with me, my dearest. Will you, just for tonight, play the role of my mate?"

In an instant, all color drained from your face. Your mouth opened, yet no words found their way out, and the dragon drew you closer to his shredded, scaled chest in response.

"You need not fear any harm," the dragon reassured, once again delicately sniffing you as during the initial examination. "I shall be gentle. My kind has mated with humans in the past. I assure you," a claw gently lifted your chin while another stroked your throat, "this night will leave you with naught but a delightful memory."

With a deep sigh, you closed your eyes, and as you reopened them, your pants were neatly folded on the floor. Your white shirt and underclothes soon joined them as you undressed, your heart pounding within your chest.

The dragon's lips curled into a fanged smile, and a long tongue emerged, briefly caressing your cheek. It was warm and slick, yet not unpleasant. "Wonderful," the dragon bemurmured, observing your nervous smile. Once more, the tongue glided over your cheek, this time lingering for a longer moment. "It's been ages since I've had the fortune of a human woman in my bed, especially one as lovely as yourself, dearest Y/N."

"Thank you," you whispered, a blush gracing your features as you briefly shielded your bare breasts with folded arms.

He nudged your side with his snout, a signal for you to venture deeper into the chamber, a cue you promptly followed.

He gestured for you to recline on a king-sized bed, dressed in deep cobalt sheets and adorned with pristine white pillows. Without hesitation, you complied, gently pressing your thighs together and allowing your hands to gracefully depart from your chest.

Soon, Neuvilette's nose and mouth roamed across your form, exploring with snuffs, licks, and playful nips in various places.

Already tantalized by the affectionate gestures, your arousal heightened as the dragon shifted to all fours, hovering over your naked form. You observed something stout emerging from behind his muscular hind legs, a few drops of thick fluid trailing from it as he leaned forward. The dragon now stood over his claim, a half-open mouth revealing a tongue, and marine blue eyes narrowing in a moment of intensity.

"Ah, the agony of not enjoying this every night," the dragon rumbled, your fingers tracing his shaft. It matched the length of your forearm and doubled in girth, pulsating with an enticing energy beneath the soft moonlight streaming through the chamber's ceiling window. Imagining it nestled between your thighs, your core tightened and grew moist in response.

But then, a peculiar sensation gripped you. Casting him a questioning glance, the dragon responded with a knowing smile.

"Indeed, my dearest Y/N, the legends harbored a kernel of truth. Dragons do possess two cocks."

Swiftly, you rested on one elbow, your gaze naturally drawn between his muscular hind legs. A deep blush painted your cheeks as you discovered yet another erect member, pulsating with equal fervor as the first.

Neuvilette's warm tongue traced delicately along the valley between your breasts. "Do you like what you see, my dearest?"

"Yes, monsieur, I just never thought…" you murmured, your lips barely moving.

Swiftly adopting a stance akin to the dragon looming overhead, you took a calming breath and shut your eyes after getting on all fours on the bed.

The outsized dragon pressed his yet-turgid shafts against the expanse of your soft thighs, emitting a low moan as his jaws hovered threateningly over your bare shoulder, teeth grazing without leaving a trace. In a prolonged hiss, the dragon murmured, "How shall I claim you, my dearest? With gentle tenderness or the full extent of my might? Whichever way you wish it, so shall it be."

"I'll take whatever you've got, monsieur Neuvilette," you replied, casting a bold glance over your shoulder at the pulsating dicks.

Their tips were now slick with a dense, creamy fluid, and a shiver ran through you as they glided between your thighs, offering a preview of the impending encounter.

A couple more deep, resonant breaths, a hefty grunt, and the first dragon's shaft eased halfway in your waiting, already drenched slit.

Your eyes instinctively closed, a gasp escaping you, not from pain, but from the unexpected heat emanating from his dick. It felt as though all the dragon's potent warmth converged right there, in his throbbing, large shaft. Every slight motion was accompanied by loud, wet sounds, the dragon adjusting his position with his nose hovering close to the pillow on your right. He harnessed his strength in his hind legs, delivering a forceful thrust that had you crying out for more.

"O-Oh! Goodness gracious! How's that even possible? That you fit in?!!"

Neuvilette chuckled softly, his voice taking on a guttural quality as he quickened his thrusting pace. "You see, my dearest Y/N, I've mentioned before that my kind has mated with humans. How did you think that was possible if you, females, wouldn't be able to accommodate our shafts?"

Each successive thrust grew more potent, propelling additional lengths of the deep blue, rigid flesh into your dripping pussy from behind. The viscous fluid flowed generously out of your abused core, trailing down your parted legs while the shaft pulsated relentlessly, gaining intensity with each beat, akin to a powerful heartbeat.

In an instant, a loud squeak escaped your lips as you sensed a more insistent pressure against your occupied entrance. Glancing over your shoulder, your expression paled at the sight of Neuvilette attempting to maneuver his other dick in. "Neuvilette! You're going to tear me apart!" you gasped, your eyes welling up with the nearly overwhelming pleasure he was already bestowing upon you as his thick cock rubbed along all of your sweet spots.

"Ease up, my dearest Y/N," Neuvilette murmured, smoothly almost fully withdrawing his first shaft before seamlessly layering the second one atop the first and slowly pushing back into you.

Your hands surrendered as he executed the forceful thrust, and the initial stretch proved excruciating. It felt like a searing burn in those first moments, leaving you growling and panting uncontrollably, tears straining your flushed cheeks pressed hardly into the mattress.

"There, there, relax, and you'll manage," Neuvilette coaxed in the gentlest tone he could summon. "Stop tightening up, try to ease your pelvis. Yes, just like that," he praised as you eventually succeeded in relaxing your muscles enough for him to bottom out.

The dragon's tail lifted off the bed, and Neuvilette let out a growl followed by a resounding roar. Heat surged within him as his powerful thrusts, almost forceful enough to break the small human form nestled between his colossal legs, intensified.

Gasping for breath, you'd already experienced a shattering climax and teetered on the brink of another. Your entire body dripped with sweat, and drool hung from your parted lips. The pleasure unleashed by this formidable dragon surpassed anything you could have audaciously imagined. "Neuvilette!" your voice rasped as you cum for another time; your inner walls spasmed uncontrollably around his throbbing, painfully hard shafts.

With one last, hard push, Neuvilette pressed you firmly onto the mattress, grasping the meat of your stuck out ass. A gush of heated, sticky cum erupted from his throbbing dicks, followed by a second, and ultimately a gentler third wave, marking the hydro dragon's descent into exhaustion after intense sex, his breaths now feeble and hurried.

Beneath him, you lay in a state of bliss, your entire body shaking and tingling. Your sticky pussy radiated warmth, and the powerful twinges and aftershocks of an already remarkable climaxes created an unforgettable sensation, unlike anything you had ever experienced in your entire life.

"Thank you, my dearest Y/N," Neuvilette whispered, and you nodded. "Thank you for helping me shake off the tension that's been hanging around for days," he admitted, lying on the bed next to you. He casually draped his long tail over your legs while you reclined beside him on your back.

Then, impulsively playful, you rolled to your side and planted a quick kiss on his bluish snout.

The dragon chuckled, his resonant voice emanating from his robust chest. "Aren't you the cutest assistant, my dearest Y/N?" he mused, yawning widely, revealing rows of perfectly sharp fangs.

You lay there for a moment, catching your breath. "Neuvilette…"

The dragon's dark eyes found yours, and he nodded, granting you permission to speak.

"Would you… I mean, forgive me for the strange question, but maybe next time your heat occurs, perhaps you would need some help too?" you asked shyly, your cheeks turning beet red.

His marine-blue irises shimmered with tenderness as he hummed, contemplating your words. "Little Y/N," he smiled, drawing closer and resting his snout on your naked belly, his gaze meeting your flushed face. "I'll be honored to accept aid from the only one I trust the most." He sniffed and grinned, casting a sly glance toward your glistening mound on his left. "I adore your scent," he confessed, casually bestowing a few gentle licks upon your folds glistening with mixed releases with his warm, extended tongue. "And you taste absolutely delicious, my dearest. Oh, my, my, I'll struggle to wait for the next heat to savor your essence once more, to assert my claim on you. Perhaps then, I'll allow you a glimpse of my human form, in all its vulnerable splendor."

[achrams]

𝐑𝐪-𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: On your nightly walk you run into a stranger, who befriending seems a lot more beneficial that previously thought.

𝐂𝐰: Vampires, blood, biting and obviously some good dry humping.

Being a huge fan of all things mythical had always been a part of your life. The idea of living in a world full of creatures that were better and stronger, probably more attractive too, though that just might be your humble opinion, it all filled you with excitement. That fascination had transferred over to your later stages in life, given how often you had hoped to catch one of those creatures of the night. Any would do, you just wanted proof that you were right. That this world had more to offer than plain grey days mashed into one dull blob.

Though despite your biggest efforts nothing seemed to work, nothing  at all. You’ve practically tried everything you know! If you look past the fact that all the information you held had come from reddit of all places, but that's beside the point. What mattered is you didn’t give up. Not an ounce of determination was left unused. Every single day the routine progressed until you didn’t even realise it had become a part of your life.

---

The days had turned to months and those into years. The hope was not lost but it was faltering ever so gradually, the countless tries had formed smaller and smaller acts. If before you went out of your way to really create contraptions or play chemist in your kitchen, then now you murmured a few sentences from a ‘spellbook’ before bed. It wasn’t much but it was something, because you still had some hope. Even if it was little and fragile.

On a fortunate evening, you had decided to take a stroll around the park that surrounded your lousy flat. A sanctuary between the tall rubbled buildings. You didn’t know what urge had pulled you into the crisp nightly air but you decided not to worry your head over it, no need to start overthinking. ‘My body just needs some fresh air..’ That's good enough of a reason for you.

Taking the first step outside was nice and relaxing after having to escape the rotten to the core hallways and clunky elevators of your building. It was a nice reminder that even in a place like this, there was a chance at some peace. A deep breath in, you closed your eyes for a moment. Savouring the gentle breeze and fresh air that rejuvenated your tired body.

The stars looked back at you when you opened your eyes despite liking the use of your other senses. “This is nice… every night should glow like this..” The words had left your lips without any further thought. Seems your heart let the love you held for the night out without seeking permission from your brain. It was a pretty sight were it not covered by clouds or light pollution most of the time.

A crack was heard and you snapped your head behind you. Eyes squinted from the darkness but also to show the concern that threatened to paint the canvas of your face. ‘There's no one here. Calm down.’ You thought to yourself as you took small steps backwards, keeping your eyes in the direction of the suspicious sound. ‘Just in case.’ That’s what you told yourself as the silence you once found peaceful now turned into something more of a lingering tension.

“Ookay, one step at a time..we are good..we are okay. I am totally not being creeped out-!” Your inner thoughts had turned to a monologue, between yourself and this ‘totally not there’ being in a bush, somewhere in the middle of your descending steps. Another step backwards and a plethora of emotions filled your core. Fear, surprise and then relief on top. All because a cat decided to jump out of the bush you had your eyes locked onto.

“Oh thank god..” The words breathed out into the chilly night as you rested your hand on your heart for a moment. You knew for certain that you weren’t insane now, it had just been a cat! Nothing to worry about. Stretching yourself up straight from this odd half hunched position, you turned around to actually go on this walk of yours, instead of fighting with cats that probably wouldn’t even bat an eye in your direction.

As soon as you turned around you got a face full of something hard. “Ow!” Rubbing your hand against your forehead from the impact. A few groans left you before you managed to apologise to whoever you had turned into.

“Sorry about that, I wasn't looking where I was going.” You spoke as you finally opened your eyes to be met with a guy. Not just any guy, a guy whom you have never seen before in your building or anywhere near this outhouse of an area. It was surprising to say the least. Meeting up with a complete stranger in the middle of the night. Totally not suspicious.

“Ah, it's alright. You seemed distracted enough, I should have said something.” You shrugged back at the apology being granted to you. A little sheepishly, letting go of your head to try and get a better look at this mystery man in this low lighting. ‘An accent. Interesting.’

“Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you before.” The words were friendly enough despite the eerie way everything had been playing out thus far.

A moment of silence filled the air, sadly the awkward kind. ‘Nevermind..probably not the best idea to try and make friends at midnight-’ Your inner debate about continuing this conversation was interrupted. “Julien. Nice to meet you.”

Taking his held out hand, you shake it as a sign of respect while Julien continues speaking. “I’m visiting family here. Never seen this area before..quite uncanny of a place.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the description. It fits this place a little too well.

“Yeahh, this is what happens when you work just to get by.” A shrug left you as you sigh, stepping by him as you bury your hands into your jacket. “Hope you find this place at least somewhat pleasing.”

One or two steps past Julien and the guy had seemed to scramble from his spot to walk next to you, awfully happy as he kept looking around and sniffing the air a little. To make the walk a little less awkward you coughed and asked, “Sooo, special day?” to which Julien looked at you confused.

“I mean, you said you were here for family and you look happy…?” A noise of understanding left Julien as he nodded and vibrantly began explaining how some family lived nearby and they were planning to get a whole party set up for a feast of sorts. ‘Foreigner things probably.’ You weren’t one to judge so you nodded and listened.

---

The walk went relatively well, it was honestly quite odd how well the two of you got along and so fast too. Almost like this was fate, if you believed in such a thing. Soon enough you considered Julien a friend, going on midnight walks one too many times to count while he was in the area, but it’s not like you minded. It was nice, Julien was nice.

He had a nice smile that always seemed to shine with every joke you did and his hair, oh his hair, the way it moved when he nodded along when you spoke. Last but not least of all his eyes, they seemed to speak more than Julien himself. So playful and warm with the way he looked at you, making you feel less alone in this city you had to call home. 

Though there always seemed to be a hidden glint in his eyes. When you spoke, seemingly distracted with making the stories more interesting with dramatic hand movements, Julien looked at you. No, he didn’t look, he admired. Took in every detail of your being from top to bottom. You noticed it. Julien wasn’t as slick with his hungry glances and licks of his lips than he thought. You felt his eyes on you more than you’d seen him look at the pathway you two were walking on.

One night, however. you had a lot of fun and out of the blue turned to him after having gained the courage to ask, “Do you want to come over?” Julien looked back at you for a good moment before smiling back at you with one of the biggest smiles you had ever seen. “I thought you’d never ask!” That was all you needed to hear to know that Julien wasn’t some stranger who’d leave you behind after his time here.

No clue where the need and courage came from, especially after registering in your mind that Julien seemed to be eating you up with his eyes every time you two were together. Perhaps you had the urge to hopefully prolong this friendship. It was nice to have a friend when all you knew were creepy elders that probably saw things that weren’t there.

---

With a smile you opened your front door and stepped in, holding the door open with a simple, “Come on in, make yourself at home.” The slight anticipation and worry on Julien’s face faded and he walked in. Muttering a small ‘thank you’ as he walked past you and now that you saw him in actual light, he looked even more ethereal than before.

Guiding him in you showed hospitality by offering drinks, foods, snacks, anything to welcome him but his eyes seemed to be glued onto the odd contraptions around your house. Refusing everything you offered with a smile. Your house gave off a rather interesting and floral vibe, but it seemed out of place for this dry block of a city. Embarrassment flushed your face as you stood before Julien, preventing him from eyeing everything so attentively, then looking down at him so he wouldn’t be inclined to stand up from the couch to take a closer look.

“Uhm, those are nothing, don't mind them!” You chuckled awkwardly, yet he seemed to tilt his head to the side to keep taking glances before Julien mumbled through a hearty laugh. “Are you trying to lure something into your home?” His face held an odd smile, like he knew something. You seemed to be too caught up in your embarrassment to notice that Julien seemed proud.

You averted your gaze to save yourself from the embarrassment of having to explain that from a young age you’ve been into mythicals and have been trying to catch one. With a sigh you sat down next to Julien on your couch and started speaking. Hoping to get this out the way so it wouldn't be brought up again. “You know those childhood stories of werewolves and vampires?” One look in Julien’s way and he was already nodding his head along with a small knowing smile. “So, basically I am convinced they’re actually real…and I might have been trying to see one. By…trying to catch one..”

The sigh you let out was deafening and so was the silence that followed, lingering and looming over the room. A chuckle brought your gaze back up to meet with Julien’s, effectively having broken your insecurity filled thoughts. “No luck then?” You had to laugh along at the absurdity of this confession. “No luck.” You let out an airy chuckle while shaking your head. “ Honestly I’m starting to doubt they were real in the first place.”

Julien seems to hum for a moment, his eyes lingering on you for a bit too long. Turning to properly face him, you give a slight brow raise and Julien smiles. “What if I tell you they are real?” His smirk widens and he seems more and more proud. Smug about something you can’t wrap your head around.

Instead of your confusion subsiding it actually increases. A lot. “You don’t have to lie to me to make childhood me happy.” Dismissing what you had heard. You didn’t need pity for something you had decided to not believe in as of 3 minutes ago.

“I’m not lying.” Julien pushes on and moves closer to you on the couch, trying to see when you would catch on. “They are real.” The scoff that left your lips couldn’t be helped. Looking away with a grumble, you had missed the frown that have made it’s way onto Julien’s face.

“Trust me..” Julien whispers oddly close to you now. You hadn’t even noticed the moment he had leaned over to practically kiss all the way up your neck. With a shiver you turn your head to try and look at Julien. Confused why he’s so adamant on having you believe this fantasy.

Within seconds you feel his lips on your neck, pushing you to lie down on the couch while he straddles you. “You see, I am one of these creatures.” Julien continues, his thighs holding you down on the couch while his hot breath fans your skin. “And my god do you smell divine. You probably taste godly too..”

No time was left for you to voice your scepticism and confusion about how you had ended up in this position. Pinned under Julien.  Because as soon as you wanted to say something, to ease the doubt behind your eyes, Julien had pressed his sharp fangs against your skin. Piercing through it with a satisfying rip only you could hear. ‘They are real. What the fuck!?’ That was your initial reaction before it began morphing.

‘Fuuck..’ your second thought was accompanied a sharp breath in, very well, so well in fact that it gave off the idea you had liked it. Which you, surprise surprise, did like. You had never expected to meet a guy, have him be a vampire, become friends, invite him over and then have him feast on you. Pressing your eyes shut as you came to terms with the tingly and slightly burning sensations that came along with being a blood bag for a vampire. 

To Julien’s surprise you didn’t push him off at all, just lying below him. Taking this. All pinned for him. He could hear your heavy breaths and the way your hands had moved to hold his shoulders. Hands tightening around his shoulders when it had become slightly painful, drawing out a low breath of pure delight. A groan if you will.

With slight hesitancy Julien pulled his teeth out from your skin, lapping the treasured bite clean to both save precious blood and to ensure you didn’t stain anything. Then he looked down at your flushed face with a twinge of amusement. His eyes travelled down to where he was straddling you. Your eyes still pressed shut as you’re more concerned with calming your erratic breathing even though you could feel Julien’s eyes travel down your heaving body.

Julien licked his fangs clean and shifted in his place, drawing out another groan from you. “Someone seems to have liked being fed on.” His words smug as he looks down at you, letting his fingers leave feather-like touches against your neck. The bite he had left there. It sent a thrilling sensation through his body. Seeing how you withered and shivered below him. A perfect guy to snack on.

“You’re mighty hard against me.” The words are more teasing than the last, purposefully grinding his hips against your hard on to prove a point. With a whimper you finally opened your eyes, staring at him with mild embarrassment. “Shut up-”

Your bratty protest was easily silenced by a meticulously constructed grind against you. “Shit- mmh..okay fine it..sort of felt good when you did that.” A fang bearing smile made its way onto Julien’s face. He ran his hand up your torso to play with his bite mark again. “That's rather cute. Getting all hard for me from a bite.” 

Julien leaned down to look into your eyes, holding onto your chin to keep you looking at him. The blush and slightly pouty look on you tugged at Julien’s heartstrings. “How bout this..” he proposed, his words sly and clearly in his favour. “You let me drink some more and as a reward I'll help you out with your problem.”

It didn’t take more than a second of consideration from you, because as soon as the words ahad left Julien's mouth you were already nodding. Begging with your actions to keep this going. You didn’t know why, but it felt so good. So good to have Julien feed off you. Not only did you have proof that these creatures were real. You had one right here on top of you. Only an idiot would let such a perfect opportunity go to waste. Aand you happened to be a self proclaimed genius.

A lick up the other side of your neck earned a shiver alongside a small groan. You could feel how Julien smiled against your skin. It was clear that he was enjoying this a lot more than he let on. You were certainly going to put that information to good use. Feeling how his fangs grazed along the delicate skin of a human, you let your hands sneak their way to Julien’s sides while he was distracted.

With a smirk you held him down against you and bucked your hips up. The sudden action made Julien’s fangs enter your system with a small yelp from him. Having Julien connected to you, sucking out your delicious blood, gave you a perfect recipe for satisfaction. 

Keeping him down atop you, you grind your hips up against him. Feeling the way both friction from your movements and the pressure from your jeans add to your straining dick, it was enough to draw out some breaths and shudders here and there. Though the star of the show was Julien and his fangs that were lodged right into you.

Julien in return had pressed his head against you harder, trying to get as much blood from you as he could. Hands holding your shoulders while he sucked on your neck. As a bonus it seems like your grinding had started to affect him and with small pants against your neck Julien began grinding his hips down against your dick. A perfect melody of pleasure and pain. It was wonderful.

Feeling how both of your straining hard ons pressed against one another. The friction from thrusts into nothing and pressure from trying to stimulate your erections made both of you needy. Feeling how your dick twitched in the limiting confines of your pants urged you to keep going. To satisfy yourself like promised by Julien.

Your already breathy and whiny mouth let out a louder whine from the loss of fangs in your neck. Julien was becoming sloppy, too pleasured out of his mind to continue feeding on you. Truth be told he didn’t need to anymore but you just tasted heavenly to him, so an extra snack later on wouldn’t hurt, yeah?

The sight of your neck stained red with iron, flushed face and parted lips added to Julien’s need for release. He pressed himself down harder and faster, desperately grinding against you with renowned determination. You followed along with just as eager moves against Julien as he moved against you. Hands gripping onto Julien’s hips as you murmur, “Pleasepleaseplease- Mmh!”

Feeling the pit in your stomach tighten, grow warm with every mutual thrust against one another. Pants and frantic bucks driving home the pleasure that threatened to consume. Julien moved down to finally lick your dripping neck clean, the sensation of his wet tongue adding to the immense pleasure of a nearing orgasm.

To your surprise however, it seemed that the licked up blood didn’t make it to Julien’s system, but instead was consumed by you. His lips pressing against yours as he forced you to taste yourself. The metallic liquid coating both of your mouths. It was a sudden chance and one that gave the final push.

With a groan into the kiss and a relatively more forceful thrust against Julien, you came with a shudder, feeling how Julien had done the exact same. Shuddering and panting against each other. Body convulsing against the couch as you come down from your high. Julien sat up straight, letting go of the kiss in a sensual way with his lips begging to stay connected to yours. To have your taste a little longer.

Julien breathed heavily on top of you, enjoying the sight of a satisfied human and being a satisfied vampire himself. Both of you letting out heavy whines and pants as blotches of sticky and wet residue slowly seep through both of your pants. It was a little pathetic. At least both of you came, right?

“You taste godly, and I bet you would feel even more exquisite.” Julien panted the words out as he watched you shudder when he touched your softening dick. “Unfortunately, I'm more than full for now.” 

Feeling how your chin was made to face Julien, you forced your eyes open and he smiled back at you. That same damned sweet smile. “I'll be back for a taste soon enough, make sure you rejuvenate yourself.” A quick cheeky kiss was pressed against your lips before Julien got off you. Swiftly moving to the closest exit, which happened to be a window, and leaving through that.

Your unfocused eyes only caught a glimpse of his figure turning to shadows as he disappeared into the night after murmuring something of a ‘Good vampire summoner’.

You were too hazed out of your mind to properly make sense of everything. Panting and overwhelmed, still coming down from your climax. ‘How the fuck did I get myself into this mess?’ You murmur to yourself as you finally let the activities of your day and now vampire filled night take over. Closing your eyes to get some rest and then maybe…hopefully think about this with a clear head tomorrow.

‘...shit.’ You couldn’t fall asleep at all. All you could think about was how it felt to have Julien sink his teeth into you and lap up your blood. Yeah…you better go and take care of your needy erection before you accidently manage to summon an incubus.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Lost and found

a/n a lot of you wanted a part two to the blurb I posted a bit ago. So here it is, Rhys!sister x Rhys and Azriel x reader. The first part is here. Enjoy

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Azriel watches you sleep. It took them hours to calm you down. Hours of you having snippets of your past ripping through your tortured brain. Hours of sobs turning to screams towards the end. Azriel held you through it all. Heart breaking at the sight of you in pain. His own emotions so jumbled and twisted. Yes, a part of him felt joy that you had found a piece of your shared past. That it brought you back. Back to him. Back from the grave he had buried you in. But with the healers worrying about you frying yourself from within. Too many stimulations. Too many emotions. It hung over Azriel like a blade. Threatening to take you away for good.

His fingers moved over your forehead. Soothing you in your sleep. Trying to keep the lurking dreams away. To give you blankness. Emptiness. A true chance at rest. Only after hours of listening to your steady breathing does he push up. The thought of leaving you frightened him but he wanted to have food and water by hand. In case you woke up. Your favorite bits to eat. Something to give your body strength.

“You should have told me”, a voice cuts through the dim corridor. Azriel only takes a steadying breath in, “It wouldn’t have mattered at the time”. He knew Rhys was gonna torment him about this. He didn’t expect it to happen so soon. “You matting my sister seems like a pretty big fucking deal to me”, his dark frame cuts Azriel’s path. The always neatly ironed shirt looked crumpled. Something Rhys usually never allowed to happen. “It happened fast”, Azriel let out a sigh, “I was escorting her to your mother. And it just… snapped into place. I touched her palm Rhys, my finger brushing the inside of her palm and that was all it took”, the spymaster tugged at the roots of his hair in frustration. Rhys simply shakes his head, “You… that night you were a manic. You killed like there was no tomorrow”, “I thought she was dead, Rhys, there was no tomorrow for me”, Azriel cuts in, a frustrated growl slips past his lips of being forced to remember the pain. “You should have told me, you mourned her all alone. I dump my pain on you and…”, Rhys grunts, “How did mother found out?”

Azriel brushes a hand over his face, “She saw us by the carriage. I think we both stopped breathing for a while just stared at one another. She just offered to take us to the priestess”. Rhys watched Azriel for a moment. Little snippets from the past finally fall together. Finally making sense. “I’m not mad, I’m disappointed that you didn’t feel that you could trust me with this”, the words sting. But they would have no matter the way that truth would have come out.

A part of Azriel wants to make peace between them. Settle the argument between them both for good. But it’s the shriek that has them both turning towards the door just down the hall. Both break into a sprint straight away. The sight is enough to break both of their hearts all over again. Your shaking frame is on the floor. The sheets pooling around you. Azriel kneels in front of you first. Hands reaching out to you. “It hurts”, you mutter, eyes closing as tears stream down your face. “I know my love”, he sighs, kissing your knuckles. “I want to remember but I… I can’t do this anymore”, your hands find your scalp as you claw at your skin. Azriel is quick to stop your movements. Your eyes look up, landing on your brother. “Rhys”, you mutter and it sends a shiver down his body. “I’m so sorry”, another sob slips past your lips but you’re met with the high lord sinking to his knees. Arms outstretched as he calls you in. Azriel’s hand guides your back as you practically crawl onto Rhys’s lap. His arms wrap around you instantly. “You have nothing to apologize for, all I care about is that you are here, with me, with us, that’s enough”, his fingers slowly brush through your hair. “Let me”, Rhys breathes, and it’s more of a beg but you find yourself nodding slowly. You feel his magic slowly seeping into your skin, numbing you from within. His sad eyes burn into you. You only blink at him, feeling your body sag slowly as his power clamps around your mind. You refused it the first time around. Frightened by the thought of anyone getting that close to you ever again. Of taking control like that. A silent tear slips down your cheek as you watch him watch you. You feel the familiar sensation of Azriel’s scared palms grazing your hand, as he intertwines both of your fingers together. “Squeeze Az’s hand when you want me to stop”, Rhys's hands move down your back as he tries to soothe you. You blink twice before trying to turn your head slightly, failing miserably. “Az”, your voice doesn’t sound like your own but you feel the reassuring squeeze, “I’m right beside you, you’re not alone”, and that’s enough to make you close your eyes once more. The feeling of two men a brother and a lover, sat on the floor just to soothe you. Just to make it better. Relief flows through your veins as you give up your consciousness to the brother you didn’t know you had. To the brother that came back in fragments. To the lost and found.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@locotreofthegods @shadowsingers-redhood @everyonehatescarmen @theravenphoenix26 @shadowsingercassia you guys left a comment so I thought I would tag you. ✨

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi sex witch! This is kinda a scary ask to send but you’ve always seemed kind to other people asking scary questions so I feel brave enough to ask. So I’m a person with what I would say a fairly healthy and positive attitude abt sex- big fan of jacking off when the mood strikes and I’ve had a few partners. However, something that is really upsetting and scary to me are sex dreams because a lot of times I have dreams abt having sex with ppl I shouldn’t be having sex with and DONT WANT to be having sex with- notably, my father and my brother. I have strange dreams normally- anxiety related usually- but I HATE waking up from these dreams, I feel so sick and ashamed. I’m not even generally attracted to men, and these dreams make me feel like I need to second guess my identity. Additionally, my father is dead so I wake up feeling like my brain has disrespected his memory.

I’m trying to get a therapist for other unrelated reasons but a) my insurance is terrible and I’m having trouble finding someone in network and b) I would be so scared to say these things to a therapist - what if I’m secretly much more mentally ill than I knew, what if they hospitalize me, what if they put me on a sex offender registry?

Beyond “go to therapy” is there any advice you can offer me? It’s really very distressing and I’m really sick of it.

hi anon,

let's take a BIG DEEP BREATH before we start, okay?

so, first and foremost let me just say this, because it's important: nobody is going to hospitalize you or put you on a registry for something happening in your dreams. your dreams are not necessarily a reflection of anything you want or would enjoy in real life; your dreams are a pile of goo your brain spits out while its sifting information around trying to make a bunch of pieces fit together. unfortunately, I worry that you amount of stress and anxiety you feel about these dreams may be keeping them so front and center in your mind that makes them keep coming up over and over when you're asleep, creating a vicious cycle.

listen, I can't tell you how to change or feel better about your dreams. but I can tell you that people having sexual dreams that are in no way indicative of their actual desires is INCREDIBLY COMMON. none of those people are a danger to themselves or anyone else because of something their subconscious does that's entirely beyond their control, and that includes you.

having said that, it's totally understandable that you find these dreams disturbing and upsetting. for the time being, while you're managing them on your own, try to get yourself to a calm place while you're getting ready for bed - whatever works for you, whether it's mindfulness, melatonin, exercise, tea, warm bath and candles, taking time away from your phone, etc - and preparing space to be gentle with yourself and get into a good headspace when you wake up by making an extra nice breakfast, taking a long shower, going for a long walk, or anything else that will help you get out of your head and take care of yourself in the aftermath of an upsetting dream.

and if you do manage to find a reliable therapist soon, which I hope you do, I would strongly encourage you to bring this up with them if the problem is still persisting by then. anything causing you anxiety and distress is something that is worth talking over with a therapist, especially since leaving one stress factor unaddressed can also hold you back from resolving others - it's hard to focus on anything when restful sleep is off the table. once you've established a good rapport with a therapist, some conversations around this could be super helpful for you.

wishing you the best with finding some peace of mind xoxo

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

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[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 17

part 1, prev part

Wayne’s hands are clenched so hard they’re starting to hurt. Wrapped around the wrist of burning anger. His nephew’s eyes boring into his soul, filled with confusion. Resentment and fear.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Eddie was supposed to wake up slowly. Calmly. Surrounded by people he loved. Bringing him back into a world he was almost lost to. There were going to be questions, there were going to be answers. But, anger, Wayne was refusing to believe it.

“Son, calm down,” he tries to reason with the anger in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re not in danger here.”

Eddie’s eyes blink blankly. As his nostrils flare with struggled breaths. Arm pulling away from Wayne’s, trying to break free.

“Fuck you,” he mutters. With all the energy in his soul. Taking everything to insult instead of praise.

In his heart, Wayne knows that these words aren’t true. That the confusion and pain is lacing Eddie’s speech. Keeping him from seeing things properly. Keeping him from reducing that instinct deep in his mind to run and fight.  

Eddie’s always been a runner, ever since he was a kid. Ran away from home all the time to get away from the world. To the woods, to the quarry. Any place where he could get some peace and quiet from the taunts and threats. Where it was just him and his mind, however restless they were. Where he could forget about it all for a while.

It wasn’t a surprise to Wayne that Eddie ran that night. He would have done the same thing. But part of Wayne wishes that Eddie had come to him. So they could figure it all out together. Make a plan that could have saved him from this tormented state. Kept him alive without this ongoing pain.

He sees it in the way Eddie becomes so exhausted from the fight that he falls asleep. Arm finally laying to rest in Wayne’s grip. Body relaxing and returning to the peace Wayne craves for him. Not knowing how much of it will come in the future.

The nurse reinserts the IV into Eddie’s arm. As he pulled it out shortly after gaining consciousness. Scared by the hospital setting. By Wayne. By everything.

Eddie isn’t awake quite yet, Wayne tells himself. There is no way his boy could be awake and angry at him like this. He doesn’t want to believe it.

“Why don’t we talk outside,” the nurse says to him kindly. Sharing a small piece of sympathy with him.

Wayne stands without wanting to. Part of himself glued to that chair, forever stuck in that moment. Where the kind eyes he’s raised were hidden away.

“I am truly sorry for what you just saw, I’m sure it was jarring.”

All Wayne can do is cross his arms and nod. Listening carefully to the nurse with his eyes fixed on the door’s window.

“This form of anger and confusion is not uncommon for patients waking from a coma. Often times, they experience a form of amnesia that takes away the memories right before they came here. And after the brain loses consciousness for as long as Eddie’s has, it can cause more confusion than answers. He doesn’t mean what he says and does, it’s just his body’s response.”

“This amnesia,” Wayne swallows. “How long will it last?”

The nurse makes a sorry expression. “It varies. For some patients, only a few hours, for others, a few days. But now that Eddie’s awake, he’s been healing much faster than the doctor first anticipated. I have no doubt that it will pass soon.”

Wayne nods, thanking the nurse for her time. She leaves him standing in front of the door. Wagering how much pain his heart can take today, and whether he can stand to sit in that chair any longer.

His feet lead him to the payphone. Pulling out just enough quarters for one call, and a crumbled piece of paper with a number scrawled on it. The ringing in the phone reminding him of the sounds outside his head.

“Yeah.” The voice on the phone greets.

“Is this Jim? It’s Wayne. Munson.”

There’s a slight chuckle across the line. “I know who you are, Wayne. Yeah, it’s me. How can I help you?”

“I’m not quite sure. Don’t quite know what’s goin’ on, or why I called you. Just needed some company, I guess.”

“How about you come over to my place,” Jim says after a pause. “If that’s alright with you. We can have a chat with a change of scenery.”

Wayne lets out a shaky breath. “I think that would be nice.”

Jim relays his address before hanging up the phone. Wayne repeating it under his breath as he drives. Not wanting to forget it. The gas light blinking at him as it crawls towards empty. He can’t think about that now. There are already too many things on his plate.

A woman with a warm, inviting smile answers the door. Invites Wayne into the house with the promise of a cup of coffee, leading him to the back yard. Where Jim sits on a chair mismatched from the others. Staring off into the woods.

“Have a seat,” Jim offers with a cigarette.

Wayne takes it with more indulgence than should be necessary. His empty pack still burning a hole in his pocket.

“The weather’s been really nice these last few days, starting to really warm up.”

Wayne releases a long breath, letting the smoke fill the air in front of him. “I guess so.”

He hasn’t really taken notice.

“You meet Joyce?”

Wayne nods.

“Thing is between the two of us,” Jim motions back to the house. “Is that we both know what it’s like to have a kid go through all this hospital bullshit. We know the kind of pain that it brings, seeing them hurting and being helpless to it. It’s not something you’re alone in.”

That doesn’t stop him from feeling alone. Like he’s walking a path rocky and untamed. Vulnerable in ways he’s not used to and afraid to be. Wanting to be the strong pillar for those around him, but cracking in the foundation.

The grass crushes under footsteps as Joyce approaches. Places the mug on the table with stolen diner sugar packets and creamers.

“I didn’t know how you liked it, so I brought options.” She sits beside Jim, folding her hands in her lap. “I heard about Eddie. I’m so sorry. It’s terrible that he’s going through this.”

Wayne nods, staring at the table. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“When my Will first went missing, it was the worst day of my life,” Joyce continues. Bringing her own experience to the table. “I didn’t know where he was, or if he was hurt. How he was going to be when he got back. It’s something I would wish on no parent. At any age.”

There’s this anger that wants to block out what she’s saying. Scream that she doesn’t know his situation. Doesn’t know the pain he’s in. How could she, his situation was unique to him.

But so is hers. And so is Jim’s. And Wayne’s eyes are fixed on a cup of coffee and a cigarette given in kindness. An offering of help for someone who is too proud to ask for it. To admit that this is breaking him.

“Seeing him so weak in that hospital bed,” Joyce speaks through quiet tears. “It was so hard. Seeing him so changed, fighting to stay the same boy that he was before. Knowing that he saw things that I couldn’t even imagine.”

Maybe it was easier to break with people who bear their cracks so openly. Share vulnerabilities so Wayne can be vulnerable too.

“I know what you mean.” Wayne wants to recoil when he hears the wetness in his voice. But he continues. Wanting the burden to be shared so he can breathe a little easier. “Seein’ him today, so full of confusion and fear, it broke me.

“Is he starting to wake up?” Jim asks, genuinely.

Wayne nods, ripping open the sugar packets with shaky hands. “Slowly. I thought it would make it all easier, but it’s not. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to recover from this.”

“You will,” Jim speaks with hardened certainty. “Over time, you’ll start to heal. Forget the pain of the moment. But the real pain, the memories of their faces through all of this, those never quite leave. You just learn to give them less hold over you.”

Joyce reaches and grabs Jim’s hand, threading their fingers together and comforting him. “What matters is that you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re the only people our age who know what really happened, what these kids had to go through. Some of it we don’t. But we make a point to be there for each other, that includes you. It includes Eddie.”

“I appreciate that.”

Wayne lets the coffee cool in his hands. The conversation resulting in silence. Letting the sounds of the forest overtake them. Letting the fresh air travel through their lungs. Wayne finding peace with the forest in front of him. Watching as the birds circle and chirp as the light starts to dim. Returning to their homes for the night.

He knows it’s time to return to his own. Leave Jim and Joyce to their night and stop being a bother. But his home is still a shitty motel that he’s racking the bill up on. Trying to pay as much off as possible when his checks come in, but it’s slim pickings.

And he’s so tired of the isolation. Relaxing into the comforting feeling of sitting in silent company. Or by sitting next to anyone at all. The kindness of somewhat strangers makes Wayne feel more at home than he has in weeks.

Somehow, he ends up inside with a plate of leftovers in front of him. And then on the pull-out couch for the night. Falling in a deep sleep, where he tries to ignore it all for just a few hours. Let his body rest the way it needs.

next part

Note: I'm back! Thanks for being patient during my little break there, I needed it. But I'm back in action and (for once) a little ahead in my writing. We'll see how long it lasts, but it's good for now. Double note: I think that conversation between Jim, Wayne, and Joyce is one of my favorite ones I've written for this fic.

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@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

[lady-ashfade]

Thank you: Soft moment between You and Demon Slayer characters.

Notes: Man, I should be asleep right now because about to be but in a coma by my heart rate- But no, my brain wants this. Only tanjiro is a romantic choice but it still up to you.

I read the motherly HC’s by @midnightwriter21 and i couldn’t help but want to do something to. Thank you for the comforting idea that heals me.

Reader: Female, and sweet and caring. Very motherly.

Characters: Tanjiro Kamado, Nezuko Kamado, Muichiro Tokito

(Romantic/ Platonic)

It had been years since he felt truly at home somewhere. It wasn’t just comfort of those around him, he had nezuko and that was all he need. No matter where he was he had her, and his founded family. But here, with you, was something familiar but distant…

The house smelled of cinnamon, he woke up in fresh clothes and sheets under him. He was warm and felt at peace. He had no idea why this didn’t just feel like a safe house. When he woke up he saw his clothes cleaned and repaired, the holes and blood stains no longer in them. And a cute hair pin for nezuko, which she was hopping up and down for.

When they made their way down the hallway the sweet smell got stronger and it made his mouth water. Nez was the first one to open the kitchen door and rush in, with a hum and a brightened look on her face.

He felt his heart warm as you smiled sweetly at her, flour on your cheek and sweat on your forehead from the warm room. “Come sit down,” you move your hands to show a nicely made sitting area with plates already prepared. “Hope it’s to your liking” He looked at the plates, nez couldn’t eat the food and he felt bad to bring this to your attention, until he looked closely. It wasn’t food at all but pretending food, like for children to play with.

You felt so homely to be around, like one his mom used to have. “I’m also making cookies, because you deserve it.” Tanjiro just looked at you for a minute and let his body take in the feeling of warmth. The sunshine in front of him with all its glory..

He was very grateful and thanked you, he shouted at how nice you had been to him and that he would make up for it. But you refused any help he offered around the house. So for the short time he stayed there, he cherished every second.

(Platonic)

He had never met anyone as gentle as you and he wondered how you got into this line of work, or made it this far without being killed. You weren’t a demon slayer, but a doctor for the near by demon slayers. You ran a safe house, cooked and clean and hosted anyone who needed it.

You ran your hands softly along his arm with some medicine that was cold, he just sat there. He could barely feel you, and he knew if it wasn’t for the medicine being cold he wouldn’t feel it at all. Usually, these things sting the wound but that didn’t happen. “You should get some rest when I’m done here, I’ll bring you a change of clothes.” You smiled at him.

He just looked plainly at you and slowly blinked, but speaking to you. “Do you prefer a red or a blue tooth brush?” What kind of question was that? Really, why would he care. A few seconds you realize he wouldn’t crack but that didn’t hurt you in the slightest. People take time, or maybe they never open up at all. It didn’t matter, as long as they are happy.

You patched him up from every scratch to every bigger wound. You never once let go of your smile, or didn’t try and talk to him when he wasn’t comfortable in doing so. The silence wasn’t filled with tension, it was calming to say the least. Your carful touches and your soft breaths, it was almost like being taken care of a mother…

You stood up when you were all done and clapped your hands slightly together and opened a  cabinet. Pulling out a few things, a blue toothbrush, a small towel, a pair of socks and what caught his eyes the most…

A blue lollipop.

“You don’t have to eat it, but all my patients get a treat.” Your voice beamed as you hand him the candy. He stared at it confused and then back up at you. It was very soft, like not even a inch but his lips curled up. “Thank you.” He said quietly.

You just giggled and help him to his room. He didn’t know why you just smiled and acted like a angel. But, it was a nice change.

(Platonic)

While tanjiro chopped firewood, something he begged you to let him do and wouldn’t stop asking about, she had a moment alone with you. She sat beside you, the sun had just set and you did some of your work.

You hummed a sweet tune as you wash the clothes, in your own little world. She stared at you and enjoyed the sound, it was nice to her. Maybe it was a glimpse of the passes when her mother would sing to her and her siblings. Whatever the reason, she was loving this moment.

That was until you stop humming the song, maybe it came to a end but she glared slightly, not mean or anything but in confusion. You heard her make a sound and found her staring at you with her head titled to the side.

You just smiled, “What is it, Nezuko?” You asked with a cheery tone. She just inched closer and tried to hum like you had, her nails pointing at you. “Oh, is this about my humming?” You chuckle as she nodded her head at a rapid speed. “Do you want more?”

When she agreed you smiled, continued to hum a new song your mother had once taught you. A weight pressed on your shoulder and your heart flutter in awe. She closed her eyes and listened to you continue to make the sweet sounds, her face happy and calm.

You knew this moment was more important to you. The place got lonely at times but with the siblings staying you couldn’t help but feel a hole being replaced. It was healing for you in a way, to hum for her like your mother used to do when you slept.

[mixiury]

Here with you — Wanderer x GN! Reader

Summary: After a long walk with Wanderer, you ended up exhausted, taking a small nap with your companion in the middle of the forest.

A/N: I corrected some typos I noticed after reading this again. I am dyslexic and English isn't my first language so I'm sorry if there is still some. Please feel free to point them out!

"Come here, lie with me."

"Why would I? To get my clothes dirty like yours? No thanks." Wanderer answered to your request almost instantly, showing little interest in changing his mind.

Both of you have been walking for hours now, enjoying the cool breeze that the trees of the Sumeru forest release.

It's hard to keep track of time in a place like this, especially when the silence and calm stretches out in its entirety and all you can hear is the soft melody of the birds with the snapping grass and leaves you are stepping on the ground while you walk.

But even though your hiking companion doesn't need to take breaks and the beautiful views of the landscapes along the way help in motivating you to continue exploring, you soon end up finding your feet and legs demanding you to rest, lying down on a small and comfortable hill, while Wanderer reluctantly agrees to wait for you a few minutes.

"Are you sure you don't want to join me? The sun is nice." You know what his response is going to be, but you keep insisting anyways, hoping that some miracle will happen that would make him change his mind and rest alongside you. However, as was from being expected, his head just turned away, ignoring your request with the same stubborness that characterizes him.

Defeated, you find solace in the warm sunlight and fresh grass you lie on, slowly imbuing yourself in its trap as your eyelids fight to stay open.

It is not until he notices how quiet you have become that Wanderer's gaze finally returned to your sleeping figure, noticing each deep breath you take as your chest rises and falls steadily, with nothing to interrupt you from falling into your calm, soft slumber.

It's annoying how you allow to put yourself in such a comfortable state in the middle of nowhere. As if, in this precise moment, nothing else mattered.

It seems like you don't know how easy of a target you are right now, not worrying about your surroundings and all the dangers that are around you. It only takes a few seconds to end a human's life and it's much easier when you're in such a vulnerable and peaceful state that you wouldn't even be able to react before you feel the pain of your aggressor hurting you.

And yet, the mere thought of it makes him feel sick and jealous of you at the same time. How can you live your life so carelessly? Is it because you don't have any self-prevention instincts inside that empty brain of yours? Or are you just so naive that, even knowing how he can easily leave you to your own devices, you still trust him enough to allow yourself to be in this position?

Knowing you will probably never tell him, he decides to search the answer by himself, quietly approaching you and laying down next to you, hoping that the sound of the grass rustling next to you won't wake you up or interrupt your dreams as he watches you in complete silence.

And it's only now, after he finally gave into your request, that he understood what you were talking about.

The faint rays of the sun really feel like a bliss the moment they caress your face, intense enough to embrace you with their warmth but not to the point of burning you. Contrasting with the cloudy and gloomy Inazuma mornings he had grown used to.

It has been so long since he felt this warmth and calmness, still staring at you steadily and letting himself enjoy the peaceful nature of the moment.

It feels illegal that him, out of all people, could experience an instance like this. He, whom from the day of his creation the only birthright that has been given to him was an eternity of grievance, shame and solitude, simply lying on the grass without any other concern but you.

He doesn't understand it but he wants to. Your presence itself has already helped him understand a hint of your normalicy, something that he had spent decades chasing and longing for but was never able to hold for long enough to call it his. And yet, he lets himself fall into your trap and comfort, finally taking a break from all the thoughts that have been stuck in his mind as he simply rests by your side.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 15 His POV

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

It seemed like there could never be peace in this world.

Elbert: …

Roger: Yo, El. Have you seen the ‘lil lady around? I wanted to get her to do some work for me, but haven’t seen her for a while.

Elbert: Roger. Listen to me calmly.

It’s possible that Kate was kidnapped.

—In an instant, all sounds ceased.

Roger: Kate? What do you mean?

Ellis: What you just said, is it true…?

I turned around and saw Jude and Ellis who had just come back from work.

Jude: The princess got kidnapped? By who?

Elbert: I’m not sure. Earlier in the garden, a coachman came up to me looking terribly disturbed.

He said that he dropped Kate off not far from the cemetery, but no matter how long he waited, she never came back.

He went to go look for her, but only found Ale.

Here, he gave me this.

He handed me a piece of paper with “I’ll be back soon” written in Kate’s handwriting.

Ellis: Kate wanted to go leave flowers on the grave of the Cursed One who passed a few days ago.

She said she’d take a carriage and be back before sundown, so she’d be fine.

Jude: That’s Saint Cemetery. Got a road so narrow that carriages pass through.

Somethin’ must’ve the moment she got out.

Elbert: We don’t know what happened, but we can’t waste any time. What do we do, Roger?

If Kate never comes back.

If I never hear her voice or see her smile again, I…

Elbert: …Roger?

Elbert waved his hand in front of my face, bringing me back to reality.

Roger: …

Ellis: Roger, are you okay?

Roger: Yeah…sorry. Just…a little shaken.

Elbert and Ellis: …(°ロ°)

I was having some trouble processing my emotions, confused.

(I’ve had these feelings before, not once)

I took a deep breath to calm myself, eyes now focused.

Roger: This likely has something to do with the recent incidents.

Let’s tell Victor first and then gather the rest of Crown.

--

When news of Kate’s disappearance broke, all of Crown assembled.

It was determined that it was highly likely Kate was involved in the incidents targeting young people.

Based on where the victims had gone missing, possible bases were identified.We split into four teams and set out to search each location.

--

Paired up with Jude, I ran down to the basement to get my hunting rifle.

—But, when the spare bullets tumbled out of my hand, I realized that for the first time, I was still shaken up.

(...Damn it, I need to calm down)

Since joining Crown, I’ve gone through hell so many times.

I’ve witnessed many deaths.

Death wasn’t something I was afraid of. Since I’ve been surrounded by it, I’ve grown used to it.

…Still.

(I think I'm afraid of losing her)

(I think she’s the only one I can’t afford to lose)

(There’s a reason why only one person was an “exception”)

Suddenly, some notes on my desk caught my attention. They were notes that Kate would occasionally leave.

~~

—Roger, I’ve left some food for you. If you don’t eat properly, I’m going to scold you later!

—Roger, do you want to go on a walk together this evening? Come find me when you’re done with work.

Roger, Roger, Roger…

~~

I had always believed that romantic love didn’t exist in this world.

I thought that what people called romantic love was just a dysfunction of the brain or a misunderstanding caused by sexual desire.

However, I already knew why my emotions were in a disarray without rhyme or reason.

(Ah, so that’s it)

(Looks like the lil’ lady’s already taught me about romantic love after all)

(Does she feel the most special to me?)

“I won’t despair”——Those words that she threw out into the world drew me toward her.

“I want to be strong”——I was charmed by that earnest, hardworking gaze.

“I want you to like me”——I was hit with an ardent emotion that burned my heart.

(...Damn it, I’m not gonna let you get away after teaching me these annoying feelings)

I strapped my rifle to my back and pocketed the bullets. 

An unprecedented passion seethes in my chest.

Roger: …I’m coming for you. Wait for me, Kate. Don’t you dare die.

[rissararity]

Little excerpt from an Omegaverse Logan fic I'm writing for funzies. Below cut gets NSFW!

Everyone always assumed Logan liked tough, red lipped, leather jacket types and he did…to pump and dump on his ruts.

But on the extremely rare occasion he imagined his perfect mate, she was always delicate and wore calming, peaceful colored dresses and skirts.

Dresses and skirts he could hike up at his convenience.

A lady, and a whore.

Excuse me while I re-read this until my squee's die down.

I just love the thought of gruff, grumpy Alpha Logan x sunshine omega.

- He'd be the very definition of scary dog privilege. No one messes with his little Dove and lives to take another breath.

- Before they mated, he'd hate every guy she went out with and not think anyone was good enough for her

- He looks so angry in public. Crowds make way as he nears. Yet the chatty little omega on his arm is bouncing on her heels and smiling up at him without a hint of fear or discomfort.

-Total opposites, yet so perfect for each other.

-Dove is tougher than she looks and likes it rough.

-She accepts his feral side and can take his ruts like a champ. He loves watching her normally taught little belly inflate with his loads, and plugging her while she rests to keep it inside.

- She belongs to Logan, after all. She'd be full of him constantly if he had his way, and he did his best to achieve that goal.

-Skirts! The skirts! His rough, calloused hands slide up her soft legs, beneath the pastel blue fabric. She immediately spreads her thighs for him.

-If she's super dtf, she doesn't wear panties under her skirt at all. His sharp eyes can see the lack of panty line a mile away.

-Possessive. He hates when Dove has to be the distraction during a mission and as soon as possible fucks her against the wall in the nearest alley or dark corner as if to re-establish his claim.

-She loves how his touch erases the memory of the previous one, and she actually feels CLEANER once his thick cum is slowly pooling into her panties.

- Sometimes he jumps the gun and does this before the mission is actually done. If they can't risk anyone catching a whiff, Alpha Logan is very happy to plug her tight little pussy with a special device until she can safely evacuate it upon their return.

-Pretty free use, though he very much values her comfort and consent. Her little omega hip wiggles to encourage him just before he enters are a personal favorite.

- Grunts, and growls. Purrs that rub her brain AND her clit. She can FEEL the deep, gruff sounds coming from his thick, muscular torso. His breath in her ear shakes and shutters.

- "Mine." He snarls, arms curling tighter around her as if someone were going to try and take her from him.

-Logan would shred anyone who tried to ribbons, of course.

- Dirty talk! Experienced, confident Logan loves to praise his little cum slut. Telling her he's gonna give her so much she'll be leaking for DAYS.

- Speaking of, you know Alpha Logan has just as much stamina as any super soldier and his loads are twice the size.

-During ruts she finds herself feeling sloshy after a while but she couldn't care less. This is exactly what she wanted.

She may be a lady, but for her alpha, she IS a whore.

And he loves her.

(Might make a fully SFW version of this sometime)

[phoenixblair666]

It Only Takes One Second: A Logan Howlett X Fem!Reader Story

This story takes place in the X-Men trilogy. It's a romance between Logan and Fem!Reader, where the reader goes through a traumatic experience that allows her mutant powers to emerge. She goes to Xavier's school in search of sanctuary but finds Logan instead. When He helps her learn how to use and control her powers, he creates a valuable new member of the X-Men, but what started as helping a new recruit find their footing, turns into a blossoming romance.

Authors Note: This story will be in multiple parts. As of now how many parts, is to be determined. Feel free to ask if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Enjoy! ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Word Count: 2,457

Reading Time Approximately: 10 Minutes

WARNINGS: Mentions of Self-Deprecation, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Weaponry, Mentions of Fluff

(Part: 3) Adamantium

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .

Sleep had never come so easily, as it has right now. The fear of nightmares left your body as Logan took off his leather jacket, sliding into the small bed, wrapping his bulky limb over your shoulder as you rested your head on his chest. The heavy thumps of his heartbeat against your ear were like a soothing lullaby. Earlier this morning he treated you like you were a burden, showing you his gruff, uncaring persona, and now he's pressed against you, acting as a safe haven.

Logan fought the urge to sleep as he watched your breathing become shallower with each passing second. Your face was still stained with the dry tears that were shed moments before, but now it was calm and expressionless as you drifted off. His heart skipped at the sight. You looked so gentle, so vulnerable, making him feel the need to protect you. Why would he want to protect someone he had just met? The feeling was almost primal, deeply engrained into his very core and he couldn't fight it no matter how hard he tried. Was it the fact that he so effortlessly shared his past with? Or was it that you freely shared yours in return, creating a sense of newfound trust? He had never told anyone about the horrors that plagued his brain, but he told you, just to elevate the fears in your mind.

And when you held his arm as he tried to leave, staring at him with large (Y/E/C), watery eyes, he didn't hesitate to comfort you. And that leaves him here, wondering why someone he didn't even know could wiggle their way into his heart, earning his sympathies. The night went on just like this, with him resisting heavy eyelids as you peacefully rested. And to your surprise, he was still right there in the morning.

The rays of sun that shone through your curtains warmed your skin, leaving goosebumps trailing up your arms and legs. When you open your eyes, you see the faint color of white against perfectly sun-kissed skin. Then you see dark hair that looks almost delectably soft to the touch. You let out a satisfied hum as you remember the night before, alerting Logan of your consciousness. You sit up slowly, as his heavy arm slides off your shoulder. He watches your every move as you stretch and groan, allowing your body to wake from a peaceful sleep. He doesn't say a word. He just observes.

You turn your neck, still feeling the tightness in your muscles, eventually meeting his eyes. "Thank you, Logan." You softly smile at him, but he doesn't respond as if he is lost in thought. "I mean, for staying with me last night. Thank you." The silence is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. He nods and lets out a small grunt, before standing and picking up his jacket from the dresser. He makes his way to the door, jacket hanging from his forearm before turning to you. "I'll see you around." and with that he leaves your room, closing the door behind him.

You sit there silent and alone. Cool air brushes over your skin, in his absence and you feel your chest weigh down on you. He left so abruptly after being so vulnerable with you the night prior. You begin questioning everything that had happened, but then you're left with the feeling of guilt, and you have no idea why.

As the week went on, you had barely seen Logan. A few times here and there you would see him in the hallway, sharing glances before he rushed off. It seemed as if he was avoiding you, making your heart ache.

You were on your way to the kitchen when the professor began to probe your mind. "Good morning, (Y/N). Will you please meet me in my study, I would like to discuss your training in person." You turn on your heel, quickly making your way to Xavier's office. You gather yourself at the closed doors, before sighing deeply and entering. You match the professor's smile, taking small steps into the room, and gently shutting the door behind you. As you sit in the armchair, the old worn leather squeaks under your weight.

Xavier gestures for you to look at the paperwork on the desk before speaking. "Hello, my dear. How have you been fairing?" You lean in, looking at the papers that were splayed out on his desk. "I've been doing good, actually. I finally feel well-adjusted to my new living situation. Just been taking every day on, one step at a time. I've met a lot of people who are just like me too." He nods, obviously pleased that you are comfortable in the school.

Your eyes skim the words on the paper, and you begin to realize what they are. When you first arrived at the school, you had a series of tests run on you by Jean, and these seem to be the results of said tests. At the bottom of one of the diagnostics was the words Omega Level, typed in bold letters. You quickly read over the rest while Xavier waits patiently.

When you finish reading, you stack the papers, lying them on the sleek wood. Xavier raises an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your response. "So, I'm an Omega Level mutant? What does that mean?" Xavier's smile widens as his expression fills with excitement. "It means that your abilities are very powerful and quite unique. These results show that you can manipulate oxygen-rich molecules."

You look at him quizzically, still wondering why these powers are so unique. His smile softens as he takes one of your hands into his. "We believe that not only can you manipulate the surrounding air, but you can change it on a molecular level." You stifle the small laugh that erupts from your chest. "And what does that mean, exactly, Professor?" He shakes his head before finally giving you a straightforward answer. "You may be able to turn oxygen into different elements. This will give you the ability to conjure anything your mind wants to. Let's say you're on a deserted island, with no food, and only the vast ocean waters surrounding you. Your body needs sustenance, but there's none to be found. What do you do? For others, the answer is simple. Starve. But for you, you take the abundant resource and turn it into potassium, lead, copper, and a few other vitamins and minerals. What are you left with then?" You shrug audibly laughing this time. "I don't know, booze or something." You giggle at your response.

Xavier sighs, knowing all too well that you have no idea how unique your powers truly are. "A banana, my dear." You laugh more as he answers his own question entirely too seriously. "I'm glad to know I was gifted with the ability to make bananas. Truly world-saving if I do say so myself." Once again, he sighs before continuing. "This ability has never been seen in any mutants as far as I know, (Y/N). You don't understand how powerful this can be. Just think about it. World hunger could be a thing of the past. Scarce medical supplies could be easily accessible. You are just one person, but your powers could allow you to do good for the world. Even if it's in small quantities at a time."

Your laughing quickly halts, as you gently smile at him. "I appreciate you seeing the potential in me, professor, but what do these gifts have to offer the X-Men? I don't have lasers for eyes, I can't control the weather, I don't have super strength or speed..." You pause, "and I can't grow a set of deadly claws from my fists. My powers are useless to your cause." Xavier's eyes soften as you fill your mind with self-doubt.

He releases your hand, pushing the small lever of his chair, gently turning around his desk. "I would like you to go to the training room and I will send Logan down with you. I want you to try to put your powers to the test, during simple combat and we will see if they're fitting of X-Men status." Your heart rate quickens at the mention of sparring with Logan, but you nod anyway. "Report back to me when you are finished, my dear, and we will determine whether or not your abilities are of importance."

As you leave, you begin to feel nervousness wash over you. Not only will you be put in a situation that could be dangerous, but you'll be in said situation with Logan. Your mind whirls with worries, but you find comfort in the thought that Logan wouldn't hurt you. Right?

Logan meets you in the large empty room. A blue mat covers the floor while matching sets are lined up against the walls. Surely these mats are of no use to the many mutants that have sparred here. Falling to the ground is the least of anyone's worries.

As you both take place on opposite sides of the room, you can see the hesitant look in Logan's eyes. "I don't know why the professor paired us up." He says standing completely still. Your brows furrow together, almost hurt by his words. Clearly, you were no match against him. You were pulled out of your thoughts by Xavier speaking to you telepathically. "Think defensively, (Y/N), not offensively." Logan grunts as his claws begin to break through the thin layers of skin. "I'll go easy on you, bub."

He begins to circle you like a predator stalking its prey. He had no clue how you were going to combat him, so he took his time allowing you to find your footing. You close your eyes, sensing the air that surrounds you. As you focus you can feel each molecule floating freely, bouncing off one another. Your mind begins to pull the molecules together, tightening them into a compact form. They begin to buzz around sporadically as the oxygen, turns to iron. You hold out your hand and feel a solid object begin to form in your palm. Moments later a handle renders into the world, with a sharp blade on top.

Logan's eyes widen when he sees the shining metal glimmer under the fluorescent lights. When you open yours, you see the blade, feeling giddy as you test it, swinging it back and forth. "So, what are you? A magician? You can control the wind and do magic tricks or somethin?" You turn to him, pointing the blade in his direction. You feel a sense of confidence build in your body. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'll be the first magician to kick The Wolverine's ass." You smile at him, wiggling your eyebrows. He grunts before replying. "Alright, let's see what you're made of." With that, Logan begins to take large strides towards you. Then he sprints, claws bared. He swings his large muscular arm above you, as you lift the blade, meeting metal with metal. Your blade breaks in half, the long tip falling to the ground. You feel a sharp pain in the tip of your finger, as blood begins to run down your hand. Logan stops, slightly retracting his claws. "(Y/N), I'm sorry, I didn't..." You interrupt him mid-sentence, wiping the blood on your pants. "It's okay, let's go again."

You don't know if it's the adrenaline high, but your confidence remains, even at your failed attempt. Logan frowns at you. "Nothing you make will be able to handle my blades. They're made of adamantium." You scoff at him. "I said again. Please, Logan." He sighs, taking a few steps back, before turning and placing himself on the other side of the room once again.

You close your eyes and begin to form another object when Xaviers' voice rings in your ears. "Defense, (Y/N)." You shake his voice from your mind, continuing your work, this time, creating a large shield that covers the majority of your body. The metal was clean and sleek. You admired your work before Logan rushed towards you again. Just like before, he swung his arm down, but this time there was a resistance against his blades. The sound of metal, clanging through the air echoed through the large room. The sheer force of the impact pushed you to the ground as you took cover behind the shield.

Logan's claws retracted as he dropped to his knees by your side. He pulled the shield away from your trembling hands, exposing your hidden body. "You, okay?" he asks, checking you for any signs of injury. Your hands begin to calm as the adrenaline wears off, and you turn to face him. "I did it." You whisper breathlessly. Logan looks at you, confusion covering his features. "Did what?" You smile at him, jumping up to your feet and pulling him into a tight embrace, squeaking with excitement as you bounce up and down in his arms. Logan's hands meet your waist, gently holding you in place, while you celebrate. "I made adamantium!" When you pull away, your chest heaves as you catch your breath. You meet his eyes but see something foreign behind them. Adoration. He was proud of you, despite mocking your abilities before. "Good job, bub. I'm surprised you had it in you." You lightly smack his shoulder, giggling like a schoolgirl.

Logan couldn't help but smile at you as you expressed your happiness. His smile quickly faded though when he noticed your still bleeding finger. He grabs your hand firmly, pulling it up to his face for a better look as you watch him. You begin to notice just how handsome he is at this moment while he focuses on taking care of you. The way his brows furrow together, and his lips tighten as he thinks. You gawk at him shamelessly, slightly jumping when he speaks. "You might need stitches. I'll take you to the med bay." You smirk at him as he looks at you concerned. "It's just a little cut, Logan. I can handle getting to the med bay on my own." He shakes his head and sighs. "Let me take you." His eyes fill with a protective look, and you nod.

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚ ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .

As Jean stitches up your finger, you feel his gaze burn the back of your head, but little did you know he was admiring you. He was admiring how well you did in the training room, how you adapted to your surroundings, and most of all the way you reacted to succeeding. At this exact moment, Logan realized that he was falling for you. And boy was he falling hard.

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[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

can we get a fic where r is a nurse or med student and she just had a terrible terrible day at work and steve just comforts her? ly <3

i know nothing about the medical world so forgive me. kinda basing this from a breakdown i had after orientation for my job then texting a friend for some help.

masterlist

silence. peace and quiet after a twenty-four hour on call shift. no beeping monitors, no patients getting angry with you, no messes to clean up; just you sitting in your car letting your brain melt. and then the tears started to sting, face pinching to withhold yourself but letting the floodgates free. your breathing was labored and your head was getting fuzzy, you hoped no one was a witness to your breakdown.

fingers death gripping onto your leather steering wheel, head falling forward and almost hitting your horn. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to take deep slow breaths, needing to steady yourself before making the thirty minute drive back to your apartment where steve was waiting for you.

steve. with his name popping into your head you reached into your bag, pulling your phone and flipping it open then pressing one to speed dial the landline. the dial tone rang twice and then you heard his voice.

“harrington residence.” just those two words from your husband lifted your sorrows for a moment, allowing you to calmly speak into the receiver. “hi honey.” a sigh of relief before a wet hiccup followed.

you could hear the concern when steve asked, “hey, you off? need me to pick you up?” already knowing you had your car with you, but also knowing you would be exhausted to drive.

you shook your head even though it wasn’t seen, “no, no. just… just wanted to see if you needed anything?” closing your eyes as the welling tears continued. “want something for lunch? was gonna stop by-“

“it’s fine, honey. i already cooked something for you. just get home safe. i love you.” and he didn’t hang up right away, waiting for you to respond back. a croaked “i love you,” then quick to press the end call button. you took deep calming breaths, five in five out, before starting the engine and cutting the radio off.

you kept to the speed limit, sometimes going three over or even five under causing people to honk and speed past you. you didn’t have the energy to care about their pissed stares, just counting the stop lights until you hit your block, rolling into the complex then pulling into your parking spot.

your bones felt like liquid as you gathered your bags and drinks, locking your car then heading up the one flight of stairs. a quick left then past three doors and you stood outside yours, number 736, a lovely floral reef circled the peep hole.

with a heavy hand you slid your key into the lock, turned the knob and was greeted to the warm lighting and laugh track blaring from the tv. the lingering smell of mac and cheese with some baked chicken and steamed veggies caused your stomach to gargle.

“hey pretty.” steve’s smooth voice slid into the hallway with you, his hands reaching out to take your load off your shoulders.

he made sure to keep your belonging organized and hang your coat on the rack. he knelt to the floor and helped tug your sneakers off your aching feet before ushering your further into the apartment to the couch.

reruns of your favorite sitcom light the room as steve leaned in to press a tender kiss on your left temple, eyes closing in contentment. “i’ll be back with our food.”

steve was gone less than five minutes and you could feel your eyes growing heavy as each second passed, head lulling to rest on the back of your couch. you smiled and chuckled low at a joke you already knew, but it still tickled you pink.

“kept it in the oven to stay warm. hope it taste good, i followed the recipe for the mac and chicken, but you know me.” steve set the two plates on the small table covering your feet. “how’s my girl doing?”

he rested a palm to your left thigh and rubbed over your scrubs comfortably. you took a deep inhale before sighing out, “draining.” the one word sufficient in summarizing everything.

steve hummed, “sorry. but luckily you’re taking the next two days off. how about we just rot in bed for one day and then be slightly adults the next day. how’s that sound?” his browns eyes darkened and shaded with the flickering light.

leaning your head onto his right shoulder and fighting sleep you yawned out, “sounds perfect.” the laugh track and commercials becoming your white noise.

[jangmi-latte]

I don't usually simp for Lilia because the game has made me look at him as our friendly neighborhood grandpa, but like.... imagine meeting General!Lilia while he's on duty- and maybe he helps us with something or we help him out- and from there on a romance slowly blossoms? Just... active duty Lilia who's yet to become Lili-pa and the whole 'waiting for my friend who I want to be my lover to visit me during his break from duty'

FRIENDLY NEIGHBORHOOD GRANDPA

good riddance mid-war/military romance?!?!? sign me up!!?!?? my brain has been going from camp-healer reader or to villager reader or subordinate reader or even agent reader (captain america and peggy carter type of romance)??? the possibilities are endless but since you emphasized helping we're going with villager who's also a healer reader.

/this can be descriptive and damn has it gotten long.

you can think of this being either fae or human reader but when you mentioned help, seeing an injured lilia who had to limp away from the camp after checking if his men are okay. so, he's in the middle of the woods hissing and sitting against a tree while lifting his clothing to see that big unhealing slash across his abdomen. the blood has already clotted but it's still dangerously huge and dirty and he's trying his best to heal it with his magic but it's concerning how he still feels the pain. plus, he needs to rest both his mana and body.

he will definitely try heating up one of his daggers to press on his wound but before he could even press the searing metal on his skin, that's when a hand stops him and pull the dagger away. it was a surprise, most especially for someone like him to be conscious of every single element around him.

you definitely look like a land of briar resident with your clothing. however, you look absolutely distressed and you're sweating so much it looked like you haven't bathed in days. he'd ask what are you doing but you keep your mouth shut and kneel down beside him. only then did he notice the belt strapped around your hips filled to the brim with antidotes and potions.

he's astonished, to say the least. he was in a daze while you're speaking and he was brought to his senses when he felt the burning sensation of liquid hitting his skin. it's literally smoking that he had to bite down on his gloved wrist to keep himself from screaming. his back arching off the tree while he's gripping your wrist. it hurt but hey, his wound his tingling and healing.

that's when he felt oddly...captivated by you. and as the old fae tradition goes, to he who was serviced must return the favor. he's just staring at you while taking deep breaths and you're looking around as if you're being watched. he assured you that you're safe with him and asked what do you want as gratitude for healing him but you just shook your head. stating that YOU are thanking him for defending the land.

all goes to say, he'd go to the said forest every now and then after you both departed, half-expecting to run into you. there were occasions he would see you crouched by a bush and plucking berries and herbs. he'd strike conversation, often surprising you with his silence and stealth. but eventually, you're warming up to him. he'd give you herbs you've mentioned needing that's only located across the other side of the land.

your presence was calming; during a war, peace was a far-fetched dream for a soldier, a general. when he's stressed, lacks sleep, and just exhausted he'd seek refuge in that very forest. he'd snap at you when you greet him but somehow, you're not affected. scary, yes. but you've known lilia from the constant meetings that you've brought some bottled mist that you claim can calm him down and give him a leveled-head again.

when he suddenly snaps his eyes open, that's when he realised he has fallen asleep without even noticing that he's definitely nonplussed. only then does he notice that he's laying on your lap while you're reading a book. he's bombarding you with questions but needless to say, he's really thankful.

baul would even notice lilia departing from the camp during breaks instead of eating with them that he's tempted to follow the general.

what can he do though? the general can find refuge somewhere else. more like...someone else.

to say he's catching feelings was questionable. other than malleficia, levan, baul, or mallenoa, he has never felt entirely close to someone outside of the royal guards or royalty. instinct driven need to protect you is there — that's what he feels towards the townsfolk anyways, that's what he tells himself.

just what have you done to the general...

might become a fic though 🫶🏻